A/N: I think I am updating regularly now –sobs-
I am really trying hard to update. I am not going anywhere this year for the summer break, which means I have more time, but I feel so… I don't know how to describe it. I feel like, 'Why am I even writing this?' because this fiction is based almost entirely on Ferid's past and his ties to all the different people. I feel like any moment now, Takaya Kagami will release what happened in his past and my story won't make sense anymore.
Sorry for the rant, here is the chapter you came here for-
It was, in the least, absolutely boring. What fun was it to reside safely in a room which looked like a hotel suite and just… lay in bed all day? I also occasionally had my blood taken, which adds to the cruelty. I liked the idea of being sucked in that way, but I hated the anemia.
Sometimes the most sumptuous luxury could be tiring, like in my case.
So, what choice was this curious presence that dwelled within me left with? The only sane option I was left with was to exit the damned room. I wasn't allowed to leave the mansion, I strictly wasn't. The only times I left this room was to use the restroom or to shower. I have lived a year and a half this way.
It was so excruciatingly monotonous and unquestionably tedious.
I lay there, on top of the sheets, thinking of the most incoherent things. The topics in my mind change rapidly, I didn't have enough time to remember what I was thinking about. Then, in a sudden change of events, my mind wandered to …Mika.
I hadn't seen him in quite a few days. How was he doing? I was fully aware he refuses to drink human blood, and I don't think living on a vampires' blood is that easy. It was then I realized I hadn't had much, no, any, human contact in the past year.
No, Ferid does not identify as human. Nonetheless, I did enjoy his company. Where was he? The thought hadn't occurred to me before. Where does he go? At the most random of times, he grabs his weapon, and tells me, "I'll be back soon."
I never really questioned him about where he went. It wasn't any of my business, and I felt it would anger him. The most unusual of things angers him.
-Flash back-
I stared at myself in the large piece of the looking-glass. I decided to put up my long hair in a bunch of self-thought ideas (more like a pathetic excuse of hairstyling), because what else was a bored girl with inhumanly long tresses supposed to do?
I had quite the tight ringlets when I was fourteen. They were pretty short, too. But during these few months, I had stopped caring for this laughable apology of locks. The curls also grew loose. I shampooed it ever-so-rarely, but that was mostly because the shampoo in this place smelled vaguely like tomato-flavored spaghetti.
Maybe that explains why Ferid always smells so… delicious.
That was the weirdest thing I've ever thought. Mentally slapping myself, I vowed to never do any more unholy, sinful thinking ever again.
Anyway, I admire the gorgeous hairdo I did all on my own. These strands of hair, that would probably be rotting, didn't fall off my head because of how much concentration and carefulness Ferid treated them with.
My hair reached my knees when it wasn't tied, annoying as it was, it was also quite pretty.
The thing resting on my skull was something I figured out all by myself, not quite literally though, because I always watched Ferid's fingers' swift movements every time he braided my hair in this way. It was apparently called a 'French-styled braid'. He would part my hair from the middle, braid the two sections of it, and then curl them up into small, cute, messy buns which I personally thought I looked adorable in.
This hairstyle, though, was a distorted version. It was a single braid going down my back, but since I couldn't do it without looking at what I was doing in the mirror, it ended up being slightly pushed to the side, and it seemed to be stuck in that way. A lot of my hair escaped while I was trying my hardest to do this hairdo, and it ended up framing my face, which surprisingly looked good. It reached my waist.
I heard the door softly creak as it opened, and a familiar, tall figure entered the large room. My face brightened instantly and I greeted him, showing off my new hairstyle.
"Look at this, would you? I did it all by myself! Doesn't it-!" I was cut off when I looked at the extreme hurt and betrayal in Ferid's expression. "What's…?" I was about to ask him what was wrong, but then, again, I was cut off.
In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of me. Frighteningly close, at that. I wasn't able to see his features as he was tall enough to reach out of my view. Suddenly, he grabbed the end of my tresses, wrapped it around his tightly closed fist, and pulled harshly. I am sure a quarter of my hair was pulled out in the process.
I let out a short, soft yelp before he pulled harder. I was forced to move my head back, and lower in order to suppress the excruciating pain. I whimpered subtly before he bought his lips close to my ear.
"If that braid is going to continue being occupied by those locks of yours, I suggest you get out of my sight…or else, things will get ugly."
Icily, he whispered those words into my ear, letting his white-knuckled fists get loose. As soon as he let go of my hair, I slipped out of his firm grasp and moved a few feet back. He unceasingly stared at me with aloof, distant eyes as I stuttered my short words of apologies to him. I didn't know what I had done wrong and what I needed to apologize for.
I stopped stammering my incoherent remarks and bolted out of the door, closing it with a faint clack that assured me the door wasn't going to open anytime soon.
I walked sullenly into the restroom and closed the large, marble door with elaborate designs on them and turned the white and gold key in an anti-clockwise direction. Hearing the gentle noise of the lock put me at ease.
I was alone.
I walked up to the huge lavatory mirror and stared right into it, right into my depressed eyes. The sockets where my eyeballs resided started to fill with the salty, unwelcome liquid while I delicately sniffled. Just what had I done wrong? What had triggered him so horribly?
I worked hard on the braid.
'…Do I really look that bad?'
-End of Flash back-
Ever since that day, I stopped asking him things without thinking deeply about it first. Absolutely anything could spark some terrible fire of anguish and irritation that dwelled in him, the one I knew next to nothing about.
I sat up on the soft sheets of the grand Queen-sized bed, my feet hitting the soft carpeted floor beneath. The fabric was maroon colored with small golden dots on it. Sadly, my room wasn't carpeted so beautifully. Maybe because it wasn't meant to be used a room.
Ferid had a large, walk-in closet. It had all types of clothes, from different countries like India or Europe. I always failed to understand why he owned so many articles of clothing; he wore only one outfit. During my free time, which I had plenty of; I would try on the countless number of apparels.
The end of the huge chamber was another room. It was small, narrow, and had a low ceiling, but it was enough to fit just a bed in. The mansion's design was that of an ancient European castle, and every antique palace has an emergency exit in the main room, right?
This room, situated inside the closet of the rulers' chamber (Ferid's room), was supposed to be an escape route. There was a wide board on the floor, which could easily fit a person inside, locked by the old type of latches. It was not padlocked, just closed.
Apparently, Ferid told me this latch led to confusing tunnels, which guides you to the basement, through which you can escape via the back door. It sounded confusing and I never had any intension of opening that wooden board.
Then I remembered my intention of wanting to do something even mildly fun or interesting.
I trotted over to the front door, opened it slowly, and soon found the vampire guards staring suspiciously at me. I gave them a friendly smile before the first one shrugged, and turned around.
I breathed a sigh of relief. They weren't apprehensive.
I walked casually down the hallway a few feet, before taking a turn to the right. I had absolutely no idea where I was going but I was headed somewhere.
I was so distracted by the frames, the portraits, the paintings. Most of them consisted of this gorgeous woman with light brown hair pulled into a bun, wearing a long, frilly, red gown and she was standing with a walking stick. The names under the portrait read, 'Adela Bathory. Age 34. Born on 2nd November, 1593. Died on 4th December, 1626. Will be remembered as the greatest queen in history.'
Adela, hmm… I couldn't really figure out the origin of the name. But her surname was 'Bathory'. That must mean she's related to Ferid. There were more portraits, though only four of them, of another woman who looked considerably younger. She wore her strawberry blond hair in a braid and had a spiteful look on her face every frame.
The plate under her portraits said, 'Estelle Margaret. Age 21. Born on 13th of January, 1612. Went missing on 31st of October, 1633. She will be missed.' Her surname was not Bathory. Why would he have a picture of this woman in his hallways? I felt an unholy pang of immature jealousy.
Wait… if Adela was the queen of the place, and Ferid was related to her, doesn't that mean he would be royalty too? Strange. I intended on asking him about this when we next met.
I walked further down the hallways. The portraits of both, Estelle and Adela were decreasing. I reached another turn, where the portraits weren't pinned onto the walls anymore. There weren't any in this new hallway.
Thankfully, at the end of this corridor, was a staircase. It went upwards to the left, and downwards to the right. If I traveled down, I would reach the main entrance after a few floors, and then not be allowed to pass the exit. So I decided to head up.
I walked up one flight of stairs, two, three, and I started to get tired. Another flight, and then there was another floor. This place seemed…kind of isolated. I didn't see or hear anyone around. Also, the lights were dimmed, the only thing illuminating the place was the candlelight from the stairs.
I grabbed one of the candles hurriedly, and scurried into the first room. Was I looking for danger? Was I walking right into the trap? I had not a single idea. All I wanted at that point was to know more about Estelle Margaret.
The room had a horrifying atmosphere. It was hot, humid, and most of all, dusty. I sneezed unceasingly as I moved the candle around to see well. Nothing. There was an old study table and a chair covered with a white cloth that had started accumulating dust. Nothing suspicious.
The thought did run across my mind to lift the cloth to see if I could find anything under it, a book, a journal, a piece of jewelry; anything. But I didn't because, you know, I had a terrible phobia of bugs and rodents alike. I giggled gently to myself when I realized I was acting like a detective trying to solve a mystery.
I felt a strong sensation at the back of my throat, and instantly knew there was going to be another sneeze. A very vicious one. But it never came. Oh, that terrible feeling where you can feel the sneeze happening but can't produce it.
Anyway, I continued on to the other rooms. They all were spacious, dark and dusty like the first one, and had different pieces of furniture in them. One had two couches, one had a huge bed, and another had a dining table. They all were covered with sheets in white color.
One thing I couldn't make out is why was everything so dusty and covered with fabric? It was like it wasn't being used at all. Certainly something dubious.
I stepped out of the last room I explored, and noticed that there was no possible way to go in the second hallway that occupied the floor. The roof looked like it had caved in quite a while ago. The broken wooden slabs and debris would make it impossible for a large person to go in there.
But I was quite tiny and thin. I could fit through the small opening in the left bottom corner easily. But then again, there was that undying dread of bugs and rats. It also meant getting dust in my hair, which Ferid took care of as if it was his own.
Instead, I decided to kick the hole repeatedly to make a larger entrance, and possibly scare all the bugs away. I knew I wouldn't be able to do much damage, being the anemic, helpless pest I was, but it was worth a try.
With all my might, I gave a sharp kick. Rats and spiders scurried from underneath, which wasn't really a surprise, but I still jumped and started thrashing my feet, flailing my arms about, forgetting I was holding a candle. The hole did tear up a bit, and the entrance was large enough.
Oh, dear God, how I hated spiders. I absolutely despised every one of those that existed on the very surface of this planet. Even lizards are acceptable. But no, definitely not spiders. They scared every bit of hope I had left for this world. I feel like World Peace will only be accomplished after they exterminate every spider in existence.
I squeezed myself carefully, making sure not to damage my hair. Then I arched my back, moving slowly but surely through the narrow hole. Jesus, there were so many dust bunnies. The whole way through the hole, I refrained from sneezing, which was considerably difficult.
Then I straightened my form and peered into the darkness, the candlelight only illuminating a bit of what was around. There were more rooms on the far side of wall now.
Something really confused me. It was strange. There was one room located closest to me, it was illuminated. There was either someone inside or someone had forgotten to switch the lights off. Each way, I wanted to go in and see.
I crept through the corridor, and leaning on the wall, I peeked inside. I wasn't able to see clearly. But I was able to make out a human-like figure sitting and it was… holding some papers? I wasn't sure, maybe it was going through books, but I surely heard the rustling of manuscripts.
Leaning more into the doorframe, I accidentally lost my balance and fell face-first on the floor. Probably the most stupid thing I've done yet. Falling on your face is not a very polite way to greet a stranger, is it?
Thankfully, the floor didn't collide with the front of my face. My nose could have broken! Instead I landed on my side, made a terrible thumping noise, and the visitor looked at the unwanted companion.
I only had a minor bruise on my left cheek. Nothing serious, I was fine.
I looked up at the man, my eyes lolling in their socket before finally focusing wholly. The first thing I saw was not his bright, cream-colored hair, but instead his familiar, sapphire-like cerulean blue orbs.
"…"
"…Mika?"
A/N: YESS! There is a cliffhanger! Not very high of a cliff, but still full of suspense, right?
At least I hope so.
Anyway, I am sick in reality and just needed to take out the frustration of sneezing in words. Oops.
See you in the next chapter then! - {hopefully a cliffhanger}
Legend-chi~
