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Chapter 17 – The Predator Becomes Prey!
The room had become unnaturally cold. Moonlight poured through the tall windows of the Silverstin estate, its silver glow distorted into crimson hues by a strange aura filling the air. Eric Silverstin froze in place, his arrogant smirk faltering..
Marceline's eyes glowed like twin embers, locking onto him with an intensity that stole the breath from his lungs.
"No… this… this is impossible," Eric whispered, trying to laugh but finding his voice cracking instead.
On the bed, Marceline sat upright, her hair cascading around her face like a dark curtain. Her lips curled as if tasting the air, her fangs glinting faintly in the pale light. Her breathing was steady now, no longer showing the shallow gasps of a sick woman she was this evening.
Instead, each exhale carried a pressure, a weight that pressed against Eric's chest, forcing his heart to pound in panic.
She tilted her head slowly, predator-like, Marceline's eyes never leaving him.
"…Eric."
The way she said his name—low, resonant, unearthly—chilled him to his bones. I thought the soul reaper was coming for him.
Eric staggered back, his hand reaching instinctively to the dagger at his waist. The steel glinted as he yanked it free, holding it out in front of him.
"Don't you dare look at me like that! Do you have any idea who I am?!" His voice trembled, revealing the fear he desperately tried to conceal beneath a facade of bravado.
"..."
Marceline didn't answer. She slid off the bed, her bare jade-like feet touching the floor soundlessly. Her movements were fluid and inhumane in speed. She took a single step forward and then vanished with a whoosh.
Eric's heart raced as terror gripped him, the air thick with an unsettling tension. He could barely process what was happening as Marceline loomed before him, her presence both mesmerizing and terrifying.
"W-what do you want from me?" he stammered, his voice trembling as he struggled against her grip.
THUMP
THUMP
THUMP
The silence stretched painfully; he could only hear his heart beating, and it was frantic. He felt as if the shadows around them were conspiring against him, watching and waiting for the slightest mistake, heightening his sense of dread. Each breath he took felt like a desperate plea for survival.
Marceline's eyes glinted with a predatory hunger that sent chills down his spine. The ground felt unsteady beneath him, and he wished for nothing more than to escape her grasp. The depth of her gaze pierced through him, revealing a darkness that was both intoxicating and horrifying.
"Please," he whispered, the word barely escaping his lips, but it hung there, heavy with desperation. The reality of the situation washed over him—a terrifying acknowledgment that he was at her mercy, and his world could unravel in an instant.
She leaned closer, her lips brushing against the side of his neck. Eric's breath hitched. For the first time in his life, he was not the conqueror of beauties. He was
Now a prey to be conquered.
Marceline's claws tightened on his shoulder, and for one terrifying moment, he thought she would rip him apart.
But then… she stopped.
Marceline's eyes flickered, crimson dimming with sudden resistance. She jerked back, trembling violently as if waking from a trance. Her chest rose and fell in ragged breaths.
No… no, what am I doing? she thought, horrified. I almost… sank my teeth into his neck and drank his blood.
She staggered backward, pressing her hands to her mouth. Her claws retracted slightly, fangs retreating, though her crimson eyes still glowed faintly.
Eric slumped against the wall, his heart hammering in his chest. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he gasped for air. But his humiliation burned hotter than his fear.
"You…" he hissed, pointing a shaking finger at her. "You dare—dare to lay a hand on me?!"
Marceline didn't respond. She stared at her trembling hands, her mind a storm of fear and confusion. Her body was no longer her own—every part of her screamed for blood, for violence, for something unnatural.
Eric forced himself to his feet, rage twisting his features.
"I'll make you regret this, cousin. No one will believe you. No one will believe a beast in disguise!"
He spat the word beast with venom, his voice trembling between hatred and lingering fear.
Marceline's gaze finally lifted to meet his. The moonlight caught her crimson irises, and for an instant, Eric faltered again, shivering at the sight.
"…What am I?" she whispered, her voice cracking, not at him, but to herself.
Her words hung in the air, heavier than the silence that followed.
Eric's lips twisted into a sneer. "You're nothing, Marceline. Nothing but a lowly orphan. And I'll see to it the family knows about this incident."
He turned abruptly and stormed toward the door, though his steps were uneven, betraying how shaken he truly was. He left without looking back, slamming the door behind him.
The room fell silent.
Marceline collapsed to her knees, clutching her chest. Her body still thrummed with power, and a bit terrified.
She felt every heartbeat resonating through the estate, every drop of blood surging in the veins of the servants, her relatives, and even the vermin in the walls.
Her senses had exploded open, overwhelming her.
"No… no, this can't be real," she whispered, rocking slightly. "I'm not… I'm not a monster…"
But her reflection in the tall mirror by her bed betrayed her denial. Her eyes, glowing faint red. Her faintly elongated canines. There was an aura that shimmered around her skin like heat waves.
Her hands trembled as she reached out to touch her reflection.
"This isn't me…"
Something had changed. Something irreversible. Unknown to her he mutation was over and now "She was no longer human. She was a newborn vampire—a creature of hunger, bound to a destiny she did not yet understand."
---
In the dim light of the corridor, Eric leaned against the cool wall, his breath coming in ragged gasps. A surge of anger coursed through him, each heartbeat amplifying the rage that simmered just beneath the surface. The humiliation of that moment replayed in his mind like a relentless loop, and he clenched his fists tight enough to feel the sting of his nails digging into his palm.
"She dared humiliate me," he growled, trembling with fury. "She dared threaten me. I'll crush her… I'll see her destroyed." The bitter taste of vengeance coated his tongue, fueling his determination.
But with each thought of her piercing gaze, the way she had moved with such uncanny grace, he felt a creeping dread claw at the edges of his fury. It was a feeling he'd never known—a terrifying powerlessness. For the first time, Eric Silverstin was not in control, and the realization sent a chill racing through him.
"No!" he shouted into the emptiness, frustration boiling over. He couldn't stand the idea of being weak and being looked down upon.
The mere thought of it ignited a fire within him, one that he vowed would be unleashed. He wouldn't just confront her—he would annihilate her.
The warmth of his anger wrapped around him like a cloak, shielding him from the reality he loathed. He would claw his way back to power, even if it meant embracing the darkness within him.
---
Back inside, Marceline sat on the edge of her bed, head buried in her hands. The whispers from her dream still echoed faintly, ancient voices calling from some abyss.
She didn't know if she was cursed, infected, or something else entirely. But one thing was certain—her old life as Marceline Silverstin, the dutiful but overlooked member of the family, was over.
Something new had awakened inside her.
She lifted her head slowly, crimson eyes shimmering like bloodlit stars in the darkness.
"…What am I becoming?" she whispered into the silent room.
"The night offered no answers—only the relentless drum of her new, unnatural heartbeat."
To be continued…