The Curse Of A Stranger's Gift 34 Alone

Zheira's hands were clasped against the red tall-gate of theirs. She hadn't realized how far she'd run 'till she found herself in Angleton. Her legs were sore and her veins were tensed but it was nothing to the tears trickling seamlessly from the corner of her bloodshot eyes. The rage from earlier was starting to ebb away, replaced by the longing she had long been restricting herself to feel. It felt as if sharp pins were piercing her heart as she stared at the two-story house.

She pushed the gate. In an instant, a small four-years-old girl ran with a delighted squeak in the front lawn. A skinny man was running behind him.

"You can't run away from me, Zheira!" Robert laughed. His voice seemed distant. It was enough to freeze Zheira on the spot.

The five-year-old Zheira turned, put her hands above her head, and stuck her tongue out. "You can't catch me, you're slow." Her voice was so soft and innocent. Zheira could only raise her hand, wis.h.i.+ng to get a hold of her younger self.

"Oh, you're dead meat!" Robert sneered with a nasty grin. It didn't take long for him to grab the young girl's wrist and put her in his lap. "Now, you're really dead," he said with a wide smile, raising her hands while moving his fingers. The young child thrashed and bellowed, but Robert already attacked her with a savage tickling.

"Now, now, Robert! You're under arrest!" Melinda came running, wearing an ap.r.o.n with b.u.t.terflies in it. In her right hand was a small frying pan.

Robert looked at her with a wide eye. He gave the young girl a knowing look before he yelled, "Run!" Then their chase began.

A light-hearted laugh issued from Zheira's throat while looking at their smiling faces. She wiped her tears and forced a smile. She's afraid that everything she'd shared with her adoptive family would stay as memory.

With a deep breath, she forced herself to let go of the past. The fleeting image of them playing on the front lawn vanished. A pain crippled inside her but she knew lingering with those memories would only result in another pain. All she has to do was to accept that she would never feel their affection again. At least, not the same way before.

"If only..."

Her footsteps echoed as she made her way inside. For some reason, the back of her neck pickled. There's a sense of foreboding dancing around the air.

Clenching her fist, she murmured, "Contain yourself, Zheira! You must brace yourself. The worst is yet to come." The image of her adoptive parent's angry faces doomed in her. Admittedly, she's afraid to face them, she feared they would not welcome her, but she hoped that they would find affection—even just a little, in the depth of their heart.

Counting her steps had been her only distraction to the sadness encrypted in her soul. As he faced their bra.s.s door, she braced before knocking gently to it. A superficial sound rang loudly with the thickness of silence she'd been observing to be prevalent the moment she stepped foot at the village of Angleton.

Her brows draw together as she realize the door was open. She entered the premises her heart hammering loudly. Melinda and Robert wasn't the type to leave their doors open. Confusion aroused inside of her when darkness greeted her. She swallowed hard, stretching her hands and patting the rough walls to find the switch. It took her, at least, three stumbling before she could turn the light's switch.

The abrupt light momentarily blinded her. She opened her eyes for a fraction, only to see the wreckage of the house. Her hands automatically covered her mouth in an attempt to silence the impending scream.

The hall was in a total mess. Dried blood was staining the heavily-tiled ground. The brown couches were lying flat to the ground with the broken T.V. She ran upstairs, its handrails have bloodstained as well, but what made her stop was her nanny's dead body. Her eyes were wide open while her hands were stiff on its side. There's also a wound in her neck. Zheira traced the small hole, and smelled the vampire's stink on it. She gritted her teeth. Seemed like someone had come to visit her family first.

"I—I'm sorry, nanny! For dragging you in this mess!" Her voice was raspy. She wiped another series of tears from her cheeks. She'd been crying for a while now, yet, her tears still weren't backing down. It kept flowing like an idiot. She gave her one last glance before going to her adoptive parent's room.

Zheira steadied herself as she turned the doork.n.o.b. She pushed the door slowly, wis.h.i.+ng for her parents to be there, but her heart sank when the room was empty. Unlike the hall, there wasn't any mess inside their room. The white sheets of their king-size bed were neatly folded, as well as the pillows.

Where were Robert and Melinda? Have they gone for good? But why was her nanny lying lifeless in the staircase? Something's fishy in this affair. She's about to turn when a parchment caught her eyes. It was crumpled beside a small lamp. Without thinking, she flattened it, revealing a thin slant-penmans.h.i.+p. What's odd was the letters were bending slightly, as though the writer had been shaking while writing it.

Zheira,

     I and your dad will be staying in Majorca for good. Don't look for us as you'll only inflict pain on our side. I hate you for hurting your father. All those wasteful years of taking care of you, and you gave the favor by attempting to murder my husband. I, no longer consider you as my child. You're just another ent.i.ty that ruined my life. If ever you read this, I wish nothing but your death...

Melinda

Her knees wobbled, making her collapse to the bed. The parchment was then crumpled in her hand. She couldn't believe her adoptive mother could write such words, and for her to wish Zheira's death felt like death itself. It's worst than she'd expected.

"Wh—why? Why do I have to... to suffer this never-ending pain." She clenched her fist in the hem of her s.h.i.+rt. "I can't take this any longer!" she yelled, attempting to seize the weight inside her.

"Then end your misery."

Zheira's tears stopped flowing as her body froze. The soft, feathery voice she'd heard was clearly from the former king. It came from downstairs. She sprinted towards the hall. She's got a bone to pick with that b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Somehow, there's a faint whisper telling her that the king had prepared a sketchy scheme. That might have explained the wreck of this house. She just hopes that her adoptive parents were really in Majorca when the king came.

"Where are you?" she bellowed when the king's scarred face wasn't anywhere near the hall.

"My, my! You're really something, Zheira. I never have thought that you possess such a destructive ability. No doubt, you are your mother's daughter. It's so sad you didn't have the privilege to experience her affection. It's been taken away from you."

Zheira's brow arched. "Come out. Stop hiding like an idiot." She gritted her teeth, a futile attempt to stop her emotion to rule again. She has learned her lesson; nothing would come out good when rationality subsided.

The king laughed. It was even worst than his screams; it was void itself. "Calm down."

She bent and raised her clenched fist in front of her and eyed every direction of the hall.

"Ooh, defensive stunt!"

Zheira groaned when a swish so fast blurred in her irises. She touched her waist when she felt something pierced through it. A sticky red-liquid was flowing from a deep wound wherein a shard gla.s.s was piercing. She bit her lips as a wave of pain crawl from it.

Now it made her realized how mortality was still embracing her. Her wounds hadn't healed yet. Evidence that proves she's still a human besides the inhuman attributes she has.

"My bad! I thought you were ready. I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he apologized while cackling.

"You're not fair. I can't see you." Zheira glared to nothingness, the king was still nowhere to be seen.

"But life is no fair, Zheira. Hasn't it show you enough evidence to believe that, or you still haven't deciphered it?"

"I already did."

"Really? Then let me tell you one more thing. My son has no feelings for you. I doubt he's got any emotional at all. It was he's guilt with all the vampires who died for him that urged him to save you."

Zheira's heart constricted at the affirmation of everything she had been speculating, and it pains her more than ever.

"And because of that, you are indebted to me, you filthy mortal!" the king added, his voice became thicker.

A strong gust of wind pushed through the left-wing of the mansion, and the king popped in thin air. His long, sharp nails aimed at Zheira's neck. She turned her head slightly, and with a swift movement, she locked the king's shoulder with her bare hand. Then she threw him to the ground. The tiles broke at the impact, but the king didn't even wince. His eyes were coldly staring at Zheira who's relentlessly kicking his stomach, tears streaming from her eyes.

"Die, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" She tried another kick but the king's eyes flickered. A red strings linked around her body. She writhed to the ground as violent sparks crept inside her.

The king stood while patting the dirt away from his thick cloak. He looked down at Zheira. "If you want me dead, you'll need more strength than that." He grabbed her chain. "Now you'll pay your debt with your life."