Guys the vampire name is Raphael. Pls don't mix it up.
The night was thick with silence, broken only by the distant howls of restless creatures. Lord Typhon's boots echoed softly against the cobblestones as he moved through the empty streets, his gray eyes piercing the shadows.
Few dared to walk at this hour. The village belonged to the night, to those who fed on its silence and hunted its fears.
He came to the dilapidated house where the vampire's scent hung heavy in the air and then he knocked
The knock was slow. Purposeful.
Raphael's brows creased. He hadn't been expecting anyone. He rose with unease and approached the door. As he opened it—
He froze.
The moonlight framed the figure before him like a ghost summoned from old legends. Cloaked in dark velvet, Lord Typhon stood at the threshold, the night recoiling from his presence.
Before Raphael could retreat, Typhon's hand snapped forward, clamping around his neck. The vampire choked, feet leaving the floor as he was dragged back into the dim house, then hurled against the wall, the impact cracking wood and bone alike.
Raphael groaned, trying to rise, but Typhon had already crouched before him like a predator savoring the last moment before the kill.
"You broke the Accord by harming humans," Typhon said quietly, but it struck like thunder. "You touched my stuff"
Raphael spat blood, sneering, "The human was nosy, ran away before I could finish her"
Typhon narrowed his eyes as he effortlessly grabbed Raphael's throat, claws piercing in
"I should kill you," Typhon growled, his voice low and menacing.
"For a mere human " Raphael hissed, blood staining his lips. "You have grown soft"
Typhon's hand released his throat only to grip his jaw instead, forcing Rapheal to look into his glowing crimson eyes.
"Is that so?"
Rapheal thrashed. "Don't touch me—NO—!"
But it was too late. With terrifying precision, Typhon's fingers gripped Rapheal's chin and upper jaw. With a sudden wrench, his thumb hooked inside the vampire's mouth.
A sickening crack echoed in the silence.
Rapheal howled in agony as Typhon pulled free two bloodied fangs and stepped back, examining them like trophies.
"I shall take this," Typhon said calmly, placing them in a velvet pouch, "as a souvenir."
Rapheal collapsed to the floor, clutching his ruined mouth as blood streaming from the corners.
"What have you done?"
Typhon didn't answer immediately as he rose slowly
"You shall guard the human from beasts like yourself."
A bitter, pained laugh escaped Rafael's cracked lips.
"Chain me to the one I hunted?" He rasped, eyes filled with fury and humiliation. "You mock me"
A slow, unsettling smile curled on Typhon's face.
"Or shall I hand you over to the King himself?"
The laughter died in Raphael's throat as his face paled, the weight of the threat sank in.
"Choose wisely."
***
The golden afternoon sun spilled gently through the trees, casting soft rays over the quiet garden. The scent of lavender and earth lingered in the breeze as Princess Dalia , with her molten gold curls bouncing behind her, ran barefoot down the garden path.
She spotted her brother, Prince Isis seated on the grass with a book open on his lap. Without warning, she leapt forward and landed beside him, giggling as she startled him.
"Oof—Dalia!" he laughed, steadying his book.
"A princess should never startle anyone," he said in mock seriousness, flicking her forehead.
"Oh, please," she grinned. "Don't tell me you're my governess now."
He ruffled her curls, and she squealed. "Not my hair!" she pouted, swatting at his hands.
"I've got something for you," he said suddenly, reaching into his coat.
"Really really?" her eyes sparkled.
"Yes. Close your eyes."
She did so with a wide grin, bouncing slightly where she sat. Isis pulled out a white rose , freshly picked, its petals soft and full.
"Open."
Her eyes flew open. "Wow... it's beautiful."
"Just like you, little sister," he said warmly, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
"Put it in my hair!" she beamed.
He carefully tucked the rose behind her ear. "Perfect," he said, admiring her.
She rested her head on his shoulder. "You always bring the best things."
He smiled, watching the petals drift lazily on the breeze.
"And you always make it worth it."
King Isis sat alone in his private room, the memory dissolved like smoke in the wind, leaving behind a hollowness in his chest.
With a heavy sigh, Isis leaned back and reached for his tobacco pipe, fingers slow, as though weighed by time itself. He lit it wordlessly, the glow briefly illuminating the tired lines on his face.
"Just like you, Sis," he muttered under his breath, watching the smoke curl into the air, lost in a past that refused to let him go.