So there I was, stuck in this dark Victorian mansion for a whole freaking century, thinking I'd never get out. Then, out of nowhere, these two gorgeous girls swoop in and rescue me! I couldn't believe it, and we instantly hit it off. They showed me a whole new world I'd only ever imagined, and I was all about living a normal human life. But just when I thought things were looking up, this vampire named Vivaldi pops up out of thin air, grinning like a possessed Jack-o'-lantern. I mean, a name like Vivaldi is bound to give you the creeps, right? He claimed I had some ancient first blood running through my veins and demanded that I sign some crazy blood contract with him—the kind of deal that comes with some seriously freaky consequences. Vivaldi was trying to sell me the idea that this blood contract was his only lifeline, the only way to save his skin from something worse than death. But I wasn't some clueless newborn vamp; I knew better than to just dive into something as serious as a blood contract. Those things come with some heavy consequences, and I wasn't about to sign up for that without a second thought. The problem was, if I didn't go along with his messed-up plan, he promised to make my friends' lives a living hell—the very people I'd started to care about. I was trapped between a rock and a hard place. If I decided to team up with Vivaldi, I'd be keeping him around, which is far from ideal. But if I refused, my friends and the whole town of Shadowvale would be in serious danger. It felt like I was caught in this impossible situation, like I was trying to choose between two rotten apples.
Lihat lebih banyak~Vivaldi's POV~
I LAY SPRAWLED OUT ON THE COLD, damp cave floor, feeling like a broken, naked doll. Massive chains cuff my small hands, weighing me down like anchors. As I try to move, a groan escapes me, echoing off the cave walls. The sound is pathetic, but I'm too far gone to care. Pain throbs in every part of my body. The keys to my freedom lay temptingly close, but my hands are shaking, weighed down by the heavy chains and pulsating pain. “Come on, superpowers! Get your bloody act together!” I mutter to myself, trying to will my body to heal faster. Blood splatters cover the cave walls like abstract art. Deep claw marks scar the stone surface, evidence of my 'Wolf' abilities. Finally, relief washes over me as my body miraculously knits itself back together. With a triumphant grunt, I grab the keys and unlock the chains. Pushing open the metal doors guarding the cave, a cool breeze hits me, carrying the refreshing scent of pine and earth. Stepping out of the cave, I watch the sun slowly dip below the horizon, painting the sky with dazzling streaks of pink and orange. A cool breeze rustles the trees, making them sway. Spotting a pile of clothes, my heart leaps. “Clothes! Glorious, wonderful clothes!” I think, slipping them on and relishing the comforting feel of fabric against my skin. Flexing my muscles, I expect pain to wrack me, but I'm good as new. My body's ready to take on the world. My stomach lets out a growl. I haven't eaten in roughly a month. “Time to find some meal and tame this inner beast,” I think, taking off like a shot. I dart through the trees with a speed that could give The Flash a run for his money. The world around me blurs into a kaleidoscope of colors. I burst out of the forest and onto a quiet, deserted road. Cars are scarce, but I don't care. “My stomach's calling the shots now, and it's screaming for food!” I think, scanning the horizon for any sign of sustenance. Time to find a restaurant and get some food! Luck's on my side, and I spot a neon sign across the road: "COCO'S BAR." A lopsided grin spreads across my face, and I skip across the street. I nod approvingly at the bar's glitzy lights and the warm glow of streetlights. A drink before a meal never hurt anyone, right? Not that I care. I shrug and grab the door handle. But there's a note: "We are closed. Come back tomorrow. Thank you, and God bless you." A sarcastic laugh escapes me. “As if some sign could stand between me and a drink!” I think, rolling my eyes. Do they think paper and tape can keep me out? I'll show them what a real entrance looks like. I shove the door open, a loud cackle bursting from my lips. I step inside, leaving the cold behind. The bar may be closed, but it's not stopping me. No way, not today! I take in the surroundings. The entire place is made of gleaming, brown wood. It's like they used wood for everything – the building, tables, chairs, counter, even the mugs. I let out a chuckle. “Wood you like a drink?” My eyes widen as I spot rows of glass bottles filled with booze. “Ooo, jackpot!” I murmur. I saunter over to the counter, where a line of stools stands. I hop onto one, resting my elbows on the counter. I had my heart set on Jack Daniel's, but now, faced with this array of bottles – different shapes and sizes, filled with vibrant liquids, and fancy names – I feel like a kid in a candy store. "What should I choose?" I think. "Fancy whiskey or tequila?" Just then, I spot a gleaming, bald head behind the counter. It shines brighter than a mirror! I clear my throat. "Hello, my good man," I call out. "Mind fetching me the strongest drink you've got?" But my words are ignored. The mysterious barkeep continues to move around behind the counter. "Hello, are you deaf?" I bellow, my voice echoing off the walls. The bar falls silent. At last, the bald head turns in my direction. In a deep voice, the barkeep says, "We are closed. Come back tomorrow. Thank you, and God bless you." Seriously? That's the same as the note on the door! "Listen, man," I plead, "I get it; you're probably tired, but how about just one drink? I need some liquid courage." "No," he grunts. "Rules are rules, and we're closed." "Please," I beg, "Just one tiny drop?" I hold up a single finger. "Still no," he growls. "Okay, okay," I scramble for a compromise, "What if I just sniff it?" "No." His answer hits me hard. I groan, feeling defeated. Anger churns inside me. What's this guy's problem? I lean forward, trying to see what he's doing behind the counter. Maybe I can figure out what's so important... I spot him hunched over the sink, furiously scrubbing wooden mugs. Is he choosing dirty dishes over a paying customer? “Hey, Mr. Bean Head!” I bellow. The guy jolts, his head jerking up in surprise. “Get over here and serve me some beer!” I jab my finger on the counter, irritation clear in my voice. His head stops bobbing, and he slowly turns to face me, his glare icy cold. I watch as he rises to his full height, like a transformer in slow-motion. This guy's a towering mountain of a man! I feel like I'm staring up at a skyscraper. His arms are mountains of muscle, and his chest bulges like it might burst. He's a living Greek myth, a hulking giant. I'm talking tree-trunk legs, cannonball shoulders, and a face that looks like it's been chiseled from granite. But as I sit there, he leans in, his words cutting through me: “What did you just call me?”~Casper's POV~“CASTOR, FOR CHRIST SAKE, don't listen to this him,” Scarlett begs, her voice laced with desperation, but Castor just rolls his eyes at her pleas. He fixes his steely gaze on me, and time slows down as he begins folding his sleeves up like a boss. After he's done, he cracks his knuckles, the sound echoing through the air like a challenge. “I dare you to repeat what you said, you punk,” he sneers.I feel Chloe's grasp on my hand, her eyes telling me to ignore the temptation, to not take the bait. Scarlett tries to move towards me, but Castor pulls her to himself, manhandling her like a rag doll. I grit my teeth at the sight, my anger boiling over.So, this is what Scarlett goes through with this guy? Well, my presence is about to change that. Scarlett and Winter aren't just friends; they're the closest thing I have to family. After a century of being alone, they're the ones who make me feel human again. They saved me when I was at my lowest, and now it's my turn to retur
~Casper's POV~I'M SITTING HERE, PRETENDING TO BE OBLIVIOUS, nodding along like a bobblehead, and forcing out silly fake laughs. Meanwhile, my mind is a jumbled mess of emotions, a war zone of worries, and a circus of crazy thoughts.Scarlett and Chloe are yapping away, completely clueless about the turmoil brewing inside me. They're discussing the “super cops” – aka WVH – and the destructive windstorm that ripped through town like a bad haircut. I'm showing sympathy, making supportive noises, and sipping my tea, all while my brain is preoccupied with Winter. Those piercing blue eyes of hers have me twisted in knots – the fear that flickers in her eyes whenever she looks at me. It's like a punch to the gut, and a slap in the face all rolled into one.Will she ever look at me the same way again? Or will she expose me to Scarlett, ruining the one friendship that's kept me sane since my release from the mansion? The thought alone is enough to drive me crazy, to push me over the edge, and
I'M SITTING IN MY DESK, HALFWAY through a physics lesson, when I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I twist around to see a beautiful girl, her features as delicate as a porcelain doll's. She's got captivating emerald eyes, framed by impossibly long, dark lashes, and a button nose that suits her heart-shaped face perfectly. Her golden locks cascade over her shoulders like a silken waterfall. Her soft pink lips part slightly as she leans in, a hint of rose-scented perfume teasing my senses. In a hushed, musical voice, she whispers, "I'm sorry to disturb you, but your girlfriend wanted me to give you this note." Her voice is so low I have to strain to catch every word, but her crystal-clear tone reminds me of a tinkling bell. My brows crease in confusion at the mention of a girlfriend. As far as I know, I don't have one! But I set aside that mystery for now and nod a silent thanks to the girl, turning my attention back to the droning teacher. Her slender fingers brush mine, soft as v
WHEN I AWOKE, AN EERIE SILENCE filled the room. I cautiously surveyed my surroundings, taking in the horrific scene before me. Agatha's lifeless body sprawled across the floor, and DeAndre lay nearby, his heart torn from his chest. Ignoring the grotesque dead vampires and Werewolves, I rushed to the ornate window where Cassius would often gaze out. My heart sank as I took in the sight of hundreds of lifeless bodies scattered across the grounds. Tears stung my eyes, and I fell to my knees, sobbing at the realization that my master lay among them. "No!" I cried, unwilling to accept the truth before me. Desperate for a closer look, I bolted for the front door, only to find myself teleported back to the living room. Confused and distraught, I tried every possible exit—doors, windows, any opening I could find—but each attempt only brought me back to the same spot. Defeated and devastated, I slumped to the floor, my cries echoing through the mansion. Suddenly, a cold hand grasped my l
"YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOU KNEW caspian and Dante, like, in the flesh?" Vivaldi's voice trembles with disbelief. "Yes, I knew them like the back of my hand," I confirm, watching his reaction carefully. "Oh my god!" Vivaldi exclaims, ruffling his hair frantically as if trying to rid himself of an infestation. His laughter rings with a manic edge, and before I can process his erratic behavior, he backhands me across the face. The force of the blow nearly knocks me off my stool, and I growl through clenched teeth, my pain and anger burning in my eyes. "I'm sorry," he apologizes hastily, seeing the rage in my expression. "But where the hell have you been my whole fucking life? All this time, everyone kept telling me that Caspian died without passing on the power of the First Blood. But my desperation for a cure made me hold onto hope, even when there seemed to be none." Vivaldi's eyes bore into mine, demanding answers. "No more secrets, right? So tell me, where did you go after Caspian's
IN THE BAR, GLASSES CLINK, AND echoes with lively chatter. Casper and I raise our glasses, toasting amidst the boisterous voices."How can I lift your spirit, Mr. Vivaldi?" Casper asks, eyes fixed on my troubled gaze. Tipping my scotch glass, I savor the smoky scent before downing it in one fiery gulp. The burn rushes down my throat as I set the glass back on the counter with a gentle clink.Casper follows suit, his face twisting in pain, gasping for air. Hand pressed against his chest, he tries to douse the flames within. I lean in, worry etched on my brow."You okay, man?" I ask, concern ringing in my voice.Raising a shaky hand to halt me, Caspers wheezes, "Do I look okay?" His voice strained from the effort.I shrug, humor sparkling in my gaze. "Casper, how can you not handle something so devilishly smooth?" I joke, eyeing the half-empty bottle's amber liquid.He gives me an incredulous look, chest heaving. "How do you drink that without your insides burning to a crisp?"I can't h
BARRINGTON TAKES A DEEP BREATH, his gaze fixed on the phone number displayed on the screen before dialing it. He fidgets with his pen, anxiety building as the line rings. When the call connects, he smiles as he hears the voice on the other end."Hello and good afternoon! Am I speaking with Mr. Flynt?""Yes, who is this and how may I help you?"Barrington clears his throat, trying to sound as official as possible. "Ahem... This is Barrington Jackson, calling from Shadowvale's police department.""Barrington, as in the chief of police?"Barrington can't help but puff up a bit with pride. "Yes, that's right.""Oh, wow! For real? Long time, man..."Barrington grins. "Yeah, it's been a while. How have you been?""I'm good, I'm good. And you? Still keeping the streets of Shadowvale safe, huh?"They chat for a while, catching up on old times. But Barrington knows he has a purpose for this call, so he eventually steers the conversation towards it."Listen, I hope you don't mind me asking, but
I’M SLOWLY WAKING UP, RUBBING the sleep from my eyes, when I notice a small, mysterious figure sitting on an armchair across from me. Their tiny legs are crossed, and they're holding this huge book that covers their entire face. I can’t make out their features, but I know exactly who it is.I manage to croak out, "What are you doing in my room?", my voice still heavy with sleep as I struggle to sit up.There’s a moment of silence, but then, BAM! The book snaps shut with a thunderous sound, revealing none other than Vivaldi. His bright, curious eyes peer out at me from behind these round, wire-rimmed glasses I've never seen him wearing before. His raven black hair is all ruffled, like he’d just rolled out of bed.With an excited pitch in his voice, Vivaldi exclaims, "You're awake, Snow Boy!" His enthusiasm is unmistakable, as he questions, "How was Dreamland?"All I can do in response is roll my eyes, not feeling up to dealing with Vivaldi's eccentricities.So, Vivaldi's expression tur
CHIEF OFFICER BARRINGTON STEPS into his father's home, his boots announcing his arrival with each squeak against the tiles. He finds Norman, his father, in his favorite armchair, a cup of Earl Grey tea steaming at his side.Norman raises his gaze, his eyes crinkling with warmth as a smile etches itself upon his weathered face. "Well, look who it is—my favorite son," he quips, rising from his chair with a soft groan.A chuckle escapes Barrington as he wraps his father in a warm embrace. "I'm your only son, Dad," he reminds him with a grin.Norman steps back, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "That's exactly why you're my favorite."The two men sit on the couch, and Norman asks the maid to bring an extra cup so they can share tea. Barrington thanks his father, takes a sip of the tea, and feels its warmth radiate through his chest as he relishes the comforting taste of home."Dad, you truly make the best tea in all of Shadowvale and beyond," Barrington compliments, his appreciation eviden
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