The Vampire Prince's Blindfolded Bride
Chapter 391: Griffin’s Past 2

Chapter 391: Griffin’s Past 2

Griffin’s eyes locked onto the gleaming sword in the man’s hand, knowing what was coming but he was powerless to stop it. With a swift, brutal motion, the blade was driven into his abdomen.

A sharp pain tore through his body, and blood spilled from his mouth as he doubled over, gasping. The leader and his men burst into cruel laughter, their mocking voices echoing through the night.

"Pray to the Lord that I didn’t skin you alive, Griffin," the leader sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "You and your filthy family owed me a lot of money."

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Griffin reached out with a trembling hand, gripping the man’s boot. "I will haunt you to death," he muttered, his voice weak but filled with venom. "Remember my words."

The leader only chuckled, a twisted grin spreading across his face. He viciously kicked Griffin’s shoulder, then pressed down hard on the gaping wound, causing a fresh wave of agony to surge through Griffin’s body. "The poor don’t have the power to dominate. Keep that in mind," the leader said, his voice cold and final. "Now die and join your family in the afterlife."

Satisfied, the leader turned away, ordering his men to withdraw, leaving Griffin to bleed out alone in the desolate forest.

As the pain coursed through him, Griffin looked up at the dark, starless sky, tears streaming down his face. Despair weighed heavily on his chest, more suffocating than the wound itself. "Why?" he whispered, his voice breaking. "Wh-why did you do this to us?" He questioned the heavens, his faith shattered, searching for answers from a God if he existed.

Griffin had lost all sense of time as he lay there, bleeding out in the darkness. Each second felt like an eternity, the pain intensifying with every heartbeat. He didn’t want to die—not like this, not before he had the chance to avenge his family. But his strength was waning, his body growing colder as life slowly slipped away.

Then, amidst the oppressive silence of the night, Griffin heard the faint rustling of leaves. Summoning what little strength he had left, he forced his eyes open and managed to whisper, "Please... save me. I want to live."

A shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, towering over him. As the figure stepped closer, Griffin could barely make out the features of a man with an air of regal authority.

It was none other than Magnus Lukeson, the feared Vampire Prince.

Unbeknownst to Griffin, his trembling hand reached out, clutching the vampire’s leg in a desperate plea for help. "Please... save me. I want to kill them. I b-beg you," Griffin’s voice was barely audible, growing fainter with each word.

Magnus regarded the young man with mild amusement. "A human asking for help from a vampire," he mused, a smirk playing on his lips. Kneeling down, he looked into Griffin’s eyes. "You’re in luck, boy. I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll grant your wish." With that, Magnus bit into his own hand, allowing his crimson blood to flow from the wound. He held it over Griffin’s mouth, letting the blood drip onto his lips.

Griffin, weak and desperate, drank the blood, feeling a strange warmth spreading through his body. "You are going to die," Magnus said in a low voice. "Be ready to embrace your new form. I hope you find the strength to kill those who wronged you." His crimson eyes bore into Griffin’s as he spoke.

As the last remnants of life slipped away, Griffin exhaled a final, shuddering breath. Magnus watched dispassionately, licking the blood from his hand. "Poor boy," he murmured softly, before rising to his feet and disappearing into the night, leaving Griffin to begin his journey into the darkness, towards a new, bloodthirsty existence.

With a sharp gasp, Griffin jolted awake, his body surging with energy he had never felt before. The sky above was tinged with the soft light of early morning, the first rays of dawn creeping over the horizon. He blinked, trying to make sense of what had happened. Everything around him seemed unnervingly vivid—his vision had sharpened to the point where he could see every leaf, every blade of grass in startling detail.

"Am I alive... or am I in the other world?" Griffin mumbled, his voice trembling as he slowly sat up. He remembered the sword that had been plunged into his abdomen, the agonizing pain, and the darkness that followed. But now, there was no pain, only an unsettling sense of power coursing through his veins.

Hesitantly, he lifted his blood-stained shirt, expecting to see the fatal wound. Instead, he found his skin smooth and unmarked, the gaping injury completely healed.

Griffin’s heart pounded in his chest as he ran his fingers over the spot where the sword had pierced him. There was no wound as if he never got hurt.

As Griffin stood there, a strange thirst began to consume him—not for water, but for blood. His throat burned with a dry, aching hunger, and his eyes darted around as his pupils dilated.

The memory of the man who had told him he was a vampire flashed through his mind, but it felt like a distant dream. Why would a vampire save him, a mere human, when they were known for killing?

"Ugh... My head... I need blood," Griffin muttered, clutching his head as the hunger intensified. Instinctively, he took a step forward, intending to run, and was shocked by the extraordinary speed with which he moved. It was as if the world around him slowed down, yet he moved faster than he ever thought possible.

His thoughts quickly shifted to his family, the memory of their bloodied bodies haunting him. But as he began to run towards his home, something else caught his attention—the scent of fresh human blood. It was intoxicating, irresistible, and his thirst overpowered every other thought.

He didn’t care who the blood belonged to; all that mattered was quenching the relentless hunger gnawing at him.

In a blur of movement, Griffin found himself before a lone figure, his instincts taking over. Without thinking, he pushed the person against a wall, sinking his fangs into their neck.

The warm, rich blood filled his mouth, and as he drank deeply, a powerful energy surged through him, revitalizing his entire being. The hunger that had tormented him moments before began to fade, replaced by a sense of euphoria.

Once his thirst was satisfied, Griffin released the person, who slumped to the ground, dazed but alive. Wiping the blood from his lips, he stared at his fingers, now stained with the crimson evidence of what he had become.

"I’m a vampire," he whispered, the words a revelation and a curse. A slow, wicked smirk spread across his face as the realization fully sank in.

The power he felt was unlike anything he had ever known, and with it came a burning desire for revenge. "Now, I’ll kill them all and avenge for my family," Griffin vowed, his voice filled with newfound resolve. The same men who had destroyed his family would soon know the wrath of him they could never hope to escape.

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