Breathing Corpse

The worst feeling of betrayal hit her, but what could she do? Nothing!

Marlowe was undeniably hurt—more so, a crack in her heart.

It seems she was right at first, she shouldn't have trusted a Vampire.

The greatest mistake that she had ever made.

"This way," said a middle aged woman dressed in a uniform which appeared to be a maid's own.

Marlowe was being led through a lengthy hall-way filled with many shut doors, that she couldn't see the end from.

She used her hands to wipe her tears that had trickled down even when she had tried forcing herself to not cry from how things turned out to be.

If only she knew, then maybe she'd have preferred to be eaten by those beasts than follow him; than believe him.

Was her fate here going to be any different?

A sad sob escaped her lips as it echoed vividly in the spacious hallway they walked through, but the woman in front of her couldn't care less.

Just then, they stopped in front of a door and the woman twisted the knob, motioning for her to get in.

Wary, Marlowe looked her in the face, hoping that the woman could see her fears. Yet the stone-like expression she had instantly made her frightened.

"What are you waiting for? Get in now."

Marlowe flinched from her harsh tone. Forcefully downing a spittle, she lowered her gaze and slowly strode in.

Only to hear the wicked bang of the door echoe in her ears, causing her to shake a bit.

The chimes of sad weeping and lamentations greeted her as she timidly sauntered further inside. She got to realize that she wasn't the only one inside this huge-looking enclosure.

There were five more girls present, looking like survivors instead of captives, from their bloodied dress and tattered appearance.

It didn't take long before Marlowe understood. They're girls who managed to survive the cruel attack from the monster's onslaught in the woods earlier that morning.

A shiver broke through her spine upon thinking about it. They were more than a hundred young ladies at that particular time…to think that only five survived?!

Suddenly she felt her body grow cold by this realization as she whimpered out loud.

The other girls turned to her direction as they heard slight sounds and movement coming from the entrance.

Their actions were mixed with petrification.

Marlowe watched as they skimmed her terrifyingly in silence. Before one dauntlessly walked up to her.

"Were you also thrown in here like the rest of us?" the girl asked. Her eyes were watery from lots of crying like the others—even hers as well.

Marlowe was quiet at first. Thrown? Not exactly, but if it's meant against her will, then yes, she was thrown in.

Marlowe bobbed her head in response.

She noticed the girl grow more anxious. "We are definitely doomed today," the girl said with her eyes darting around worriedly.

"I'm so scared," another girl with thick brown hair and blue eyes that had become dull, seconded from behind.

"We all are," another replied, clearly traumatized by the situation.

The girl standing in front of her gazed at her for a while before frowning. "How did you escape the attack? You don't look too injured."

And she was right. Except for the torn and muddied dress, nothing could give away that she was injured. But she could still feel the sores and ache in her swollen foot and back.

Marlowe ran her gaze through all of them, noticing their scratches and bruises on the visible part of their bodies.

"My carriage was hit and damaged, so I managed to slip away successfully," Marlowe replied in a low and raspy voice.

"Oh," replied one. "You're lucky."

"I won't say the same now considering the situation we are in," the black haired lady in front of her muttered with a shaky voice.

Marlowe returned her attention to her before she heard her say, "I wish I died in the woods instead of being held here."

Atleast, she wasn't the only one who prayed so. Marlowe thought.

Abruptly, the door creaked open, making them squirm in reflex. Revealing six women in maids attires.

Surprised, the girls didn't have time to react when they were immediately grabbed by each and taken to a connecting door in that same room which appeared to be a bathroom.

Forcefully, they were primmed and dressed by the maids.

Having not experienced such a thing before, Marlowe found herself in shock when the whole thing happened.

After being given proper gowns, they were told to dress and were taken to a different room which appeared to be a Hall. A hall they speculated was where the banquet was supposed to be held.

Yet surprisingly, there was no sign of such plans. It was as plain as day.

Leading to Marlowe's suspicion before…everything was indeed well planned.

Who could be so cruel? And for what reason?

It didn't take long after the maids left, the humongous mahogany double door was pushed open. Coming into sight was a familiar figure Marlowe remembered vividly…

Lord Zethan.

He appeared still donned in his armor which was in a terrible state. He too didn't look well. Which indicated that he had just arrived from the gruesome fight which may still be going on—judging from how strong and lethal those beasts appeared to be.

His hard expression didn't promise anything favorable from how he sized them up.

They girls quavered, hiding behind one another once they saw him. But were still sensible enough to bow in curtsey. "Good evening, my Lord," they echoed their respect with audible fear.

"With no further delay, we'll be getting this over with," he spoke with urgency, holding the fate of them all in his hands.

Of course, they understand what he meant by that as they trembled and shook in anxiety.

Some, already becoming a sobbing mess.

Marlowe was no exception either as she felt her legs go weak, and her hastened breath which went out of her control.

"A bride for the King will be chosen amongst you, and the rest of you…can go back home," Zethan concluded.

He's dark eyes surveying them all. And he knew they already had their hearts in their throat.

None of them was worthy of his King from how terrified they all were.

But with unwillingness in his heart, he pointed at one very girl who appeared calm on the outside, but was a breathing corpse internally.

"Marlowe Hebron Alnov," he called, his voice calm and composed.

"You'll be the King's bride."

He declared, throwing her off balance as she felt her whole world crashing down before her.

What she feared had eventually happened.