Vampires Can't Survive Heartbreaks

Even Horace couldn’t understand Clover’s intentions for brainwashing his siblings. In fact, he didn’t quite like the idea of erasing their memories at all.

But after watching the kids for years, with their heads hung low and with long faces, he admittedly missed the days when they were far happier than now.

Ever since Clover came crying to him about the accident, all he could hear was the world collapsing. Everything suddenly turned gray and cold, and he didn’t know what to do. Now that these curses took her away, it became the last straw.

Vampires were nothing more than walking omens of tragedy, and the only good vampire was a dead one.

That day, when Horace and Clover discussed their futures, he shared his intentions to turn back the tides against such vampires. Clover didn’t like the idea, and rightfully so, considering that would mean his family would also be in danger.

After listing some possible solutions, Horace learned about an estate available for rent on the outskirts of Theatreux while reading the newspapers one day. Living away from society wasn’t the best, permanent solution, but it would at least ensure the kids’ safety until a better option arrived.

Thus, he decided to contact the owner of the estate… who turned out to be a rather strange train conductor.

It was a sheer coincidence that this fellow named Ortrone happened to be an old friend of Solomon. He almost wanted to dismiss the contract entirely, but when Ortrone offered other business plans to sell his inventions—ranging from convenient use to combat—something sinister stirred inside him.

With Lady Maribel’s wealth, perhaps he could finally make use of it, and with a weapon, he could finally commence his vow with Solomon and finish him off once and for all.

In the guise that Horace wanted something to challenge Solomon and see how much his inventions could endure against him, Ortrone happily accepted the transaction as his first client and promised to prepare a set of armor that he already had been working on for years—a robed, raven suit that can control an army of robotic birds and transform into a flaming knight whenever in serious combat. The only thing missing was said ravens that he had yet to make a blueprint for and manufacture.

A young, introverted, but passionate inventor crossed his mind. Ever since her mother died, Penelope locked herself up in her room and invented useless gadgets only to keep her troubled mind at bay.

His heart ached when he heard about it.

Penelope wasn’t the sort to waste her time crafting meaningless things. Everything she made—from the toy frogs Theodore would use to pull pranks to a massaging chair for her mother to relax—all were made for someone in mind.

Perhaps with his commission, she could find relief now that someone needed her.

Penelope could relieve her stress, and Ortrone could finish the armor sooner than expected. It was a win-win scenario.

And so, after a month, the “script” was complete, and what was left was deciding the “stage.” The more popular the place, the more impactful it would be for the kingdom.

There was only one perfect place for it—the place that wholeheartedly deserved to burn into ashes. Ever since Maribel’s death, everyone—especially Solomon, Theodore, and Penelope—suspected the culprit who spiked Clover’s medicine to be Monty Starman, the stalker Maribel had been investigating. He was also the same man Theodore and Maribel declared to be more incredibly cunning than he appeared.

Even if that estranged brother of his had nothing to do with her death, the fact that Maribel and Theodore discovered the abundance of Crimoire abuse in his amusement park during their investigations was more than enough reason to tear it all down.

And yet, seeing how so many people—especially Cherry—loved The Spectacular Theory, he hesitated.

…To think Monty himself would be more than willing to give him that last push. How much did he predict his moves? How much was he involved with the Vamiers’ affairs? Just how much did he set this all up?

Were it not for Cherry’s death, he probably would’ve continued pondering such questions.

What mattered anymore? Maribel died. Cherry died. Clover and his siblings were fine on their own.

He had nothing left to live for. Absolutely nothing.

On that evening, he fought Solomon, expecting to never see another light of day. It was perhaps a twist of fate that Cherry’s father was the one to save both his and Solomon’s life.

After stopping the massacre, Ren fulfilled his promise and even offered some aid for his and Clover’s affairs. In exchange, the three of them had to establish the Chevolaires.

What a bizarre fellow.

✦☆✦

Ren did say he’d help Clover heal his siblings, but… couldn’t he give something better than these creepy masks?

Horace frowned as he observed each of the four masked siblings standing side by side in the parlor room, all unnervingly quiet and still aside for Penelope.

“Is there something the matter, Penelope?” he asked.

“N-N-No,” she squeaked, frantically shaking her head. “It’s nothing!”

Poor child. She must’ve been stressed from moving all of a sudden. He stepped closer to her before stopping when she began to sweat terribly. Now that he could see her closer, though…

“What’s with all these leaves and twigs?” Horace curiously asked. “What were you up to out there?”

She twitched and dusted her gown. “I-I… erm… I-I was looking for… for inspiration! Yes, I was bored and didn’t know what to make, so I decided to go for a walk!”

Really now? It wouldn’t do for her to be so bored out here. Perhaps he should commission her some gadgets to keep her busy.

“I see,” he said, rubbing his chin. “Would you like for me to commission you some work? I do happen to have a list already made.”

“Uhm… s-sure…”

Horace chuckled. “Then I’ll be sure to write to you when I need your help.”

Dorothy glanced at Penelope and back at him, shyly fidgeting around.

“Is there something you’d like to say as well, Dorothy?”

“Uhm… What about the rest of us?” she asked. “What should we do?”

“Uh…” Horace looked around and turned to the windows. “You’ve always loved to be in the garden, yes?”

She nodded.

“Then, I’ll let you take care of it.”

“Yes, Father.”

Horace twitched his fingers, and his stomach churned.

Father? Him? Really?

He frowned and glimpsed at Clover, who looked away.

…Never in his life would he ever be called a father, especially coming from Solomon’s children.

“What about me then?” Theodore asked.

“Erm…” Horace looked around again and scratched his head. Goodness, it felt strange being the one to order people around. “You… can take care of the house, I suppose.”

“What do you mean? Like house cleaning?”

“Certainly. Since you like to play and wander around the house, you’ll be the most suitable for that task.”

“I guess so. Sure thing.”

Horace turned to Clover next. “You know what to do,” he said.

“Of course,” he replied.

Horace nodded and waved a hand. “You’re all dismissed.”

With a bow, all the siblings beside Clover left the room to explore their new home. He and Horace went through a different door, where they eventually exited the building and walked inside the forest.

“Alright, Theodore shouldn’t hear us here,” said Clover, taking off his mask.

Horace crossed his arms with a frown. “I don’t remember signing up to be your father.”

“Sorry, it’d save some inconsistencies in their memories.”

“I also don’t remember agreeing anything about brainwashing your own siblings.”

Clover threw his hands. “What am I supposed to do then? Magically heal their trauma by saying it’s not their fault? Penelope refused to ever come out of her room and almost starved to death, and Dorothy still blames herself and keeps having mental breakdowns. Not to mention Theodore… he… for the first time, he had a meltdown after he accidentally killed Cherry! If I hadn’t done anything soon, he and everyone else could’ve died next!”

He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. “Us vampires were this close to losing our minds for good! And you know what happens afterward! You’ve seen it—Charlie blew himself up like a bomb!”

Horace squeezed his cane. “You vampires… are nothing but trouble,” he muttered. “But how did you know of the accident that early? Not to mention, I saw Dorothy with these masks even before I met Ren. What exactly happened on your end at that time?”

“I didn’t get to meet Ren until late afternoon while we were all looking for Cherry at the park,” he said. “Dorothy and I were tracking a scented trail of blood until we found him at some back alley, getting beaten up by a group of people. While Dorothy chased after those guys, I looked after him while he was recovering from the worst of the poison. After he got better, he paid me back by giving me these masks and teaching me how to use them to help my siblings.”

Horace narrowed his eyes. “He knew about your situation?” he asked.

“He said his wife used to work as a fortune teller, and they saw a vision of Charlie and my siblings all literally dying from heartbreak after witnessing Cherry’s death, so he tried to lure Monty away from Cherry, only to get poisoned and beaten up by his men.”

“I see… And you believed him?”

“The fact that he knew so much about us makes it hard to doubt him. You also believe in him too, right?”

“I admit, I had my circumstances…” Horace sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Very well. If you know what you’re doing, then I won’t meddle with your business any further.”

Clover relaxed his shoulders and nodded. “Thank you, Horace.”

He stretched a smile. “Just make sure to keep in touch with me, alright?”

“Of course. I’ll send status reports and come to you whenever you need me. Once the others overcome their heartbreaks and free themselves from their masks, we’ll come back.”

“Haaah… don’t make it sound like a job, Clover. Just a simple letter will do. I still care about you brats, you know.”

Clover flushed his cheeks and put back his mask on. “Right,” he shyly mumbled.

Horace chuckled and ruffled his hair. “Just take as much time as you need to heal. I’ll welcome you kids back to the capital whenever you're ready.”

He nodded.

Horace returned the gesture and pulled out a crimson pocket watch. He flipped it open, depressed on its crown, and snapped it back shut. The watch hissed, and a few seconds later, black ribbons flew out of the watch and wrapped his arm, shoulders, torso, and the rest of his body until it formed into a robe, its cape flowing behind him.

Horace tipped his top hat and floated up into the sky. “Take care,” he said.

“You too,” murmured Clover, watching him fly away until he disappeared over the trees. With a sigh, he faced the mansion and walked back inside.