The Fangclaw Inheritance: The Eye of Half Blood

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                Sunlight beamed over the Hughsworth Household, where Annabella Fangclaw reached to the woman she was now. However, Langston, her butler, was dying of old age.He lied on his deathbed in his room. He was sickly and feeble; King and Charlotte pretended as though nothing was happening, even though in truth they were as sorrowful as Annabella, knew their closest friend was dying and there was nothing they could do about it. Her hand clasped into his wrinkly, trembling hand. Langston kept his cheerful disposition he always wore when he was around her, ignoring the tears coming from her eyes.

                “Why do you weep for me so?” Langston asked febbly.

                “I weep because you were my one and only friend,” Annabella weeped. “It’s not fair how you’re aging while I’m still young. To leave me by myself… how could you?”

                “I am human, while you are something else, Annabella,” Langston laughed, and then dealt a hard cough, where blood spit from his mouth. “Remember that you are the key that will stop it… you are the one they need.”

                “I don’t get it,” Annabella cried, worried that his dying state left him deranged. “What am I a key of, who are ‘they’?”

                Langston did not answer. He was still, lifeless and cold. He was no longer living, but Annabella thought of him teasing her, for he always loved how gullible she was. She continued to shake his stiff hand, despite his soul departing from this world. Tears began to accumulate from her eyes, denying that he is dead… thinking the idea of him being immortal. What if he was a Vampire? That would grant him immortality and forever bound to go on adventures for her. Where could she find one though? That was something that was difficult for her to answer. Charlotte placed a warm hand over hers, her eyes closed, her head shaken. King was the one who ultimately planned the funeral. Annabella gave permission, but she couldn’t bear to weep―at least not in front of her servants. Everyone from the city was invited to the funeral, yet at the night of the funeral not everyone from the city attended. They didn’t know who Langston was, but numerous other people from other countries bothered to show up.

                Annabella did not know who they were but the attendees weeped without tears, as if afraid the tears would kill them. She was exasperated by their rude behavior. She thought at first they were insulting the memory of Langston… they were insulting her directly. The cemetery of Langdon was silent and dark, the grass shaded with black.

                “Langston…” Annabella said in her dreams as though crying. A tear ran through her cheeks, which was caught by Serastios when he wiped the tear with his gloved hand.

                Annabella had awoken, the tenderness of his hand rubbed through her cheek. She rubbed her eyes using her hand and stared out into the surroundings. It was sunset, and the grassland was compatible with the orange sky. She thought for a long time who those guests were, and why they weeped without tears. She then remembered how Vampires loathed the water, especially Holy Water. Those attendees must’ve been Vampires and she didn’t notice anything. It was peaceful and quiet throughout the ride, but she couldn’t help but feel like grieving like she never did during the funeral.

                She wondered how everyone at home was doing. She guessed King was doing his daily job at the household concocting something for the surrogate while Charlotte tended with the supplies and welfare of the house. She hoped her servants were doing well, because if it weren’t for them… she wouldn’t have decided to travel to Adlet Island.