Run.
It's all I know.
Run. Hide—in the shadows. That's the only way I've ever known how to survive. Survive the cruel world I was born into. That's how I've lived up to this day.
"Here, come here!" A woman with a black long hair wearing a flowing long black dress opened her door wide.
For a moment, I hesitated. Doubt clouded my mind. But when I sensed the presence of those who are after me, I dashed inside without another thought.
Inside, she led me to a dug-out beneath the floor— crude, tight, but deep enough to hide me. Pulling open a wooden hatch, she urged me to jump down. I obeyed.
"Don't make a sound until they're gone." She warned—
—and then the darkness swallowed me whole.
Dusk choked the air. My back pressed hard against the wooden cover above me. Breathing was difficult; sweat trickled down my skin as I hugged my knees more to my chest, my face inches from the damp earth. A strand of hair tickled my cheek, but I didn't dare move— not when I heard a knock.
They're here.
The Hunters.
A group of vampires assigned be their king to hunt down hybrids for the reason that we are a threat to their kind.
Aside from the fact that hybrids were an abomination born of a forbidden union, they believe that our very existence is a defiance of their laws. A being that shouldn't exist. A being that has no place in this world.
The most important of all, hybrid's blood are lethal to vampires.
And that's why they hunt us—they hunt me. Because I hold that lethal blood they loathed. I'm part of the abomination.
"Where is she?" A bolt of thunder cracked through the silence.
It was Adante. The one leading the group. The most desperate of them all—the one who wants me the most.
"What are you talking about?" I heard the woman respond. Her voice tried to stay calm. But I could hear the tremble behind it.
Adante didn't answer.
Instead, I heard a thud—something heavy crashing onto the floor—followed by boots stomping across the wooden boards.
My body tensed as I felt a weight settle directly above me.
A foot. Right over where I was hiding.
I squeezed my eyes shut. And prayed—to whatever god might be out there, listening.
"I know you're in here," Adante said. His voice dropped lower—deeper—deadly calm. "Show yourself now if you don't want me to kill this woman."
I froze.
His threat wasn't empty. He would do it. I could feel it in every word.
I swallowed the lump forming in my throat.
Breathing became harder and harder—my lungs screaming inside the tiny space. Sweat clung to my skin. Dirt pressed into my lips.
And there it was again—that familiar battle in my head. Stay hidden and let someone else pay the price for my survival... Or come out and face the ones who've been hunting me all my life.
"Nyssa." It echoed like a roar inside my head, followed by a sharp ringing in my ears. Hearing my name uttered by him makes my core shake—not from fear, but from something far worse: that familiar feeling of hopelessness.
I've heard it a dozen times. Every time he finds out where I'm hiding, he calls my name—like a curse he's bound to, ever since the first time I slipped into the sole of his palm. And every time, that same dread crawls into my bones.
Because when he calls... I know I'll have to obey. Or someone else will pay the price.
My hand curled into a fist, hard and shaking, deep enough to leave crescent marks on my palm. I was about to move. About to rise. About to give in again—
When I heard it.
A voice. Quiet, faint. But steady.
"Stay."
It was the woman's voice.
"Stay hidden. If you want to survive... don't come out. No matter what happens."
Then the heavy pressure above me was gone.
The next thing I heard was a gagging sound—like someone was being choked to death.
"Speak. Where are you hiding her?"
"I d-don't know what you're t-talking about..." the woman gasped, her voice strained. Struggling.
Then came a sharp, sickening sound—like something being sliced open.
A trickle.
A soft moan of pain.
I held my breath.That familiar tug clawed through my chest, and tears spilled from my eyes. I bit down hard on my tongue, swallowing the sob.
There it is again.
Another life gone for me. Another life wasted... for mine.
"Useless," Adante spat. "Search every nook and cranny of the house. I know she's here."
I heard the rustle of movement—his men scouring the room. Then, slow and heavy, his footsteps circled the space above. Closer. Closer.
"Nyssa..." His voice, low and threatening.
"If you think you can run from me, think harder. If I can't find you now, know that I always will." He paused, crouched and speak again. "And if I have to kill every soul in this godsdamned world just to make you show up—I will. So think again."
"Domnule, we have to leave now. AltețaSaRegală is on his way here." One of his men informed him.
I heard Adante tsk, then the scrape of his boots as he stood.
"Uf. Come on, let's go." Footsteps. "Annoying royalties," he muttered just before their presence disappeared completely.
I waited for a few seconds.
When the silence dragged on, I pushed the wooden hatch open and crawled out, ignoring the burn in my back from staying crouched for too long. It didn't matter.
I had to see her. I had to know if—and then I saw her.
My knees gave out before I even realized I was falling.
She was lying there—sprawled on the floor like something dumped and forgotten. Her chest had been ripped open, a gaping, ragged hole where her heart should've been. Not carved. Not clean. Torn. Her ribs looked split. Snapped apart like brittle wood.
Her eyes were still open. Still staring.
And the blood—it was everywhere.
It soaked the floor. Ran in thin rivers. Painted her neck, her hair, her hands. She looked like she drowned in herself.
I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe.
Something in my chest collapsed inward—like I had cracked in half from the inside.
And the guilt…It didn't creep in. It crashed down on me all at once.
I let this happen.
I hid. I ran.
I did nothing.
Again.
In my desperate attempt to escape, to feel even a sliver of peace—someone died. She died.
Because I was weak. Because I had no fight left. Because I didn't even try.
And now, her blood was the price of my silence.
No excuses. No justifications.
Just blood. And blame.
And I deserved every second of it.