Midnight Visitor

"Wait, what??" Zephyx stuttered, his voice laced with disbelief and terror. Slave? She was asking him to be her slave? His thoughts were in a whirlwind, searching for any explanation to this twist. In the game, Drusilla had been a figure of power and control, yes, but she had never enslaved a soul. She had only ever made the heroine her disciple after being impressed with her abilities. This. this was not supposed to happen. Was it because he was not the chosen one or a child of fate?

He swallowed hard, attempting to squelch the growing panic. "Wh.who are you?" he demanded, playing dumb. It was the safest thing to say, given the circumstances. The last thing he needed was for her to know he already knew who she was. If she knew he did, it would just make matters worse.

She stepped closer, her red eyes gleaming in the dim light. "It's good that you asked," she said, her tone carrying an edge of amusement. "I thought you wouldn't, but now I get to formally introduce myself." Her smile widened, a mix of pride and danger. "I am Drusilla Crimsonvale, Princess of the Crimsonvale Royal Family."

His breath hitched as she confirmed his worst fears. She was exactly who he thought she was.

"I've been watching you," she continued, her voice soft but firm. "Your prowess these past few days has impressed me greatly. You're quite the genius, aren't you?" Her hand reached out, her cold fingers caressing his left cheek. A shiver ran through him—not from pleasure but from pure, unfiltered fear.

Then her gaze locked onto his, and her smile turned predatory. "So, what do you say? Will you become my disciple... and my slave?"

The word slave hit him like a blow. He forced himself to make a shocked expression, hiding the knowledge he already had of her. Her proposal was unexpected, even for her character. Pride swelled within him at the thought of being chosen as her disciple, but that pride was quickly smothered by dread. "W...why do you want to make me your slave?" he asked hesitantly, his voice trembling.

Her lips curled into a wicked smile as she placed both hands on his cheeks, her touch icy and commanding. "At first," she said, "I didn't plan to make you my slave. But then, I saw you returning from hunts, your armor drenched in blood. The smell of it… it called to me. Your blood is unlike anything I've encountered. It's almost ethereal."

He froze, her words sinking in.

"Every time you came back, I wanted to pounce on you, to drain you dry," she admitted, her voice carrying an edge of hunger. "I controlled myself… until now. But when you become my vampire slave, your body will regenerate itself and also your blood, and I won't have to hold back anymore."

Zephyx felt the blood drain from his face, the irony not lost on him in the situation. Still, he clung to a sliver of hope. "Is it possible that I can say no to both parts?" he asked weakly, knowing full well that her answer wouldn't be what he wanted to hear.

Her expression darkened, and she leaned in closer, her breath cold against his skin. "No," she whispered. "You can't say no."

She tilted her head, her raven hair cascading over her shoulder as she brought her mouth near his neck. Her voice dropped to a sultry, threatening whisper. "Let's make you my slave then, but first..." Her lips hovered over his skin. "Let me savor your blood in its pure, human form."

"Wait—" Zephyx barely got the word out before her fangs sank into his neck.

Pain lanced through him as her teeth pierced his skin, sharp and unyielding. He let out a strangled cry, his body stiffening as she began to drink. The pain gave way to an overwhelming sensation, a mix of pleasure and dread that clouded his thoughts. His vitality ebbed away with every second, and he could feel his strength fading.

He struggled against her, his hands pushing weakly at her shoulders. The first few attempts did nothing, but with a surge of desperation, he managed to shove her away on the fifth or sixth try. She stumbled back, her eyes wide and unfocused, as though she were in a trance.

Her chest heaved as she licked her lips, her expression a mix of satisfaction and confusion. When her crimson eyes finally met his, there was something unsteady in her gaze. "W...what are you?" she murmured, her voice laced with disbelief. "This isn't possible. No human blood should taste this… Divine."

Zephyx pressed a hand to his neck, trying to stem the bleeding as he glared at her. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind spinning with questions. What had just happened? Was his blood different? And what would she do now that she'd tasted it?

Her gaze lingered on him, a flicker of something new in her expression. Curiosity. Obsession. And perhaps something even darker.