“You shall not return until your work here is done, King of Vampires,” the mystic’s voice echoed in the eerie cavern she resided. “You cannot return till what you came here for is completed, Delaroth.”
She had instantly recognized him as someone who is not from here. She had known he would arrive. She awaited the King of Vampires, Delaroth. On the other hand, he could feel the Oracle’s presence in her. He had grown to trust her in the ten minutes he had known her.
“Why must it be so?” he questioned as water lapped towards where they were sitting. The entire place was queerer than Oracle’s abode. The cavern was lit up by purple lights, which illuminated the water into a much more mysterious sight.
“A name,” she answered, twining away the tresses of her hair from her face.
“A name? Whose name?”
“A female’s name.” Delaroth couldn’t help but think that it must be the name of his Fated One. He grew anxious and anticipated what the mystic had to say next.
“Rachel,” she answered. His Fated One shared the same name as the Oracle’s? “Rachel Clearwater.”
“Dracu,” he cursed in his native tongue. “That is the Oracle’s name. The one who has sent me here.”
“It is also her, who restricts you from returning,” she answered smoothly.
“But why, mystic? Why would she have me here?”
“It is not her wish, King of Vampires.” The mystic spoke sadly. “She is detained in her pearl palace against her wishes. It is not the work of Vampires, Delaroth. She is bound by Eternal. And Eternal wishes to have you here.”
“For what? I haven’t been able to find her!”
“For how long must I be patient?” he hollered.
“You shall find her. Eternal had spoken to me before your arrival.” She spoke softly, unfazed by the tone of Delaroth’s voice.
“What if I do not find her?” he asked softly.
“Seek and ye shall find. Knock and it shall open.” She spoke as if she were reciting some old words she had forgotten she knew.
Bowing and thanking to the mystic, he proceeded to wander about the lanes of Greater Mrantis.
“Dracu. Sunt prins aici,” he cursed. Damn, he was trapped here.
She was driving back home. She had gotten her driver’s license three months ago, but she still wasn’t a good driver. When the car engine had failed, she was sure that she would never drive a car again.
“A public transport is better than this piece of junk,” she had cried before deciding to walk her way home. She had not gotten her phone, which wasn’t a new thing and it was getting dark. She was scared to hitch-hike. She couldn’t even call anyone for help. Mister Watson would be drunk by now.
The path was familiar. She had been here before. She realized that she had been here the day before. Her cheeks flushed as she thought of the embarrassing moment back then.
“Hey!” a voice called out to her. She looked to see the man she had accused of being a stalker.
“Oh, hey,” she replied.
“Nice seeing you again,” he smiled. “What brings you here at this time of the night?”
“Oh, my car broke down. I didn’t have a phone. So, I’m walking back home.”
“That is sad. I could drop you, you know.” He offered her help.
“Ah, no. That’s alright.” She didn’t want to cause any trouble for the man whom she had troubled already.
“Honestly, Miss Ethan. I can drop you home. It’s right next to Watson’s Butchery, isn’t it?” he smiled. Fear and panic arose in her. How did he know her last name? How did he know where she lived?
Oh, Heavens. He was a stalker.
She had no one to call for help.
Bracing for her fate, she screamed at the top of her lungs.
The familiar queer feeling engulfed Delaroth. Protect your Own.
He had to be somewhere. Images. He knew where to be. It was the earlier alley he had seen. Now, there was no sun. He could move wherever he wanted.
It was somewhere near. He could feel fear. Not his fear. Someone else’s fear. Protect your Own.
Without hesitation and a second thought, he dashed towards where the sound came from.
“Please, don’t hurt me,” she pleaded. She was walking backwards and he was closing in on her.
“Please, don’t do anything to me,” she begged. She was almost in tears. The man in front of her was unfazed, his smile grew with every whimper she made.
He was close to her. She could smell his body odour and felt repulsed by it.
“Please,” she cried, “Let me go.”
Shutting her eyes tight, she awaited her fate.
Mom and dad would be disappointed.
Levi would be hurt.
Arthur would be enraged.
The thudding of her heart overpowered her own shrieks.
She had not expected her life to end like this.
With every energy left in her body, she screamed.