Chapter 16
2136words
That immense will, the entity calling itself the "Head of the House," did not immediately take action against me. He seemed to enjoy my current state, like a gourmet appreciating an appetizer with great interest before savoring the main course. The visual cage he had constructed still existed, with that perfect and cold face reflected on every reflective surface in the study. The sounds of Silas and Finn's impacts and roars echoed futilely beyond the invisible barrier, like a muted play with the sound turned off.
I curled up in the corner, my tears all dried up, leaving only a dry, stinging sensation. I slowly raised my head, facing those countless eyes gazing down upon all living beings, and spoke with a hoarse yet steady voice that surprised even myself.
"Before you... reclaim me, I want to know some things," I said.
This action clearly caught that being by surprise. Those faces in the mirrors, the eternal calmness in their eyes seemed to ripple slightly, almost imperceptibly, like a still pond disturbed by a grain of sand.
"Oh?" that voice echoed in my mind again, with a barely audible, twisted sense of pleasure, "My 'vessel,' before returning to its original form, has become curious about its own construction? Interesting. Speak then, let me satisfy your final curiosity, as a small diversion in this long wait."
"This 'fusion' you speak of, what exactly does it feel like? Will I keep my memories? Can I still... think?" I forced myself to ask these questions, each word feeling like chewing on shards of glass.
"Fusion is returning to the source. Like a drop of water returning to the ocean, it will still be water, but it will no longer be 'that drop.' Your memories, your thoughts, those petty emotions and creativity you take pride in, will all become part of me, like a new addition to my collection cabinet. You will 'see' the true universe, 'feel' the flow of time, but 'you' will cease to exist. This is supreme glory, something human souls have never been able to touch such magnificent truth." The voice explained calmly, as if describing the simplest law of physics.
These words sent chills down my spine, but also gave me leverage for negotiation.
"It sounds... complicated." I took a deep breath, suppressing the rising nausea inside me. "I need time to 'understand' it. I am a writer, I am accustomed to constructing everything with logic and imagination. Before I can fully comprehend the nature of this 'fusion' and 'accept' it from the bottom of my heart, forcing a fusion would only cause cracks in this 'vessel,' wouldn't it? A flawed collection item, I presume, would not satisfy you."
As soon as I finished speaking, the air in the study seemed to freeze. Silas and Finn's assault also stopped; they had clearly heard my almost insane bargaining.
After a long while, that voice sounded again, this time with a discernible thread of pleasure. "Interesting logic. You're using my pursuit of 'perfection' to buy yourself time. A clever, though utterly meaningless attempt."
"During this time," I seized the opportunity and immediately put forward my core condition, "you are not allowed to harm them." I pointed with my chin toward Silas and Finn outside the barrier, while silently reciting Julian's name in my heart. "They are 'guests' of this manor, and also part of how I observe this world. A good vessel, before being filled, always needs to look at the surrounding scenery. If they are harmed, my emotions will become unstable, which will also affect the quality of the 'vessel'."
The logic behind these words was fragile enough to collapse at the slightest touch, but it precisely scratched the itch of the "master's" inhuman will—that kind of arrogant absolute confidence that everything was under control.
He laughed. Although I couldn't hear the laughter, I could see from every reflected face that those perfect lips curled slightly upward, forming a cold and elegant curve.
"Agreed." The voice in my mind responded decisively. "I will give you time, my scribe. Time to understand, to struggle, to embrace all your tiny hopes and despairs. Go play with your pets, go see this fragile world you're so attached to. But remember, Nora Vince, this is not a choice, it's a stay of execution. When the time comes, whether you 'understand' or not, you will return. Refusal will only make this process... more painful. Because your essence, from the moment of your birth, was destined to become one with me."
As the words faded, the faces on all mirror surfaces in the study instantly disappeared, returning to their original reflections. The invisible barrier collapsed along with them. Silas and Finn, having pushed too hard, stumbled into the room.
"Nora!" Finn was the first to rush to me, carrying the scent of forest soil and a beast-like anxiety, wanting to touch me cautiously yet afraid of startling me.
Silas stood a few steps away, his crimson eyes fixed intently on me, his gaze mixing with fear, rage, and an emotion I had never seen before, something that could almost be called terror. That absolute power had clearly shaken the foundations of this ancient nobleman.
I looked at them, unable to hold on any longer, my vision darkened, and I completely lost consciousness.
The so-called "probation period" began. It was a torment more deadly than any direct threat. The family head's presence retreated from the visible parts of the estate back into the shadows, but he was everywhere. I could feel every floorboard beneath my feet, every crack in the wall, every thorn outside the window watching me with a silent, countdown-like gaze.
My relationship with the three non-human beings underwent intense yet subtle changes under this shadow of death.
On the second day after I woke up, Silas burst directly into my study. He had lost his usual elegance and playfulness, his face bearing an unquestionable resolve.
"Become my kind, Nora," he said straightforwardly, his voice low and hoarse, "This is the only way. Once you accept the embrace, your bloodline will be completely transformed by my power. You will no longer be the 'vessel' of the Vince family, but an 'immortal' of the Delacour family. He will lose all ownership over you."
I looked at him in shock, my heart racing wildly. "You mean... turn me into a vampire?"
"This is protection, not a curse." He stepped closer to me, trapping me between the desk and himself. "Do you think I want to share you? No, I despise every gaze that touches you, despise every existence that covets you, and especially despise this damned manor itself! But now, this is the only way to separate you from its will. You will gain eternal life, immense power, and... me. You will forever belong to me, rather than becoming a cold object."
His words were filled with irresistible possessiveness, those crimson eyes burning with maddening flames. This was a choice to replace the original shackles with stronger ones. I would transform from a "vessel" into his eternal "private property."
Before I could respond, that evening at dusk, Finn intercepted me at the edge of the forest by the manor. His amber eyes were filled with concern and sincerity.
"Leave this place, Nora." He didn't have Silas's aggressive demeanor, but his words were equally heavy. "Come with me. To the deepest part of the forest, my domain. There, the forces of nature are pure, powerful, capable of blocking out the will of the manor. There, he won't find you. We can live together, far away from all this."
"Leave?" I murmured. This word seemed both tempting and unrealistic to me.
"Yes, leave." Finn said urgently, "That vampire's proposal is poison; he will only turn you into another monster. But I am a guardian of life. In my forest, you can continue to be yourself, and I will protect you with my life. We'll never come back, letting this cursed manor rot in the dust of time along with its mad will."
His proposal represented rebirth, represented escape. But the cost was that I had to give up everything I was familiar with, give up my career, my past, and hide in a primitive world isolated from society, becoming a protected exile who could never return.
That night, I collapsed on the bed exhausted and quickly fell into a dream. In the dream, I saw Julian again. He was still standing in that vast, misty study, his handsome face filled with sadness.
"They have all given you their choices, Nora," he said softly, his voice carrying a sigh.
"And what about you, Julian?" I looked at his semi-transparent body, feeling a pang in my heart. "What choice do you have for me?"
He remained silent for a long time, so long that I thought he wouldn't answer. Then, he slowly raised his eyes, and in those wise gray eyes, a resolute light flickered.
"I cannot take you away, nor can I change your bloodline." he said, "But I can give you another kind of 'freedom.' My existence itself is a solidified piece of history belonging to the manor. If I choose to... dissipate, using all of my spiritual energy to strike at the core of that will, I might create a brief moment of absolute freedom for you. In that instant, the manor's laws would fail, and you might... be able to escape."
I was stunned. "Dissipate? What does that mean?"
"It means I will cease to exist," Julian's tone was calm, yet permeated with endless sorrow, "No reincarnation, no memories, completely returning to nothingness. But if this can buy you a moment of freedom, then for me, this bound, eternal tragedy would have a worthwhile ending."
This was the third choice. A choice that would exchange his death for a glimmer of hope for me. The heaviest, yet purest decision.
After waking up, I sat on the bed, the morning light streaming through the window, yet bringing no warmth. Silas's immortality, Finn's freedom, Julian's sacrifice. Three distinctly different paths lay before me, each leading to an unknown future, each meaning the complete abandonment of the people and possibilities on the other two paths.
Do I really have a choice? Or are these so-called "choices" merely toys tossed to me by the "Head of the Family" to while away my time? His words, "This is not a choice, but destiny," echo like a curse in my mind, making me feel a bone-deep sense of powerlessness. I feel like a chess piece placed on a board; whether I move left, right, or forward, I cannot escape the boundaries of this chessboard, nor can I change the fate of being manipulated by the player.
I cannot accept this. I am a person who makes a living by weaving stories and creating rules. I absolutely refuse to accept that my life is just a terrible horror story with an already written ending.
With this almost obsessive stubbornness, I locked myself in the study and began frantically searching through the ancient books and manuscripts I had previously collected about the history of the manor. Like a drowning person, I tried to grasp at a lifesaving straw in the vast sea of words. I read through the records of all the past female heads of the Vince family. Most of them were just as the family head had said - they either descended into madness or quietly passed away one day, as if completely absorbed by the manor.
Until I opened a yellowed diary written in elegant cursive. The owner of the diary was a woman named Elizabeth Vince, who lived more than two hundred years ago. Her records were full of explorations and struggles against the manor's secrets, and she seemed to face the same fate as mine. But the ending was completely different—she neither went insane nor died. The official records only stated that she "mysteriously disappeared."
I turned the pages one by one, my heart pounding. On the last page of the diary, after those frantic words describing her struggle with an "invisible will," I saw a line written in blood that had almost faded.
That sentence was like a lightning bolt, splitting all the fog in my mind.
"When you cannot win a game, don't choose the pieces," the bloody text wrote, with a wisdom that was both mad and resolute in its handwriting, "learn to rewrite the rules."
