Paradox V Virus [Twins' Legend: Bloodlust/One]

Rena’s POV

As mid-December drapes its chilled veil over Nadia, the small town begins to stir echoes of the hometown I consciously abandoned. In the heart of winter, an old saying comes to mind—like a hushed secret passed by the icy winds: the calm before the storm. In the life I’ve led, this isn’t merely a tired cliché; it is an ominous prelude to an inescapable reality.

In my psychology class, you can feel the anticipation for winter break in the air. With only two weeks of classes left in the semester, the strain of final projects and exams is mounting.

Sitting at my desk, I watch the snowflakes drift down the window, a peaceful calm enveloping me.

“The way it falls... it’s like time itself is standing still,” I murmur, barely above a whisper, afraid to breach the sacred silence.

I let out a heavy sigh and murmur, “Even after all this time, I can barely remember my sister. She’s like a shadow with answers I can’t quite grasp, taunting me.” There’s a hint of desperation in my voice, but I’m resolved. “I won’t give up. She’s out there, and I’m going to find the truth behind this silence.” My quiet words form a determined promise to myself that I won’t be stopped.

The professor’s words fell on deaf ears; the students remained distracted until the bell rang, and then everyone quickly left with a collective sigh.

I linger in the classroom, savoring the silence before I eventually leave.

Adjusting to my new surroundings and getting to know other students has been a gradual process. College life can be complex, and even though I’m making headway, I still feel somewhat out of place among the humans.

What the heck am I saying? No, scratch that—I still am human.

My mind drifts into the depths of my past, reflecting on the life I once shared with my family. Life doesn’t always go as planned. Every choice we make in life sends ripples into the future, shaping our destiny. That choice shaped who I am today, and I have to accept that. A choice that was forced upon me.

Accepting the harsh truth can be a bitter pill to swallow. My family’s life was significantly impacted by one decision.

My mother’s death left a lasting pain, but my hope of finding my sister remains unshaken. I’m optimistic about the future despite my inability to undo the past. Finding my sister is my priority and I’ll do whatever it takes. I owe it to my mother to never give up, despite our uncertain relationship. She left me with a million questions and no answers.

Why didn’t she leave? What did she see in him? What secrets were she and father keeping from us?

The soles of my shoes tapped a steady rhythm against the concrete as I trudged back to my dorm room. Shadows danced along the sidewalk, mirroring my lonely stroll. With each step, a wave of recollection washed over me—the vibrant laughter of my sisters echoed in my ears and the warmth of my mother’s embrace enveloped me.

My mother often regaled my sister and me with stories about how she met my father over twenty-three years ago. Her stories echoed classic romances, reminiscent of storybook endings where the boy wins over the girl’s heart, or the girl discovers her soulmate. Yet, woven into their story was the thread of adversity.

My mother recounted with a distant look of nostalgia in her eyes, “It was as if nothing else in the world mattered.” She paused, lost for a moment in the memory. “It was a beautiful moment, one that will forever be etched in my memory.”

As time went on, my parents’ love grew stronger, and on a chilly November night, my mother brought me and my twin sister, Rachel, into the world—a world of lies and secrets. We were different from other families. After our birth, my mom pleaded with my dad to reveal the truth to their relatives.

He did, and soon, all his relatives knew about us. But that revelation got us banned from the Florea coven. My grandfather has held a grudge against my dad ever since for choosing marriage and kids over an arranged match, especially for a human.

My mother was disowned by her family when they discovered she had twin half-vampires with a Moroi husband. I don’t hold it against them; after all, they’re only human and feared for her safety. To them, vampires were mere myths, yet we embody the reality and the risks that come with it.

This led to my father’s downfall. He became a shadow of his former self, overwhelmed by despair until nothing remained.

Stepping into my dorm lounge, the absence of my usually bustling roommates became starkly evident. Alone in the space we shared, the walls seemed to echo with the ghosts of laughter and late-night whispers. I felt an odd mix of freedom and loneliness, the heavy silence filling the room like an unwelcome visitor.

With a sigh, I muttered to myself, “Seriously, it’s a mess in here!” My gaze flitted to the cardboard city rising in the living room--a testament to the transient life we led.

With a tinge of bitterness flavoring my thoughts, I made my way toward my room. The act of closing the door behind me felt momentous, as if it signaled the end of one chapter of my life and the silent beginning of another. The looming end of the school year, coupled with the exhausting endeavors of packing and apartment hunting, weighed heavily on my mind.

All I had was my foster family, and living with them wasn’t healthy for me. In their eyes, I was merely an innocent human girl, but within myself, I knew the truth—I was a vampire living secretly among their household.

So, I left by applying to college. I wanted to start fresh and make my own decisions. I aim to take full advantage of this opportunity and leave the past in the past. I’m not ready to make friends; it’s as if my very soul recoils from their presence, as though I’m an intruder in a world where I’ll never belong.

It’s probably for the best to be alone since it’s already hard to hide my bloodthirst.

My sister, my only friend, is gone. For years I’ve searched for her—scouring missing persons databases and reaching out to the foster care office familiar with me. With little contact with other relatives, my efforts have led to nothing.

As I drop my backpack next to my desk and drag myself to my bed where I collapse, back flat against the mattress. I gaze up, my eyes tracing patterns on the blank canvas of the ceiling. Thoughts spiral out of control, compelling me to face the memories I’ve fought so hard to suppress.

My father scarcely probed into the depths of our family’s past, merely revealing that he was a Moroi and we, his kin, identified as Dhampirs. We were compelled to confront this reality, resigned to the belief that I had no choice but to bear the root of his anger.

I was defenseless, relying solely on my sister Rachel for support. She saw the abuse and confronted our father, outraged, but he ignored her. Even with her anger, Rachel still found herself obeying him, eventually resigning herself to the fact that his mistreatment of me was something we had to endure.

Rachel always stood by me when Dad punished me, sharing her leftover food and tending to my wounds. She comforted me, showing me, I wasn’t alone. Meanwhile, Mom felt distant, and our family slowly crumbled under Dad’s strict nature and Mom’s passivity.

The memory of his harsh voice is etched into my mind with painful clarity. “You’re damn pathetic, Rena! Don’t you understand that your fragility is a death sentence?” His words weren’t just a scolding—they were a brutal awakening, a forceful dismissal of my naivety.

While on another occasion, He said with a twisted sneer, “I do this to build your strength and endurance. So, will you quit being fucking weak?”

The paradox of his cruelty posing as kindness took root in my mind.

Each stinging slap, each deliberate cut that he inflicted served as a punishment, a cruel testament to his control over me. Even though years have elapsed, my body involuntarily tightens, bracing itself against the flood of memories that time has failed to dull.

My mother never condoned his behavior, and it was the root of their countless arguments. His treatment of my sister stood in stark contrast; she remained the apple of his eye, his untarnished angel, while I endured the brunt of his disdain. Despite it all, my love for Rachel never wavered—it wasn’t her doing. Not a single piece of it.

During our middle school years, tragedy shattered our reality, tearing apart the world as we once knew it.

The moment Rachel and I crossed the threshold, our schoolbags draped over our shoulders, we found ourselves catapulted into the midst of chaos. This was no usual burst of raised voices that often met us—it was a storm raging through the house, suggesting something had shattered beyond repair. For three straight days, their arguments grew more intense. Words became their sharp weapons, slicing through the air with each shout and comeback.

One day, fate cruelly tightened its grip around my family’s destiny. As we slowly pushed the front door ajar, ears straining against the oppressive stillness for the slightest hint of terror...

Nothing.

The house was bizarrely silent; so silent you could hear a pin drop.

We rushed into the dimly lit room and froze at the horrific scene before me. My mother’s body lies in a pool of dark liquid, and my father stands over her corpse, holding her mangled heart.

He grinned from ear to ear, his mouth filled with sharp teeth dripping with a tinted substance.

As I stood frozen, his eyes – a chilling blood orange – pierced through me, sending relentless shivers of fear that cascaded down my spine.

I glanced at my sister, who was standing in the corner, gazing at our mother with a vacant look as tears cascaded down her face.

The words he spoke were lost to me, muffled by the pounding in my ears. “Oh, sweethearts,” he began softly, a tone thick with unspoken secrets, “your mother and I... we had a little misunderstanding, that’s all.” He smoothed a hand over his tie, a gesture of misplaced nonchalance. “I handled it though. If you’re curious about our discussion, well—” His next breath seemed to draw the light from the room, his chest expanding with a weight that was almost palpable.

“It was about you, Rena.” His voice resonated like a haunting echo, sending a shiver through me as my blood turned icy.

Stumbling backwards, I felt the world tilt. “D-Dad,” I stuttered, my voice barely a whisper but loud with betrayal, “you’re a monster. Why did you—” My words choked off as I grappled with the enormity of what he implied. “Why?”

In an instant, he materialized before me, his hand snapping around my neck with a vice-like grip. A sinister smirk played across his lips as his fingernails, like claws, pressed mercilessly into my flesh.

Rachel’s scream pierced the air, jolting my senses. “Dad don’t hurt her!” she pleaded, desperation lacing her voice. His retort came fierce and booming, “Don’t you dare tell me what to do! Now stay there and be a good girl!”

Panic surged through me, my voice erupted in a jagged cry, “Dad – let go!” I writhed and twisted, frantic to escape the iron lock of his hold.

“Oh, my dear,” he murmured, his voice a blend of mockery and darkness, “you haven’t the slightest inkling of the havoc you and your sister have wrought upon our lineage. Perhaps there is some truth after all in their insistence—you do need to be roused from your slumber of ignorance.”

“Who... what are you talking about?” My words were a clash of bewilderment and unyielding defiance. “I will never become something as vile as you—never!”

“You’re a goddamn Dhampir!” he proclaimed, scorn saturating his voice. “Your mother thwarted me, prevented the completion of the Valprya ritual for you and your sister. But this indecision ends now; you must accept your true nature—a Dhampir.” His claws sank further, drawing blood that trickled down my neck.

“Dad,” I murmured, my voice quivering and eyes brimming with tears, “I know your love for Mom was real. You chose her for all the right reasons.”

He halted, his gaze shifting away. His hand clenched as he closed the distance between us. “Love can be insufficient at times. I made a misguided choice. My entire coven renounced me, all for a foolish infatuation with a human. You and your mother have become redundant now that I’ve embraced my true nature!” A sinister laugh escaped him as he poised his fangs at the juncture of my neck.

I felt my skin tighten, my vision blur, and a wave of cold wash over me.

“Relish in your newfound existence, my dear Rena; revel in it, though I have my reservations about your endurance,” he said, his menacing tone intensifying.

As my senses began to wane, the sound of approaching footsteps intertwined with a duet of sinister laughter.

A commanding voice shattered the silence. “Our business is concluded, Andrei. Your services are no longer necessary.”

“But that isn’t in accordance with our agreeme—”

Suddenly, a cascade of liquid splashed onto the floor, and all I could hear was my father’s desperate gasps for air. Moments later, the heavy thud of his body hitting the ground echoed through the room.

As my consciousness flickered like a dying flame, the world beyond me faded. Piercing the silence, an eerie, deep voice ordered, “Leave your sister Rachel; we have better plans for you.” I listened, heart pounding, as my sister’s screams grew fainter, swallowed by the sound of retreating footsteps.

It dawned on me that mysterious figure had taken my sister, vanishing without a trace. From that moment on, I was determined to find her at all costs.