The crescent moon hung high in the ink-black sky, its pale light spilling through the grand, towering windows of the Nocturne Manor. The air inside was deathly still, save for the faint rustle of a black silk gown as the maid glided into a dimly lit chamber. Her presence seemed to darken the room further. Shadows clung to her form like loyal specters.
She stopped by an enormous canopy bed draped in crimson curtains. "Wake up, little master," she whispered, her voice as smooth as poisoned honey. "It's midnight. Time to rise."
On the bed lay Lucius Nocturne, a boy of ten with porcelain skin so pale it seemed translucent. His chest barely moved with his shallow breaths, and his silvery hair splayed around his head like a frozen halo. At her words, his eyelids fluttered open to reveal eyes as red as freshly spilled blood.
Lucius yawned, a sound that was eerily innocent for one who reigned over the village with such terror. "Hm..." His voice was soft but tinged with an unnatural echo, as though shadows spoke alongside him. He sat up slowly, his slender frame clad in dark silk robes. "I'm hungry."
The maid curtsied, her skeletal hands clutching the fabric of her dress. "Little Master, your sisters await you. Tonight, the villagers have sent offerings—children of your age, fresh and trembling—for your feast." Her lips curled into a sharp, cruel smile. "They fear and worship you, Master. They tremble at your name."
Lucius tilted his head, a faint smirk forming on his pale face. "Fear is good. But I don't want their respect. I want their terror to be absolute."
"Very well said, Little Master," the maid replied, her tone dripping with approval. "Now, please hurry to your meal. It is... very fresh."
Lucius swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his bare feet touching the cold marble floor. The room seemed to grow darker as he rose, his presence drawing shadows toward him like moths to a flame. He strode to the door, his movements unnaturally graceful for a child.
The corridors of the Nocturne Manor were vast and labyrinthine, lined with grotesque paintings of ancestral vampires and macabre statues that seemed to watch every step. As Lucius made his way to the dining hall, the distant echoes of whispers and faint cries reached his ears. The fear emanating from the village offerings was palpable even from here.
The grand doors to the dining hall creaked open, revealing a room bathed in the flickering light of crimson candles. At the center of the long table stood three figures: his elder sisters. Each radiated an aura of deadly beauty and cruelty. They turned to greet their youngest sibling, their crimson gowns shimmering like liquid fire.
"Ah, Lucius," purred Cassandra, the eldest sister, her voice silken and laced with malice. Her raven-black hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face as coldly beautiful as a carved statue. "We were beginning to wonder if you'd keep your prey waiting much longer."
Beside her, Evelina, the second eldest, leaned casually against the table, her icy blue eyes gleaming with mischief. "Dear little brother, tonight's meal is special. The villagers have outdone themselves." She gestured with a delicate hand toward the table's center, where three children sat bound with thick ropes.
The third sister, Marietta, clapped her hands in mock delight, her laughter tinkling like shattered glass. "Fresh, terrified, and young—just the way you like them!"
Lucius stepped forward, his crimson eyes fixed on the offerings. The children—two boys and a girl, no older than he was—shrank back, their faces streaked with tears. Their muffled cries, stifled by the gags in their mouths, only added to the suffocating tension in the room.
The youngest boy, his face pale and his eyes wide with terror, whimpered through his gag. His trembling was so violent it shook the chair he was tied to. The girl beside him, her dark hair plastered to her tear-streaked face, struggled against her bonds in futile desperation. The eldest boy tried to glare defiantly at Lucius, but his quivering lip betrayed him.
Lucius approached slowly, each step deliberate and silent. His fangs, razor-sharp and glinting in the candlelight, began to elongate as his hunger surged. He could feel the fear radiating from the children like a physical force,
feeding his dark, insatiable appetite. The scent of their blood, hot and alive, filled the air, mingling with the flickering candlelight that cast monstrous shadows on the walls.
Cassandra leaned forward, her lips curling into a wicked smile. "Do you see their fear, Lucius? How it clings to them, how it seeps into every breath they take? This is what we are born to harvest."
Evelina chuckled, her voice like the crackle of frost. "They think their defiance will save them. It only makes their blood sweeter."
Lucius stopped in front of the trembling trio, his crimson eyes locking onto the defiant boy. The boy's glare faltered, his breathing shallow as he struggled against his bindings. Lucius tilted his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
"Your bravery is amusing," Lucius said, his voice a whisper that seemed to echo unnaturally in the vast hall. "But it won't save you."
Marietta, ever the cruel instigator, stepped forward and ran a sharp, manicured nail down the boy's cheek, drawing a thin line of blood. The scent hit Lucius like a tidal wave. His fangs extended fully now, gleaming in the dim light. The boy winced, his defiance crumbling as tears spilled from his eyes.
"Little brother," Marietta teased, stepping back with a graceful twirl, "don't keep us waiting. Show us why the villagers whisper your name in fear."
Lucius leaned closer to the boy, his breath cold against the child's neck. The boy thrashed wildly, his muffled screams rising in pitch. Lucius's lips parted, and with a sudden, predatory movement, he sank his fangs deep into the boy's neck.
The room erupted with horror.
The sound of the bite—a sickening, wet crunch—was drowned out by the boy's muffled, gurgling screams. Blood spurted from the wound, warm and metallic, staining Lucius's pale lips and cascading down his chin. The boy's body convulsed, his struggles weakening as Lucius drained him.
The other two children screamed behind their gags, their muffled cries frantic and desperate. Their eyes widened in sheer terror as they watched the life drain from their companion, his skin turning ashen and lifeless under Lucius's unrelenting grip.
Cassandra clapped slowly, her eyes glimmering with dark pride. "Magnificent. You're a true Nocturne, Lucius."
Evelina leaned closer, her gaze fixed on the boy's paling face. "The blood of the young is the finest. Pure, untainted, and full of life. You've chosen well, little brother."
Lucius pulled back, his fangs glistening with blood, his face alight with a predatory satisfaction. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing crimson across his pale skin. The boy's limp body slumped forward, lifeless, as Lucius turned his attention to the remaining two.
The girl sobbed uncontrollably, shaking so violently that her chair rattled. The youngest boy, his face frozen in silent terror, could barely breathe.
Lucius smiled coldly, his fangs still bared. "Fear makes the blood richer. But I think I'll savor this meal."
Cassandra and Evelina laughed, their voices ringing like a macabre melody. Marietta moved to close the heavy dining hall doors with a resounding thud, sealing the room in darkness and despair.
The feast had only just begun.