Author_Dunni

At day, he is the respectful, charming and simple Duke of Belmont. At night, he is a ruthless and deadly vampire, a threat to the society.


And, pretty but, naive Ember Hall, had managed to capture his heart. However, she was unaware of the doom that accompanied capturing the heart of the Duke Dallas. For all she knew, he was the charming, respectful Duke. 

But, oh how was she so wrong! 

He was the total opposite of everything he feigned to be.  

Dallas is danger. He breathes danger. Speaks danger. Every word from his lips is a promise of danger. 

And, when the weary sun retires into the depth of the sky at night, immediately replaced by the bright moon, Dallas eyes blares a daring red, his teeth grows it fangs and ruthlessly, he devours like a starving predator. And, he won't stop until he is soaked in blood.

~

And, dead in the eyes, he looked at me.

“Yes, I'm the devil. I thirst for blood and no matter how much you run, I will always find you. You can't escape me, Ember. I'm yours, forever. Till death do us path.”

He whispered, brushing a kiss on her quivering lips.

The Charming Duke Is A Ruthless Vampire At Night

Ember finds her knees going weak, and she immediately collapses onto the wooden floorboard of the cell.

The strange girl who accompanied Ember in the cell did report that the place was over 50 years old. So, of course, most of the facets used in constructing the place should be wearing out right about now.

But, should that be her concern at the moment?

She was reportedly at the mercy of death.

At this point, only two options presented themselves - either she died by getting tested by some sick psychopaths, or she took her own life.

One thing is for sure, both options included death.

She would be bled dry just to confirm if she was the monster they were in a desperate search for.

She balled her fist and faced the stranger again.

"How long have you been here for?"

She looked pale. Her skin was cracked. Yet, there wasn't any sign of assault. It could only indicate that she had been there for a very long time, and the assault they might have inflicted on her may have been turned to scar by the days.

It could only mean there was a third option.

Thus, she allowed herself to hang onto that last thread of hope.

"I don't know. I lost count of the years. But, I was brought in when this place was still under development."

Under development? That could only mean it had been long since she was brought into the place.

She said the place was over 50 years old, and it looked like it. The building had already begun losing its color and beauty.

The bars were rusty. The floorboard of the cell creaked as though any powerful stomp of the feet would bring it down in seconds.

The painting of the walls faded with a lot of aged messages on the wall, probably from past prisoners.

That means she could be a prisoner for over 50 years.

Ember's gaze found the girl again. It was insane. The girl had no sign of aging a day over 50.

"Are you going to keep gawking at me, or are you going to ask that big question everyone that had always come here asked?"

Ember frowned. She spoke like an expert. Like she had expected Ember's shock.

"Everyone had always known the moment I did the magic with their mouth. Why are you so slow?"

It crept Ember; she felt shivers running along her spine.

"I practice black magic. And, black magic practitioners do not know what death feels like."

"I don't grow old, either. If I were to count my age, I should be around 98 years."

Ember's eyes widened, almost popping out of its socket.

Her voice couldn't hide the shock.

The lady chuckled as if finding Ember's reaction amusing.

"Yes. And, I know the creature of these people. They were former hunters. They hang supernatural beings and kill them once they find one. They don't know what mercy is. And, they don't show it. Not even to a human like you."

The lady rested back, shutting her eyes.

"But, why are they still keeping you here after they learned that you are not the monster they are in search of?"

"As long as I'm supernatural, I qualify to be their prisoner. Now, can you be a dear and allow me some sleep?"

Ember sighed, resting back against the bar.

Dark Creek - a prison for supernatural beings.

'There is no escape'. The words of the lady rang in her ear as she watched her sleep peacefully as if she did not worry about this world.

Well, she was a witch, and the magic she practiced somehow kept her from dying, so she was right about having the soundest sleep.

But, what about her? She would die, and her family wouldn't even find her body for a proper funeral.

The Duke would also announce, excitedly, that the devil that had haunted them had been caught and killed.

Tears slipped down her face, silent sobs following thereafter.

The Dark Creek