Her Dark Bloodline

THE COFFIN

She woke inside a coffin.

For several seconds, she didn't understand where she was.

There was only darkness.

Thick, suffocating darkness.

She tried to move, but her body felt strangely heavy. Her arms barely responded, and when she attempted to lift her head, something cold and rough brushed against her face.

Cobwebs.

They clung to her eyelashes and cheeks, crawling across her skin like thin fingers.

She gasped.

Her lungs burned as she struggled for air.

"Where... am I?"

Her voice came out as a weak whisper.

She raised both hands and pushed against the wooden surface above her.

Nothing.

She pushed harder.

The coffin didn't move.

Panic exploded inside her chest.

"No."

She slammed her palms against the lid.

"Help!"

Her voice echoed faintly inside the narrow wooden box.

She couldn't remember how she had gotten there.

She couldn't remember anything.

Not her name.

Not where she lived.

Not how old she was.

Nothing.

She tried again, pounding against the coffin until pain shot through her hands.

"HELP ME!"

Silence.

Then—

Footsteps.

Her body froze.

Someone was outside.

Slow footsteps approached from somewhere beyond the coffin.

Creak.

Creak.

Creak.

The sound of shoes pressing against an old wooden floor echoed through the darkness.

She held her breath.

Another set of footsteps followed.

Then another.

There were people surrounding her.

Her heart began beating violently.

"Is she awake?"

A woman's voice.

The words were barely above a whisper, but they reached her clearly.

Another voice answered.

"Wait."

Silence.

Then a man spoke.

"Open it."

The coffin lid suddenly moved.

A thin line of pale light appeared above her.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

The lid was pulled back completely.

Cold air rushed over her face.

She blinked repeatedly, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness.

Shapes stood above her.

Several people.

They wore long, dark robes.

Their faces were partially hidden beneath black hoods.

She stared at them in confusion.

"Who are you?"

Nobody answered.

A woman stepped closer.

Her face was old, pale, and expressionless.

She looked down at the girl inside the coffin.

Then she smiled.

"Oh, finally."

The words sent a strange chill through the room.

"The day has come."

The girl slowly sat up.

"The day?"

The old woman nodded.

"The day the ritual will finally be completed."

"What ritual?"

The woman didn't answer immediately.

Instead, she looked toward the others.

"She's awake."

A murmur passed through the room.

Someone whispered,

"After all these years..."

Another voice replied,

"The bloodline must end tonight."

The girl's stomach twisted.

"Bloodline?"

She climbed out of the coffin, her legs trembling beneath her.

She looked around.

The room appeared ancient.

Stone walls.

Broken candles.

Dust-covered statues.

Old symbols had been carved into the floor, forming a large circle around the coffin.

And beneath her feet was something that looked like dried blood.

She stumbled backward.

"What is this place?"

The old woman stepped toward her.

"You don't remember?"

The girl shook her head.

"No."

The woman studied her face.

For the first time, something like fear appeared in her eyes.

"Interesting."

"What?"

"You truly remember nothing."

The girl stared at her.

"Tell me who I am."

The room fell silent.

The old woman smiled again.

"You are the last daughter of the bloodline."

"Which bloodline?"

The woman leaned closer.

"The one that should never have existed."

A cold wind suddenly swept through the chamber.

Every candle went out.

Darkness swallowed them again.

The girl heard several people gasp.

Then—

A whisper came from somewhere behind her.

"She's here."

She turned sharply.

There was nobody there.

"What was that?"

No one answered.

The old woman's face had gone pale.

"Begin the ritual."

The robed figures moved.

They surrounded her.

The girl backed away.

"No."

One of them grabbed her wrist.

She screamed and tried to pull free.

"Let me go!"

Another person seized her other arm.

"No!"

She fought desperately.

But then something happened.

The moment their hands touched her skin, a strange burning sensation traveled through her veins.

She cried out.

Her eyes widened.

Something beneath her skin began to glow.

A dark red light.

The people holding her immediately released her.

They stumbled backward.

"What...?"

The old woman stared at the girl's hands.

"Impossible."

The girl looked down.

Dark veins were spreading across her wrists.

Her heart pounded.

"What is happening to me?"

Nobody answered.

The old woman whispered something that sounded almost like a prayer.

"The blood has awakened."

The girl shook her head.

"No..."

She suddenly heard another voice.

Not from the room.

Inside her head.

A deep male voice.

Cold.

Calm.

And strangely familiar.

Run.

Her breathing stopped.

The voice spoke again.

Run before they remember who you belong to.

She looked around frantically.

"Who said that?"

Everyone stared at her.

The old woman stepped backward.

"What did you hear?"

The girl said nothing.

Because the voice whispered one final sentence inside her mind.

And whatever happens...

A pause.

Do not let them perform the ritual.

Her eyes widened.

For the first time since waking inside the coffin, she understood one thing.

The people surrounding her weren't trying to save her.

They were afraid of her.

And whatever was inside her blood...

They were willing to kill her to destroy it.

The old woman raised her hand.

"Begin."

The symbols beneath the girl's feet suddenly ignited.

And somewhere far away, beneath the ruins of an ancient castle, something that had been sleeping for centuries...

Opened its eyes.

He had felt her.

The last blood of his enemy.

The girl they had buried alive.

The girl who was never supposed to wake.

But she had.

And now...

The bloodline had begun again.