“Huh…”

  I didn’t quite know what to say.

  Blood pooled around me from every direction. Above me, the ceiling lay smashed open, the moon gazing down like some silent angel of the Lord.

  I couldn’t believe what my life had turned into. The horrors…

  My eyes drifted toward the corpses of my comrades, the smell of iron and acid thick in my nostrils. Something inside me was fascinated by it, drawn to it in a way that made my stomach churn. Yet the greater part of me was disgusted that I could even feel that way in the first place.

  “I… really am a vampire…”

  What a joke.

  I stayed there for hours, unmoving, lost inside my own mind, before finally forcing myself up and stepping away from the tunnel of corpses.

  I took off the suit and threw it into the darkness, not wanting to look at it again, not wanting a single reminder of what I had seen or done. I didn’t care if all I had left were my pants. At least I wasn’t stained with blood.

  A black limousine waited for me outside, its door already open as if it had been expecting me. I stepped in without a word, leaving the crime scene behind.

  As we drove away, I caught sight of crowds gathering around the hole in the ceiling where the Duchess had escaped.

  Phones were raised. Faces craned upward.

  It made sense, we, no, humans were always fascinated by the strange, the peculiar and the unexplained.

  It was just past three in the morning by the time I arrived at my new accommodation.

  I stepped into the elevator and watched the numbers climb in silence, the world feeling slower than usual, like it was trying to catch up to everything that had just happened as I waited for the doors to open on the top floor.

  It hissed open.

  I stepped into the penthouse slowly, the scanner lighting up as it analysed my face. For a fleeting second, I hoped the place would be empty.

  I was wrong.

  “Hey…” a soft voice called out, Bea.

  “Mhm.”

  “The girls went to sleep already… so I was left in charge of you for now.”

  “Okay.”

  I wasn’t in the mood to talk.

  “The mission was successful.”

  Successful, huh…

  Did that include the ones who died in that tunnel tonight? The nameless Executioners who were torn apart while I stood frozen? The ones whose blood still clung to the inside of my mind?

  My perception of this world felt permanently stained.

  It made me angry. Truly furious.

  “Good for you…”

  “…..”

  Silence settled between us.

  “Well, I did promise to show you to your room!” she said, forcing a brightness into her tone that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  I simply nodded.

  I was tired.

  Not physically. Spiritually.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Like a bottle left empty on a windowsill.

  Hollow.

  Drained.

  An emotional husk wearing a body that still moved out of habit.

  “It seems you’ve experienced the truth of this world, haven’t you…?”

  We were walking toward my room when she said that. Her tone lacked the usual sparkle, stripped of its rehearsed brightness.

  I nodded.

  “You probably feel a bit empty right now, like a glass waiting to be refilled…”

  That was shockingly accurate.

  “If I’m honest, I’m kind of happy. I would have preferred that you jump into the deep end first. This career is far better approached with caution than confidence.”

  She seemed different now. Her eyes no longer masked by performance, but reflective, weighted with experience.

  “This world is nothing but a cesspool of sin. We cope ourselves into not seeing it to preserve our belief in our own morality. None of us are good, or better than another. We’re simply restrained from our natural impulses. That restraint is what creates the peace you see in society. People believe that when times get tough, humans will stay moral. I say unlikely. You cannot stand on integrity if it hasn’t been tested.”

  She stopped in front of my door.

  “Today, Jō, you were tested. Take honour in the fact that you passed. Not only with flying colours, but with your life intact.”

  She opened the door slowly, her eyes locking with mine. Up close, I could smell her faintly, something warm and subtle beneath the sterile scent of the penthouse air. It steadied me in a way I didn’t expect. It was… intoxicating.

  Her voice softened.

  “I like you… hopefully you might be the first to truly understand me.”

  It wasn’t romantic.

  But it wasn’t platonic either.

  It felt instinctual…?

  As if she were searching for something familiar inside me.

  She blinked, and the cheerful mask returned.

  “Oh! And by the way, you can always talk to me if you feel down. I’ll console you to your heart’s content. I’m your idol after all!” She winked and extended her pinky.

  “Promise to chat to me when you’re down, okay?”

  There was no harm, I suppose.

  I hooked my pinky around hers.

  “What are we, in grade school or something…?” I let out a quiet laugh, scratching the back of my head.

  “Don’t be a meanie! We’re total besties now!” she declared brightly.

  “Yeah… sure.”

  I offered the last fragile smile I had left and stepped inside.

  “Goodnight Jō!”

  “Goodnight.”

  The door closed behind me.

  I could have explored the room, taken in the luxury, the space, the quiet—but I didn’t. I needed sleep. And the second I collapsed onto the impossibly comfortable bed, my restless brain finally surrendered to slumber.

  Yet the pollution of the hell I had witnessed that night seeped into my dreams. The screams returned. The blood. The melting flesh. My mind twisted it all into a cavern of

  endless nightmares, shadows stretching without end.

  Yet…

  What was that?

  I was hollow. An empty shell drifting through darkness.

  And then—

  She held me.

  She loved me.

  She offered me compassion and pressed her heart against mine as if to remind me I still had one.

  An innocent maiden, her presence soft and warm. Her blood washed away the nightmare around us, dissolving it like ink in water. Her love dulled the fury that had carved itself into my chest.

  Who was she?

  She was not holy. Not God. Not a fiend.

  She was something else.

  Something beyond my understanding.

  Something my waking mind would forget by morning.

  But here, in the quiet theatre of my dreams, she was free. Free to love me without fear. Free to cradle the hollow vessel I had become and gently wipe away the tears I would not remember shedding.

  To fill my empty cup whole with her endless love.

  Forever and ever.