Nightmare

The fresh air sneaking through the slightly open window and the pleasant sunlight shining down.

The chirping of birds and the fluttering curtains in the breeze. Everything was peaceful and lazy. Except for one person.

Except for Clayton, the owner of this room.

He, who had been asleep on the sofa, suddenly jolted up as if having a seizure.

His sweat-soaked hair and wrinkled shirt showed that he had been writhing in pain just moments ago.

"Haah, haah...."

Clayton gasped for air like someone who had been holding their breath for a long time. His breathing was rough, like someone who had been sinking endlessly into the deep sea and had just barely swum to the surface.

"Damn it."

He looked around as if trying to assess the situation, then, realizing the reality, spat out some curses.

He roughly untied his tie, which was pulled tight up to his neck, and got up from his seat.

His entire body was soaked, as if he had just taken a shower, from how much sweat he had shed while sleeping.

He had that dream again.

The dream that had tormented him for over a decade.

The woman's scream, which seemed to tear at her throat, and the baby's cry, which rang out as if it would strike his ears, were so vivid that it felt like reality.

And the bright red blood pouring out, as if it would soak the floor.

Not only did it stain the room entirely red, but the blood, which seemed to threaten to choke him to death, would not fade from his mind.

Clayton, unknowingly trembling, tried to calm his shaking hand and approached the desk to grab a cigar. He then naturally put it in his mouth and lit it.

It was only after taking a deep puff from the cigar that his trembling body calmed down slightly.

"I'm hungry."

And then, as if waiting, the hunger surged. But this hunger could not be satisfied by food.

It was that damn blood, the very blood he found terrifying and disgusting. And...

For a moment, Dahlia's face flashed through his mind.

"Shit."

He bit his lip. Since the first time he smelled Dahlia's blood, there had never been a moment when he didn't feel thirsty.

No matter how much water he drank or how strong a cigar he smoked, his throat remained dry. Drinking someone else's blood seemed to provide some relief, but only for a very short time.

His body desperately craved Dahlia's blood. If this continued...

At that moment, Clayton was struck by a terrible thought and muttered self-deprecatingly.

"Monster-like bastard."

If this isn't a monster, then what is it? He craves his wife's blood, and these horrible creatures are born only able to drink their mother's blood from the moment they are born.

"From now on, call her mother."

Eight years old.

The woman who came in with his father was barely over twenty, a young woman.

"You must be Clayton. I look forward to working with you."

The scent of his mother's skin.

His mother's warm embrace.

Since he had never felt anything like it, he was simply glad that the woman who said she would be his mother was willing.

Until he saw her die while giving birth to his sibling.

He furrowed his brow as he recalled something he didn't want to remember.

The unpleasant emotions and the hunger that returned made his nerves more sensitive.

He took a deep breath while holding the cigar and exhaled. The white smoke scattered into the air.

Only after the strong scent spread throughout the room did the smell of Dahlia's blood that lingered at the tip of his nose seem to fade a little.

Clayton, who had been staring indifferently at the white smoke floating in the room, walked towards the terrace.

Then, the forest he had played in as a child came into view at a glance.

Looking at the forest that held those memories, he realized there had once been a time when he lived like a human, but the moment he became a monster clung to him relentlessly.

He wanted to forget but couldn't, and wanted to escape but couldn't.

Just as it was natural to see this forest when stepping onto the terrace.

As usual, he was silently gazing at the forest, where the sound of grass swaying in the wind could be heard.

A familiar figure emerged from the forest, looking around.

It was Dahlia.

It was a surprise to see Dahlia unexpectedly, but it was only for a moment. His gaze, which had been focused on her face, shifted downwards.

She was not alone. In her arms, tangled with leaves here and there, was a kitten.

Dahlia, seemingly unaware that someone was watching her from above, was whispering something to the kitten.

Though the distance was quite far, Dahlia's voice was inaudible, but it was clear she was speaking to the orphaned kitten in her arms.

And that was enough to remind Clayton of his unpleasant past.

"Why of all times..."

The timing couldn't have been worse.

It was as confusing and uncomfortable as the nightmare that came without warning.

What's more, the scent of Dahlia, carried by the wind, brushed against his nose.

Tsk.

Clayton, roughly rubbing out his cigar, grabbed the jacket he had placed on the chair and walked out of the room.

He couldn't stay in this place any longer, in the same space as Dahlia.

* * *

Meanwhile, Dahlia, returning to the mansion with the kitten in her arms, asked the maid to bring food for the kitten.

"Can you bring something the kitten can eat?"

"Yes, my lady."

And as soon as the maid left, Jason appeared with a bewildered expression and asked.

"My lady. What exactly is this kitten...?"

"Oh, I found it crying while I was taking a walk. It seemed to have been abandoned by its mother since it was limping. I couldn't just leave it there, so I brought it in. Since it's fate, may I keep it?"

"Well, that..."

Contrary to what she expected, Jason avoided her gaze, looking uncomfortable.

"My lady, I'm sorry, but you cannot keep a cat in the mansion."

"Yes? Why?"

At Jason's words, Dahlia looked up from petting the kitten.

"The Duke doesn't like cats. In fact, he dislikes them. So, please give the kitten to me. I will handle it."

As she saw Jason trying to take the kitten away, Dahlia quickly turned her body around.

"Handle it? Are you saying you're going to throw it outside?"

What's so difficult about keeping a small kitten in this large mansion? And as far as she remembers, the Duke doesn't have any cat allergies.

So, even if the Duke dislikes it, Dahlia thought she could keep it without him noticing, and responded lightly.

"Then, I just need to be careful not to let the Duke see it and..."

"No."

Hearing the familiar voice from above, both Jason and Dahlia turned their heads.

Clayton was standing on the stairs, staring at the two of them.

Clayton looked at Dahlia once, then glanced at the kitten in her arms before coming down the stairs with a cold expression.

"Jason, throw that outside."

"...Yes. Understood."

At Clayton's command, Jason took the kitten from Dahlia's arms and gestured to the servant nearby.

In a daze, Dahlia, whose kitten was taken from her arms, tried to grab Clayton as he passed by.

"Wait, just a moment! Duke! I'll keep it out of sight! At least until it finds its owner..."

Slap.

Dahlia's hand, struck by Clayton, lost its way in the air.

In fact, his slap was so hard that the back of Dahlia's hand started to turn red.

"Duke...?"

Dahlia, shocked, covered her reddened hand and looked at Clayton with trembling eyes.

He too seemed unsure of what he had done, his gaze wavering. But soon, he bit his lip and turned away, leaving the mansion.

"..."

Dahlia, silently staring at Clayton's back, let out a short sigh as he disappeared into the carriage.

"No, what's wrong with him?"

It was utter bewilderment. Even if he disliked cats, was it really necessary for him to act that way?

Of course, she hadn't known he disliked them so much and had brought the kitten to the mansion without saying anything, but it had originally been a cat from the mansion's forest.

If keeping it in the mansion was forbidden, she thought it wouldn't be so hard to at least take care of it until a good owner could be found.

Dahlia, a little hurt by Clayton's behavior just now, pouted her lips.

Then, Jason, who had been fidgeting, approached her.

"My lady, the Duke has bad memories of cats from his childhood. Since then, it has been taboo to privately keep small animals, including cats, in the mansion. I hope you understand."

"Bad memories?"

Dahlia tilted her head at his words.

"He has bad memories about cats? Strange. I don't remember such an episode in the original."

If he disliked them that much, it must have been some traumatic event. But she couldn't remember anything.

Since she had no idea, Dahlia simply asked outright.

"What happened?"

"That..."

But Jason, seeming unable to answer, avoided her gaze.

"I'm sorry. It's not something I can speak about. But you will find out eventually."

So, please don't be too upset, and wait a little longer, he added.

It was clear she couldn't press him further after he said that. The only response Dahlia could give was a nod.

So, Dahlia decided to handle what she could do right now.

"Alright. Then give me the kitten. I'll ask someone I trust to take care of it."

Dahlia took the kitten in her arms, thinking of someone's face.