The Grandeur Mansion

The vampire leads them through the dark street, her every step reluctant. After a while, they reach an old huge mansion on the outskirts of the town. The structure is crumbling, with ivy crawling up the walls, and there is an ominous presence emanating from within.

When the vampire pushes the door open, Marx and Cherie exchange glances. The interior is dimly lit by flickering candles, casting eerie shadows on the walls. As they venture deeper, they enter a grand, decrepit hall where the scent of decay linger in the air.

"My lady!" the female vampire shouted.

At the far end of the room, laying a stunning beautiful woman. Her beauty is almost otherworldly, with long, raven black-hair cascading over her shoulder and piercing red eyes that glow in the dark. She wore a flowing, white gown tainted in red blood that clung to her perfect form, and her lips curled into a smile as she regarded the intruder.

"Oh my," she purred, her voice melodic and chilling. "You got my maids."

The female vampire tries to escape but Cherie manages to catch her by pulling her back hair. Cherie stretched his hand toward Marx, in which he handed over the silver dagger to Cherie, and in a split second Cherie thrust the dagger into the female vampire without even changing his expression or look at the creature.

"No one says you would avoid death." Cherie said. 

As Marx watches on Cherie, he can feel that Cherie seems to carry quite a deep grudges toward vampires that he treats them like an object even though they are formal human. 

Each time he fights with them, he shows no mercy and even goes all out no matter the vampires are weak or strong. This kind of bothers Marx who prefers to do things in moderation, not excessive, as long as the mission is completed.

Cherie suddenly turns his attention to the darkened corridor, he seems to pick up another vampire presence in the mansion. Cherie swiftly tosses the silver dagger back to Marx, "take care of her." his voice low and urgent, "there's another one."

Before Cherie walked away, Marx pulled his arm. "Take care of yourself." his voice faint.

Cherie held his footstep for a second to look at Marx. "don't worry." he said while flashing a quick, reassuring grin.

Marx closes his eyes, he isn't worried about Cherie safety but his wildness. 

"Your friends are quite a thing," her voice smooth. 

Marx takes a step to approach the vampire, but in a blink of an eye, the vampire has brought Marx onto her bed, sitting on his stomach. 

"I've been waiting for a long time."

Cherie's hair flutters when a gust of wind blows from the hall, he turns back to look at the hall entrance from a far, but no one is there. 

Cherie continues his pursuit, following his instinct. Whoever or whatever is hiding within these walls is unlike any other vampire he had encountered before. It might be the one he is looking for.

Finally, Cherie reaches a door at the end of the narrow hallway. The presence is strong here, Cherie pushes the door open and steps inside. 

The room is pitch black, the only light coming from the faint glow of the moon through a small, grimy window. As his eyes adjust to darkness, Cherie sees a figure standing in the center of the room—a tall figure, wearing gardener attire.

Fifty years ago.

A young lady who lives within a big mansion, brought the most captivating sight with her beautiful dance surrounded by a lush garden where every flower bloomed in perfect harmony with the season everyday to the resident of the mansion.

Lady Rosie, the sixteen years old daughter of Lord and Lady Thompson, was a vision of beauty and grace. Her long, raven black hair cascaded in soft waves down her back, her eyes sparkling with a joy that only youth could possess. She was the pride of the family with her talent of ballet. 

"So beautiful my dear daughter," Lady Thompson said lovingly. While her father applauded with pride.

Lady Rosie ends her dance with a reverence to her parents who are watching as audience at their mansion garden. "Thank you, my dear audience." She jokingly said it to her parents then threw herself into her mother's arm.

"Mother, do you think I could become the most famous ballerina in England?" her eyes sparkling.

Lady Thompson softly pressed on her daughter's nose tip, "Of course you are my dear. You are the best ballerina I have ever seen." She smiles.

Rosie is in joy hearing it but still couldn't confine so she asks her father, "How about father? What do you think?"

Lord Thompson glances at his wife and pretends to take a second to think about Rosie's question. "Hmmm."

Rosie is looking at her father nervously. "Quickly father. You are taking too long." she said worriedly.

"Well, I didn't really paying enough attention just now, If you can dance—-"

Before Lord Thompson could finish his sentences, Rosie immediately said, "I will dance again. Please watch closely, father." there's determination in her eyes.

When Rosie dances, her slender body moving with elegance, the flowers around her seem to mirror the brightness in her heart, and the soft breeze carries the sweet scent of nature. Rosie would dance for hours, her feet barely touching the ground as she twirls and leaps, as if the earth couldn't hold her down.

And there, hiding among the hedges and flowerbeds, is Frank, the gardener's son, a seventeen year old tall man. 

"What are you doing?" a faint voice suddenly ringing at Frank's ear very closely.

Frank jumps shockingly with the sudden approach, and later finds out it was his father, Thomas. "Father, you are scaring me." His heart is still pounding nonstop.

"You are secretly peeking at Lady Rosie again, aren't you?"

Frank is indeed captivated by Lady Rosie's beauty and grace; he watches her everyday, mesmerized by the way she moves, as though she were an angel ascending from heaven to bless the earth with her presence. 

Thomas glanced at his son, "Don't do something stupid. Do your work. She is beyond your reach." he said that and walked away to continue his work.

Frank himself clearly knows the difference between human and angel, they live in different realms, just as the same as he and Lady Rosie. He simply just a gardener lives in the same mansion.

One day, the mansion is alive with excitement, finally the day has come for Rosie to conquer the ballet stage with her beautiful dance moves. Buzzing with anticipation for the departure of Lady Rosie, everyone, from the butler and cook, the maids to the gardener, had gathered at the front door to see her off.

Rosie emerges from the grand entrance of the mansion, wearing a pale blue dress that flows like water around her feet. Her black hair is pulled back into an elegant bun, accentuating the delicate feature of her face.

As she descended the steps, a gentle smile played on her lips, her eyes sparkling with joy and excitement that only a young girl about to fulfill her dream could possess.

The butler steps forward, a slight bow of respect as he presents her with a bouquet of lilies. "For your success, my lady." He said, his voice with pride.

Rose accepts the flower with a gracious nod. "Thank you everyone, I want to thank you for all your support, it means the world to me that I have such a wonderful family here." Her smile widening.

A chorus of cheer and applause erupted from the crowd, each person eager to convey their admiration and encouragement. As Rosie walked past them, she took a moment to exchange a few words with them, her demeanor warm and genuine.

When she reaches Frank, the gardener's son, she pauses. Frank is standing a bit apart from the other, his hands clasp nervously in front of him. His cheeks flush when Lady Rosie approaches him, her smile soft and kind.

"Frank," her voice gentle, "thank you for always watching me. Knowing you're there in the garden makes me like I'm truly alive."

Frank's heart swells with emotion. He had always admired Rosie from afar, captivated by her dance, "It's an honor, my lady." he managed to say it with his trembling voice. "You're the most talented ballerina I have ever seen."

Rosie's eyes shine with gratitude, "Thank you, that means so much to me." With a final grateful glance, she turns and makes her way to the waiting carriage, the lilies cradle in her arms.

As the carriage pulls away, the staff wave and cheer, their voice carrying in the breeze. Frank watches until the carriage disappears from view, his heart filled with a mix of pride and longing.

And it is the last time Frank sees the soft and kind smile from Lady Rosie.