Case Of Vanitas

I die in the basement after being burned by acid. My family doesn't recognize me, and they don't call the cops. My mother picks up the scalpel that hasn't been used in years and debones me. My father excitedly mixes my skeleton with concrete and turns me into an exquisite statue. My sister uses the sculpture she's made out of my flesh and portrays herself as a genius sculptor whom everyone admires. Later, the sculpture is shattered, revealing half a broken finger inside. That's when everyone panics.

"Evelyn Vane. You conspired with the Fallen. You tried to murder Tania Swann, future Lady of the Nightfall Court. Today, your blood wakes the Blood Mirror. We will rip out your memories. We will seal your fate." In the ancient catacombs, the Blood Mirror cast a dark red halo in the candlelight. My former fated mate lounged on his black velvet throne. He was Valerius Cross, the noble Lord of the Nightfall Court. Those eyes used to look at me with love. Now, they held only disgust. "The Blood Mirror will show every betrayal you've committed against this Court. Our entire kind will see the monster hiding under that pretty skin!" Tania clung softly to Valerius's broad chest. She traced lazy circles on his skin. A sweet, smug smile played on her lips. She was so sure the mirror would condemn me tonight. She was so sure I'd burn to ashes. The rune-carved silver chains bit deep into my flesh. Black smoke hissed from my burns. Even so, I spoke. My voice was broken. "Valerius, are you sure about this? Do you really want my blood to show you my memories? Once it starts... none of you can turn back."

In the midst of the darkness of my soul, I have found Chiara Bianchi, a withered flower. I am Wolfgang Krüger, a cruel and heartless man. Seeking revenge, I kidnap Chiara, determined to make her suffer as her uncle has made my family suffer. But Chiara is much more than a defenseless victim. I discover that her beauty hides a deep pain, and her silence tells me stories I could never imagine. Chiara is mute, trapped in a world where words cannot escape her lips. The torture I had planned for her turns into a dangerous game, an internal struggle that I cannot control. Every day, I find myself watering her withered garden, wishing to bring life back to her face and challenging my own cruel instincts.

I fought my sister, Anna, for two lifetimes to become the Donna. In my first life, I got what I wanted. I became Lorenzo's woman. People said he loved me as if I were the air in his lungs. When he learned that I loved to dance, he bought an entire ballet company to keep me onstage. Then he broke my legs. He confined me to a wheelchair and displayed me like an ornament. One day, he brushed his fingers across my face and finally told me the truth. "I've seen enough dancing," he said. "And the one I truly love was never you." I died in that room, swallowed by despair. In my second life, I stepped aside and gave the Donna's seat to Anna. "You go," I told her. "The one Lorenzo really loves is you." I believed that choice would save us. I believed Anna would have the happy ending I never did. Five years later, they sent her back. Her legs were intact this time, but she couldn’t move them either. Lorenzo no longer treated her as a person. He had turned her into a ballerina statue, encased in plaster and posed at what he called her most beautiful moment, frozen in place. His men delivered the message without a trace of feeling. "He got tired of watching the younger sister dance," they said. "So he preserved her at her most beautiful." When I opened my eyes again, I found myself in my third life. Once more, the Don's men delivered a ballet invitation. Anna and I stared at it. The same question burned in both of us. If neither of us was the one he loved, then who was Lorenzo really watching?

I was a sketch artist acting for the police. On a secret mission, I was discovered by a murderer. My eyes were gouged out, and my body was dismembered, unceremoniously dumped in a garbage bin. On the brink of death, I called my boyfriend, a criminal investigator. However, he hung up on me because he was busy accompanying his first love to a prenatal checkup. A few days later, he received a painting that was a vital clue to finding the murderer, but he thought I was playing tricks on him. In his anger, he tore that portrait to shreds. After he found out the truth, he spent the whole night searching through the garbage to piece it back together.

Hannah was a troubled soul, her past horrors have molded her into a sad, melancholic girl. She has been through a lot of painful stuff that she decided to end her life. As she lay down a bathtub filled with her blood, she did not realize that her death was just the beginning of her journey. A series of mysterious occurrences take place after her death. It all starts with her step-brother Matthew's discovery of a letter from Hannah. Her vengeful spirit seems to live on to haunt those who have wronged her. Devon the love of her life, Cassidy her best friend who betrayed her, her mother Lucy who bore Hannah with her affair with Garret, and Brandon Johnson her dad who has kept a dark secret involving Hannah. One by one, page by page of each letter the truth unfolds and her hauntings may not be the real horror in this story. This is not just a horror story but a twisted love story that transcends life and death.