"Silent Night, Whispered Sighs, A lone heart beats with secret cries."
.
The pungent scent of medicine and disinfectant filled the air as Doctor Ferguson carefully wrapped bandages around Belladonna's arm and wrist
The hospital ward was a labyrinthine room filled with rows of ornate, metal-framed beds, each adorned with crisp, white linens and surrounded by curtains that shimmered like moonlit silk. The walls were lined with shelves, bearing an assortment of peculiar medical contraptions, glowing vials, and ancient tomes bound in worn leather.
"Done!" Ferguson exclaimed, dropping the first aid kit. "Feeling better now?"
Belladonna nodded, her smile seeming slightly off as her gaze remained fixed on the hunter lying unconscious next to the bed beside her. "Yes," she replied, her eyes still locked on him. "What did you inject into him, Doctor?"
Ferguson didn't reply to the question. Instead, he pulled down his mask to reveal a scar running from his lip to his jaw. "Did you know why he attacked?"
Belladonna nodded. "He asked if I was injured. And as you saw, it's just a scratch, not deep at all."
Ferguson's eyes narrowed. "I see. Then I'll need to analyze your blood."
"Why?" Belladonna asked, her brow furrowing.
Ferguson's expression turned incredulous. "Your blood triggered his attack! Just a scratch... But I wonder—"
The hunter suddenly sat up as he heard their conversation, his eyes fixed intently on Belladonna, whose expression he could not tell. But, he however, said, "I haven't taken blood in a hundred years," he said, his voice calm and measured. "That, combined with the wild behavior, which....Your blood... There's something in your blood."
Belladonna felt unsafe as he said these words.
"I'm glad the doctor injected me with a nerve toxin. I might have drained half your blood in one gulp."
The hunter's words again sent a shiver down Belladonna's spine, his calm demeanor only adding to the fear he inspired.
Ferguson frowned. "As a vampire, you should know better than to attack a human. If you don't like human blood, why not drain animals in the forest? There are plenty to choose from."
The hunter added completely lost in thought, "A lady with no ordinary blood type!"
Ferguson shot him an annoyed glance. "That's for me to determine."
As tensions escalated, Belladonna intervened. "Let's put our differences aside for now and approach this calmly. First, what's your name?" she asked the hunter.
With half-closed lids, and a sarcastic look to the question, He would be stunning if he dropped the brooding act, she thought.
"Draven," he replied slowly.
"I'm Belladonna."
"Alright."
His curt response made her want to instill a wonderful finger art on his cheek, but his beauty tempered her annoyance. Without his hat and cloak, Belladonna saw Draven's true appearance – slender face, thin lips, dark circles under his eyes, and a pointed nose she envied. His golden eyes and pallid skin made him stand out. Definitely, he wasn't human.
Draven's attire however caught her attention - a black turtleneck sweater and trousers, cinched with a belt tighter than she thought possible. But it was his silver boots that truly stood out. Crafted from refined leather and silver, they seemed worth a small fortune, at least five thousand gold coins. Yet, no one in their right mind would purchase such extravagant footwear, except perhaps this enigmatic hunter. However, the boots had their advantages, enabling him to move silently on the snow, a skill only a vampire hunter could possess.
"So, Mister Hunter Draven..." Belladonna began, as he ran his fingers through his hair.
"Just Draven," he corrected, his gaze still downward.
"Mister Hunter Draven" she repeated, her voice firm. "What will you do now? You need a full bag of blood to recover."
"I can't," he said, his voice low and resolute.
"Why?" Belladonna pressed.
Draven paused, turning away before responding, "I made a promise to a friend, years ago, to abstain from blood until my end."
Ferguson's expression turned skeptical. "You expect to survive without blood? As a vampire, you'll become a raging beast without it. Or maybe you've forgotten what happened earlier?."
Draven gaze turned icy. "I've sustained myself on normal food for years. You can't imagine the difficulty, but I've trained myself..."
"Listen!...."
His eyes widened as he felt a gentle touch on his hands. Belladonna held them with a lightness that surprised him, and for the first time, he didn't recoil from a physical touch.
"....You have every reason to fear breaking your promise. But my aunt Mae always said, 'A promise to avoid chaos must be broken if it causes more harm.'"
Draven listened intently, his eyes fixed on hers, as she continued, "Mister Headstone has entrusted you with a great responsibility, and your inner weakness might hinder your progress. Yet, you've done well so far. Now, it's time to make a promise to yourself."
Taking a deep breath. He withdrew his hand from hers and after second, he said, "I will try."
Belladonna smiled, pleased with his decision.
On the other hand, Doctor Ferguson approached a shelf, retrieved a blood bag, and tossed it to Draven. "In case you agreed," he said. "Use it wisely; I don't often draw blood from healthy patients."
Draven examined the bag, the red liquid sloshing inside. Ferguson's emphasis on "healthy patients" lingered, a subtle reassurance. He whispered, "Maybe she's right."
The town's bell tolled suddenly and broke the silence. Ferguson frowned. "An emergency bell... I wonder why? It's winter's morning?"
Draven, already dressed, grasped his hat from the coat stand and turned to leave. "You're going?" Belladonna asked, surprised. "I have matters to attend," he replied, his eyes gleaming with a hint of sadness. "I apologize again, Lady Bella, for my earlier transgression."
With that, he left, leaving her with words of regret. But, Belladonna didn't see it like that. From her point of view, it sounded, "If you weren't in the way, I could have killed some of the beast by now."
"You owe me lots!" She stamped her feet and rushed after him, into the winter's chill. She observed the sky and it seemed a storm could indeed fall, casting a gloomy atmosphere over the town. As she followed Draven, the distant crowd in the town square grew louder, their voices weaving a sense of foreboding. The Vampire hunter hadn't gone far, so she decided to stay on his path, watching from the shadows as he approached the commotion.
"Beneath the veil, a prince disguise."
.
"Impossible, Mister Headstone!" Rosemary slammed her hand on the table, her voice echoing through the town square hall. The room fell silent, with all eyes fixed on the town's seamstress.
Belladonna navigated through the crowd, her gaze scanning the sea of worried faces. The entire town itself were seated around the table, each with a stake in Evergreen's wellbeing. Mrs. Rosemary continued, her voice laced with desperation, "My friend Maeve lies poisoned, and you expect me to remain silent? I won't stand idly by while she suffers!"
Belladonna's confusion deepened. She turned to the young lady beside her, "What's happening? Why the tension?"
The young lady's sorrowful expression sent a shiver down Belladonna's spine. "Mister Headstone wants us to leave town. He claims there's not enough food, and we must embark on a four-day journey to a nearby town, Ashwood which had surplus supplies."
Belladonna's eyes widened. "That's shocking! Can't we try to stay?"
The young lady shook her head. "That's the problem – we can't. Mister Headstone says our remaining food will only last four days, exactly the time needed to reach the other town."
Belladonna face turned sad, as she surveyed the room, she noticed the shared grim expressions. Fear and uncertainty hung in the air like a palpable mist.
Then suddenly, a name early called struck a chord – Maeve. Belladonna's thoughts racing, she turned to the young lady, her voice barely above a whisper, "Rosemary mentioned Maeve... poisoned?"
The young lady nodded, her concern mirrored on her face. "You're Aunt Mae's niece, Belladonna, aren't you?"
Belladonna's nod was met with the young lady's haunting words: "Your Aunt Mae was brought back by Master Lucas, who lost an arm. He passed out immediately after arriving at Ferguson's emergency ward."
Without another word, Belladonna dashed out of the town hall, into the snow-covered streets. The cold air silenced the world around her, but the young lady's words still echoed in her mind. She could barely hold her balance, When suddenly, a figure grasped her arm, steadying her. "This would be the second time I've saved you from kissing the snow."
"Draven!" Belladonna exclaimed as she turned to see him, her voice laced with relief.
The vampire hunter's gaze remained fixed ahead. "Be careful, or you'll end up like the ashes on the mud."
Releasing her arm, Draven walked alongside Belladonna toward Ferguson's hospital. Immediately entering, Belladonna rushed to her aunt's bedside, and she pitied the poor woman. Maeve's gasping breaths and purple-tinged lips sent a chill through her veins.
Lucas who sat opposite observed her caring Niece and offered reassuring words, "Doctor Ferguson injected her with painkillers and drugs to slow the poison's effect."
She nodded to this and as she turned to face him, Her eyes welled up with tears as she gazed at Lucas's bandaged stump. "Master Lucas, what actually happened?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Lucas's silence was deafening, his head hung low in despair. Draven intervened, his voice firm but gentle. "I'll do the talking. You, try to calm down, or you'll become another burden to them."
Belladonna nodded, taking a seat beside her aunt, her heart filled with prayers. Draven turned to Lucas and Ferguson, his expression serious. "Care to explain in detail?"
Lucas sighed, his eyes downcast. "We were attacked by giant worms... Worms with purple stingers and a screeching sound."
Draven's frown deepened. "You mean 'Skarvoks'? But they only emerge during rainy days to feed on forest animals. Which path did your carriage take?"
"The Eastside of the forest," Lucas replied, his voice weak. "The henchman drove us through that path."
Draven expression didn't change, "At least, you all were lucky not to meet your doom in the merchant's castle."
"Our doom—" Lucas worry increased, but just before he asked another question, Ferguson spoke up, directing nurses to administer a drip to Aunt Mae. "If it's Skarvok poison, I don't have the antidote. You can only find it in..."
"Ashwood...," Draven said, leading to Ferguson's nod, "A four-day journey from here."
The room fell silent, the weight of the situation settling in. Belladonna's worried gaze met the men's somber expressions. She had overheard everything.
"Will my Aunt die?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ferguson's response was swift. "Not necessarily. The initial drug will give her five days before the poison becomes fatal. She's a strong woman, but... something else is at play here. Something I can't quite guess." He looked closely at the woman and muttered, "She could have died the instant the Skarvok had attacked... But just as I noticed, something kept her alive."
The doctor didn't say anything to anyone he watched Belladonna grasped her aunt's cold hands, feeling the presence of Death looming over them.
*****
Minutes passed, as Doctor Ferguson tended to his patient, Lucas watched Draven exit the hospital. He followed, his voice low and menacing. "Hunter!"
Draven paused, his back still unturned. "If it's there something you need, I doubt I can provide it...."
Lucas's next words dripped with malice. "White hair, golden eyes, brooding hat, and silver boots, the tattoo of Grievances on your nape. You're a vampire, aren't you, Prince Vlad Valach, son of the alleged Vampire King?"
The wind howled, and Draven slowly turned, as he rubbed his nape, his gaze piercing. "What makes you think that? And how do you know about the tattoo?."
Lucas's eyes narrowed. "You're neither a vampire hunter or a half-vampire. Why is it, Prince?"
Draven's silence was oppressive, his gaze cold. He turned to leave, slowly disappearing into the snowy veil.
Lucas's voice echoed through the darkness. "I was among the survivors that night, in the village of Eldor, thirty-five years ago. I served you beer in the pub, asked you about how the plans of the Madman, Vor Ridger would be accomplished!"
Draven halted, his back still unturned. "I know who you are, Lucas. I didn't want to stir up painful memories. Farewell, and be cautious in Ashwood, tell Belladonna these words as well." With that, he vanished into the stormy night.
Lucas stood there, bewildered. Why would the powerful vampire prince roam the land, deceiving mortals he is but a mere half vampire.
Memories flooded back, sixteen years ago, in the small pub of Eldor. He had met the enigmatic stranger, Vlad Valach, with golden eyes, white silky hair, and pallid skin. The vampire prince had asked about the Madman, Vor, who would destroy the town with his wolves if not stopped.
The encounter had left an indelible mark on Lucas. He recalled the prince's words: "The Madman's power grows by the day. If he's not stopped, he'll bring ruin upon your lands."
Lucas's thoughts drifted back to their past alliance. He had wielded a sword, while Vlad unleashed his formidable powers, capable of destroying entire kingdoms.
The Vampire Prince's warning had come to pass. Their town was consumed by screams of terror as the Madman unleashed hell on Earth. Vlad fought valiantly to seal the gate of hell, but during this fight, he, Lucas, was trapped beneath burning ash and debris.
But, Vlad chose to save his life instead of closing the gate. The shadows escaped that stormy night. At the end, before they parted ways, Vlad had vowed to banish the shadows back to their realm.
Thirty-five years had passed, and Lucas was still haunted by questions. Why had Vlad saved him? And allowed the shadows to escape?. When he could have done both at the same time.
"I wonder if you ever caught those shadows," Lucas whispered, watching the winter wind sweep through the hospital's deserted streets. "I wonder if saving my life was your wisest decision. I wonder why you changed your name to Draven, hiding your true identity. And why do you dye your hair black?."
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