Villains and Losers

1 A monster

I picked up the nail file- cold, metallic- and started sharpening my teeth. Each grind and scrape against my enamel sent a jolt of pain through my jaw, but I gritted through it, desperate to make them pointy. Desperate to be seen.

Desperate to be loved.

As I worked, tears blurred my vision, mingling with the taste of blood in my mouth.

I sharpened harder, my hands shaking with the effort. The pain was excruciating, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my heart. I imagined their faces when they saw me with my new teeth, imagined the pride and acceptance that might finally replace their contempt.

But deep down, I knew it was a foolish hope. No matter what I did, I would never be one of them. I would always be the disappointment, the failure, the burden.

When I finally stopped, my mouth was a wreck of jagged edges and raw flesh. I stumbled to the mirror, hoping for a miracle. But all I saw was a broken, desperate child, mutilated and bleeding.

Feeling all my hope gone, a suffocating weight settled in my chest, squeezing the remnants of my courage. Leaving behind an unbearable emptiness.

I collapsed to the floor, my legs refusing to hold me up any longer. The cold tiles pressed against my skin as tears streamed down mixed with the blood that dripped from my lips.

As the sounds of my family's laughter continued to float up the stairs. The room seemed to close in around me, the walls pressing tighter and tighter and tighter. And I could only clutched at my chest, trying to fend off the panic that threatened to consume me.

As I lay there, broken and bleeding, I realized that no amount of sharpening would ever make me sharp enough to cut through their hatred.

A hand suddenly reached for the nail file on the floor. It was Kalen, the first son, the Duke's heir.

"What the hell is this? What were you trying to pull?"

I didn't dare lift my head—if he saw my eyes, my icy blue eyes that differed so much from their crimson red, he'd hate me even more.

That's why they never let me go outside. I was a freak. A walking, breathing reminder of the family's shame.

"Why won't you answer?"

I tried to open my lips, to speak, to beg for his mercy, but my mouth was torn, the pain too sharp. Blood pooled and spilled from my lips, each attempt at speaking reduced to nothing but incoherent whimpers.

"Answer me, damn it!"

I shrieked as he threw the nail file across the room, the metallic clatter followed by the shattering of a vase. My breath caught in my throat as he stalked closer, his gaze bearing down on me.

"You were planning to leave? You actually thought you could escape this house? Is that what you thought?"

His words were ice, each one striking deeper than the last.

"I wanted to die," I managed to whisper, the truth clawing its way out of me in a desperate murmur. It was the confession I had buried for so long, now laid bare at his feet.

He laughed. A cold, hollow laugh that twisted in the air like smoke, mocking the pain that bled from me. But then, just as suddenly, he stopped.

"I see." Kalen's voice softened, and for a fleeting moment, I thought—hoped—he might understand. But as he bent down to pick up the broken shards of the vase, that hope was quickly crushed."It's so simple for someone like you to die. One shove of this into your head, and it should've been over—no healing, no coming back. But no, you're still here, clinging on like a roach.If you wanted to die, you should've done it earlier."

I curled up tighter, trying to disappear into myself. His words hit harder than the physical pain. Why was I still alive? Why did I keep trying to prove I could belong in a place that only brought me misery?

I should have ended things sooner.

My eyes flicked to a shard of glass nearby. Maybe it wasn't too late. My hand reached out, ready to finally take control of my fate. But before I could grip it, Kalen's boot came down hard on my hand, crushing the hope out of me as I screamed in agony.

"No, no. You should have done that before, I wouldn't have given a damn." Kalen said coldly, kicking the shard away from my reach. He crouched down, his voice dripping with malice. "But I've changed my mind. I'd rather you rot here in this manor, locked away, suffering with us. Living forever in the torment of knowing you'll never escape. You'll never die."

As if to punctuate his words, blood started dripping from his hand, slithering unnaturally into the air, twisting and coiling until it formed a dark, wicked sword. His expression didn't change as he swung the sword in a brutal arc, smashing the mirror into shards. The sound echoed through the room, and with it, any remaining hope I had left.

One by one, he obliterated every sharp object in the room—the vases, the glass, anything I might use to end it all—until nothing remained but pulverized fragments at his feet. He glanced at me, his crimson eyes glowing with disdain and satisfaction.

"You'll never get the easy way out," He hissed. "You're going to live, and you're going to suffer. Just like the rest of us."

"Brother." A voice called out from the doorframe, slicing through the suffocating air like a blade. Kalen stopped mid-swing, his blood sword dissipating into crimson mist.

"Why do you even bother?" Theodore asked, stepping into the room with a casual arrogance, his red eyes gleaming under the dim light.

"I just do what has to be done, Theo."

"Just let her be." Theodore's voice dripped with disdain as he moved closer, circling me like a predator. "She's of no use to anyone. Looks like a monster, but weaker than a human." His hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back. My vision blurred with tears as his gaze devoured my appearance. He licked his lips, a sick hunger flaring to life in his expression. "Why don't we try it? See if she really is one."

He scoffed, turning his back to Theodore. "Forget it. You'll only ruin my appetite."

Theodore shoved me roughly, and I fell back, the jagged edges of broken glass digging into my palms. "Oh, come on, Kal. I know you'd want a taste."

"You know that one wouldn't heal."

"And no one will know," his voice growing darker as he loomed over me. "She's only been locked in this manor her whole life, and it'll stay that way."

"Stop it," Kalen snapped, though his tone lacked urgency. "A spoonful of her blood might be enough to kill her. And that's just a waste. I'd rather she live in pain for decades than die in seconds from a bite."

He then turned toward the door. "Let's go. The Duke is waiting."

Theodore gave me one last lingering glance, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. "Well, isn't that just perfect."

And then they were gone.

Leaving me alone in the wreckage, surrounded by shattered glass and broken dreams. I struggled to sit up, my body trembling from both the pain and the weight of their words. As I shifted, a sharp sting shot through my ankle. A small shard of glass had embedded itself into my skin. I winced, pulling it out slowly, watching the blood seep from the wound. It didn't stop, and I knew it wouldn't.

I never healed.

A sob broke free from my chest, and once it started, I couldn't hold it back. The tears came in heavy waves, my body wracked with sobs as I sat there, bleeding, trembling, and utterly alone.

He was right. I was nothing but a freak. Why did I even bother? Why had I tried to sharpen my teeth, to transform myself into something I could never be?

Why did I even try so hard?