A/N: Hello everyone! I know it's been a while. Besides trying to pick up where the last chapter left off, there have been a great bunch o' things going on in my life! Like that I graduated college! Yay! And I recently started interning at a magazine! Yay! But anyway, it's also kinda why I've been late with the chapter. And in case you're wondering, last fall I joined my university's newspaper and that's pretty much why the updates were sparse back then. Regardless, I'm working on organizing when I write my magazine articles along with my fanfics. Yep, fanfics. I have some more Monster High fics in the works! That's all I have to say.

Enjoy the chapter!

It was a wretchedly sunny day. Drapes were closed tightly upon every window of the Palace. What the vampires wouldn't kill for a couple of clouds.

Valentine had been in the Queen's room for only ten minutes and he was already driven mad. Though Nefera had asked for help, it took thirteen days of stubbornness and laziness for her to finally put Valentine's ideas into action. But this time she wasn't terse or rude and moody like she had when she pretended to be Frankie Stein.

No. Nefera had gone full-on diva. And in a nightgown, no less.

"VALENTINE!"

A mass of papers knocked the glass out of Valentine's hand. Blood splattered across his white shirt. He gaped at the mummy ghoul before stiffly wiping what remained on his lips. "What."

Nefera's hand was on her hip. She rolled her eyes. "Put that disgusting cup down and listen to me."

"Well, the first part is outta the way," Valentine muttered under his breath. He groaned. "Start from the beginning."

Nefera gasped. "I just read through the whole thing and you want me to start over?"

Valentine stood straight from his leaned position on the wall. "I wasn't listening, remember? Besides, you're never going to make any headway if you don't practice."

Nefera's glare bore into him like stakes. "Fine." She jutted out her arm and wagged her fingers. Valentine sighed and knelt to pick up the packet of sheets, then handed them to her. Nefera cleared her throat. She opened her mouth to speak but abruptly lifted her gaze from the packet. "Are you sure this isn't too much?"

Coming from you? Valentine sent her a stiff smile. "Not at all."

Nefera raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. Valentine found her expressions more sensible in her true body. "This had better be worth it."

Valentine made his way to the door and looked over his shoulder. "When have I ever failed you?"

Nefera grinned but didn't look him in the eye. "Get the servants to clean this mess. I'll practice on my own." She looked at him past her eyelashes and took swaying, deliberate steps toward him. "This time, I won't fail you."

Valentine narrowed his eyes. "Who do you think you're talking to? You can't fool me. I'd say you'd have better luck with Neighthan but," he chuckled, "you can't fool him now either."

The mummy ghoul scowled and turned her back on him. "You're still too sickly for my taste anyway." She shooed him away and she regained her composure in front of her enormous corpse flower. Valentine chuckled and happily shut the doors behind him on his way out.

-.-.-.-

Like most vampires, Valentine wasn't a fan of mirrors. But, like most vampires, he admitted they were useful. One look in the standing mirror and he knew that no amount of baking soda could salvage his bloodstained shirt. He grumbled and shut his bedroom door behind him. Despite it being nearly the same as the other vampire bedrooms with red walls and black gothic furniture, at least his was larger. Valentine laid his black uniform out on his coffin and unbuttoned his shirt. His frown deepened with every loose button. He was a haughty fool, going after the plant ghoul like he did. It wasn't the usual protocol. Being an emotional vampire, Valentine rarely drank directly from the source—that was something he usually left to the rest of the vampires under the Queen's roof. Despite that, they were required to drink a blood cocktail to maintain their strength. Blood from all kinds of monsters. Valentine could hardly stomach it, but he successfully managed to drink a cup every day. Yet of all the times he decided to take a chance and drink straight from the neck of a monster itself, the veins were poisoned. He ran a hand down his torso and shuddered.

For probably the first time in his unlife, Valentine was glad he couldn't see his reflection.

He hastily put on his uniform, which thankfully covered the majority of his body. He stroked his jaw. His skin felt like paper barely covering his sunken cheeks.

Valentine stared at the door and ran a hand through his hair. He knew cutting it meant it would take ages to grow back, but he wondered how much longer it would take to do so, considering his condition. The vampire shook his head and flopped backward into his coffin, the only difference between his and the others' being that it was elevated and spacious.

Empty, he always thought.

With a loud sigh, he pulled out his iCoffin. Valentine had endured centuries, but the heart of his unlife was always the same.

He was only a teenager.

A vampire's mind only matured so far past their death, yet he never felt it would be so great in only five years. But if he knew anything about living beyond a millennium, it was to adapt. Being on the Queen's side was one of the best gigs he could get. All these years, he thought he was helping the sweet and charitable Frankie Stein build a city. He believed he gave monsters a home in this new world, especially after the destruction of Monster High. After the debacle at the Fraidy Hawkins dance all those years ago, Valentine thought to work with the Queen was the greatest atonement for his sins.

But no matter how he spun it, he nearly single-handedly brought a cruel and selfish leader into rule. There was nothing he could do at this point but move forward. The least he could do was make sure the Queen's leadership remained the same controlled and quiet reign it had been.

Valentine's phone fell onto his nose and he groaned. He swatted it aside and leaned across his coffin to his nightstand. He opened the drawer and pulled out another phone. His older iCoffin. It slowly turned on and he went straight to the messages.

-I'm telling you KV... my new finder will be the death of me

-Well you did wanna be a genie :p

-Not funny :(

-Oh come on. Only 3 more wishes, right?

Valentine shut his phone off. His old messages with Whisp made his chest hurt like the rest of his body. Usually, he liked to see them for nostalgia's sake but today they felt wrong. Dirty.

He remembered the last time he saw Whisp. The Queen said she wanted her close. After everything that happened, who knew what havoc could be wreaked should someone get their hands on the genie? He told himself he did it for the good of the city, but it left a toll that made him regret his decision every day. He hadn't made one wish before he suddenly was unable to summon her anymore. A casual call of her name repeated more desperately over and over until his voice was hoarse and tears pricked from his eyes. He lived long enough to know what it meant.

In hopes of keeping her safe, all Valentine had done was put her in danger and now she was gone. Forever.

Forever was a simplistic word for a vampire or any of the undead, but it meant something different when forever preceded the word dead.

When he came to the Queen with the news, "Frankie" was sympathetic. Looking back, it was likely a charade. Now, he knew the Queen was pretentious and entitled. Maybe she didn't care in the first place. But it helped at the time. Valentine hurt because his best friend was gone, so he vowed to make a better world without her.

He shoved his old phone back into the drawer and snatched up his current one. Here, his messages were sparse. Valentine sighed and tucked it into his pocket.

There was a pounding at his door just as he rose to his feet. He swung it open to see Neighthan's fist in the air.

The zombiecorn brought it down sheepishly, then his mouth formed a thin line. "I need to speak with you."

Valentine smirked. "Do you now?"

"Yeah," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Can we speak in private?"

The vampire raised an eyebrow and took a step back as the zombiecorn entered. Looking at him, Valentine was once again reminded of the toll he had taken, as the black uniform was a perfect fit on the tall monster. The vampire shut the door behind him.

Neighthan nearly tripped as he turned to face him. "I thought you should be the first to know." He rubbed the back of his neck. "So, I went to visit Frankie and... she's... I don't know how to say this but she's not—"

"Frankie?" Valentine scoffed. "I know. Don't you realize I'd be the first to know?"

Neighthan's brows furrowed. "How are you so calm?"

Valentine crossed his arms. "She's not the ghoul we thought she was, but she's still the same Queen."

"She lied to us," Neighthan's voice rose. "All this time I thought I was supporting the ghoul of my—" He cleared his throat and shook his head. "I thought I was in love with her."

Valentine rubbed his temples. Despite his past, he did eventually come to realize what love truly meant. He'd seen the look in Neighthan's blue eyes all these years. The smiles that crossed his pretty boy face. Even when the Queen would retreat to solitude, anyone in the Palace noticed the glow radiating off him when he'd leave her room or stand by her throne. Whatever Neighthan had felt, it was unconditional. That was the love Valentine knew. But it seemed to be more. It was the incomprehensible thing he stole from unwitting ghouls for centuries. For years the Palace witnessed a deep, romantic, unrequited love.

Neighthan looked down and held his hands over his face. "But she's gone." He choked on her name, "Frankie was never here."

The vampire didn't know where to begin. He felt as if he stood beneath the sun. Here he was in front of a lovesick, grieving hybrid and his veins screamed for a snack to replace the one Nefera spilled. He grimaced. "Hey now, I know it's a shocker but..." Valentine couldn't bring himself to continue. There was nothing he could say. A corner of his lips upturned slightly, and he put his hand on the doorknob. "Maybe you should talk to your hybrid friends about it. I can't be much help I... I'm sorry."

Neighthan managed to regain his composure with a gentle exhale. Valentine opened the door and he walked out but turned to face him. "I can't think, Valentine. I don't know what to do. I..." His eyes shut for a moment. "I had different ideas for my life before this."

"Like I said, I think your hybrid friends—"

Neighthan let out a huff and turned on his heel with clenched fists. His footsteps echoed as he moved down the stairs. Valentine listened until they grew silent and sighed. He wasn't close to Neighthan or the other hybrids, and he never planned to be, but he'd never seen him behave in such a way.

Valentine closed the door behind him and made his way to the first floor. After glimpsing what Neighthan was going through, he was relieved Clawdeen hadn't been around the past couple weeks. He hadn't seen her since the incident, and he was even more thankful Spectra wasn't around to report on Nefera. The world wasn't ready. That and the ghost became an obnoxious flurry when her boyfriend visited for a night. Valentine's ears rung just thinking about it. The only resident he could stand was Twyla. She kept to herself and Valentine respected that, even if the last time he saw her was fleeing the palace with a group of rebels. Valentine suspected they were all cozying up with the rebels, but he wasn't worried. The stunt they pulled at the palace brought him a few steps back, but he was certain he could still move forward.

Soon, he found himself beneath the grand archways of what used to be the ballroom. Nefera threw many elaborate parties at the commencement of her reign, but when a year passed with no parties, the vampires used the space to train during the day. Some jogged laps as groups sparred on mats in the center. All of them a variety of skin tones and hair colors; all of them in the same black workout clothes.

"Hey, boss." Adrian jogged up to him, ice blue eyes glinting and sweat dripping from his forehead. "You look like you need a drink." He handed him a water bottle sloshing with red liquid.

Valentine wrinkled his nose. "No. Thanks." The blood mixture reeked. He gestured at the cooler on the floor nearby. "Hand me a straight one."

Adrian jogged over to the cooler and returned with another bottle, handing it to him.

Valentine took a swig, then he cleared his throat and twisted the cap back on. "How are the others doing?"

Adrian let out a loud exhale. "Not bad. Keeping up with training, feeding—"

"I mean with the Queen."

"Oh, they're doing fine." He looked over his shoulder for a moment. "Nothing's really changed for us. Can't say the same for the other monsters 'round here." Adrian turned back to Valentine and lowered his voice. "Hey, whatever happened to that plant ghoul? Besides the mess you're so clearly in."

"She was a friend of Clawdeen's," Valentine finally said. "She wanted to take care of the body."

Adrian grimaced but didn't say anything. After some silence, Valentine told him to get back to training and the other gave him a goofy salute before he joined the others.

Valentine took one last look at the vampires then turned back the way he came. When he joined the Queen, he helped her maintain her image; it was his specialty, after all. But when she appointed him the head of the law enforcement unit, he was at a loss. Yes, it gave him power as her right-hand man, but he didn't know how to manage what seemed like an army. Valentine was lucky to have found Adrian. The other vampire was apart of the country's army before he became a vampire, only to join all kinds of wars for centuries. If anyone knew how to keep these monsters in line, it was him. Adrian and even some of the other vampires' experiences helped Valentine learn and be confident in his abilities in no time.

He took a long sip from his bottle, relief flowing through him. He grabbed a black parasol before pushing open the palace doors. Valentine squinted as he stepped outside. The sunlight stung more than usual, even beneath the shade. He made his way along the palace grounds, only to hear the clomping of hooves once he made it to the garden.

"Hey!"

Valentine turned to see the harpy-centaur ghoul with her purple-feathered arms crossed. "How dare you?"

"Excuse me?"

She let out a huff. "This lie. The Queen's been lying to us this whole time and yet you're here acting like nothing's wrong. Have you even bothered to ask why she did this? She may as well be on trial for gore's sake!"

Valentine sighed. "Look, Avalon—"

"Avea."

"There's more to this than just her lie. Because soon, there's a whole city, hell, a whole world, that has to deal with this too. Right now, I'm trying to make sure things run just as smoothly as they always have."

Avea scoffed with a swish of her tail. "That's it? Damage control?"

"We don't need any trouble, Avea." Valentine looked straight into her eyes and took one step toward her. "That's all."

She looked him up and down. "No trouble, huh?" Avea shook her head. "The others and I aren't standing for this bullshit."

"Others?"

"The hybrids." Avea turned and flapped her green wings to take off. "You know, the ones you've lived with for five years. If you can remember their names."

Valentine grimaced as she flew off. "I know Sirena," he called out, but Avea was too far to hear. The mermaid-ghost would always be so distracted he'd run into her in the oddest of places. But he didn't recall the name of the pretty pink skeleton-moth. He sighed and made his way further into the garden. He made a mental note to consult some of the vampires and see what they had to make of Avea's outburst.

Normally, he'd only visit the garden at night but recently it was his only sanctuary. He made himself comfortable beneath the shade of a tree and let his parasol land on the ground beside him. Valentine took a long drink, then exhaled. His peace shattered with a pair of footsteps.

He stifled a groan. Those golden pumps were unmistakable. "What do you want?"

Nefera halted, her perfectly painted toes nearly touching his boots. Somehow, she made a nightgown look regal. "Follow me."

Valentine bit his tongue and rose to his feet, parasol once again in his grip. The Queen took his silence as an answer, and she led him out of the garden. The two were nearing the edges of the palace grounds when they stopped at a small wooden building.

The vampire raised an eyebrow. The shed was overgrown with masses of foliage. As far as he knew, it was replaced with a better shed for the gardeners' tools on the west side of the grounds. So he wondered why polished and particular Nefera was letting him inside.

"Don't look at me like that," she snapped.

Valentine hadn't realized he was making a face. He decided it best not to say anything and dropped his parasol as he followed her to the back of the shed, where she meticulously wrapped her fingers around a plank of wood and pulled it free. She turned to him. "After you."

Valentine straightened his uniform and ducked into the dark opening. He blinked up at the flickering fluorescent lights illuminating the long hallway stretched out before him. "So this is why it wasn't torn down," he muttered dryly.

Nefera was suddenly ahead of him, and he hastened after her. She made a sharp left and they made their way down another hall with a large metal door at the end. The Queen opened it with a swipe of her black card.

The first thing Valentine noticed was the smell engulfing his nostrils. He coughed and felt ready to retch before he recovered and took a look past the door. He took a step back. "What in the hell..."

Nefera leaned against the opened door. She tapped her foot. "See anyone you know?"

The vampire's eyes widened at the room that seemed to be endlessly filled with bodies. "I..." He was ready to say he didn't until he realized he did. Prisoners. All of them. He knew that sometimes the vampires would take advantage of them and they truly would be "put to death", like the rumors. But he didn't know it led to this. Some insane, horrific...

Collection, he thought. The word struck him harder than he expected. It wasn't long ago that he amassed his own sort of appalling collection.

"Why are there prisoners here?"

"I have Adrian help me out with them," she stated, observing her manicure. "My point is, do you see anyone familiar? Someone recent?"

Valentine would worry about Adrian and the Queen going behind his back a different time. They were dealing with corpses, after all. So for now, he answered the question. "Venus." He sighed. "Clawdeen caught me with her. She decided to take care of the body."

Nefera's purple gaze shot up at him. "Clawdeen. That would explain why she hasn't returned. The plant ghoul must've told her about the rebels that left her here." She scoffed and looked back at her nails. "Good luck getting to me with that kind of teamwork."

Valentine wrinkled his nose at the wafting scent. "Is that all?"

Nefera glared up at him. She smirked. "Yes." She inserted her car into the key slot for a few seconds and stood there, eyes locked with the vampire's.

He was about to leave when the room suddenly burst into flames. Nefera walked past him nonchalantly, the door left ajar. Valentine dashed at it and slammed the door shut. The fire raged inside, and the vampire's skin prickled. He looked down at his hands. Skin threatened to flake off his fingertips. He sighed. Fire was the last thing he needed when recovering. Valentine listened until the fire quelled, and he knew it was safe to leave the room. He made his way down the hall to take a right until a glimpse of gold glimmered in his vision. He continued onward and his jaw dropped. Valentine couldn't imagine the number of Egyptian artifacts that lay before him. He took further steps to observe them but unfortunately that was when Nefera decided to scream.

Valentine's first reaction was to sigh, but he held back. Nefera stormed out a door identical to the one on the opposite end of the hall.

"Something wrong, your majesty?" Valentine drawled.

Nefera blinked at him, then regained her composure with a roll of her eyes. "Everything is fine." She held her gaze on his a bit too long, and a wide smile spread across her face. "Everything is fine." She turned on her heels and strut out the room.

Valentine shook his head and jumped when the door suddenly slammed itself shut. After seeing the atrocities of the other door, he knew he wanted nothing to do with whatever horrors lay behind this one.