To His Hell and Back
Chapter 51: Follow The Whispers

Chapter 51: Follow The Whispers

Agnes’s deadly offer made Arabella acutely aware of the simmering hatred that humans had long harbored toward vampires. It was inevitable, after all. From the moment Versailles was founded, it had remained untouched by creatures of the night— beings that thrived on blood. But that era of safety was over, as the new king hailed from the vampires’ kin. At all costs, he wanted the vampires to live in security while maintaining his control over the humans, ensuring they could never harm his people or the kingdom he ruled.

To the humans, his laws were merely a means of enforcing submission.

Arabella wondered just how many humans would actually bow down to these new laws. How many were currently planning to uproot the vampiric influence from the kingdom?

As Agnes’s grim gaze still locked on her, Arabella offered her a smile, trying not to make it awkward, "No. No, it’s nothing like that. He is a vampire, but he’s different."

At this, Agnes showed her a bewildered face, as if asking her, ’How could a vampire ever be different?’. Seems like Donna wasn’t the only one who hold the thought of all vampires are the same but Bella grew to wonder if perhaps these people were right, and maybe, she was the one who was trying to believe in an illusion that there are goods amidst these vampires, that perhaps with a good law they could live in a harmony.

Bella sighed. She also questions why she keeps protecting Cassius’s good name in front of Agnes. She’s a slave. Isn’t this the right moment to escape from the dangers? From him? But when she thought of it clearly, it wasn’t that she didn’t want to run away, but if she did, she felt that she would only meet an even bigger danger as this town feels amiss.

It wasn’t that she didn’t leave because she wanted to know about him.

Right, her decision on not leaving him wasn’t also because she had learnt about the gap between his cold icy heart, not because she believes there is good in him, or that there is humanity in him.

It’s just that this wasn’t the right time to leave yet. Not now.

Agnes then reached the end of the staircase while she still stood in the middle of it, lost in her thoughts.

Seeing her, Agnes spoke up, "How about walking around if you can’t get a good night’s rest, Miss? There is a well known fountain here that could grant you wishes if you pray to it hard enough. I used to come there when things are hard... perhaps you are in need of a little prayer and miracles."

Though Arabella never believed in those, she smiled as she nodded her head toward Agnes.

"Thank you for the advice," and as she said that, Agnes smiled, as if the earlier grimness she showed was just a fraction of Bella’s own illusions.

On the advice of the innkeeper, Bella put on the new fluffy boots given by Cassius for a walk. She looked around the dark sky, her head lost in thoughts as she wondered if Cassius was going to allow her to see Ariel just by coming into this village.

An odd man. An odd vampire.

The reason why she believed something was still good in him was perhaps because she also knew well that most humans were worse than him, yes, just like those people in her old village.

She didn’t want to believe in all the good things of Cassius and forgot all the bad things he had done, but compared to being kicked, beaten, or falsely rumored, he wasn’t all that bad. She also thought about her father, the man who she would love to kill herself, but if she had a knife in her hand, would she ever have the courage to stab him?

She could still remember how, as a child, her father would put her on his shoulders; the laughter that echoed from her memories made her feel lonely.

What about Cassius? Does he ever think about the good things of the past?

Does he ever have one?

As Bella gazed at the spot Agnes had described, she spotted a small well. Its stone foundation was blanketed in moss, giving it an air of neglect, while a weathered wooden lid sealed its opening.

Is it not a fountain?

And looking at how eerie this was, would people really drop a coin, make a wish, and then pray?

Instead of a good wish for miracles, it feels as though the people here would clasp their hands to pray for a curse.

Bella wondered if she could really pray here. Here, hands reached to the lid of the well, slowly opening it when she suddenly heard the sound of someone singing. Her head immediately lifted, and her neck snapped to look to the left, where she could hear the sound coming from.

It was a high pitch singing, someone vocalizing from one tone to a higher one, enough for Bella to wonder if this was the voice of a fairy. She could see a faint white figure shifting from one tree to another, dancing as she paced with her bare feet around the forest floor.

The sight was ethereal, but at the same surreal and somewhat creepy.

Arabella’s emerald eyes widened in shock as the eerie singing drifted closer, only for the shadowy figure to slip further away. It was as if the closer the woman came, the more distant her voice became, and yet the farther she moved, the louder her song echoed through the night.

A shiver ran down Arabella’s spine, but she stepped away from the well, drawn forward by the ghostly trail of footprints leading deeper into the forest. Hesitation clawed at her, but she reached for the nearest candle placed by the well, its frail flame flickering against the darkness. It was a pitiful light against the abyss she was about to enter, but it was all she had.

The melody faded as Bella’s boots pressed into the damp forest floor. Yet, something about the voice unsettled her beyond the unnatural way it carried. She knew this song. Somewhere, sometime... she had heard it before.

Then it struck her.

She and her sister had once sung this very tune, their voices entwining in innocent harmony. But the memory curdled in her mind, for she could still see the moment their father had stormed in, rage twisting his face.

From that day on, neither of them had dared to sing again, silenced by the terror of his fury.

But now, as the song echoed through the trees, an even darker realization clawed at her. That day... her father hadn’t just been angry.

He had been afraid.

Bella froze in place, her breath hitching as the dancing woman suddenly halted as well. Peering between the tangled trees, she spotted her, no longer twirling, no longer moving. Instead, the woman knelt on the damp earth, cradling something in her arms.

Bella’s stomach twisted. A skeleton.

The woman clutched the fragile remains as if they were something precious, her body trembling with silent grief before a wail tore from her lips, raw, mournful, and inhuman.

The sight sent a chill down Bella’s spine. There was something profoundly wrong about this figure, something that neither fit the world of the living nor the undead. She was neither human nor vampire.

She was something else.

A ghost.

Just then, the dancing lady’s head snapped upward with a sickening crack, the sound of splintering bone slicing through the silence. Her neck twisted at an impossible angle as if something had broken her from the inside out. Bella’s breath caught in her throat, her body locking in place, terror sinking its claws into her chest.

Then, the woman’s eyes found hers. Empty. Hollow. Wrong.

Bella felt the weight of that stare press against her, suffocating, as if unseen hands were wrapping around her throat. The woman’s lips parted, and from the depths of her ruined throat came a grotesque, gurgling sound, blood bubbling between every syllable.

"RUN."

The single cry crashed over Bella like a wave of ice, her stomach plummeting.

Her pulse slammed against her ribs. Her hands shook. Her knees nearly buckled.

Then, as if something inside her snapped, she did the only thing her body would allow—

She ran.

But before her feet could carry her far, a sudden, searing pain exploded at the back of her head. A sharp, merciless impact, like a hammer striking bone.

Her vision blurred. The world tilted.

Darkness rushed in, swallowing her whole.

She barely registered the sensation of falling, her body crumpling to the cold earth. A sickening warmth trickled down her scalp, the scent of iron filling her nose.

Blood.

"I told you... They’re dangerous!"

"There’s no other choice. Let’s bury them all."

It was the last thing she heard before everything faded into nothingness.