Chapter 3 The memories

SERA POV

The rain wakes me.

It hammers against the window. It drips through the cracks in the ceiling. It pools on the floor in small, dark puddles.

I lie still. I do not move. I do not open my eyes. I just listen.

The rain sounds like screaming.

I know it is not screaming. I know it is just rain. But my mind does not care. My mind is a traitor. My mind takes everything and twists it into something terrible.

I open my eyes.

The ceiling is cracked. The plaster is peeling. The room is small ,dark and empty.

I am alone.

No-not alone. Maya is in the next room. I can hear her breathing. Slow. Steady. Safe.

I sit up. My body aches. My muscles are sore. My head is pounding. I did not sleep well. I never sleep well.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed. My feet touch the cold floor. The cold is sharp. The cold is real. It grounds me. It reminds me that I am awake. That I am alive.

I stand. I walk to the window. I look out at the street.

The rain is falling in sheets. The street is empty. The world is grey.

He is not there.

The Vampire King is not watching me. Not tonight. Not now.

I do not know if I am relieved or disappointed. I do not know what I feel.

I turn away from the window. I walk to the bathroom. I turn on the shower. The water is hot. The steam fills the room. I step inside. I let the water burn my skin. I let it wash away the night.

But it does not wash away the memories. Nothing washes away the memories.

The memory comes

I am ten years old.

I am standing in a room. The room is large. The room is cold. The walls are white. The floor is marble. There are no windows. There is no door.

I am alone.

No-not alone. There is a man. He is tall. He is beautiful. He has wings.

He is my father.

He kneels in front of me. His eyes are gold. His eyes are kind. But there is something else in his eyes. Something I do not understand. Something cold.

"Seraphina," he says. His voice is soft. His voice is gentle. "I need you to be brave."

I do not understand. I do not know what he means.

"Brave?" I repeat. "Why?"

He does not answer. He just looks at me. His eyes are sad.

"There is a man coming," he says. "He is going to take you somewhere. Somewhere far away. You need to go with him."

I shake my head. I do not want to go. I want to stay. I want to stay with him.

"No," I say. "I want to stay with you."

His face twists. For a moment-just a moment-he looks broken. Then the look is gone. His face is smooth. His face is cold.

"You cannot stay with me," he says. "I am sorry."

He stands. He turns. He walks toward the door. I ran after him. I grab his hand. His hand is cold.

"Please," I beg. "Please do not leave me. Please do not.

He pulls his hand away. He does not look at me. He does not see me. "I am sorry," he says again. He leaves. The door closes behind him. The room is silent.

I am alone.

The memory shifts

I am still ten years old.

I am in a cage.

The cage is small. The cage is dark. The cage is cold. I am curled in the corner. My knees are pulled to my chest. My arms are wrapped around my legs. I am trying to make myself small. I am trying to disappear.

But I cannot disappear. The cage is too small. The darkness is too thick. The cold is too deep.

The demon comes.

He is tall. He is thin. His skin is grey. His eyes are red. His smile is sharp.

"Little witch," he says. "Little hybrid. You are awake."

I do not respond. I do not move. I just stare.

He opens the cage. He reaches for me. His fingers are long. His fingers are sharp.

"Come," he says. "It is time to play."

I do not move. I do not speak. I just shake.

He grabs my arm. His grip is tight. His grip is bruising. He pulls me out of the cage. I stumble. I fell. He laughs.

"You are weak," he says. "You are pathetic. I am going to enjoy breaking you."

The pain. The darkness. The blood.

The memory shifts again

I am fifteen years old.

I am standing in a room. The room is on fire. The flames are everywhere. The smoke is thick. The heat is unbearable.

The demon is screaming.

He is on the floor. He is burning. His skin is melting. His eyes are wide.

"You little bitch," he snarls. "You will pay for this. You will pay."

I do not answer. I just watch him burn.

I am holding a log. The log is on fire. The fire is mine. The fire is alive.

I press the log against his face. He screams. He screams and screams and screams.

I do not stop. I do not feel pity. I do not feel guilt.

I feel nothing.

He dies. His body crumbles to ash. The fire spreads. The room is consumed.

I run.

I ran through the flames. I ran through the smoke. I ran through the pain.

My hand is burned. The pain is agony. But I will not stop. I cannot stop.

I escaped.

I am free.

The memory ends

I am standing in the shower.

The water is cold. The steam is gone. I do not know how long I have been standing here. Minutes? Hours?

I turn off the water. I step out of the shower. I wrap a towel around my body. I look at myself in the mirror.

My eyes are red. My face is pale. My hair is wet and tangled. I look like a ghost. I look like death.

But I am alive. I am still alive.

I press my hand against the mirror. The glass is cold. The glass is real.

"I survived," I whisper. "I survived."

The words feel hollow. The words feel empty. But they are true. I survived. I am here. I am alive.

I do not know if that is a blessing or a curse. I do not know if I want to be alive.

But I am. And I will not waste it.

Later that morning

Maya is in the kitchen.

She is making breakfast. Pancakes. Bacon. Eggs. The smell fills the apartment. It is warm. It is comforting.

She looks up when I walk in. Her eyes are worried. Her eyes are kind.

"You are awake," she says.

"I am," I say.

She does not ask if I slept. She does not ask if I had nightmares. She already knows the answers.

She slides a plate toward me. "Eat."

I sit. I pick up my fork. I eat.

The food is good. The food is real. It grounds me. It reminds me that I am here. That I am alive.

Maya sits across from me. She watches me. She does not speak. She just watches.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing," she says. "I am just... watching."

"Creepy."

She laughs. It is a small, soft sound. But it is a laugh.

"You are the creepy one," she says. "You are the one who hunts demons in the middle of the night."

We eat in silence. The rain continues to fall. The world is grey. But the kitchen is warm. The kitchen is safe.

I finished my food. I push my plate away. I look at Maya.

"I need to tell you something," I say.

She sets down her fork. She looks at me. Her eyes are serious. Her eyes are ready.

"What is it?" she asks.

I take a breath. I do not know how to say this. I do not know where to start.

"The demon," I say. "The one I killed last night. It said something."

Maya leans forward. "What did it say?"

"It said... it said the Vampire King is coming for me. It said he knows what I am. It said he knows where I am."

Maya's face pales. Her hands clench into fists.

"That is why you were so scared last night," she whispers. "That is why you were looking out the window." Yes, I answered

Maya stands. She walks to the window. She looks out. The street is empty. The rain is falling.

"He is not there now," she says.

"I know."

She turns. She looks at me. Her eyes are fierce.

"We need to do something," she says. "We need to prepare. We need to-"

"We need to wait," I say.

She stares at me. "Wait? Wait for what?"

"For him," I say. "He will come back. He always comes back."

Maya shakes her head. "This is insane. This is suicide. We need to run. We need to-"

"I am not running," I say. My voice is sharp

Maya stops. She looks at me. Her eyes are wide.

"Sera," she says. "Please. I cannot lose you."

I stand. I walk to her. I take her hands. Her hands are warm. Her hands are shaking.

"You will not lose me," I say. "I promise."

She does not believe me. I can see it in her eyes. But she does not argue. She just nods.

"Okay," she whispers. "Okay."

I hugged her. I hold her tight. I do not let go.

I do not know if I can keep my promise. I do not know if I will survive.

But I will try. For her. For myself.

I will try.

That night

I do feel like sleeping

I did not even try.

I sit by the window. I hold my dagger. I wait.

The rain has stopped. The sky is clear. The moon is full. The stars are bright.

The world is beautiful. The world is cruel.

I watch the street. I watch the shadows. I watch for him.

He does not come.

The hours pass. The night deepens. The world is still.

And then-a knock.

It is soft. It is gentle. It is polite.

I stand. I grip my dagger. I walk to the door. I look through the peephole.

He is there.

The Vampire King.

He is standing on my doorstep. His silver eyes gleam in the darkness. His hands are in his pockets. He looks calm. He looks patient.

He knocks again.

I do not move. I do not breathe. I just stare.

He tilts his head. He smiles.

"Seraphina," he says. His voice is muffled by the door. But I can hear it. I can feel it.

"I know you are there. I can hear your heartbeat."

I close my eyes. My heart is pounding. My hands are shaking.

"Go away," I say.

"I cannot," he says. "I have come too far."

"What do you want?"

There is a pause. Then-

"I want to talk."

I open my eyes. I look through the peephole. He is still there. He is still waiting.

"Talk?" I repeat. "You want to talk?"

"Yes," he says. "Just talk. Nothing more. I'll give you my word."

I laugh. It is a bitter sound.

"The word of a vampire," I say. "How comforting."

He does not laugh. He does not smile. He just waits.

"I will not hurt you," he says. "I cannot hurt you."

I freeze. "What do you mean?"

Another pause. Then-

"I will explain. But not through a door. Please. Let me in."

I do not move. I do not speak. I just think.

This is a trap. It has to be a trap. He is the Vampire King. He is a predator. He is dangerous.

But there is something in his voice. Something I have not heard before.

Desperation.

I made a decision. It is a stupid decision. It is a dangerous decision.

But I made it anyway.

I unlock the door. I opened it.

He is standing there. He is tall. He is beautiful. He is terrifying.

He looks at me. His silver eyes are soft. His silver eyes are sad.

"Thank you," he says.

I do not respond. I just step aside. I let him in.

He walks past me. He enters my apartment. He enters my life.

And I know-I know-that nothing will ever be the same.