4. Nightmare

Deep, deep, deep, inside the ground of Black Sky Estate, a frail little boy lay curled up on a big boulder that was carved out from the rock on which the estate foundation was built.

The coldness of the dungeon had long since seeped into his body. Having lost his unique hybrid physiology, his weak body shivered uncontrollably in a futile attempt to stay warm. His sore muscles and stiff joints scream for relief, but he dares not move from where he is.

Apart from the fact that the darkness around him is thick and suffocating, making it seem as if his face is tightly wrapped with a heavy blanket. The ground beneath him is paved with jagged stones. He found that out the hard way when the stones pierced deeply into his feet the first time he carelessly tried to stand up.

The memory of what ensued after he was injured and began to bleed flashes through his mind.

"No!" His tiny voice croaks when an idea occurs to him almost simultaneously.

The thought of going through that again makes his body spasm with fear.

'No, I cannot do that. Even mother will not approve.' He tries reasoning himself out of the fearful idea.

'It is disgusting to drink from animals! Especially rats! You are of noble birth, Milan not a lowly vampire!' Her normally gentle voice once sternly chastised him.

'But things are different now.' He reasons with himself again.

He has no other choice this time. The situation he is in now is different from the time he used rats to show his cousins who hadn't gotten their fangs how vampires feed.

His mother wants him to survive this anguish. It was as if she knew what awaited him when she fought her own father to stop him from taking her son away. Unfortunately, she was no match for his grandfather, Vladimir Kuznetsov. The Vampire King was simply too powerful. In his opinion, his grandfather is the most powerful in the whole wide world.

'Be strong, Milan! Survive! You have to survive until mother can come to find you!' The parting words she screamed to him as she was forcefully held down while his grandfather's men dragged him away to live with his father.

'Father!' A word he relates to bad men

Fathers are very mean and hateful.

His mother's father was mean to her. His cousin's father, Uncle Igor, was also mean. He once overheard his mother calling him a mean son of a bitch. As for his father?

His father is the meanest of them all. He would never forget the hard eyes that looked down at him with hatred and the cold words thrown at him the first time they met. He especially can never ever forget how he always hurts him to extract his venom. His jaw still hurts so badly.

'I have to survive. I have to do everything possible to run away.'

Although he's only five years old, he knows there's no way he can run away when he's this weak and can barely stand. He has lost all sense of time and can't remember the last time he had food and water. He only knows it was before his grandfather sent him away. At breakfast with his mother and great aunt, Alina.

In here, his hateful father makes sure they feed him just enough blood to keep him alive since they can't harvest his venom if he's dead. If there's going to be any hope of seeing his mother again, then he has to escape from his dreadful father. To be able to escape, he needs to be physically strong, and to be physically strong, he needs blood—lots and lots of it.

Since he now knows where and how he would get blood, he slowly pushes himself into a sitting position before going on his hands and knees. The moment he attempts to stand, he feels lightheaded and immediately stops moving, taking quick, shallow breaths out of exhaustion. After some seconds that he feels he's ready to continue moving, he tries again and takes his first step.

He, however, immediately goes back to sitting position when his frail body begins to tremble. It's obvious these little efforts are too taxing for his weak body, but he refuses to give up. He would shuffle on his bum if that is what it would take to get what he needs.

Although he seems determined in his actions, his tense muscles and trembling body betray his true emotions. The only source of blood available to him are the 'monsters', as he now refers to them since the day they attacked him.

Up until that day, he never knew rats could be that enormous and aggressive. He also didn't know they move in packs. Would they have gnawed him to death if the guard hadn't shone light into his cell? He wonders but immediately shakes his head to clear his mind of the thought. Although he's scared, he knows he has to be brave to be able to survive.

'Think about what you will get from them, not how they hurt you before. This won't be like the last time.' He promises himself.

He already has everything planned out in his mind.

He would gently lower himself to the ground when he arrive at the edge of the boulder to minimize the injuries the sharp rocks on the ground would inflict on his feet. After all, all they need to come rushing at him is a whiff of his blood, and all he needs is to feed on two or three of them to be strong enough to kill them all and be able to run away.

He doesn't know he's dragging himself into a trap until the place beneath him that he thought was rock suddenly gives way, and he finds himself falling.

"Aaa-ahh!..." He cries out in agony when the sharp stones brutally pierce and slash his legs, thighs, and buttocks.

It hurts so bad, but knowing the guards might hear him and how fast the rats moved the last time, he quickly puts his emotions aside and clamps his mouth shut. His tears fall as he whimpers and feels around in the dark for a flat surface that he can at least be comfortable on. He can't imagine fighting those monsters with jagged stones digging into him.

His movement becomes frantic when he starts hearing squeaks and heavy scurrying feet coming fast at him.

"Oh, no! No! No! No! No!..." He cries. He's not ready. He hasn't found a comfortable place yet and his injuries hurt so bad but there's nothing he can do to stall them. It's now or never.

One after the other, their beady eyes that glow like lanterns in the darkness begin to appear.

No, he can't remain sitting. He should stand; otherwise, they will easily overpower him. He thinks as he forcefully pushes himself up with his back pressed to the boulder. He gnashes his teeth as the jagged stones pierce his palms but he bears it.

His mother's words come to mind again and he begins to say it out loud to remind himself how important survival is,

"Survive, Milan. Be strong. You have to survive until– ahhhh!..." He can't help but end his chants with a scream when one jumps on his back and the rest soon follow, their claws and teeth savagely digging and tearing at his skin.

Hysterically, he screams and reaches behind him to grab the one on his back, and then flings it away before remembering his real purpose of attracting them. Since they're literally crawling all over him, he grabs another one and quickly sinks his fangs into it.

The rat stinks of decay, but he doesn't allow that to deter him. The moment his fangs latch onto it, it squeaks and struggles violently to get free, but soon becomes paralyzed when his venom enters its bloodstream. Then he feeds. As the warm blood gushes into his mouth, his body responds with a primal hunger, unleashing a feeding frenzy within himself. He suck and drinks, squeezing the rat's body as if milking it of its last drop of blood.

In no time, he chucks the dead rat aside and yanks another one off him, tearing its head cleanly off its neck before bringing the body spurting blood close to his mouth. Then he begins to feel warmth as it spreads through his chilled body, melting his fatigue away. As his limbs and organs become revitalized, his strength and vitality surge back. His injuries begin to heal. His senses amplify, making his red eyes gleam in the dungeon's pitch blackness.

With a speed even his kind would consider supernatural, the little hybrid fights for survival. His body trembles with rage as his claws swipe wildly, tearing through fur and flesh. The monster rats, sensing that the hunter has now become the prey, squeak and try to scurry away, but he's relentless. Driven by hunger and desperation, he kills and kills and kills until there's only one left in his grasp.

"Let go!..." A voice suddenly booms out of nowhere as he sinks his fangs into it. Its echo reverberates all around him, making him shiver with fear.

It is the evil man's voice. Why did he have to show up right now when he hasn't had the chance to escape? Why!? Oh, why!?

"Let go of him, you blood-sucking bat!" He screams again

'Him!?... What is he talking about? Isn't he holding a rat?' the boy wonders as he extracts his fangs from where it was buried inside the creature's body.

He realises then, to his surprise that he is no longer a little boy. He has suddenly grown to be a man, and it isn't a rat he just fed on but his eldest half-brother. His father's pride and joy. The future Alpha of Black Sky Pack. No wonder the blood tastes so good. His enemy's blood.

He feels a rush of pure ecstasy right then. How wonderful! One of his torturers delivered right into his hands. How did he get so lucky?

A cold laugh erupts from the pit of his belly, baring his fangs that are still slick with blood. He looks at the face of his already paralyzed brother and laughs again when he sees the stark terror in his eyes. He's right to be afraid since his life is coming to an end soon.

His lifelong dream is coming true. One by one, he will kill them until the house of Evan Black and Vladimir Kuznetsov, his mother and father's family, becomes desolate and overrun with shadows and silence.

He looks towards his father again

"You want me to let him go?"

"You heard me right. Let him go right now, you no-good bastard! Abomination!"

'Bastard!' 'Abomination!' He hates those words.

Immediately, crimson veins crisscross around his eyes as his face twists in a snarl

"Make me!" He challenges before lowering his head to move in for the kill.