Chapter 16 CONSEQUENCE
NARRATIVE POINT OF VIEW
With writhing limbs, Viscount Claude weakly passed by the shallow fence. Suddenly, a flock of crows flew by bearing loud croaks of corresponding mockery. The streets are empty despite the luminescent bloom of the moon. He stepped little by little with the help of his hands tipping against the wall, any moment now and he might succumb to the poison caused by that consumption. With a feeble mind, he reached the gate of the mansion, the lights were off but he could feel her presence from outside. He opened it, pushing it eagerly and stepping in with spinning vision.
Agatha sat facing the door, tapping her feet as she waited for him to return. She was tired, exhausted of all the trial she did while he was gone. No matter the force, no matter the plan, she couldn’t reach the handle and scream for help. It was a few feet apart, the end line of the chains and the rusty door handle couldn’t bear connection.
Her eyes widened whilst staring at the porch, she felt his daunting presence. The Viscount has reached home. She braced herself, clutching her tattered dress tightly as he pushed the door open.
Descending to his misfortune, a gush of strong wind trailed inside as he tips over the tiled floor, forging a loud thud. Agatha sat up straight at the sudden coalition, “V-viscount?” she called out, squinting her eyes due to the vibrant glint of the moon peeking over the door.
She discerned a glimmer of hope 'i-is he dead?'
She stood up, walking towards him, he had his body lying face down and the shining moon reflects upon the linen of his lavish garb. Agatha’s eyes wandered outside, the gate was a couple of yards away, she can make it if she run but she looked at the shackles binding her “this is the problem” she whispered. Thankfully, the Viscount was on her reach, she kneeled and hovered above his body. “I will never get a chance like this” she thought that it might be possible that he isn’t deceased, as she knows for a fact that creature like him are immortal unless hit on their vital organ, the heart.
He’s in a deep sedated sleep, and the only thing that can wake him up is the scent of blood. Her hands ran around his back, he’s breathing heavily but that’s not the reason for her touch, she was feeling him to find something. She tripped him over after finding no luck. His pockets, his shoes, even his undergarments were searched but it wasn’t there, the key to her binds isn't with him.
She clenched her jaw, “I’ve no choice” she said and stood up. Dragging the heavy chains back to the hall, she halted after seeing it. In one of the frames was a medieval sword. “One pierce through a heart of a vampire and they’ll die” she recited the line of a guide book she read years ago.
With soaring pensiveness, she took it out and bravely walked back to him. 'Viscount Claude…it’s your end' she said to herself whilst staring at his face plastered with a grappling heave. His face looked soft for the first time. No sign of foiling was present, it was tranquilizing her enough to make her freeze, mildly agitating if she should do it that instant.
She shook her head, “what am I thinking” she thought, dropping the sword as it makes a ringing echo. “If I were to kill him now, I’d remain bounded in this baneful situation” she stared at the shackles, then outside. “My screams wouldn’t be heard, and the tall barricade wouldn’t toil. I’ll be dying next to him if I were to end him”
“what shall I do?” she bit her lips as the tears of hers began to course. “I just want to live”
He screamed on top of his lungs, but not a single sound came out. He has no choice. They are connected, a bloody pact intertwines and ties them by heart. He dreams of that occurrence when he passes, but never has he ever had the chance to get closer. Samuel, the god of his kind, killed her. Emily was killed by the Vatcheruns in order to save him. Lawrence has no choice but to watch still, a barrier surrounds him, pushing him further away as the image of the obliterated royals flashes in his mind.
From that day on, a hundred year feud with the Royals started, and it was under the rule of King Jules when an all-out attack happened. Both sides suffered significant loss as the Vatcheruns infiltrates the Royal Houses of several states within the country of Bridgeton, killing every single royalty that is qualified to rule.
But one kid remained, and even her, was taken.
“Samuel, we need to flee. Everyone is after us!”
“We must abandon Bridgeton! Let’s move to Hizuru instead. That way we’d be free”
“We will die here if we don’t do anything, it’ll mark the end of the bloodline!”
The protest of everyone made Samuel chuckle, he sat on a throne situated at the center of the banquet. “They’re mere humans, have you forgotten what you all are?” his commanding tone made everyone halt, they exchanged meaningful stares as they’re reminded of what they are. “We are the Vatcheruns, the only clan with such a unique curse. We’re strong…” he stood up “immortal…” he stepped down “feared upon by humans…”
He stopped in the middle, gazing at everyone with such precision. He stopped as he spotted one man, he stepped closer to him with a hideous smile “Lawrence…if we we’re to be annihilated, whose fault do you think it is?”
The frenzied man held his head low. He cannot answer as everyone already knows who. “What a disgrace, Lawrence.” He bit his lips whilst cursing himself.
“For thousands of years you existed, only to be swayed by a tacky human, and now, you’ve put us in a dire state.” Samuel held his face, they met each others gaze and exchanged a consequential stare “you will not be fighting, you are tasked to take the young royal away. No matter how I see it, you are not fit to be a Vatcherun”
The smoke of contrition devoured his consciousness as he heard the last line, he was reminded once again of his sinful actions. A vampire must never be inclined with a human, since a mere touch with one renders him immobile. An unproductive member of his kind, he has been touched with the inability to bear a child that runs with a blood similar to his.
it's curse within a curse, the vampire who yet to live forever exists here.
He can touch all the women he adores, but he can never let them stay as he cannot turn them into his own kind. He’d no choice but to go on. Living his life to the fullest whilst watching every single human die of old age and it's a concurring nightmare.
Living forever is a wish most of us dreams of. But to Lawrence, it's a tormenting reality. The weak spot, his heart, is cursed to exist forever, thus making him the last vampire. Because that same night, was the night when he flee carrying the remaining heir as the Vatcheruns fought the thousand man army that came to attack them.
And that night, they suffered a humungous defeat. Marking the end of their bloodline, as they're stabbed through the heart one after another.
A loud gasp blared as he finally woke up, catching his breath whilst squinting his eyes. It was his fear, he’s still alive. His eyes opened fully upon tasting the sweet sap touching his lips, he froze upon seeing the same jade eyes. “Emily…” he uttered.
She brought her lips to a puzzling gape “it’s Agatha, Viscount Claude. I’m glad you’re awake.”
Viscount Claude heaved. His head rests upon her thighs. They eyed each other with a gleaming vile. A small cut by her wrist was visible. She had brought it closer to his mouth. “Let me help you recover strength, Viscount” she stated with a calm smile. She pushed her wrist firmly, enabling him to gain resonance as he felt more and more alive. He closed his eyes, feeling all kinds of warmth with her embrace.
A loud thump occurs beneath his chest, he knew that another mistake were to be born the moment he saw that same eyes. He felt saddened, but that isn’t enough to rid himself of the hesitation. He sat up slowly, clenching her hands to drink fully. Before she passes out, he stopped and eyed her.
With a couple drips of blood, he leaned closer “Agatha…” he called in a husky voice. He squints his eyes. “why?” was all he can say.
She looked away, the sole reason is her lack of choice but the sudden pound of her heart caused a confusing turn. She cannot answer, but he was unwilling to wait.
The wind ushered their way inside the wooden porch, pushing her hair to side he saw her face. Unable to hold back, he indulged himself in romance once again. Pressing his lips gently and moving it passionately atop of hers, they shared a kiss. Agatha froze, she’d no time to react as he began sliding his hands across her back.
The Viscount gave in, despite the agonizing end that’s to come, he chose to live in the present. Diving deeper at the idea of loving someone is something he never thought he’d be doing again. As the late Samuel said, Lawrence is a disgrace for his weak fondness towards Emily, a woman related to Agatha.












