The Prison Beneath Darkheart
The storm refused to end.
Rain struck the ancient windows of Darkheart Castle like countless arrows.
Thunder rolled across the heavens.
The sky itself seemed restless.
Inside the royal chamber, Damian sat upright on his bed.
His body still ached.
Every muscle felt heavy.
Every breath reminded him of the battle against the Blood Eater.
The creature's voice echoed endlessly in his mind.
"It has begun."
The words bothered him.
Not because he feared them.
Because he didn't understand them.
And Damian hated ignorance.
His crimson eyes stared at the ceiling.
Thinking.
Remembering.
Trying to connect pieces that refused to fit together.
The Blood Eater.
The chained eye.
The strange feeling he experienced during the transformation.
Everything felt connected.
Somehow.
Queen Scarlett remained seated beside him.
Silent.
Watching him.
Studying him.
Like a mother trying to memorize her son before sending him to war.
Eventually Damian noticed.
"You've been staring at me for five minutes."
Scarlett smiled softly.
"Only five?"
Damian snorted.
"I must still be unconscious then."
The queen laughed.
A genuine laugh.
Rare.
Very rare.
For a brief moment the darkness surrounding the room disappeared.
They simply sat together.
Mother and son.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
But peace never lasted long inside Darkheart.
A knock echoed through the chamber.
Three precise knocks.
Not a servant.
Not a maid.
Someone important.
"Enter."
The door opened.
Sirius entered first.
Behind him followed another figure.
A man Damian recognized immediately.
Fenrir Rake.
King of Vampires.
Ruler of Darkheart.
His father.
The room instantly became heavier.
Not because Fenrir released his aura.
Because his presence alone demanded attention.
The king stopped near the window.
Watching the storm outside.
Nobody spoke.
For several moments only the rain could be heard.
Then Fenrir finally broke the silence.
"You met something old."
Damian raised an eyebrow.
"That's a strange way to describe a monster."
"It wasn't a monster."
Fenrir answered immediately.
The prince frowned.
"What?"
The king turned.
His crimson eyes locked onto Damian.
"It was once."
He paused.
"A man."
The room froze.
Damian stared.
Even Scarlett looked uncomfortable.
A man?
That thing?
Impossible.
The Blood Eater looked more like a nightmare than a living creature.
Fenrir slowly approached the bed.
"The creature you fought was older than Darkheart."
"Older than the Vampire Kingdom."
"Older than the Werewolf Clans."
Damian remained silent.
Listening.
The king continued.
"His name has been erased."
"He once ruled an entire continent."
"He fought gods."
"He slaughtered nations."
"He survived things that should have killed him a thousand times."
The prince narrowed his eyes.
"And now?"
Fenrir's expression darkened.
"Now he is a warning."
Silence followed.
Damian wasn't stupid.
He understood.
His father wasn't telling him a story.
He was teaching him something.
Trying to prepare him.
For what?
That was the question.
The prince looked directly at the king.
"What am I?"
The room became silent.
Again.
The same silence.
The same hesitation.
The same secret everyone carried.
Damian clenched his fists.
"There it is again."
Nobody answered.
His anger rose.
"I ask a question."
Still silence.
His voice became colder.
"What am I?"
Scarlett lowered her gaze.
Sirius looked away.
Even Fenrir remained quiet.
For several seconds nobody moved.
Then something happened.
A sound.
Very faint.
Almost impossible to hear.
Clink.
Everyone froze.
Another sound followed.
Clink.
Sirius immediately looked downward.
Toward the floor.
His expression changed.
"What was that?"
Nobody answered.
Because they heard it too.
A third sound.
Louder this time.
CLINK.
Like metal striking metal.
Like chains moving.
Far below.
Very far below.
Fenrir's eyes widened.
For the first time in Damian's entire life...
he saw genuine alarm on his father's face.
The king disappeared.
Not walked.
Not ran.
Disappeared.
Moving so fast that even Damian barely followed.
The chamber door exploded open.
Fenrir was already gone.
Sirius cursed.
A very bad sign.
The executioner immediately followed.
Scarlett stood up.
Her face had gone pale.
Very pale.
"Mother."
She didn't answer.
"Mother."
Still nothing.
The queen looked toward the floor.
Toward the depths beneath the castle.
Then she whispered.
"No..."
Damian felt a chill crawl up his spine.
The queen never looked afraid.
Not even during war.
Not even during assassination attempts.
Not even when facing elder vampires.
Yet now...
she looked terrified.
"What happened?"
Scarlett finally looked at him.
Her golden eyes trembled.
"The prison."
The words left her lips like a curse.
Damian immediately stood.
Ignoring the pain.
Ignoring his injuries.
"The prison?"
Another metallic sound echoed.
Much louder.
CLANG.
This time the entire castle shook.
Dust fell from the ceiling.
The walls trembled.
Far away screams erupted.
Servants.
Soldiers.
People had felt it.
Whatever was happening beneath Darkheart...
it was real.
Very real.
Damian's instincts screamed at him.
Danger.
Ancient danger.
The kind of danger that existed before kingdoms.
Before civilization.
Before history.
And somehow...
it was connected to him.
The prince grabbed a black coat from nearby.
Throwing it over his shoulders.
Scarlett immediately stepped in front of him.
"No."
Damian stopped.
"What?"
"You stay here."
The prince stared.
Then laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was ridiculous.
"Stay here?"
Another tremor shook the castle.
A distant roar echoed from below.
Deep.
Ancient.
Inhuman.
The sound made Damian's blood freeze.
Yet it also did something else.
Something worse.
It felt familiar.
Like hearing the voice of someone he had forgotten long ago.
Scarlett noticed his expression.
And became even more afraid.
"No."
Her voice trembled.
"You cannot go there."
"Why?"
The queen opened her mouth.
Then stopped.
The answer refused to come.
Because the truth was something she had hidden for eighteen years.
A truth she hoped Damian would never discover.
But fate was cruel.
And fate had finally arrived.
Another roar echoed.
Louder.
Closer.
The windows shattered.
BOOM!
Glass exploded throughout the chamber.
Wind rushed inside.
The storm entered the room.
Damian's crimson eyes widened.
Because for a split second...
he heard a voice.
Not with his ears.
Inside his mind.
Ancient.
Male.
Cold.
Powerful.
A voice buried beneath countless years.
A voice coming from somewhere deep below Darkheart.
And it spoke only three words.
"Come to me."
Damian froze.
His heartbeat accelerated.
Again.
"Come to me."
The voice sounded familiar.
Impossible.
But familiar.
As if he had heard it before he was born.
As if it had been waiting for him.
Watching him.
Calling him.
For eighteen years.
The prince's breathing became heavier.
Scarlett immediately noticed.
Her face lost all color.
Because she knew exactly what had happened.
The thing beneath Darkheart had sensed him.
And now...
it was calling.
The prophecy had truly begun.