Chapter 29

"Go where? I'm not stepping a foot out of this house looking like this," I protested, crossing my arms defensively. Diana and Nancy exchanged knowing glances. "You'll know when we get there," Diana said, her tone firm and unyielding. Reluctantly, I dressed and followed them out. We took a bus straight to the hospital.

As we approached the hospital, my heart sank to my stomach. I hated anything to do with needles or drugs, but here we were. I took a deep, quivering breath to calm the pounding in my chest. If not for the fact that I didn't want to cause my friends any more problems, I might have fainted right then and there.

Soon enough, we entered the hospital and were asked to stay in the waiting area. I had to clench my fists to prevent myself from bolting several times, but Diana's calming hand on my shoulder kept me in place until it was my turn.

My friends tried to cheer me up, telling me that what I was feeling was normal. But I knew it was all just sweet nothings to keep me from panicking. I blanched when I glanced around the waiting room. There was no one else my age in there. The room was filled with pregnant women and their partners or friends. My friends and I were the youngest, drawing unnecessary attention to ourselves.

I slid further down in my chair, burying my face in Diana's shoulder, thankful that they had come with me. When we were finally called in, we met with a kind, elderly woman in her fifties. She was gentle and nice, almost motherly. She asked why we were there.

Nancy spoke up. "Sheila is pregnant," she said, her voice steady. I felt myself blush a deep crimson in embarrassment. "She can't keep the baby," Nancy continued. "She's a student, and she's too young to be a mom. Keeping this baby would be akin to suicide for her. It would ruin her life."

If the doctor noticed Nancy's slip-up with my name, she gave no indication. There was no look of hate or disgust on her face, only sympathy. I wondered if it was an emotion she had mastered over the years or if it was what she genuinely felt about my situation. Her voice remained calm and motherly despite the gravity of our predicament.

My friends wanted to come into the examination room with me, but it wasn't allowed. They caused quite a ruckus until they were threatened with being thrown out by security for disturbing the peace. Meanwhile, I had slowly slipped into shock, the events of the day overwhelming me. When Diana and Nancy realized there was nothing they could do, they decided to cooperate with the hospital staff. I looked at them, pleading with my eyes, but I was on my own.

As I walked into the hospital ward, I felt a sense of dread wash over me. The doctor conducted a series of painful and intrusive tests. After the examination, she explained that it was not too late to have the surgery, but it was a bit risky at four months. Since we were still teenagers, we needed a guardian to countersign the consent forms.

Nancy immediately began spinning a sob story, trying to get the doctor to make an exception so that we wouldn't have to involve our parents. But the doctor was firm. An adult needed to make the decision, and we were asked to go home and bring our parents.

Nancy suggested we hire a stand-in parent. It was a desperate idea, but we were running out of options. So, we went shopping for a fake mom.

When we finally returned to the hospital, I was accompanied by my fake mom, Mrs. Monty. The secretary was kind and didn't ask any unnecessary questions. The doctor came to see me and reassured me that everything would be okay. She explained everything in detail to Mrs. Monty, who squeezed my hand reassuringly. It was her way of offering support. She told the doctor that we would go through with the surgery and that we should use anesthesia because she didn't want her "daughter" to experience any pain.

I had never been so scared in my life. Of course, Nancy had already written out a script for Mrs. Monty to follow, but that did little to calm my nerves. When the time came, my fake mom stood by me as I was taken to the operating room. I felt no pain and slept through the entire procedure. When I woke up, I was in the recovery room, exhausted and unable to walk properly. They lied—it really did hurt.

Afterward, I was given a lot of antibiotics and painkillers before being discharged. The person who walked out of that hospital wasn't the same naive girl who had walked in. I knew I would never be the same again.

Despite all the fear and anxiety I had experienced, I thought I would be relieved to be rid of the pregnancy. But all I felt was overwhelming sadness. I was so empty afterward. I had just ended a life, all because of a little bit of fun. I sobbed and sobbed, and in that moment, I decided I wanted a change of environment. I needed a new life, a fresh start away from everything.

When I was finally discharged, my friends surrounded me, offering words of comfort. Nancy slipped an envelope of cash into Mrs. Monty's hands as a thank you for her help. I managed a watery smile, telling them that everything was fine, even though it wasn't.

Mrs. Monty quietly slipped out of the hospital and out of our lives forever. I wanted to thank her, but it was no use. It might have been the money that motivated her, but even if that was the case, she had given me the assurance I needed when I needed it most.

As we left the hospital, I realized that I would never be the same person again. The carefree girl I used to be was gone, replaced by someone who had faced a difficult decision and come out the other side forever changed. The weight of my choice hung over me, but I knew that moving forward was the only option I had left.

The walk back to the bus stop was quiet, each of us lost in our thoughts. My friends tried to keep the conversation light, but their attempts felt hollow. I leaned my head back against the bus seat, staring out the window as the city passed by in a blur.

When we finally reached my stop, I hesitated before getting off the bus. My home no longer felt like a safe haven, but rather a place where I would have to confront the reality of my actions. My friends offered to walk me to the door, but I declined. I needed to be alone, to process everything that had happened.

As I walked the familiar path to my front door, I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The events of the day replayed in my mind, and I felt a pang of regret. But I knew that regret wouldn't change anything. What was done was done.

I opened the door and stepped inside, feeling a strange sense of detachment. I wasn't the same person who had left that morning. I was someone new, someone who had faced a difficult choice and made it through to the other side. The road ahead was uncertain, but I knew I had to keep moving forward, no matter how hard it might be.

The house felt emptier than usual, a silence hanging in the air that seemed to amplify the chaos in my mind. I sat on my bed, staring blankly at my phone, the events of the day replaying in my head like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from. I couldn't believe I had just gone through an abortion—something I never imagined I would have to do, and all because of a lie.

Ethan's lie.

I had trusted him, believed him when he said nothing sexual happened between us at that party. The memory of that night was hazy, a blur of lights, music, and bad decisions. But when I woke up the next morning, he assured me that we hadn't done anything, that I had nothing to worry about.

But it was all a lie. And now, because of that lie, I was sitting here, feeling emptier than I had ever felt in my life. The realization that I had been so wrapped up in my own life my own problems and worries that I didn't even know the person who had fathered my child hit me hard. I had been too busy, too distracted, to see Ethan for who he really was.

With shaking hands, I dialed his number. I needed answers. I needed to know why he had done this to me, why he had lied. The phone rang, each tone feeling like it was drawing out the inevitable confrontation, until finally, he answered.

"Leila?" His voice was calm, almost indifferent, as if he hadn't just destroyed my world.

"Ethan, we need to talk," I said, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. "Now."

There was a pause on the other end, and I could hear him take a deep breath. "What's going on?" he asked, but there was something in his tone something off, as if he already knew.

"Don't play dumb with me," I snapped, the anger bubbling to the surface. "You lied to me, Ethan. You told me nothing happened between us at that party. You said I had nothing to worry about. But guess what? I got pregnant. I had to have an abortion today because of you!"

The words tumbled out in a rush, and I could feel the tears burning in my eyes, threatening to spill over. "You lied to me, Ethan. You betrayed me. I trusted you, and you betrayed me in the worst way possible."

There was silence on the other end, and when Ethan finally spoke, his voice was colder than I had ever heard it. "Leila, you have to forget about all of this. Forget about that night. Forget about me."

His words were like a punch to the gut. I felt a wave of nausea roll through me as the reality of what he was saying hit me. "Forget about you?" I echoed, my voice cracking. "You think I can just forget about everything? You were supposed to be my friend, Ethan. I regret ever meeting you, ever trusting you."

Ethan's silence on the other end was deafening, and when he finally spoke, there was no warmth in his voice, no hint of the person I thought I knew. "It's better this way, Leila. You'll be better off if you just forget about me. We can start over, from the night of the party, like none of this ever happened. It's for the best this time around it sounded more like a command."

His words made my stomach turn. How could he be so cold, so detached? How could he act like none of this mattered, like the pain and confusion he had caused meant nothing?

My head began to feel hazy ,I tried to speak, to tell him how much he had hurt me, but the words wouldn't come. My vision began to blur as tears filled my eyes, and I felt a dizzying sensation, like the ground was shifting beneath me. "Ethan," I whispered, barely able to get the word out. "I"

But before I could finish, the world went dark. The last thing I heard was Ethan's voice, distant and cold, as everything slipped away. 

"Forget about me, Leila. It's for the best and the line went dead."

For me, there was nothing.

Ethan had never known what it was like to feel truly vulnerable at least not until he met Leila. His life had always been about duty, responsibility, and the weight of his race's expectations. For nearly a millennium, his people had waited, hoped, and prayed for an heir. The continuation of their bloodline had become a distant dream, a nearly forgotten legend. And then, in the most unexpected way, that hope had been rekindled through Leila.

She had no idea who he truly was, what he was destined for, or how much was at stake. To her, Ethan was just another guy, a friend she could trust and confide in. But for Ethan, Leila was far more than that. She was the key to his race's survival, the vessel for the long-awaited heir. When he realized she was pregnant, the emotions that surged within him were unlike anything he had ever experienced.

At first, there was shock a disbelief that after so many centuries, this miracle could be happening. Then came a fierce, protective instinct, an overwhelming need to shield both Leila and the child growing inside her from any harm. He knew he had to be careful, that Leila couldn't know the truth about him or his people. Not yet. But he was certain that once the child was born, everything would fall into place. They would figure it out together, and Leila would understand her role in something far greater than she could ever imagine.

But all of that was ripped away in an instant, the moment he learned of the abortion. The pain that followed was indescribable. It was as if a part of his soul had been torn out, leaving an empty, gaping wound. Ethan felt rage ,pure, unfiltered anger directed at Nancy for her greed, for her meddling, for causing Leila to make a decision that she might not have made otherwise.

He had to force himself to stay composed when Leila confronted him, even as every word she spoke cut deeper than any physical wound ever could. She didn't know the true extent of what had been lost, and he couldn't tell her. His emotions were a chaotic mix of sorrow, regret, and a deep, bone-chilling fear that his race might never have another chance.

Ethan had spent centuries learning to suppress his emotions, to remain detached for the sake of his people. But this loss was different. It wasn't just about him; it was about the future of his entire race. The heir they had longed for was gone, and with it, their hope for survival.

Beneath his cold exterior, Ethan was drowning in despair. He wanted to lash out, to make someone anyone pay for what had happened. But he knew that no amount of vengeance could bring back what was lost. The only thing he could do was push Leila away, erase himself from her life, and bury the pain deep inside, where no one could see it.

As he told Leila to forget about him, the words tasted like ash in his mouth. He didn't want to let her go; he didn't want to lose her. But what choice did he have? The pain of staying, of facing her every day knowing what could have been, was too much to bear. It was easier to sever the connection entirely, to let her think he didn't care, that he was as heartless as she believed him to be.

Inside, Ethan was breaking, and he knew that this loss would haunt him for the rest of his life. The future of his race had slipped through his fingers, and there was nothing he could do to change that. He had failed his people, failed Leila, and most devastatingly, failed the child who would never be born.

The weight of that failure was a burden Ethan knew he would carry forever, he could only hope his wife and the witch made the sacrifice worth it or he wouldn't be afraid to rip them apart, he hoped this would finally make his kind capable of having offspring. He would not confront Nancy yet, but he would keep an eye on Leila so she wouldn't harm herself, she might not remember him but the fate of his race lay with her.

On the night of the party, Leila went with Nancy and Diana, expecting nothing more than a night of fun and laughter. But what she remembered from that night as she went with Ethan to the VIP area, was a black void, an impenetrable darkness where memories should have been. She couldn't recall a single detail of the evening, only a deep, unsettling sense that something had gone terribly wrong. What she didn't know, what she couldn't possibly remember, was that the party had been far from ordinary. It was a vampire's lair, a place steeped in ancient, dark magic.

Unbeknownst to Leila, she had been the center of a horrifying ritual. The lair was filled with the purest royal vampires, their eyes cold and calculating and excited as they prepared for what was to come. Nancy and Diana, the friends she trusted, had betrayed her in ways she couldn't yet fathom. Every drink they handed her, every sip of liquor she took, had been laced with potions designed to make her fertile, to weaken her resistance, and to make her more susceptible to the dark magic that would soon bind her to their will.

In the heart of the lair, Leila was subjected to an unspeakable orgy. Five of the most powerful royal vampires took her, their hunger and lust driving them as they fed off her, draining her blood while others watched, their eyes gleaming with a sinister light,Ethan was the first to break her hymen while the others watched. The air was thick with the witch's chants, her voice echoing through the chamber as she cast her spell. Leila's body was used in every possible way, her blood a vital part of the ritual as the vampires fed, each one taking a piece of her with them.

But they didn't just drain her; they infused her with their own blood, a twisted act meant to transform her, to bind her life force to theirs to give her a fighting chance, so she would survive the ordeal. Yet, the witch's spell also ensured that she wouldn't fully cross over into their world. She was meant to remain on the edge, suspended between life and death, her body a vessel for their dark purpose.

As the ritual reached its peak, the witch's voice rose, her words filled with dark triumph. "Conception has taken place," she declared, her voice reverberating through the chamber. "Here I offer a virgin and her first seed to cleanse us of this curse that plagues our land a sacrifice to the goddess in exchange for purebred children."

Leila wasn't just any victim. She was the perfect vessel, her bloodline tracing back to a long line of witches so powerful they had once kept demons as pets. Among her ancestors was the very witch who had cursed the vampire race, creating their kind and binding them to their dark fate. Her magic had been dormant for generations, hidden away as her family sought to escape the wrath of the vengeful vampires. Over time, the memory of magic had faded, and her lineage had been long forgotten.

But Leila's magic had not disappeared. It had waited, biding its time until the moment it would be called upon once more. And that moment had come on the night of the party when the vampires and the witch found her an unknowing, perfect vessel for their ritual. She was the first human to reach this part of the ritual and survive, her body strong enough to endure the agony and horror of the ceremony.

The pool beneath her was bathed in blood, her blood mixing with the dark waters as she lay there, barely conscious. The vampires continued their assault, taking her again and again until she could endure no more. Finally, her body gave out, and she passed out, signaling the end of the ritual.

The chamber fell into a tense silence, the air thick with anticipation as everyone waited for her to awaken. Leila was their hope the vessel who would carry the first purebred child in nearly a millennium. The pool was stained red with her blood, the remnants of the ritual lingering in the air as they watched with bated breath, waiting for her to open her eyes, to see if the ritual had truly succeeded.

But as she lay there, still and silent, the truth of what had happened remained locked away in her mind, buried deep within her soul. The night of the party the night that had changed everything would remain a mystery to her, a terrible secret hidden in the darkest corners of her consciousness.