The lady walked out of the sea, her upper body covered by her long hair. "Andre!" she called out to her lover who was supposed to be by the riverbank.
Andre crept up from behind, throwing a blanket over her. On instinct, her fist connected with his gut and she threw off the cover.
"I'm so sorry." She placed a hand on his stomach. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
"I deserved that." Andre straightened up and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace.
"Took you long enough." She stood on her toes, seizing his mouth in a hot and passionate kiss. "I've missed you."
"Same here." Andre tucked her hair behind her ear. "I have a big surprise for you." He smiled. "You'll have to close your eyes though."
Selena turned around, her palms over her eyes. She couldn't wait to see what Andre had for her.
Three men emerged from the bushes, each one surrounding her. "You can open your eyes."
"I..." Her voice trailed off. "Andre," she stepped backward, alarmed. "Who are these men?" Her heart thumped hard against her chest.
The men grabbed her. She punched and kicked, but they were too strong. She was dragged to where other mermaids like her were bound in chains.
"Stay still." Andre struck her hard across the face and bound her to the others.
"Andre!" Selena wailed loudly. "I loved you! How could you do this to me?"
"Love?" He scoffed. "I'd never fall in love with a despicable creature like you." He spat on her.
A new figure appeared — much taller, with an aura so dark it swallowed all the warmth. The air thickened as he approached, every step like thunder. The other men dropped to their knees instantly.
"We've got them, my prince," Andre said, his eyes fixed to the floor. He dared not look him in the eyes.
Caysen stood before the mermaids, his eyes cold, soulless, and filled with ancient hatred. His very presence radiated death. The vampire lord of Erston — feared in every realm — was known for one thing: cruelty.
"Bring them to the castle," he commanded, his voice sharp as shards of glass.
THE CASTLE OF ERSTON
The carriage rode into the palace, coming to a halt at the front doors where a stern-faced woman stood with two helps by her side.
"Walk!" Whips slashed across delicate backs, tearing screams from the lips of the captured. They had been foolish. Their parents had warned them about humans — about him. But they hadn't listened.
"Prince Caysen." The woman curtsied. She was Samira, his aunt. "Welcome home."
Caysen turned to the girls, his piercing gaze slicing through them like blades. He studied them as though deciding how best to destroy them.
They were forced to kneel before him.
"Please spare us!" they begged. The mermaid-killing vampire was no myth — he stood right before them.
"Your tears mean nothing to me," he said, calm yet soaked in venom. There was no mercy in his voice. "Bring them to the courtyard."
"Move it!" The guards lashed out with their whips again, dragging the girls to the dreaded courtyard — the place of death. No soul brought here had ever walked out alive.
"Please!" Selena cried, trembling. "Spare us!"
Caysen stood over them, a blade in his hand — long, obsidian, and cursed. He was a being of death and torment, and he enjoyed it.
"I will let only one of you go," he said, lips curling into a smirk. "On one condition."
They were desperate — willing to do anything.
"Where is the Tears of the Mermaid?" he demanded. "Tell me where it is, and you will live."
Tear? Confusion blanketed their faces. They had never heard of such a thing. He was going to kill them.
"Don't play stupid, you vile creatures!" Caysen growled. In a flash, he swung his sword and severed one of their heads clean off. Her blood sprayed across the courtyard. Her body slumped.
Screams erupted, their bodies shook with heart wrenching sobs.
"Kill every last one of them," he ordered coldly. "Drain them dry."
He watched as his guards plunged daggers into their necks, silencing cries and draining life. Each corpse was placed over an altar where the blood flowed into a stone chalice.
When the ritual was complete, Caysen lifted the chalice and drank. The warm blood slid down his throat, silencing the ache in his chest — the curse that tormented him day and night.
The curse of the dying mermaid. A blood he'd drank during a feast that had come to ruin his life. It coursed in his veins, gnawing at him from within. He had to find the tears. That was the only cure.
"Your rewards shall be sent to you," he told the men who had lured the mermaids from the sea. With that, Caysen turned and strode back into the palace.
The Wicked Vampire Lord of Erston had fed — for now. He had to go see her.
Caysen took a burning torch, lighting up his way as he made his descent down to the dungeon. He scrunched his face in disgust as the foul stench of decaying bodies wafted through his nose.
He stood before her cell—magdalene. A mermaid born of a sorcerer who was cast out of see for being a halfling.
"You look worse." His voice laced with contempt.
The chains clanked against one another as she tried to sit up. Her aged and wrinkly face hidden by her long grey hair.
"And you're dying slowly." She mocked him.
"Aren't you tired of rotting away in this dump? Help me find it and I'll release you."
Her laughter echoed round the dungeon. "you'll die a slow and painful death, there's no escaping it!"
"You old hag!" He banged on the iron bars furiously. "I'll have the last laugh, just you wait and see." He stormed off with her cackle seeing him off.