A feast of crimson and shadows

Once again, Cora was pulled into a dream—the same dream—but this time, it did not end where it usually did.

She found herself in a grand ballroom, a place frozen in time, untouched by the modern world. The air carried the scent of candle wax and aged wine, mingled with something richer, something metallic. Aristocrats dressed in elegant medieval finery moved in rhythmic unison, their laughter floating through the golden glow of chandeliers. But as her eyes adjusted, Cora's stomach twisted.

Not all of them were human.

Their crimson eyes gleamed through the dim light, pupils constricting unnaturally as they watched their human companions. The vampires weren't even trying to hide what they were. Some openly licked the remnants of red from their lips the glasses in their hands revealing it's contents, while others whispered in hushed tones, their eyes sharp and predatory.

Cora's breath hitched as her gaze landed on a familiar figure. The same woman she had seen at the clock tower was standing there, dressed in an opulent, deep-blue gown embroidered with silver thread. Her beauty was ethereal, otherworldly. She stood apart, her gaze distant as though she did not belong among them, yet she did not move to leave.

A sudden clinking sound silenced the room. A woman in royal garments raised her glass, and immediately, every guest turned toward the elevated dais where the rulers sat.

"We gather tonight to celebrate the birth of our beloved queen, Her Majesty Lana Ravenscroft."

Lana Ravenscroft.

The name sent a strange chill through Cora, a flicker of recognition at the edges of her consciousness. The queen sat beside the king, her beauty almost terrifying in its perfection. A five-year-old boy sat on her lap, his small hands gripping the folds of her gown. Even from across the room, his eyes glowed a deep, haunting crimson, as if he had already been tainted by whatever darkness ruled this court.

The celebration resumed, the music swelling as couples twirled across the floor.

Then came the gifts.

One by one, noble families stepped forward, presenting extravagant treasures—jewel-encrusted daggers, golden goblets, and rare gemstones. Then, the murmurs hushed as the final presenter stepped forward. A princess, clad in silver, gestured toward a group of servants.

Cora watched as four men dragged a large wooden crate into the center of the room. The moment it was set upright and unlatched, the panels fell away, revealing a glass case filled with water.

Cora's stomach dropped.

Inside was a mermaid.

The creature trembled, its fingers pressed against the glass, terror reflected in its deep, knowing eyes. Pale scales shimmered under the candlelight, and its long, silver-blue hair fanned out like wisps of smoke in the water. It was breathtaking, impossibly beautiful—yet helpless.

A deafening silence settled over the room.

The queen's lips curled into a delighted smile. "I love this."

"I am glad you do, mother-in-law," the princess replied sweetly.

A chill ran through Cora. She wanted to step forward, to stop this. But her body remained frozen in place, as though she were merely a spectator, bound to witness without interfering.

"Bring the knives," the princess ordered.

The words sent a jolt of horror through Cora.

A flurry of movement followed. Servants scurried forward, carrying long, gleaming butcher knives. The mermaid thrashed, her hands slamming against the glass, mouth moving frantically in a language the others could not understand.

But Cora could.

"Please… please don't do this. I have a family. A child waiting for me."

Her voice, though silent to them, rang in Cora's ears like a desperate melody.

A heavy lid was lifted from the glass case, and two men seized the mermaid's arm, yanking it out of the water. A scream—unheard by all but Cora—echoed through the ballroom.

The queen took her time, inhaling deeply before sinking her fangs into the creature's delicate wrist. Her eyes darkened, her body shuddering in pleasure.

"That's one precious gift you've brought me, Evelyn," she purred.

The little boy on her lap licked his lips.

The mermaid's struggles weakened as the servants hauled her from the water, laying her across a long, polished table. Her silver tail glistened, twitching weakly as the knives came down.

The king stood, as did the prince. They fed alongside the queen, drinking deep from the mermaid's lifeblood. Around the room, more eyes glowed, mouths parting in anticipation as the scent filled the air.

Cora's hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. Tears stung her eyes as the mermaid's body convulsed once, twice—then went still.

In the distance, movement caught her attention.

The woman from the clock tower had turned away from the feast, slipping silently through an open door.

Cora felt a pull, an invisible force drawing her toward her.

Darkness swirled.

She was no longer in the ballroom.

She stood inside a chamber lit only by flickering candlelight. The woman stood before a wooden desk, her hands trembling as she shoved items into a small leather satchel. Her breath hitched, a single tear slipping down her cheek as she turned toward the door.

She was running.

Why?

Before Cora could step forward, a voice whispered behind her.

"Why are you crying?"

Cora's eyes fluttered open, her body jerking upright.

Amelia was leaning over her, brow furrowed in concern.

Cora's throat was dry. She could still hear the echoes of the ballroom, the whispers of the mermaid's pleas.

She had never seen such cruelty before. Never known the depths of darkness that lurked beneath the surface of this place.

A single thought gripped her.

"We live among them."

Her voice was hoarse. "What are the odds of leaving this island… and never coming back?"

Amelia's expression was that of someone confused.

"None."