"Shh... It's okay, it's okay. We're safe. They won't see us here."
Two little girls curled themselves into a dark, narrow alley, the walls slick with filth and rot. They hid beneath a large, tattered cloak, hoping none of their kind—or half their kind—would notice them.
Syraeth, the older of the two, wrapped her arms around her twin sister. Despite the fear tightening her chest, she tried to appear strong—for both of them.
"I'm scared. What if they see us here? I don't want to go back there, soror." Nerisse whispered, clutching her tighter, burying herself in her sister's embrace.
"They won't. They shouldn't. It's dark here...they won't see us." Syraeth murmured, unsure whether she believed her own words. But it was all she could offer.
Some time passed and they heard footsteps and murmurs approaching their way.
The girls stiffened. Their breath caught. Fear escalated within their core as they crouched deeper, clinging to each other beneath the stifling cloak. The place reeked, the stench of rot mixing with the musty cloak almost suffocates them. But if enduring it meant survival, they would endure.
"I told you to watch them closely. You know how sly they are!" A man's voice —low, angry, familiar.
"I only looked away for one second. I did not know they'd bolt so fast," another man defended.
"One second or not, you should have not taken your eyes off them! Now we have got a problem. If the Domina finds out about this, we are dead. You know that, don't you?"
"I know, okay? But don't put these all on me. WE were both supposed to watch them. While I was out there doing my job, you were too busy getting drunk!"
"So now it's my fault? And you're blaming me for your negligence?—"
"Negligence?! You're the one neglecting your duty!"
The other man was about to speak up when a woman interrupted.
"Enough!" A woman's voice cut through their argument. Her face, half-lit in the alley's edge, crisscrossed with scars.
"Both of you—shut it. Blaming each other won't solve our problem. Besides, both of you are to blame anyway. Just find those brats before we all end up dead."
The men fell silent, exchanging bitter glares before stomping off in opposite directions.
The woman stayed a moment longer, muttering to herself, "Useless idiots. Should have watched the brats myself. Fucking morons..." She shoved her matted hairs behind her ears and walked away.
Stillness returned.
Syraeth cautiously peeked from beneath the cloak. She let out a slow breath. "Told you... we're safe. They did not see us."
Nerisse looked up at her. "Where do we go now?"
Syraeth hesitated. "I...I don't know."
In a world where both sides—vampire snd witch—saw them as abominations, there was no place to hide. No safety. Only silence, only running.
"Somewhere far... Somewhere safe?" Syraeth answered, but even as the words left her lips, she know the truth.
There was no such place. Only temporary refuge—until someone realized what they were.
When they were sure the coast was clear, the sister's step out from the alley. Hands tightly clasped, they run—not towards a destination, but away from everything.
Hoping the road ahead might lead to something softer than this life of shadows.
But having the luck they had, a man suddenly appeared in front of them—halting them in their tracks. It was the same man earlier. A mix of relief and irritation was painted to his face as he steps closer toward the little girls.
"You sly little brats. You're giving us headaches. Why can't you just behave and be a good little bastard, huh?"
"Soror," Nerisse uttered and held on tightly to her older twin.
"It's okay. Don't be scared. I won't let him touch us." Syraeth assured her sister despite the fear clawing up her own throat.
"Sta procul, tene te retro!" Syraeth shouted.
The man halted and creased his forehead. Unable to move his feet.
'It worked,' Syraeth thought to herself, almost not believing it.
But the man smirked and looked at her amused. "Do you really think that little shit would work on me? Try harder, brat." He said, then laughed—dark and cruel.
And then, all at once, the hand Syraeth was holding slipped away from her own.
"Gotcha!" said the other man from earlier, who now held Nerisse in a tight grip as she struggled to escape.
"Let go of my sister!" Syraeth screamed, running to him and punching his sides. "Let go of her—Dimitte!"
When the man did not let go of Nerisse, she sank her teeth into his arm—hard.
"Aww! You damn wench!"
He yelped and instantly released Nerisse, tending to his bleeding arm. The two girls took it as their chance to escape.
"Let's go!"
"You stupid moron! Why would you let the girl go—Hey! Come back here, you brats! HEY!" The other man shouted and run towards them.
"Run faster!" Syraeth urged her sister. Pulling her as they run for their lives.
But luck was truly black for them.
The man caught up to them—harshly yanking Nerisse away, tearing her from Syraeth's grip.
"Where do you think you're going? You think you can escape with these little twig legs, huh?" The man growled, grabbing Nerisse's leg and angrily folded it sideways.
The little girl let out a piercing scream.
"Wh-what are you doing?" Syraeth held her breath and her heart dropped in an instant to what she had just witnessed.
She stilled. Her limbs went numb as her eyes saw a bone peek through Nerisse's pale skin and blood squirted and follow through. Her mind went blank and all she could think was how her sister cry and scream in so much anguish. She just stood there, witnessing all of that when a shadow enveloped her vision.
And that was the last memory she remembers of her sister.