Chapter 10

Why did you stop him? I didn't want to live, so what is the need to save someone like me? I have many things I wanted to scream at the person who is still standing in the air, but somehow I am not letting out a single word.

"But still I can hear you clearly, so stop thinking useless things," He spoke with an unsettling calmness.

He can hear me?

"Yes, so just shut up," he retorted, his tone dripping with impatience.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice shaking slightly.

"Do I have a reason to answer your stupid questions?" he replied dismissively, his demeanor growing colder.

His temper is worse. Whatever...

"I didn't ask you to save me, so why did you do that?" I yelled at him without a second thought, frustration bubbling within me, though I soon realized that I made a mistake.

He quickly grabbed my whole neck with his single hand and pinned me to the wall harshly. My head hit the wall, causing a sharp pain to shoot through my skull.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice laced with an eerie calmness.

"Of course it does... you stupid!" I hissed through clenched teeth, the pain throbbing at the back of my head.

"I see," He said and slowly raised me up in the air, holding my neck. I can't breathe. He is holding my neck so tightly.

"Didn't you want to die? I can kill you too," He spoke, and a light flashed on him suddenly.

"You shouldn't do that, Lord Manik!" Someone yelled.

He left me suddenly, and I fell down on the ground, coughing.

"If you want to die so eagerly, die by yourself," He spoke, and I saw his face.

He has deep red eyes. His wings are pitch black. His body is pure white. He has fangs. He looks muscular and tall. He has a small beard. He looks gorgeous.

"I know," He replied, his voice calm yet commanding.

"That's not for you!!"

Meanwhile, a person ran towards him.

"Lord Manik, you should not kill someone so easily. We have our ru--"

"Do I have to learn MY rules from someone like YOU now?" He glared at him with intensity, a deathly stare that sent shivers down my spine. The other person cowered in fear.

"I apologize, my lord," he bowed hastily.

Manik? Lord? Vampire?

He suddenly turned towards me.

"You look kind of familiar," he spoke, coming awfully close to my face.

"I---I didn't see you anywhere before," I stammered, feeling intimidated by his presence.

"That might be true too. I might not forget an ugly face like yours."

"Ugly???"

"Lord Adil!! What happened?" The other person's screams disturbed me.

"Lock him in the dungeon," Asher ordered, his tone firm and authoritative.

"Yes, my lord," the other person or the other vampire spoke as he took Adil in his arms and soon flew away.

"You saw too much to let you walk out of here alive," he spoke again, advancing towards me.

I flinched and took a step back. Wait. Why am I retreating? I thought I was fine with dying.

"Then why did you save me before?"

It almost sounds like I'm asking him to try killing me again!

"Because Adil would be crushed if he saw that he killed you with his own hands," he spoke, his gaze averted.

"Anyway," he continued, looking straight into my eyes.

His red eyes were mesmerizing. They felt like a ray of warm sunshine on a very cool day, pulling me in. I felt like I was drowning in them, feeling strangely addicted.

"Forget everything you saw today."

-----------

"Die!" My father squeezed my neck as hard as he could. This was different from before. He was really trying to kill me!

Should I fight back? Did I even have the right to live? I killed my mother, his love. He was angry, so I should bear it, right?

As his grip tightened, my desire to push him away grew stronger.

I couldn't breathe. Let go of me, father. Don't kill me. I'm sorry that mom died because of me. But please, don't kill me.

Father!

Father!!

Father!!!!!

The sudden transition from the vivid nightmare to waking reality left me disoriented. As I scanned my surroundings, I realized I was lying on my bed, safe and sound. But the lingering fear from the dream still clung to me like a shadow.

It felt so real. The hatred in my father's eyes, his hands around my neck... Did he truly despise me enough to want me dead?

How did I even get back home? The last thing I remembered was spending time with Adil, as we often did. We shared dinner, and talked for hours at the park, his presence soothing like a balm to my troubled soul. And yet, his eyes held a different kind of warmth tonight, a tenderness that made my heart flutter.

Returning home, we shared a simple meal of noodles, the comfort of each other's company easing the tension between us. We watched a movie together before he left, and I locked the door behind him, settling down for the night.

But now, as I tried to piece together the events of the evening, everything felt strangely distant, as if I had read about it in a book or seen it in a movie. The memories were there, but they lacked the clarity of true recollection. Was it just fatigue playing tricks on my mind?

Shaking off the unease, I resolved to put the unsettling thoughts aside and get some much-needed rest. Closing my eyes, I welcomed the embrace of sleep, hoping for a more peaceful night ahead.

The morning sunlight streamed through my window, pulling me out of the haunting depths of another nightmare. Once again, I found myself trapped in the clutches of my father's rage, his hands wrapped around my neck, squeezing the life out of me.

The pain was unbearable, suffocating me as if each breath could be my last. And then, just when I felt myself slipping away, a voice cut through the darkness like a ray of light. It was commanding, and authoritative, and it spoke with a power that seemed to quell the storm raging within me.

"Stop."

With those simple words, my father's grip loosened, releasing me from the grip of his violence. But as I struggled to regain my breath, I realized that the voice belonged to someone else, someone I couldn't see.

He was a presence, tall and imposing, his presence commanding respect and fear in equal measure. Though I couldn't see his face, I could feel the weight of his gaze upon me, scrutinizing me with an intensity that made me feel small and insignificant.

"Do you want to die?" His question hung in the air, heavy with meaning and implications that I couldn't begin to comprehend.

Do I want to die? The question echoed in my mind, demanding an answer that I wasn't sure I had. Was I ready to embrace death as an escape from the pain and turmoil of my existence? Or did I still cling to the flicker of hope that whispered of a better tomorrow?

In that moment of uncertainty, I found myself at a crossroads, torn between the darkness of my past and the uncertain promise of the future. And as I searched for the words to respond, I realized that the answer lay not in death, but in the courage to keep fighting, to keep hoping, no matter how bleak the path ahead may seem.