A WEEK OF PEACE IS A BAD OMEN

"Because in this world, peace has a price."

After he said that, he left. Hours passed, and as morning broke, he still hadn't returned. Instead, he sent someone to bring me a glass of blood inside the VIP Glass Dome. The same person came back in the morning, simply telling me I was free to go.

I went home feeling drained—not physically, but mentally. Each step back to my place felt heavier, the weight of the night's events clinging to me like a shadow, leaving me questioning every choice that had led me here.

I stayed in bed for hours, unmoving, not even bothering to adjust my posture.

Being a vampire had its perks; I could lie there for days, staring blankly at the ceiling without discomfort, letting my mind drift without a single pressing thought. It was almost peaceful, an escape from the weight of what had happened.

But the silence grew heavy, and soon, the emptiness I'd embraced started to feel like something more. I wasn't sure if I was finding peace—or if I was simply trying to hide from everything unraveling around me.

I never wanted someone to share my loneliness with. In fact, I found comfort in having only myself as company, in the silence where I didn't owe anyone an explanation for what I felt—or didn't feel.

For so long, solitude was my refuge, a shield from attachments that could complicate things or drag me deeper into chaos. I thought I'd be fine this way, that it was better to feel nothing than to feel vulnerable. But here I was, lying in silence, realizing the emptiness felt heavier than ever.

By Monday night, I finally gathered the energy to get up from bed. I'd spent nearly two days lying there, but it was time to shake it off. I changed into something comfortable and headed to work, hoping it would help clear my mind.

When I arrived on the production floor, I immediately went over to Aljon.

"Hey. Sorry about what happened Saturday night," I began, feeling the need to address the awkwardness from that night at the club. I hadn't seen him after everything went down.

"Sorry for what?" he asked, looking genuinely confused, his brow furrowed.

I froze. Did he forget everything that had happened? Or was he just pretending?

I paused for a moment, studying his expression. Aljon's confusion made me wonder if he was truly unaware or if he simply didn't want to discuss it. "You know, the incident at the club?" I pressed on, trying to gauge his reaction.

He shrugged, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Honestly, I've been caught up with work. My mind's been all over the place. But if you're referring to you disappearing, I thought maybe you just needed some space."

I felt a wave of relief wash over me. Perhaps he hadn't taken it as seriously as I did. "I guess I did," I admitted, forcing a small laugh. "Just needed to clear my head."

As we continued to chat, I could feel the weight of the weekend lifting slightly, replaced by a sense of normalcy. It was refreshing to share a moment of lightness amidst the chaos of my mind. But deep down, I knew that my solitude still lingered, ready to creep back in once the laughter faded.

- 

A week of peace felt like a bad omen.

It was as if the quiet was just a warning sign, hinting that something was brewing in the background. The calm left me feeling more anxious, and the weight of the silence threw me off-balance all week. My anxiety only worsened at work, where the constant noise became unbearable, overwhelming my hypersensitive ears. Every sound, no matter how faint, hit like a crashing wave, making my KPIs slip lower and lower.

"How are you, Fiera?" my team leader, Karla, asked as our one-on-one coaching session began, half an hour before my shift ended. Despite it being my day off, I honestly felt like working straight through the week.

"I think I'm fine," I lied. I was anything but fine. The truth was I couldn't control what I was hearing, and a gnawing hunger was growing within me—a craving for blood.

When was the last time I fed? Right, I drank that blood back at Argus Club. After learning where all the blood that I bought had come from, I couldn't bring myself to drink from the same source. Since then, I hadn't touched any real food either, leaving me feeling more like a hollow machine with fangs.

"Are you getting enough sleep?" Karla asked, her tone tinged with concern.

That was another issue—I hadn't slept at all since last Saturday. Each night, I'd just lie there, staring up at my ceiling until daylight crept into my apartment.

Karla sighed, her voice softening. "We've reviewed your recent performance, Fiera, and it's not looking great. But I'm not too worried because you're a great agent. I believe in you." She reached out, giving my hand a comforting squeeze. I could hear the steady beat of her heart, her genuine worry tempered with her usual calmness. In this entire company, she was probably the only team leader who could easily connect with people, making her popular among the agents.

"What I'm more concerned about," she continued, "is you. You look tired, like you're barely resting. I get that this job is exhausting, but when you're off work, you need to rest. Don't listen to the gossip around you."

Ah, yes, the gossip. Rumors had spread that I'd rejected Aljon, flirted with the owner of Argus Club, and entertained other men. They were painting me as some kind of villain, calling me names as though I were a plague. How the rumors spread so quickly, I couldn't tell. 

Even Aljon hadn't said a word in my defense. Instead, he'd just moved stations to avoid me. I'd thought things were okay when we spoke on Monday, but clearly, that wasn't the case. It was almost as though everyone had fallen under some spell that convinced them I was the bad guy.

Yet the rumors didn't faze me as much as the news I'd heard: four bodies had been found around Esperanza since Saturday night. All the victims were completely drained of blood, and oddly, they were all women, each 27 years old, each the eldest daughter in their family.

"Fiera?" Karla's voice pulled me back to the present. I blinked.

"Sorry. I'm fine. Really, don't worry about me," I replied, keeping my tone as steady as I could.

There wasn't much to say in response to the gossip anyway, since none of it was true. Besides, maybe it was better for people to keep their distance from me—it would spare them any trouble if something were to go wrong. My life was chaotic enough without pulling others into it.

After the coaching session, I finally headed home. But even as I neared my apartment, I sensed someone waiting inside. I could hear a heartbeat, steady breathing, even the faintest movements. And that scent… lavender?

Yes, it was him—the Argus Club owner. His presence was unmistakable, the rhythm of his heartbeat, the way he moved, even his scent was all too familiar. I couldn't explain it, but I just knew he was there, waiting.