VLAD: THE LADY OF THE LAKE
The woman stands on her knees as the heavy amount of wind whipped through her yukata. ’Please, don’t let her die. I’ll give you everything. Yes, if that’s what you want, just please spare her soul. Don’t let them lay a finger on this childe. I’m begging you, she’s the latter recipient. She’s not meant to die with them.’
Tears were streaming down her pale cheeks as the last moon of her night shone through her ashen mane. ‘No, please don’t. Let her be safe.’
She gasps as she run out of breath from weeping. The darkest skies seem to feel her repentance as the droplets of rain devours her icy-toned skin, making her insides shook with the taciturn gust.
The galloping of the horses is drawing near. Fear and willpower were battling themselves from her internal sane. The woman bows down from her knees as she stares up at the sky.
Time is slipping through her fingers.
Her eyes peered as the lantern shot directly at her sight. The General and his soldiers invade the space from her locality. As she remains silent, her inner praying for the child’s safety bombards the depth of her mind. General Ming finally steps down from his horse before striding towards the woman.
The General didn’t spoke. He pursues on approaching her spot in his unnerving physique. The woman neither moved, nor utters a single word as she watched the General drawing closer to her.
She turns her head on the other direction, ‘please.’ She begged once more.
General Ming sneered beneath his mask as he pulls out his katana, appreciating the dread that was etched on the woman’s façade. His other free hand grasp the woman’s hair roughly making her head bent uneasily. She stopped breathing, time suddenly stood still as she hears the sound of stream, inviting her to oblivion.
The last tear fell down from her cheeks as she unrelentingly stares on the other side.
The General pulls up his sword, and with that brief second—the woman smiled—her last words echoes in the air, as the wind howls and oozes.
‘Thank you.’ she breathed.
Within a blink of an eye, the katana slices her head out of her body as blood enthused out of her veins. The woman’s body fell of the ground flaccidly. But the General held the severed head. Admiring his work as his eyes turns the head to examine the cleanest cut.
‘Yuuo, make the best cup out of her skull.’ His deep voice nonchalantly spoke as one of his men took the head and puts it in inside of the sack.
The General turns around, leaving the headless body near the stream. He rode off his horse before he and his soldiers disperse from the site.
Blood washed down the soil. The yukata was now drenched with the remains of flesh as the rain wails out once more. The woman didn’t have a proper burial, nor mourned—for the people that recognizes her existence were no longer stepping their feet on the ground.
The Beautiful Man watched silently from the distance. His face remains calm and serene, as if nothing brutal had just happened. He was sitting down on one of the tree’s branches, protecting himself and his little companion out of the downpour.
His long eyelashes shifted from the scene back on the infant on his arms that started bawling recently. The beautiful man’s sleek fingers brushed the baby’s soft cheeks, as it stares right back at him with its innocent eyes.
‘How troublesome,’ He murmurs.
‘She didn’t even name you yet.’