Valencia Esmeray

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 - VII : Whispers In Blood

The orphanage felt quieter than usual as Valencia sat at the wooden desk, the list of visitors laid out before her. The room, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, seemed to stretch into an eerie silence that gnawed at her senses. The soft rustling of parchment as she flipped through the pages was the only sound cutting through the tension, though even that seemed muffled in the suffocating stillness.

Her fingers traced lightly over the names. She didn't expect anything unusual. Henry's name-her faithful butler-appeared as she knew it would. He had come a few weeks ago to finalize the twins' paperwork, nothing out of the ordinary. But as her gaze drifted further down the page, her breath caught.

There it was. Evelyn, one of her maids.

Valencia frowned, her pulse quickening. What was she doing here? she thought. Evelyn had never mentioned visiting the orphanage, and Valencia certainly hadn't sent her. What business could she possibly have there?

Suspicion prickled her skin, but as she reached the next page, the tension shifted into something far worse. Her hand froze mid-turn as the scent of copper hit her.

The parchment was smeared with blood.

Valencia's breath hitched, her chest tightening as her eyes fell on the words written in dark crimson:
So you are looking for me finally. Don't worry, this is just the trailer.

The blood was fresh-still tacky to the touch-and its metallic tang filled her nose. Her fingers trembled as she lifted the page closer to the candlelight. The letters, jagged and erratic, oozed malice, each stroke carved into the parchment like a deliberate threat. She knew that writing. She knew it all too well.

And suddenly, it felt as though the walls were closing in on her.

Valencia staggered back from the desk, her heart pounding so violently she could feel it in her throat. It couldn't be him. She had made certain of that. She had watched him die. I killed him, she thought, her mind scrambling to reject the horrific possibility that gnawed at her sanity. Yet here it was, a message written in the blood she knew had once belonged to an ancient, terrifying vampire.

He was supposed to be dead.

The realization hit her like ice water poured over her soul. It couldn't be him. He was gone, erased from existence by her own hand. And yet... her body trembled, her thoughts spinning in chaotic spirals as the candlelight flickered across the bloody page. There was no mistaking it. The smell, the texture, the threat. It could only belong to one person. Someone far older than Cassian, far more dangerous.

He's gone, she repeated to herself, though her conviction wavered. I killed him. But the blood, the writing, everything screamed that somehow, he wasn't.

She slammed the page down, as if doing so could erase the fear clawing at her insides. Gathering her composure, she stormed out of the orphanage, her heart racing faster than the carriage as it rattled toward her manor. The shadows outside seemed to twist, watching her, mocking her panic. But she couldn't afford to crumble now. There were still pieces to be put together.

Henry.

---

Bursting through the doors of her estate, Valencia wasted no time. She called for Henry, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

The butler appeared swiftly, his calmness in stark contrast to her frantic energy. "Yes, my lady?" he asked with his usual, unnerving poise.

She fixed her eyes on him, a thousand thoughts racing through her mind. "When you went to the orphanage for the paperwork-did Evelyn go with you?" Her voice was sharp, almost accusatory, as though daring him to deny her.

Henry frowned, clearly caught off guard. "No, my lady. I went alone, as instructed."

Valencia's breath quickened, the dread in her chest deepening. She knew Henry had no reason to lie, and his confusion only confirmed her suspicions. "Summon Evelyn," she commanded, her voice tight with urgency. "Now."

But Henry's expression shifted, a flicker of concern crossing his usually impassive face. "I'm afraid Evelyn is off today, my lady. She will not return until tomorrow."

Valencia's lips pressed into a thin line, suppressing the rising panic. She couldn't wait. Something was wrong-terribly wrong-and it all seemed to be closing in on her. The bloodied message felt like a noose tightening around her neck.

---

That night, sleep eluded her.

Valencia lay in her bed, but rest was impossible. The manor, usually her sanctuary, now felt like a prison. The flicker of candlelight from the hall cast long, creeping shadows that seemed to move on their own. Every creak of the house set her on edge, her mind playing tricks as her anxiety grew. The blood, the message, Evelyn... it all swirled in her head, a storm she couldn't outrun.

When the clock struck midnight, a knock at the door jolted her from her thoughts.

She froze, her heart thundering in her chest. The stillness in the manor shattered as the sound echoed again-three deliberate knocks against the wood. Valencia sat up, dread pooling in her gut. She hadn't been expecting anyone, especially not at this hour. Slowly, she wrapped her robe around her, every step toward the door feeling heavier than the last.

When she opened the door, the night air rushed in, cold and biting. No one was there.

But on the doorstep lay another letter.

Her hand trembled as she picked it up, the dark seal broken as though someone wanted her to read it immediately. She tore the letter open, her fingers numb with fear as she unfolded the parchment.

This time, the ink was dark blue, almost black. The message was simple, yet chilling:

Meet me in the forest behind the castle. You know where. Don't delay.

Her blood turned to ice. She knew that forest too well-the place where secrets festered, where darkness had always thrived. It was a place she had vowed never to return to, especially alone.

But this was no ordinary call. She didn't need the signature to know whose hand had penned those words. Him. Her mind recoiled at the thought, but her instincts screamed it was true.

Whoever-or whatever-had left that note wanted her to face the past.

---

Valencia moved quickly, gathering her weapons-vials of poison, hidden blades, anything that could give her the upper hand. She refused to be caught off guard, not again. Not by someone who had once haunted her every waking moment.

She was prepared for anything.

Wrapping her cloak tightly around her, she grabbed a night lamp and slipped into the cold night. The wind howled, its biting chill gnawing at her exposed skin, but she pressed on, making her way toward the forest.

The trees loomed ahead, their twisted branches reaching toward the sky like skeletal fingers. Fog clung to the ground, curling around her feet as she stepped deeper into the woods. Each footfall felt like a journey into oblivion, every sound amplified in the oppressive quiet.

She moved with purpose, but inside, she was unraveling. What could it all mean? Why now? She had killed him. She had made sure he would never rise again. And yet, the blood, the letter-it was as if the past had come back to devour her.

The pond appeared in the distance, its still waters reflecting the pale glow of the moon. Valencia stopped at its edge, her breath clouding the air in soft puffs. She held her lantern high, scanning the shadows, every muscle in her body tense, ready for whatever came next.

But nothing happened.

Only the eerie silence greeted her. She stood there, waiting, her heart pounding in her ears, the darkness pressing in from all sides.

And then, from the corner of her eye, she saw it-a shadow moving between the trees, watching her, waiting just beyond the light.