Angels Trumpet

 *Ana*

The strange buzz awakens me. It takes a moment before I can place it, but when I do, I only grow more confused.

"Crickets?" My voice croaks, dry and crackly. My eyes flutter open, first met with the white lacy canopy overhead. The pillows beneath me feel slightly sticky from sweat. Am I still in bed?

I grimace, propping myself up on my arms as a sharp, burning rush sears up my nose. Pain crackles through my skull-hot, insistent-coiling above my brow where a vein throbs in angry protest. My head feels heavy, sluggish. I must have been asleep for quite some time. Then- cutting through the pain- I hear him.

"Good morning, sleepy head." 

"Cousin?" I groan as pillows suddenly fluff up from behind me, pushing me to sit up better. 

"Or should I say good night?"Mykhol chuckles, a gentle grin on his face-not the one he uses at court. This one reaches his eyes, warm and sincere.

"I've been waiting for you to wake up," He moves to pick up a curl, wrapping it around his finger before giving it a light pull. Then he grins, revealing his fangs in a playful tease before pressing a kiss to it. "I missed you." 

"Cousin," I murmur, barely having the energy to roll my eyes. Must he start so soon after I wake up? At least give me a grace period from his antics. But I swallow my exhaustion and distract myself.

My eyes shift around the room. Noting that it's late. Sometime into the night. But I think a day has passed.

The curtains over the window are moving gently. It's open. Letting in whatever cool air it can from the swampy heat in the room. Making it more clear why I heard crickets, now. Nothing out of the ordinary. But Naska is nowhere in sight. She must be out right now. 

Probably getting blood for me, and - my eyes narrow at something hanging out of the window. A string attached to a paper cup.

A string and a cup? I blink. What is that doing here?

"Oh!" My heart leaps into my throat, and I suddenly push back the covers.

"When did that get here?" I demand.

Mykhol follows my gaze but merely clicks his tongue, lifting a brow.

"Oh, that thing." He goes dryly before shrugging. "Some rude servant told me to throw one out the window." Mykhol then waved a hand dismissively. 

"Perhaps it's some Dawny thing?" Then, as if nothing had happened, he moved back for me. Reaching for a new curl.

"But, anyway, since it's just the two of us. How about we-"

"I can't believe someone knew about this," I interrupt, pushing the covers over my knees and swivel down to the rough rug. My mind racing as I charge over to pick it up.

I test the string. It's pulled tight, so it should work. But is the line long enough? And more importantly-

Is someone on the other end? 

I dart to the window to see below. The night is dark, but my eyes adjust, revealing square bushes and thick grass below. However, I see no one. The string disappears into the shadows.

"Ana?" Mykhol, meanwhile, stops to lean over me. His chest pressing against my shoulders as he now looks down. 

His heat radiates through the thin nightgown. Making me squirm. It's already hot in the room as it is. And he's much warmer to me, thanks to the blood loss.

But it's still too warm. And I have to move. Shifting my shoulder to make space before turning back to the cup.

"It's a makeshift telephone," I explain, lifting it to my ear. But there's nothing on the other end. Silence.

"A telo-what?" 

"Telegraph. It moves sound across a taut string," I clarify, leaning over the window sill again. Still don't see anyone though.

"Really?" Mykhol remarks, before he's over my shoulder again. His hot cheek brushing next to mine as he looks out. Again, making me feel too hot. 

"Yes. I've read all about it. It's a breakthrough in scientific circles." I nod, but twist my shoulder back to create space again. The window is big enough, he doesn't need to be that close.

"And the string?" Mykhol frowns when I move, almost offended.

"Stop that." I snap when he plucks the string. 

"Ana?" Mykhol lifts a shocked brow. But I just wag my head. Taking the cup over my mouth and attempting to speak into it.

"Hello? Anyone there?" 

I yank it back to my ear, holding my breath.

"Ana? What are you-"

"Shh," I hush him, stepping back.

Maybe they went to bed? I do note how late it is. But that just makes my chest heave a heavy sigh. Thinking I might be too late. 

I hold the cup protectively as if that could help. 

"Hello?" I try again, but softer this time. 

Behind me, Mykhol scuffs, crossing his arms.

"Enough, Ana. Stop playing with that thing and let me get you something to eat." He places firm hands on my shoulders and turns me around. "Otherwise, you'll be raving soon if you don't." 

"But cousin I-"

"Ana," Mykhol smiles, but his hand stays firm. He won't stop until I listen. 

Reluctantly, I sigh. "Fine, but let me just-" 

As I move to place the cup down, I feel it. The string moved, tugged from the other side.

"Wait!" I pull away and rush back to the window. But I still don't see anyone.

Did I imagine it? No, I'm sure I felt that. Someone pulled the string.

"Hello?" 

"Ana, stop being difficult. I want to feed you and-" Mykhol snaps, reaching for me again.

Then, I feel it again. A distinct tug. That time for sure. 

"Hold on, Cousin. Let me just-"

I press the cup back to my ear, desperate. 

Please, please, let someone be there! Can luck be with me for just this once? 

"Hello?"

"ELLO!" A thick accent calls back. 

My eyes widen. "Who is this?"

I peer down, still not seeing them. But then I do. Amazingly, I wonder how I could miss them. The giant girl emerges from below the ledge, lifting a lantern. Her large green eyes twinkle up at me.

"Hidi? What are you doing here?" 

She shrugs, pushing back her long yellow braid behind her shoulder. "I was in the area." 

"This late?"Suspicion laces my voice, looking after her. She wears a matching blue nightgown, robe, and house slippers. 

Before she can answer, footsteps crunch against the gravel. Another lantern appears—Nicoli. He reaches for the cup, but Hidi lifts a hand, making him frown.

But as he looked to start shouting something, Hidi pointed up to have him lift his head. When he looks up and spots me. His face brightens. 

"Ana! Hi!"

"Nicoli?" My heart flutters as the faint scent of firewood drifts up. I smile, unable to stop. It hurts my cheeks, but I don't care.

Hidi hands him the cup, which he snatches, pouting at her before swinging back to me.

"Ana!"

"Nicoli?" You're not mad, I yelled before? I am surprised to see him so quick to forget. Either way, I feel my chest lift.

"What is this?" I motion to the cup before realizing how very late it is. And how very young Nicoli still is. "You shouldn't be out this late. Go back to bed." 

Behind him, Hidi laughs, making him swat back at her. But the giant side-steps away with a loud laugh. Nicoli puffs but rolls his eyes before coming back.

"Not until I say what I want to say." 

"Alright, say it. But then I want you back to bed after this." Nicoli is still a boy, after all. He needs to sleep.

"Don't be so harsh on the boy, my dove." Another voice calls. It doesn't need the cup, as I can hear from below. The deep timber of his voice leading before I can see the candle illuminate his full-bearded grin.

Father just beams, stopping to rest a heavy hand on Nicoli's shoulder before turning up to me. His face looks tired, but his chuckle is warm. 

"Father!" I lift a breath at the sight, again surprised to see him here as well. But more than happy to find him. Mykhol, however, shifts back from my side. Softly mumbling under his breath. 

"...but this was supposed to be our time together…" 

"Mykhol?" I whisper, confusion tightening in my chest. What does he mean? But before I can dwell on it, the string tugs again, pulling my attention back to them.

"But it's dangerous," I protest, my voice uneven. "You shouldn't be here—any of you." The words come out firmer this time. They should be keeping their distance. Staying safe. Staying away from me.

Don't they realize what I could do to them? Aren't they afraid?

Father, however, just pushes Nicoli forward.

"Go on, son"

"Go away first." Nicoli flaps his hand to make both Hidi and Father laugh.

"Ah, yes, you said this was 'private.' I'll just be… over here." Father winks before stepping back, giving us space.

Hidi, however, doesn't budge.

"Hidi-"

"No, I'll stay, thank you," she says brightly, arms crossing over her blue robe. There's no hesitation, no intention of leaving. She's made up her mind.

Nicoli sighs, clearly realizing there's no point in arguing. It seems Hidi's charm is beginning to wear on him too. Instead of pushing back, he simply refocuses on me.

"Ana!" His enthusiasm returns, his voice full of urgency.

"Yes?"

"I need you to listen very carefully, okay?"

Then, with a dramatic inhale, he fills his lungs to the brim- before releasing it all in one rushed breath.

"Even if you want to eat me right now- I love you. And I will be waiting right here until you can come back out again."

"Nicoli…" The words come out in a strangled whisper as a rush of disbelief floods my chest. My heart stumbles in my ribcage, my mind reeling from his words. He's still here. Despite everything, despite last night, despite the danger I pose—he's still here.

I never thought he would be. I honestly believed he'd be afraid of me, of what I could become, even after his insistence last night. But here he is, standing in front of me, his confession hanging in the air like a fragile promise.

Tears prick at the backs of my eyes, and before I can stop them, one slips free, rolling down my cheek. I wasn't prepared for this. Not ready to have such devotion, to have him offer me love when I've only known life without it.

I never expected him to be this brave. To still try. To be willing to stay for me, even when I could hurt him. His words are too much. I'm shaking, overwhelmed by how much he cares. How can he still stand by me, even now?

I swallow, but the lump in my throat makes it impossible to speak, to form the words that could even begin to express what I feel. How could I ever deserve this? 

"Hey! Don't cry!" Nicoli panics immediately, his eyes widening before he grabs Father's arm. "Dad, she's crying!"

"Alright, my turn." Father takes the cup from Nicoli, making the boy frown.

"Hey! That's not what I meant—" Nicoli reaches for it, but Father simply ruffles his hair before turning to me.

"Listen, my baby girl, He's right. And we aren't going anywhere. So when this is over, and you've calmed down, we will welcome you back."

"You…don't think I'm a monster?" I ask hesitantly. 

"No. Never."

"Even if I-" I motion to my fangs, the source of all this trouble.

"We love you, Anastasia. We always will." Father affirms. As he does, Nicoli springs up to take over the cup.

"Ana! Are you bored up there?" He blurts out earnestly, making me have to pause there. 

Am I? 

I glance around the room. Mykhol is still here, but no longer by my side. Instead, he sits on the couch, very still. His crimson eyes are lost in the empty glass he holds. He's mumbling to himself.

"...should have burned it if I knew…not paying attention to me again…not fair…"

I lift a brow at the sight, but a tug on the cord brings me back. I find eager blue eyes blinking up at me with urgency.

"I- a little," I admit.

Nicoli brightens. "Then I'll be right back."

"What are you up to now?" Father seems just as curious as me.

"It's obvious," Nicoli declares, lifting his candle. He turns toward the castle.

"I'm getting some games for us to play."

"Games!" Hidi claps, her excitement booming as she turns to follow. "Oh ja! I like that idea!"

"Wait, you two, stop," I remember the hour. "This is no time to play."

But Father waves it off with a soft chuckle. "Let them be."

"Father…" I glance at him again. His face is weary, but his gaze is soft. There's a spark in his eyes, something youthful and warm despite his exhaustion.

"You alright?" he asks gently.

"I… it's fine. I'm eating." The words feel wrong, like something I shouldn't have to say aloud. Because what I'm eating-blood- could only make him uneasy. Disgusted. But to my surprise, he nods easily.

"It's perfectly normal, sweetie." His voice is steady, confident. No trace of doubt or revulsion.

"I…yes. I know."

"Let me know if you want anything, okay." He motions to the castle. "We are all here for you."

"I…thank you." My voice trembles as another tear slips free. 

"Thank you, all of you. If I had known-"

A sudden crash makes me turn. 

Glass shatters against the floor, scattering across the thick rose rug.

But it's not the mess that holds my attention. It's the smell.

A sharp, metallic tang fills the air, thick and overwhelming. My breath catches as my fangs tingle.

Mykhol is bleeding.

He stands with his hand outstretched, blood dripping steadily from his fingers, soaking into the rug with dull, rhythmic splatters.

"Mykhol?" My voice falters as something stirs inside me- a deep, aching hunger.

I swallow thickly, watching the crimson drops fall. The scent curls in my lungs, almost tangible, as if I can already taste it. My toes curl at the pull of bloodlust.

For a moment, Mykhol simply stares at his bleeding hand, crimson pooling in his palm, slipping between his fingers. The blood flows slowly, but it feels like it's filling the room, thickening the air. His gaze lingers on the scarlet mess, almost as if he's transfixed by it. 

Then, an unsettling smile begins to creep across his lips—a smile I've never seen before. It's wrong. Twisted. It twists the sharp angles of his face, and shadows seem to coil in the hollows beneath his eyes, darkening them, making them look too red, too bright.

"So now you remember me?" he murmurs, his voice distant. It's not the playful, teasing tone he usually wears. No, this is something colder.

Before I can react, the laughter bursts from him–jagged and raw, like the sound of something breaking. It rips through the stillness, filling the space between us with a cruel energy. His eyes burn with madness, and I flinch, unable to tear my gaze from him, even as my heart pounds painfully in my chest.

Just as quickly as it started, the laughter fades, leaving a lingering chill in the air. He pivots sharply, and with a fluid, almost predatory grace, strides toward the door, leaving a trail of blood in his wake like a dark signature.

The door clicks shut behind him. And just like that—he's gone.

I stand frozen, a cold shiver creeping down my spine, my mind racing to make sense of what just happened. But there's only one thing I know for sure—whatever I just saw, whatever I just felt... this isn't the Mykhol I know. I've never seen him like that before. His usual teasing, his flirtations- suddenly darker. 

Something's changed. And I don't understand what it is. 

Not yet, anyway.

"Everything alright?" Father prompts gently, pulling me back.

"Yes, just a glass fell." My hands tighten around the cup, and I shift, forcing a smile down at him. 

But even as I speak, the memory of his laughter lingers, gnawing at the edges of my mind. It echoes in the background, unsettling and persistent. Like a distant sound I can't place. It sits in my chest, an odd discomfort I can't shake, but I force myself to ignore it. 

It's just another one of Mykhol's strange moods—he always does as he wants. It's nothing I haven't seen before. Whatever is happening with him, it's just a passing phase. I won't let it bother me. I can't. There's no reason to worry. It's nothing.

"All is well in here."

At least, where I can see.