"When did it begin?
The change to come was undetectable.
The open wounds expose the importance of
Our innocence.
A high that can never be bought or sold."
These words have been with Y/N L/N for years. Once a hardworking, honest man who is seeking re...
When Y/N turned towards said voice, he found himself looking at a young woman, around his age. She looked up at him, still questioning why he was here and who he was.
Йой! Нажаль, це зображення не відповідає нашим правилам. Щоб продовжити публікацію, будь ласка, видаліть його або завантажте інше.
???:" Care to explain yourself?"
Y/N:" My name is Y/N. My reason for being here is quite complicated, so to put it simple, I'm looking for my daughter."
???:" You're looking for your daughter...in a romanian castle in the middle of nowhere."
Y/N:" Yes. As I said, it's more complicated than that, but I don't have the time to explain everything. And who are you, if I may ask?"
Emily:" My name is Emily. I keep the ground floor in check."
Y/N:" So you're a servant to the people in here?"
Emily:" You could say that. Lady Dimitrescu doesn't leave me much freedom though."
Y/N(mind):" So that's the name of the tall lady. She was looking forward to something when I was up there..."
Y/N:" How long have you been here?"
Emily:" About two months, but it's not as pleasent as you think, Y/N. The lady and her daughters aren't exactly the friendly, merciful type."
Y/N:" She talked about taking care of me. What does that usually mean?"
Emily:" It means draining you of your blood and making a scarecrow out of you like the ones out in the fields. The men in this castle often don't survive for very long, so if we don't see each other again, it was nice meeting you."
Y/N:" So much for being somewhere normal..."
Emily:" I have to go now. The ladies await their usual drink of Sanguis Virginis."
With that, Emily left and walked somewhere else while Y/N just digested what he heard. Men that came to this castle were drained of their blood and then made into Scarecrows. Lady Dimitrescu was apparently a lot more sadistic than he expected, so his growing worry was justified. Talking to another person was a relief though, easing him into a small taste of relaxation. He took a moment to write something in the journal he kept around. Writing down his thoughts was kind of therapy for him to cope with what bugged him.
Йой! Нажаль, це зображення не відповідає нашим правилам. Щоб продовжити публікацію, будь ласка, видаліть його або завантажте інше.
