The Vampire Hunter

Chapter 19

The room was well lit. There was a desk at the far end of the room. It was dark brown and an array of papers were haphazardly strewn all over it. There was a single, black chair that was facing the doorway, right where I was. There were dark blue curtains drawn over the windows on the left wall. The floor was marble white, with dark indents in them, like many fights had taken place here and stakes had been vigorously stabbed through someone into the floor.

On the right side of the wall was a tall bookcase, that filled the whole wall. Looking closely, the books were in alphabetical order. The scuffle of a shoe reminded me that I wasn't alone in the room. I gulped and turned around. He had strawberry blond hair, a round face and bright, vibrant amethyst eyes. His nose was hooked and his jaw was squared. He was tall and skinny, with boney arms and legs.

He wore a red robe that was similar to John's. On the left, near the breast there was a white diamond sewn onto it, just like the one on the flag. Involuntarily, I took a step back. Seeing this, the vampire smiled smugly. I cursed myself, again, for not bringing a stake. Or any type of weapon for that matter.

"I could smell you from miles away, you know? Especially in the courtyard, you should be careful about where you hide. Especially when the wind's blowing," he said.   

This was the vampire from the courtyard then, Brandon was it? Then I realised that he could smell me, and when asked he lied.

"Why didn't you say something?" I asked him, my eyes narrowed.

"To His Majesty? Because, your scent is familiar and I wanted the chance to see whom you were for myself before our king seized you," he explained. I glanced around the room, coming to the conclusion that this was John's study. 

Earlier, the running feet and the booming voice had come from this room. This must be where he got all his information. Knowing vampires, they probably wouldn't want to follow human society so this room must be the equivalent to a throne room.

"John - the king - said the scent was familiar too. So, that begs the question. Familiar to what?" I asked. I knew, deep down, that it must be my mother, but that made absolutely no sense at all. How would John and Brandon know my mother's scent if she supposedly killed herself before she was able to be brought here. Again, I came to the conclusion that I'd been living a lie and my mother was somehow twisted into the story, only not in the way my father had told me.

"Why, it's familiar to the late Queen's scent," Brandon said, like this wasn't a big deal. Like that bit of information didn't just shatter my heart even more. Like that wasn't a bomb that just exploded inside of my chest.

"What?" I asked. I felt frozen, like I wasn't really there, like I was somehow in third person, observing what was happening whilst feeling all the dread and betrayal.

"You almost look just like her too. Why, it's almost uncanny!" He exclaimed, he seemed totally oblivious to my rigid statue, my shock and suddenly I wanted to punch this son of a bitch. However, learning from past experiences, I knew that would be a terrible idea.

"Tell me. Tell me the story of the queen, start from the beginning." I knew I would regret demanding this as soon as I found out, the thing is I felt this burning desire, compelling me to uncover the truth. And it sucked.

He told me. Here's the story:

The King had taken a liking to my mother, but she was with my father, so, to distract himself, he picked a vampire to marry, this was Isaac's mother. Once he learned that he was to be expecting a son - don't ask about how he was conceived, I wasn't a vampire; I couldn't tell you- he was overjoyed. He forgot all about my mother and made Isaac and his mother his sole focus. Soon, though, I was born. Once John heard the news he was beyond mad. He killed the queen and locked his son away; intending to imprison him forever whilst he went after my mother.

So, once my mother heard the news, she feared for my life, thinking that if she didn't somehow control John, he'd come and kill me. So, she left to live with him, lying to everyone and spreading the news that she'd died whilst trying to escape John's wrath, when secretly she'd been living here. Unfortunately, my father figured out the truth and vowed to get his revenge, his brilliant plan was to send me in here as bait, to lure my mother back out. Somehow, from what I gathered, he'd blamed me for mum leaving.

What failed to reach his mind, though, was that she'd passed away two years ago from cancer. At this point, I stopped Brandon. My mind couldn't take anymore. I'd been lied to over and over and over again; my mother was alive and hadn't even tried to contact me. My father had used me to get revenge. Somehow, my already negative view on love had gotten worse. It was because of love that all this had happened. I was just about ready to storm out of here, scout out John and punch the living shit out of him.

I would've done, if the worn out figure of Isaac hadn't stopped in the doorway. Perfect, now he was here and was going to make this situation a whole lot worse. And, to top it off, I was just so pissed about the story that I wanted to punch Isaac. 

"How long have you been there?" I asked Isaac in monotone. His silver eyes stared directly into mine, his black hair looked dishevelled, like he'd ran his hands through it numerous times. His pale arms were healing from a few scratches that he must've earned from running through trees to get here. He still wore the same shirt, the ragged hole stained with his blood, his black skinnies were even more shredded than before. For once, he looked worse than me.

I mean, he actually had worry lines. He licked his lips and I knew at once why he hadn't launched himself at me and engulfed me in a hug; he was hungry. He was so worried about me that he hadn't even bothered to take care of himself. 

"Long enough," he said with a strained voice. Suddenly the lights flickered. I turned, ready to face Brandon, only to realise he wasn't there. "Where the fuck did he go?" I growled. Isaac stood alert, then he sniffed. He barely had time to warn me, when two cold hands were restraining me. My eyes widened in alarm, I looked over to Isaac to see him struggling against a big, beefy man who had his arms wrapped around Isaac's body. 

John walked into the room, his greying hair glistening. He had a devilish smirk plastered onto his face. He clasped his hands in front of his face.

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

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gUYS. Tell me what to write next.

bECAUSE IF SOMEONE SUGGESTS SOMETHING THAT REALLY JUMPS OUT AT ME, I SWEAR I'LL DO MY BEST TO WRITE IT.