The Bloodline Wakes

^

"No, Jen. Mateo can handle himself," their mother said softly, watching the guards lead her son away.

Jennifer pressed her lips together, worry flickering in her young eyes. She didn't want her brother to get hurt. Without another word, she darted back inside, grabbed her coat, and hurried out of the house.

"Wait!" her mother called, exasperated. "These children..."

But it was too late. She sighed, shaking her head.

Then, as if expecting it all along, the woman glanced sideways.

"You can come out now."

Aurora froze. How could she see her?

"You're from the future, dear."

Slowly, Aurora stepped forward. "I—how can you see me?"

"I'm Colleen," the woman said kindly, offering her hand. "You must be Aurora."

Still stunned, Aurora nodded, bowing her head politely. She stared at the woman—calm, graceful, and dressed in a simple blue gown. A sense of peace radiated from her.

"You're very important to Mateo," Colleen smiled warmly. "I can see how much he cherishes you, even if he hides it."

Aurora's heart thudded.

"What... what are you?" she asked quietly.

"I'm from the first generation of witches. The original witches," she replied. "Just like your grandfather—Orson—the original vampire."

Aurora's breath hitched.

"Are you... going to die soon?"

"Yes." Colleen's smile didn't falter. "I have to, in order to protect my family."

She stepped closer, gently taking Aurora's hand. Her skin was ice-cold, and Aurora shivered at the touch.

"I need you to awaken Orson."

"Awaken?" Aurora repeated, confused.

Colleen nodded. "Yes. It's time."

Then, she pushed Aurora away—and everything changed.

People started screaming. Blood spilled everywhere. Chaos erupted.

Vampires—eyes glowing red, faces contorted...ran wild through the streets, attacking anyone in sight. The massacre had begun.

Aurora watched in horror. Her heart pounded as she tried to stop one, but her hands passed through it. She was only a spectator. A ghost to the past.

Then, one of the vampires grabbed Colleen.

"No!" Aurora ran toward them, tears in her eyes.

But the vampire pressed its fangs deep into Colleen's neck. She didn't resist. Her body fell limp as he drained her dry, leaving her cold on the ground.

Aurora collapsed to her knees, trembling. She had never felt so helpless. Tears streamed down her face as she stumbled away from the scene.

This was a slaughter.

Up on a mountain overlooking the destruction, two men stood watching in eerie silence. North Morsvil burned below.

"You kept the ones we need alive?" one of them asked, his voice sharp.

He was a blonde man with a curled mustache and lazy red eyes. His presence was commanding.

"Yes. They're locked in the cell," the second man replied—ginger-haired, red-eyed, with a colder tone.

"Do you think Orson will come out of hiding for this?" the blonde asked.

"Orson doesn't care about humans. But the priest... he'll draw him out," the ginger one replied.

Their faces held no emotion. They were orchestrators of chaos.

"Sire. Douglas!" a young boy ran up, panting. He was one of their turned vampires.

Douglas turned, annoyed. "What is it, Samuel?"

"One of the prisoners escaped."

Douglas narrowed his eyes. "Who?"

"I think... Mateo Hayward," the boy said, breathless.

The blonde man's lips curled. "Orson's pet."

"What do you plan to do, Lawrence?" Douglas asked, eyeing the other man.

Lawrence looked unfazed. "Tell the priest to begin the chanting," he said coldly. "And turn the rest of the humans."

—

Somewhere else...

Mateo opened his eyes.

His head throbbed. Screams echoed outside. He sat up slowly, confused and disoriented.

"Orson?" he called, his voice groggy.

The vampire stood nearby...but he wasn't alone. Lady Hilda lay in pain, her hands gripping the sheets. Another woman—a midwife...worked quickly beside her.

"Constance, please... save her," Orson pleaded, desperate.

Mateo walked toward them.

"You're awake!" Orson said with relief.

"Take Orson away!" Constance snapped at Mateo. "He's disturbing the birth!"

Mateo pulled him aside.

"What happened?" he demanded.

"Other vampires... they're here. They've overrun North Morsvil," Orson explained gravely. "They're turning humans. It's a bloodbath."

Mateo's face hardened. "There are other vampires?"

Orson nodded. "Yes. And I did something you might hate me for... I turned you."

Mateo's eyes widened.

"My blood will start working in you soon," Orson added. "I needed someone strong to protect Hilda. I had no choice."

Mateo's fists clenched. Anger surged through him. He punched Orson, hard.

But then—sharp pain exploded in his head. He fell, groaning, clutching his skull.

"Drink this," Orson said, handing him a small bottle.

Inside, blood shimmered darkly.

Mateo's eyes turned crimson as instinct kicked in. He drank deeply.

"I didn't want to do it this way, but I had to," Orson said quietly. "You were always meant for more."

Mateo didn't respond. The truth hit him harder than any blow.

—

Back on the hill...

"The new ones are turning," a guard informed Douglas. "Some will survive. Others... won't."

Douglas nodded just as he heard footsteps.

A woman entered the scene—calm, cold, and radiant. Her green eyes glinted with sharp intelligence beneath her nun-like gown.

"Winter," Douglas called.

"You've been reckless, Douglas," Winter snapped. Her voice was small but deadly.

"The vampires are still turning. Seems Orson hasn't shown up yet," he replied.

"No. But the witch has my blood. She's trying to locate my sister."

Douglas raised an eyebrow. "Still obsessed with your sister?"

Winter didn't smile. "Of course. Because I'm going to destroy her."

Hilda was her sister.

And Winter—the one everyone thought was dead...was back.