"Unlike here," Diana continued, her eyes glistening before she hastily wiped them, "back then we only had one caretaker."
Her voice steadied, but only barely.
"He was more like our father. Every morning, before sunrise, he would leave for Eryndor to gather food and livestock—to keep us healthy. He always tried to return before nine at night. Sometimes he succeeded. Sometimes he didn't."
"Why?" Dracula asked.
Diana blinked. "Sorry?"
"Why did he have to go that far?" Dracula pressed. "Why not grow and rear them here?"
"Sanguinastra's soil doesn't support life," Rebecca answered instinctively.
Dracula's gaze slid to her—empty, unreadable.
Rebecca froze, fear crawling up her spine as she covered her mouth.
"She's right," Diana said quickly. "No plant ever takes root here. No flowers. Without crops, there's no livestock. Even water is scarce."
Dracula turned forward again, silent.
"Continue," he said.
Diana swallowed.
"While he was gone, I took care of the younger children. One day, a boy named Charles joined us. He was... strange at first. Quiet. Watching everything. But over time, he found his place. He helped with the children."
Her hands trembled.
Then she stopped.
Screams echoed in her mind.
"The man clad in black priesthood," she whispered. "That sadistic smile... Elder Tharion."
Even our father was petrified by his presence. He told us to hide—told us to run through the tunnels. Charles wanted to stay behind. I was too scared to follow him."
Her voice cracked.
"I left him."
Tears slid down her face.
"I thought we were safe when I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. But instead of our father... instead of Charles... Tharion was waiting for us."
Her breathing grew shallow.
"I tried to stand against him. And he took it as a challenge."
Silence filled the room.
"He killed the children slowly. Tore their limbs apart. Cut them just enough to keep them alive. I begged him to stop."
Her fingers clenched.
"That's when I realized he was enjoying it."
Rebecca's eyes burned with tears.
"With one final gesture, he attacked me. But the children—barely alive—threw themselves in front of me. Their bodies were split apart."
Diana pressed a hand to her stomach.
"I was left with a gash... and the sound of their bodies hitting the floor."
Rebecca covered her mouth, tears spilling freely.
"Charles found us," Diana continued. "He broke down. His screams... they didn't sound human."
Her voice softened.
"He heard me breathing. I was too afraid to die."
Charles gave me his blood. And the blood of the others—to save me."
She looked down.
"The last thing I saw was him carrying me away... past the pale bodies of my brothers and sisters. Our father among them."
Dracula said nothing.
Above them, Varin listened from the roof. Outside, Lilith sat with the child, quietly reading.
"Crying won't change anything," Dracula finally said. "If I were you, I would dedicate my life to killing that man."
His voice was calm. Honest.
"I would."
"Charles tried," Rebecca whispered. "He died."
Dracula's eyes narrowed. "Was there no other way to gain power?"
"To be honest," Varin said casually as he appeared beside them, "drinking your blood is the best option."
Diana and Rebecca flinched.
"There's been a drought of powerful vampires for over two centuries," Varin continued. "Something is blocking growth. That's why Elders are considered A-tier."
He smiled faintly.
"I met Charles once. Gave him a droplet of my blood. It only raised him to C-tier."
Dracula exhaled slowly.
"It must have been difficult," he said.
Varin sniffed dramatically. "The toughest."
Diana lifted a comb and gently ran it through Dracula's hair.
Klack.
The comb shattered, fragments clattering to the floor.
Varin, Diana, and Rebecca froze.
"...This might take a while," Rebecca muttered.
"That's new," Diana said faintly.
"Oh my," Varin chimed in, far too amused.
"What happened?" Dracula asked.
"U-uh..." Diana hesitated, glancing at the broken pieces. "Have you ever heard of... moisturizer?"
Dracula turned toward her, confusion etched plainly across his face.
"You'd love it," she added with a forced smile.
Dracula slowly looked to Varin.
Varin grinned and gave a confident thumbs-up.
Moments later
Dracula sat on a slatted chair in a washroom, the steady sound of running water filling the space.
He glanced toward the stream.
Is that water from Earth? he wondered.
Diana entered, carrying a bag stuffed with combs and assorted bottles. Varin followed close behind.
Dracula immediately covered his nose.
"What is that... harsh smell?" he asked.
"What harsh smell?" Diana and Varin replied in perfect unison.