Chapter 69: I Coughed Blood as the Goddess Descended
"Allow me to tell you of the weeping soverign - the first and last fool of the vampire kind."
A voice, as old as an first blood spilled, murmuring through the crackling air that rained rivers of bloods. Cocoon trembled, its silky surface unweaving like a gentle embrace unspooling. From within, a chuckle, short and sweet like torn flesh on the cheek, brushed through the world as if it mourned the most foolish gracefulness.
"She was born when the blood moon was still dangled, and vampires still ruled the night. Their ethereal fangs tore through the flesh of gods, and hungers satiated by reddest seas from the <Divine Realm>. But one night, the childish La Llorona witnessed red wines as indifference, and skinned cattles as cruelty."
The cacoon’s gap unfurled, weeping black tides of sorrow and mourns. A hand emerges, youthful, short fingers, nails reddened. It carrasses the edge of the cacoon’s gap, sharp nails sinking into the silks as if returning a child’s favor with pain, before tearing the gap open.
"Therefore, she pray, kneel as a soverign to her subject. She wept helplessly for her kin’s stubborness, unwillingness to change. The red eyes she once loved soured and draped in the blood of the innocents tamed. And so, she ends in a betray."
The figure merely walked itself free, blood-red wave pooling each step as she descended, her youthful face veiled by a cascade of white hair. Her crimson eyes glazed over the rosary red coffin of Manasseh, then to the Druid Elder who murdered her kins, trapped them from their deserved deaths, and coffined a child of her own making.
"By a plea to the gods, she tore apart her people’s fangs, cursed their tongues to silence, and melded their beloved <Blood Mana> for mere party tricks. Her kins called it treason, she...I called it pity."
Each step pulsed the abyssal dread from the Druid elder, each soft syllable a dissonance from the vampire’s childlike figure. One step pooled, another cracked the ground, then her bare feet landed on the rosary coffin.
"And so, I was torn apart, the moon no longer crimson of my own selfishness. I died, I wept, I screamed, I laughed, I despaired, I cowered, then...I waited."