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Chapter 2

The farther into Drakov Hollow I went, the farther I wanted to get from the journal my father left me. It curled around like a thick mist fog shroud, as if the town itself were trying to choke the life out of anyone stupid enough to step within its boundaries. Ancient houses loomed above like sentinels, twisted by stuffy, gothic rooftops that reached into the night like jagged teeth. But something wrong was in the air there, heavy and choky, like it had drunk in something far older and darker than I ever could.

Cobblestones echoed my footfalls like ringing in the very deathly silence. My fingers were itching against the hilt of the knife I'd secreted beneath my cloak, a poor enough consolation for a place like this. I had no idea at all of what I was about to face. Instincts screamed at me that I had gone too far into this place, or it was way deadlier than I had ever anticipated.

I just couldn't turn back, though.

I had been on the lookout for some answers; ten years of constant wondering, sleepless nights haunted with mystery about my parents' death led me here. Somewhere in that accursed town was the truth-my father had tried to seek it but never returned; and here I came to finish what he started.

But with every passing minute, the weight of my guilt was pricked tighter into my chest.

There was a shiver down my spine, and I slowed up. Now it was stronger-this strange, uneasy feeling that someone watched me. I looked around-just fog doesn't let you see more than a few feet ahead; the street was empty, but I could feel it as if eyes were hidden in darkness and glued to every one of my steps.

My heart is pounding against my chest as I pick a hurry. And this place, it seemed alive in ways I was to put in words - like shadows almost waiting to pounce. I shouldn't be here. Something feels very off.

Just when I was crossing over, I remembered a flutter of movement out of the corner of my eye that arrested me in my tracks. I turned to scan the misty streets; my breathing is short.

Nothing.

But tension was heavy in the air. It was like I had stopped being lonely; the town finally noticed me. My fingers were tightening over the blade. Maybe I could get out of it, but the more forward it pressed, the worse it seemed to get.

And into this fog, darkly formed figures stepped.

My heartbeat was pounding on my chest. I considered them to be mist cutouts, come to life by my vivid imagination. But they keep getting closer and closer until a sickening jolt told me they were real: hooded figures that moved fast, noiselessly, and closed in on me.

Vampires.

My breath caught in my throat. I had heard whispers about Drakov Hollow, rumors of what lurked here. But seeing them - pale, otherworldly, eyes glowing faintly in moonlight - was far worse than I would ever have imagined.

He stood forward, tall among his brethren, and though his hood obscured most of his face, I could catch a glimpse of sharp fangs as he spoke.

A man, he said, his voice smooth but dripping with contempt. "You have erred seriously in coming into our lands.".

I swallowed hard. My mouth was dry. I didn't know what to say, how to explain being there without sounding a complete fool. There never was any excuse for what I did. I walked into their world and into their domain without ever knowing the actual gravity of my actions.

I stuttered, trying to hold my ground. "I - I didn't mean to trespass," I said. "I'm just looking for answers.".

In the dim light, he was grinning darkly at me, flashing his sharp teeth. "Answers? Not here, human. All you've sealed is your fate.".

My stomach twisted into a knot. I took a step back, but the group moved closer, circling me like wolves closing in on their prey. There was no escape.

Another vampire came out, his face partly under his cloak. He sneered. "She doesn't know the rules, does she? Humans aren't allowed here. You shouldn't have crossed into our land.".

I had been lying there, trying to relax, think clearly about my previous life and so on, but soon, panic took over. The journal hadn't prepared me for this. No mention of what I was facing now--no way out of the situation I found myself in.

"I didn't know," I said hastily. "Please, I'll leave. I won't come back again."

The tall vampire tilted his head, considering me for a moment before his cruel smile broke across his face. "Oh, you'll leave, alright. But not in the way you hope."

Before I could even react, one of them lunged forward, faster than my eyes could track. His hand closed around my arm like a vice, cold and impossibly strong. I tried to yank away, but his grip was like iron.

Let go! I yelled, pounding my chest. My knife was of no use in my hand, but I raised it anyway, trying to at least raise a little defense. He laughed at that, as if he found my wretched effort to be highly amusing. "The king will decide what to do with you, trespasser. And believe me, he's not known for his mercy, The king. The name made me shiver. I heard they would say that the vampire king ruled over this abandoned place, and I had never heard of this fellow-not one thing except rumors, half-told stories whispered in afraid tones. The vampires dragged me through the fog. My feet barely touched the ground as I fought against them. In my mind, I ran with desperate pleas, futile fighting, and a desperate hope to change what seemed to be my fate: they were taking me to him, the king of Drakov Hollow. As they hauled me deeper into town, the fog parted just enough for me to make out something looming ahead, something looming grand and half-hidden in mist, looming over the rest of town like some kind of shadow. The castle. And inside was the head vampire king, who was to say whether to save me or end me.

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