Chapter 2: BIRTHDAY OR DEATHDAY (2)

Song recommendation: Teya Dora - Džanum

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It had only taken a moment for the lovely winter's evening to become a horror. From every part of Enebelle, there were bursts of countering abilities and weapon clangs, accompanied by screams of horror and war cries. But even with their might, the phoenixes were losing severely. They were falling out in large numbers.

"W...what... What..?!" The guard's lifeless body caused Eleanor to scream in sheer terror, her body quivering violently.

Everyone stood up, and Arlette seized her quivering daughter's hand. Eleanor had never seen a dead body before now. She was trying to grasp the horrible scene, but it was difficult.

"Leave her in her chamber! If we are indeed under attack the vampires must be the attackers." With a growl, Edward's blue eyes took on a vivid golden hue.

Eleanor's gaze grew wide. Vampires? They were attacking her home? But why? "No. I...I.."

Eleanor was too shocked by the body to talk clearly. Her body continued to shake violently, but before she could finish her sentence, Arlette dragged her out of the dining room, her aunts and grandmother following right behind.

They dragged her back to her room in a panic and, despite her meager protests, locked her in a closet. Eleanor attempted to cry out, but her efforts were met with force as she slammed the door.

Concerned looks adorned the faces of her mother, grandmother, and aunts. "You have to stay there Eleanor, I'll come back for you once everything is over." Arlette put her palm up to the door, pretending to be calm, her eyes welling up with tears.

"N... No!" At last, Eleanor gave a loud cry. "I'm terrified! Mother, I'm so scared!"

For Eleanor, being afraid was an unusual emotion since, up until this point, she had never encountered anything or anyone who could frighten her.

When her mother didn't answer, she knew they were gone, so she kept pounding on the door, trying to smash it. But it was all a waste, so she slid her back against the door and slumped on the ground as her hand started to hurt.

"Vampires?" Grasping her body, she questioned and started to wonder why they were attacking. All she knew about the vampires was that they were the phoenixes' foes because they considered them nothing more than food. Her great-grandmother, however, would always chant that a strong vampire would one day take her away and make her his bride in an attempt to compel her obedience.

Minutes became hours, and seconds became minutes again.

Eleanor's nerves were beginning to fray even further. Nobody had returned to retrieve her yet.

She got to her feet and started pounding on the door with her side this time. When she felt her bones fracture, she made no sound and continued to beat the door.

Blood started to run down her arm and drench her clothes from shoulder to arm. Suddenly, the door moved as if it were being dragged open, and Eleanor promptly collapsed to the ground, where she discovered her mistress Greta's corpse and another handmaiden lying nearby. They had horrifically pale skin, and their bodies were covered in bite marks.

Eleanor shouted in anguish, her pulse hammering madly with intense terror, and her eyes welled up with tears she didn't want to spill.

She lay on the ground for some time, trying to take in what was happening. However, when she heard a terrified scream emanating from the castle's main sitting room, she woke up and started stumbling down the long corridor that was lined with the bodies of all the royal and warrior guards.

Even though her nostrils were assaulted by the stench of death and blood, she refrained from crying. Not yet. Not yet! Finding her family was her goal!

The shriek came again, weaker than before, as she approached the railing with the stairs at opposing sides leading to the sitting area. At the balcony, Eleanor stopped, gazing down in horrification.

"MOTHER!" She let out a scream that was filled with all of her might, anguish, and incredulity. Her eyes eventually welled with tears, but they were unable to cover the horrific image of her entire family lying dead on the ground.

Upon realizing that the person wailing was her mother's personal handmaiden, who was held captive by a vampire that was drawing blood from her, Eleanor choked and covered her mouth with her hands. She felt her body tense as she saw the handmaiden's face lose its life.

Within the chamber, there were over thirty vampires. Their faces and hands were smeared with phoenix blood, and they were all dressed the same in black uniforms. Eleanor was infuriated by the contented smiles on their faces, and she experienced a momentary release of her spirit from her body as they all looked up at her.

"That blood smells... Divine."

"Is she not fortunate? Right now, she is the last surviving phoenix."

"Why don't we put her out of her misery?"

Without moving, Eleanor's eyes drifted from her deceased parents to her grandparents, overwhelmed with astonishment and tears. Her world fell to nothing, and her heart constricted, hardening in a horrible way. Tears still flowed from her eyes, but now everything was dismal nothingness.

"Aww she's crying." She heard laughter from behind and felt a firm hold on her arm.

Eleanor gave him a look. Though his attire differed from the uniforms, he was still a vampire. Was this a sign that he was a significant person?

With eagerness glistening in his ruby eyes, he smiled at her. "Well aren't you a beauty."

Eleanor remained silent. Even though she had a neutral smile on her face, tears were still streaming from her eyes, showing how much pain she was in.

The vampire traced his bloodstained fingers up her cheek, reaching down to her chin before firmly grasping it, forcing her to look him in the eye. "Why don't you become my blood slave and meal? I'm afraid of your blood's enchanting, heavenly aroma. I want!"

"Lord Atlan, do not be greedy!"

"Which type of blood is that? It smells so different from the others."

"What an amazing fragrance!"

Atlan inclined his face toward Eleanor's. "This makes me want you even more." Then he turned his face to her neck and gently pushed her hair aside.

But as his fangs were about an inch from her flesh, a menacing, dark presence swept through the room, and a deep, velvety voice, as serene as the sky before a storm, reverberated. "I am sure you do not want to hold your own head in your hands, Atlan, My Betrothed is an exception. She belongs to me."

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