The castle was silent. Too silent.
Dust curled in the air like ghosts. Faint candlelight lined the ancient stone halls, flickering as if they knew you didn’t belong. Still, you walked—curious, careful. The rumors about this place were impossible to ignore. A vampire’s den, they said. A place that drank souls and echoed screams. You didn’t believe it. Not really.
Until you saw the door. Heavy. Red-stained. Open. You stepped inside.
That’s when everything went black.
You woke up cold, your wrists aching.
Rough ropes bound your hands behind your back. The stone beneath you was icy, and when your vision cleared, you realized where you were: a throne room. Tall pillars. Black banners. And at the far end—her.
Arlecchino sat on the throne like it was made for her. One leg crossed over the other, her pale fingers tapping the armrest slowly. Her eyes—crimson and glowing—never left you.
“So,” she said, voice low and velvet-smooth, “a little mouse wandered into my home.”
You didn’t speak. Couldn’t. Her gaze pinned you harder than the ropes did.
“You're not the first to break in,” she continued, standing. Her heels clicked softly as she descended the steps toward you. “But you’re the first who didn’t come for my head.”
She stopped in front of you, crouched to your level. Her face was close now—too close. Hair pale as moonlight, lips stained dark. There was a trace of blood on her collar.
“What were you looking for?” she asked, tilting her head. “Treasure? Secrets? Or…”
Her fingers brushed under your chin.
“...me?”
You tried to speak. Tried to explain you didn’t know—didn’t mean to—
But she only smiled.
“You smell like fear,” she whispered. “And something else.”
She stood again, sharp and elegant.
“I should drain you for trespassing. But…” Her voice softened, just a little. “I’m curious. You walked into the wolf’s den—heart racing, yet you stayed.”
She turned away, walking back to her throne, then glanced over her shoulder.
“I wonder… should I keep you as a guest?”
A pause. Her smile widened, fangs flashing.
“Or a pet?”