A dark, gaping hole suddenly appeared and spat out a lady like she was nothing more than trash. It closed behind her, vanishing into nothingness.
She fell, letting out a sharp hiss of pain.
"Ouch."
Slowly, she pushed herself up, wincing, and took in her surroundings. Trees stretched endlessly in every direction, bushes scattered below, and the melodies of birds chirping filled the air.
"This can't be the Earth I've heard of since I was a child… right?" she murmured, amusement dancing in her voice.
She wandered carefully, observing every detail. Soon, she reached a vantage point, and the sight before her stole her breath. A sprawling city lay ahead—towering buildings, bustling streets, machines moving swiftly up and down.
"Wow," she muttered under her breath. "In Marlovor, we ride horses, but these people… they ride things I've never even seen. Seems like earth isn't that bad huh?"
Her thoughts shifted to her purpose. Now I have to find Scott. Scott, where the heck are you?
She stepped forward—but the scorching sun burned her leg. Reflexively, she drew it back, squinting in pain. Seeking shelter, she darted under a nearby tree.
"Another thing I have to avoid… the sun. For the rest of my life," she muttered.
Cautiously, she made her way into the city, keeping to shaded paths.
She saw as cars zoomed up and down, people moving to different destinations.
The hustling and bustling of the city made it look so lively. It piqued her interest in the Mortal world, eager to unfold the hidden mysteries guiding these humans, learn about them, understand them.
She observed her surroundings, the mortals' way of living; their dressing.
She looked at herself; her dressing looked so ancient. Some passerby stared at her like a weirdo. She didn't understand their gestures, but it made her feel flattered. _Of course I'm_ _beautiful._
She just kept wandering about like a lost sheep until her eyes caught a group of men hovering over a young girl. Something about them didn't seem right.
She moved to a corner and observed the scene. It was obvious, they wanted to...
Her eyes widened as she rushed forward. "What do you want? What are you trying to do to her?"
One of the men leered at her. "Oh, look what we've got here…" He began to walk slowly towards her, his eyes burning with unfathomable desire.
"What we're doing to her has nothing to do with you weirdo; and why the f*CK are u putting on these," one of them said looking at her from head to toes. "Who still wear these? What year do u think we are in? 1700's?" The rest of them burst into laughter.
Her dark aura flared instinctively. She could feel the temptation to crush their bones with her bare hands, to drain their blood until it ran as white as her teeth—but she restrained herself. Rash actions could reveal the existence of vampires, and secrecy was paramount.
The man who seemed to be the leader barked, "Seize them!"
Before they could move, her feet found their marks. One blow to each assailant sent them staggering, blood oozing from cracked faces. She moved with terrifying precision, each strike leaving them unable to stand.
Turning to the girl, she asked softly, "Are you okay?"
The girl shook her head rapidly, tears brimming. "Thank you so much. Thank you for saving me," she said, bowing slightly.
Even after centuries as a queen, her aura remained authoritative, domineering, and undeniably intimidating. The girl shuddered slightly at her presence.
"Everything is fine," she said. "Now, you have to do me a favor."
"Sure! Anything, anything for you," the girl replied eagerly.
"Okay," she said. "You have to find me a place to stay. I have nowhere to go."
"I live with my grandma, dad, and brother. You can stay with us," the girl offered kindly.
A faint smile touched her lips. "I am Gretchen," she said, extending her hand.
"I'm Pressly Orlando," the girl replied, shaking her hand.
"Let me take you home so you can rest. You look tired," Pressly said.
Gretchen smiled faintly as they walked through the streets. Her eyes drifted over every detail until a billboard caught her attention—a man putting on shades stared down at her.
"Who's that?" she asked.
"Who's who?" Pressly followed her gaze. "Oh, him? He's Liam McQueen, a celebrity. So handsome… so cold, icy, like a mafia boss. He takes no sh*t from anyone. But I… I love him so much."
Gretchen gave her a sidelong glance, like she was an idiot, barely hiding a smirk. _Humans_ … she scoffed inwardly..
"Let's just continue going home," Pressly said.
They stopped in front of a modest house—neither too old nor too shabby. "This is my home," Pressly said. "I live here with my grandma, dad, and brother."
Gretchen's smile was faintly sarcastic. Even in Marlovor, I've never lived in a place like this. How am I going to survive here?
"Lead the way, please," she said, and Pressly nodded, ushering her inside.
"Grandma, Dad, Jace… meet Gretchen. She'll be staying with us. And before you ask, she saved me from some thugs trying to rob me," Pressly explained.
Her grandmother, Maraise, stepped forward, smiling warmly and taking Gretchen's hand. "You saved my granddaughter. Thank you so much..."
"I have no family," Gretchen interrupted abruptly, not minding to introduce herself formally.
Maraise exchanged a glance with Pressly's dad before turning back to Gretchen. "Oh, dear, that's okay. Pressly will show you where to stay and make you something to eat."
"You look tired," Maraise added gently.
Gretchen gave another faint smile as Pressly led her further inside.
"She looks like a queen… she acts like one," Pressly's father, Peter whispered.
Maraise nodded in agreement. "Everyone is a queen. It just depends on how well you exhibit it."
MARLOVOR...
A young vampire carried an ancient spellbook toward Maliveth's chamber, her steps quiet against the cold stone floor. The air inside the chamber felt heavier than usual, thick with the scent of burnt herbs and old blood.
She carefully placed the book on an ornate stand carved with forbidden symbols. The moment her fingers left its cover, a strange chill crept up her spine.
She turned to leave.
Then she heard it.
A faint squeaking sound echoed from the far side of the chamber.
Her heart skipped.
Slowly, she turned around.
From the shadows, a small wooden door—one she had never noticed before—creaked open ever so slightly. Darkness pooled behind it, thick and unnatural, as though it were alive.
Her breath hitched.
No one was supposed to enter this chamber without permission. And that door… it had never been there before.
Swallowing hard, she stepped closer, with a candle in her hand, her pulse thundering in her ears. The air grew colder with every step, and a faint whisper brushed against her skin.
She slowly approached the door and pushed it open.
Her gaze fell on what was hidden in the shadows, concealed in darkness.
She slowly walked forward, making her way towards the unknown, quivering.
The more she got closer, the clearer the unknown entity got, making her heart limp.
She flashed the candle above what was in front of her and her eyes widened in shock.