Prologue

I remember her eyes—blue, just like mine—and her blonde hair, shining like the sun. She always said I had hair like hers. Her smile was warm and sweet. I recall how she held me close, singing a lovely melody and rocking back and forth until my eyes grew heavy, drifting into a deep slumber.

When was the last time I slept so well? Resting my weary body on a soft bed, closing my tired eyes, feeling safe in my surroundings, and succumbing to unconsciousness. It's been a long time since I embraced any of those comforts.

This is the life of the poor and abandoned—calling the streets our home and thievery our craft. Surviving. I've known so many people over the years, all killed by hunters and vampires alike. A missing slave attracts more attention than the typical street beggar. No one in the upper class would bat an eye.

Gods, I am an idiot. I should have stayed away from the tavern, keeping my hands to myself. My self-assurance and cockiness landed me in this mess. I could have lasted another night, but now my time is almost up. Soon, I will join the ranks of the dead.

Heavy footsteps bounce off the stone walls, echoing through the hollow cells. I am the only soul locked inside, listening to rusted chains banging against each other and the door hinges creak loudly. I jolt awake at the slightest sound, my feet already on the ground, ready to run from the unsuspecting danger. My heart races, pumping adrenaline through my body.

The hunter brings a wooden bowl with a fat lining on top, filled with brown broth, bones, some meat, and swirling organs. The smell makes my stomach churn, bile rising in my mouth. I have to swallow it back down, remaining calm in front of the hunter. He grabs the bowl from my hands, huffs in approval, and leaves me to my thoughts once more. I stare at the contents, hoping to find the answers to the universe inside, half expecting an eyeball to rise to the surface and stare back at me.

So, this is it—my last hours. I sigh, putting the bowl down and ignoring the growl in my stomach. I may be hungry, but I am not desperate. I sit down on the cold stone floor in the corner as the blazing colors of the setting sun tint the empty spaces red. Dusk will soon approach.

My stomach gurgles. If it were any louder, it would echo through the empty halls, allowing all the hunters in the chambers to hear. I am not touching that gruel.

I’m ready. No longer will I have to steal and sleep on the dirt grounds, running from hunters and vampires alike. Death may be slow and painful, but I would finally be free from this existence.

Death, I’ve danced this life for long enough, evading all your pursuits for my soul. Looks like we've finally reached our last dance. You finally have won—well done, Death.

The sun finally sets upon the horizon, and darkness shrouds the dungeons once more. The hunters clamber together—some holding ropes, another unlocking the door, and two more ready to grab me. They act like I am a monster, requiring so much security. Let’s hope it is quick.