“I often have this dream.”
A white room envelops me, the icy floor tormenting my bare feet, the ceiling glaring with harsh light that nearly blinds my eyes.
Whispers from others often reach my ears. They seem to be talking about something.
But those voices are muffled, as if separated by thick glass or submerged in water—blurred and distant.
In the dream, it’s hard to make out what they’re saying, yet after waking, I can vaguely discern some obscure words.
“Active sample”… “Resistance testing”… “Record pain threshold”… “Anomaly”… “Rejection reaction”
These words carry no warmth, yet they chill me to the bone, tormenting my very soul.
I often find myself restrained.
My wrists and ankles bound by cold metal—any slight movement brings chills and stinging pain. The air is filled with the sharp scent of alcohol and a faint… metallic rust.
That smell seems to come from my own body.
Occasionally, in my blurred vision, twisted figures appear. They wear long white coats and hold sharp instruments. I can’t see their faces, only the reflection on the blades: a curled-up, terrified silver-haired girl.
Then comes endless pain.
I feel needles piercing my skin, blood being drawn from my veins, blades cutting into my eyes, despair polluting my mind.
But amid that suffocating white and cold, it’s not entirely pain.
In the dream, I often see a figure who offers warmth and hope.
She is a girl, seemingly older than me, with a slimmer build, always wearing the same white clothes.
Yet in my feelings, in that instinct beyond age or memory… I am the one who needs to protect her.
For some reason, I feel she is like my little sister—an existence I must protect with everything I have, cherish and love.
She is my only attachment in that white hell, my only weakness, and the sole reason I can endure the pain again and again without completely breaking.
But in the dream, she is also “blurred.”
Her eyes, her warmth, her face… I can’t see them clearly.
Yet just before waking, I always see that girl holding something in her hands, turning around, and giving me a big smile.
Then calling out something.
“Big sister! This… is for you!”
“I often have this dream…”
…
In the dimly lit room, the candle flames on the wall flickered desperately.
On the bed, Sylvie suddenly opened her eyes. Her hazy, blurred vision gradually cleared, accompanied by the lingering warmth of tears at the corners of her eyes.
“Ara, did you have a nightmare?”
A familiar voice, laced with teasing and amusement, broke the quiet of the room, sounding utterly abrupt.
Upon waking, the first thing she saw was Utia’s beautiful face wearing a smile, her crimson eyes staring unblinkingly at her.
Sylvie blinked twice. Her expression shifted from initial confusion to realization and shock, then to instinctive wariness.
She hurriedly tried to prop herself up and move away, but the moment she did, a wave of intense dizziness and weakness overwhelmed her. Her vision darkened, and she collapsed back onto the bed… right in front of Utia’s inexplicably pleased face.
“I advise you not to move. Your little body can’t handle any more strain.”
Utia’s voice carried a lazy hint of laughter. She reached out with one hand and gently pressed on Sylvie’s shoulder, effortlessly pushing the struggling girl back down onto the bed.
Under the candlelight, those crimson eyes were like two pools of scarlet water, reflecting Sylvie’s pale, panicked face—yet one where she deliberately maintained her usual calm, indifferent mask.
“Where… is this? Why am I lying here… and with you, Lady Utia…”
Her last words were clearly gritted through her teeth.
“Little one, how did you get so confused from just a nap? Heh heh heh…” Utia let out a series of sweet, cloying laughs from her throat.
“You were nearly sucked dry by Her Majesty the Queen. Should I say your vitality is tenacious, or your blood regeneration is astonishing? To think you woke up after just one day of fainting, as if nothing happened.” She teased in response.
Memories flooded back like a tide. Only then did Sylvie remember… her unauthorized act of giving blood to Lady Cassia had been exposed!
What about Lady Cassia now? Could she already be—!
Sylvie’s expression turned panicked again. She tried once more to sit up, but Utia, as if anticipating her thoughts, responded first in a lazy tone.
“Relax… Your little pale-faced friend is fine. Her Majesty thinks it was me who couldn’t hold back and ‘bit’ you.”
“…Huh?” Sylvie looked at Utia in surprise.
The other casually swung her empty, dangling sleeve, deliberately pinching her voice into a aggrieved, saddened tone.
“Your big sister here got quite the scolding from Her Majesty~”
Her crimson eyes curved, but there was no mirth in them—only deep, playful intrigue.
“She said I couldn’t control myself and played with her most beloved little treat. The Queen was furious, saying I didn’t know my place…” She trailed off, then let out a scoffing laugh.
“So, as punishment, this arm can’t be used for a while.”
Sylvie was even more stunned upon hearing this.
The Queen… got it wrong?
She thought Utia was the one who bit her?
“Lady Utia… you didn’t tell Her Majesty the truth?” she probed cautiously.
“What do you think?” Utia swung her empty sleeve again.
“…Why help me?” Sylvie asked softly, her voice filled with incredulous confusion. Her gray eyes locked onto Utia, as if trying to discern something.
The playful smile on Utia’s face grew thicker. She lazily propped herself up, her silver hair cascading like a waterfall beside Sylvie’s pillow.
“Help you?” She let out a light laugh.
“Of course… because big sister hasn’t had enough fun yet.”
“It wasn’t easy for me to catch your weakness. If the Queen found out just like that, wouldn’t it be too boring? I was already planning to ‘play’ with you properly tonight, but who knew the Queen would notice, and…”
As she spoke, her crimson eyes narrowed meaningfully.
“Big sister doesn’t want her rare little find to just disappear in a muddle. If you’re going to die, at least let me have my fill first.”
Those words sent an indescribable chill up Sylvie’s spine, but she still couldn’t accept it. Just to satisfy her desires, would this malicious woman really conceal the truth for her?
“I still don’t understand. You could have just told the truth, and the Queen wouldn’t have punished you. Your arm wouldn’t have been torn off… I don’t think someone as malicious as you would go this far just for amusement.”
Vigilance and confusion flickered in Sylvie’s gray eyes as she stared intently at Utia, trying to see through the true intent behind that playful smile.
Yet Utia merely chuckled lightly a few more times, her smile still carrying that inscrutable eeriness.
“Heh heh~ So blunt, little one.”
“You’re right. Having an arm ripped off alive hurt so much I nearly cried. But… compared to that pain, I enjoy this situation far more.”
As she spoke, she reached out with her remaining hand, her fingertip gently tracing Sylvie’s lips.
“Watching you fluster because you feel indebted, watching you forced to rely on your enemy— this twisted relationship… big sister loves it.”
“Nn…”
As expected, she couldn’t think too highly of this malicious woman. How could she possibly conceal the truth without expecting something in return…
“Why go this far… What is it about me that attracts you so much? Compared to other blood livestock, all I have is the meaningless title of ‘the Queen’s exclusive blood servant.'” Sylvie continued warily.
The two lay facing each other, their faces mere centimeters apart. Sylvie could even see her own pale reflection in Utia’s eyes.
That unsettling smile remained on Utia’s face, but Sylvie could also sense… her aura seemed to have changed?
Slowly, ever so slowly, Utia reached out with her remaining intact hand and gently caressed Sylvie’s cheek.
The vampires’ chill and this sudden intimacy made Sylvie instinctively want to pull back, but Utia’s fingers applied slight pressure, unyieldingly holding her in place.
“Yes, why indeed…” Utia murmured softly, the playfulness in her crimson eyes gradually settling into something deeper, more complex.
It was an emotion Sylvie had never imagined seeing on Utia’s face… Nostalgia?
Her cool thumb gently rubbed Sylvie’s cheek, as if savoring something. Her voice still carried laughter, yet it felt more “genuine” than before.
“Because big sister likes you, little one… Back then, and now too. My feelings for you are far deeper than you can imagine…”
Obsession flickered in Utia’s crimson eyes, leaving Sylvie bewildered.
“Hey, little one, I often think… If one day I could truly possess you, how wonderful that would be. Don’t you think… so too?”
…