The instant the door closed, Dydra plunged to the ground, her arms wrapping around her body, with uncontrollable tears slipping from her eyes. She felt disgusted, irritated. She could still feel his tongue on her neck—it disgusted her to the core. She released herself from the tight hug, and brought her nails to her neck. Her fingers formed to claws and she scratched her neck viciously, till it started to bleed. She clenched her teeth in pain, and screamed on top of her lungs.
"Ahhhhh!" Her body shook, with the tears seizing to stop. Even with that, she still felt dirty. Her chest heaved as she cursed Oryen. It was her doing! She did this to her! Why, why why why?! What has she done to deserve this?!
She laid down flat on the rugged floor, with pain and betrayal in her eyes. Her fingers trembled as she reached out and yanked off the scarf Oryen gave her. Ever since she's met the woman, there has been nothing but pain in her life. The old woman had acted on her own accord, reminding her of the memories she had long locked away. That witch! That wicked witch, did this to her!
She sat on her heels and recalled something. She brought her index finger to her teary eyes—the old woman said she was a witch. Could she perform a spell that could dangerously harm the woman? But she doesn't know any spells. She stood to her feet and went straight to the door, she has to find that woman and teach her a lesson. Her lips pressed together in a vengeful way, and she reached out to the door knob. She twisted it, but the door refused to budge. She panicked, was it locked from the outside? Did the elite lock her in there?
Then she recalled the words he said to her before taking his leave.
"Only reason you'll reject the offer, is if you want me in the bath with you."
Her lips twitched in anger. Did he only save her, so he could have his way with her? Was that the reason her locked her there?
Panic coursed through her veins and she clenched her fists tightly. She raised her arms and hit the door rapidly with all her might.
This wasn't happening to her again! Not again, not again! She had to get out of there!
"Hello!!" She called out, but she received no response. But she wouldn't give up easily, she increased her vicious pounding, with her voice going as high as it could.
"HELLO!! ANYONE THERE?!!" Again, she received no response. The coat around her shoulders slipped off, and her hands were quick to catch it, before wrapping it around her body. She turned her back to the heavy oak door, and once again, she fell on the floor. She has to get out of there! She had to go! But, how would she go? Where would she go?
Not too far from the royal castle, a shadow walked through the thick woods with heavy steps. He was heading towards a building, that disguised itself amongst the darkness of the forest. Guards paraded it, but on sighting the man, they all bowed their heads.
"Your Highness." They greeted in unity. Leonard didn't respond. His hands were tucked in his pocket, as he walked towards the door. A particular guard was soon to rise, going to opened the door for the prince. Leonard stepped into the completely dark building, with calmness. There were no torches or candlelight that could give the building a little light.
His boots made a click sound as it echoed through the walls, with the air filled with the stench of rusty metal. The crown prince navigated through the place with utter ease. His hand was pulled out of his pocket and it opened a metal door, that led to a room, that had few torches hung on the walls. It was an old dungeon. He stopped at a cell and narrowed his eyes at the person in it, who was drenched with fresh blood and injuries. He looked almost lifeless, lying on the cold uneven floor. A man stood guard and he was quick to bring out the keys from his waist, on seeing the crown prince. He stuck the key into the lock, and with a sharp twist, the door budge open.
Leonard pushed it open and stepped in. His midnight eyes hide a spark of rage, as he squatted down to have a better view of the person. It was none other than his namesake.
"Let me have a wooden stake and a sharp knife." His voice echoed softly in the cell. The guard was quick to get it and carefully placed it in his outstretched palm.
Many who doesn't know the crown prince, would wonder what he wanted to do with it. Having been guarding this particular building for almost a decade, the guard knew exactly what the prince would do with it. His body shuddered at the thought.
The weakness of every vampire is a simple thing that grows naturally from the earth. Wood. When a piece of wood is stuck in the flesh of a vampire, it's like a sizzling lava being poured on their bare flesh. It stings incredibly.
With the help of the knife, the crown prince peeled off a bark, placing the rest beside him, along with the knife. He reached out and held the wrists, mainly the index finger of his prisoner. With swift movements, he jabbed the piece of wood under his fingernail.
"Ahhhh!" Leonard roared in pain, with all his might he tried pulling his finger away, but the prince was much stronger than him. He tired to sit up, but his head and body ached incredibly.
"M-my prince! Forgive me, I didn't know you guys were acquainted," he pleaded with great difficulty. If he had known, he would have steer clear of the woman. Hot tear poured out of his small eyes, as he took in the pain the piece of wood caused.
His pleading were like music to the prince's ears, who started to hum.
"Mmm mm," his voice was low and sounded warm, but those who knew him, could tell that he just got started. With one palm holding Leonard's index finger, he reached out for the wood with the other. He took hold of it, jabbing it effortlessly into Leonard's knee joint.
"AHHH!!" A bloodcurdling scream escaped Leonard's lungs, as he felt the pain coursing through his veins. It was as though a lion's teeth viciously bit into his joint. His breathing became short, and he shut his eyes tightly. If the content of the tool was metal or of any hard substance that wasn't wood, Leonard would still have chances of living . But as it was wood, he had lost hope, because wood to a vampire, is like salt to a leeche.