The vampire's personal witch

"I want to be free," Seraphine whispered, her voice trembling as the weight of despair crushed her soul. "I can't live like this anymore. Anything-anything is better than this. Gods, demons, anyone who can hear me... If I have to be a slave, if I have to sell my soul, so be it. I'll do it. Please, I beg you."

Her pleas echoed through the void of her mind, hollow and unending, a desperate cry swallowed by the darkness.

Poor little Seraphine.The cruel words hissed back at her, slithering through her thoughts like venom. A toy to be broken, a wasted existence-was that all she was? A pitiful girl scorned by her peers, cursed by fate to be born to useless parents, and made her useless in turn.

Who asked her to be born a lowlife? the voices sneered. Who asked her to endure useless parents and a life devoid of value?

The bitterness tightened around her chest like chains, "You're so useless!" The words still cuts Seraphine like a blade."You can't even master the simplest spells. How do you expect to survive?"

Vile curses rained down on Seraphine as she silently wished for her parents. An orphaned witch, she had become the punching bag of the witch's union. Seraphine had never had a friend, never known love. The only affection she had ever received was brutally torn away when her parents died when she was just ten years old. The world seemed determined to deny her any joy.

And fate, in its cruel way, played a twisted joke on her. At her awakening at thirteen, when most witches would have felt their powers surge, Seraphine was left with nothing. She couldn't cast a single spell, rendering her even more useless in the eyes of her clan.

"Another day of beatings, huh?" Seraphine mused to herself as she dragged her broken body to the witch healer. The healer, in her cruelty, always made her wait outside with her wounds festering before finally calling her in. By this point, Seraphine could no longer summon any feeling. Her life had come to a standstill-no movement, no flow-just stagnant, staring into the void.

"I'm used to this," she tried to convince herself as she tried to hypnotise herself into sleep, she needed to have the strength to drag herself to healing after the usual rounds of torture.

She awoke to the sharp pain of a kick to her already sore, aching back. Instinctively, she wanted to scream, cry, to finally fight back, but she couldn't. Instead, she bit her lip and stood up, tears brimming in her eyes as she fought to hold them back.

It was the doctor. "Why don't you just run away and spare us from the sight of you? I wonder why the witch elder insists on keeping you alive." The doctor's voice was laced with raw cruelty.

Seraphine said nothing, just bowing her head. She had already come to terms with the fact that they hated her for no reason-no reason at all. "I might as well run away," she thought, mustering up the courage she had been cultivating for years now. She had held onto a shred of hope that the world might show her a little mercy, After years of being brutally tortured, all that was holding her from breaking down was the love her parents showed her even until their deaths.

Seraphine's parents had been murdered by the Witch Elder himself, under the guise of "purging the weak." She had watched helplessly as they were torn apart, their pleas for mercy drowned in the laughter of the witches. The Witch Elder, a man with eyes cold as obsidian and a heart twisted with malice, had smiled at her through it all, promising her the same fate if she proved as useless as they had. And indeed she had.

She had been taken in by the witches not out of pity, but as a twisted form of amusement. Had been adopted by the parents they brutally killed, she'd literally never known her real parents. Her lack of power was an embarrassment, and they relished tormenting her for it. From the moment she entered the witch's union, she was the subject of scorn. The youngest witch, Calista, particularly enjoyed tormenting her, using minor spells to ignite her skin with small, painful burns or freeze her fingers until they turned blue. Calista would mock her constantly, her voice filled with venom. "No wonder your parents are dead. They were weak, just like you."

Seraphine had nowhere to escape. The Witch Elder had bound her to the union with a blood curse, ensuring that every attempt to run would result in agonizing pain. The few times she had tried, her blood would boil, leaving her convulsing on the ground as the witches watched and laughed. The curse etched into her skin pulsed with a sickening glow.

Even the healer, a woman meant to mend and restore, Doctor Anise, treated Seraphine with sadistic delight. Instead of healing her wounds, she would force Seraphine to endure excruciating pain, slicing her skin open with enchanted daggers and then slowly knitting the flesh back together, all while whispering venomous words in her ear. "Your suffering brings me joy, little witch. You're nothing but a toy for us to break."

The nights were the worst. Seraphine would often wake up to find Calista and the others standing over her, casting binding spells that would hold her still as they took turns tormenting her. Her body was bruised, bloodied, and broken, but her spirit... her spirit, they told her, was meant to be irreparably shattered, the more she cried, the more her tears were relished. Not all members of the Witches union tormented her, they simply treated her with indifference, which she would have chosen over her current fate rather be ignored all her life than be tortured, sadly life doesn't offer choices.

After receiving her treatment, Seraphine returned to the small shed where she had been forced to live, unable to stay in her parents' house. Which had been burned down after their miserly death. She packed what little she could and waited for midnight.

And when the time came, she ran. She ran and never once looked back. But time will tell if indeed the blood curse that tied her to the witches Union would turn against her.

But as she fled, regret began to seep in. She knew nothing of the world outside the witch's union, and her rashness started to gnaw at her. She came to a halt and sat down to think things through. Looking around, she realized she was in a dense forest, with the union's clearing still visible in the distance. She decided to press on, moving further away. She couldn't risk being found, or she might never live through another attempt to escape.

As she ran, a strange sense of freedom washed over her, and tears began to flow. The wind, the air, the grass beneath her feet-it was all so wonderful, something she had never fully appreciated before. "I never want to go back," she thought. "I want to be free."

But she was tired, so tired and afraid. The night was pitch dark, and she couldn't sleep. Ants and bugs crawled all over her, but she couldn't turn back-not for anything in the world.

Seraphine's heart pounded as she pushed through the dense forest, the brambles tearing at her clothes and skin, but she didn't care. The adrenaline from her escape still coursed through her veins, and despite the throbbing pain in her body from years of torment, she felt a strange, fleeting sense of freedom. The night was silent, save for the rustling of leaves and her shallow breaths. She had no idea where she was going, but that hardly mattered. All that mattered was that she was away-from the witches, from the abuse, from Calista.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the forest. Shadows danced on the trees, and the cold night air bit at her skin. Seraphine was utterly alone, lost in a world she had never known. Her fear began to creep in, replacing the brief sense of freedom she had felt. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering not just from the cold, but from the realization that she had no one.

*No one in the world to care for me. No one who knows I'm even gone.*

As she moved further into the forest, exhaustion caught up with her. Her legs trembled with every step, and her vision blurred from the fatigue. She stumbled, nearly falling to the ground, but she caught herself, gasping for air. Her body begged her to stop, to rest, but her mind screamed otherwise. She couldn't risk stopping now. Not so soon after her escape.

But then she heard it-a voice.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Seraphine froze, her breath caught in her throat. A figure emerged from the shadows-a young woman, no older than Seraphine herself. She had soft brown hair, loose and flowing over her shoulders, and kind eyes that shimmered in the moonlight. There was something oddly comforting about her presence.

"You look hurt," the girl said, stepping closer. "Do you need help?"

Seraphine hesitated, torn between her desperation for safety and the ingrained distrust she had developed from years of cruelty. But the girl seemed so genuine, her expression filled with concern, and Seraphine was too exhausted to refuse.

"Who are you?" Seraphine managed to whisper, her voice hoarse from days of pain and fear.

"My name is Lira," the girl replied with a warm smile. "I live nearby. I can help you."

Seraphine looked into Lira's eyes, searching for any hint of deception, but she saw nothing but compassion. Against her better judgment, she nodded. She was too tired, too broken to resist any longer.

Lira gently wrapped her arm around Seraphine, helping her walk. "You're safe now," she whispered. "I promise."

Seraphine leaned into her, grateful for the support, and allowed herself to be led deeper into the forest. The path was narrow and winding, but Lira seemed to know where she was going. After what felt like hours of walking, they arrived at a small cabin nestled among the trees. It was humble, with smoke curling from the chimney, and the warmth radiating from it was inviting.

Lira led Seraphine inside, and the sudden rush of warmth hit her like a wave. She hadn't realized how cold she had been until now. Lira helped her to a chair by the fire and fetched a blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders.

"You've been through a lot, haven't you?" Lira asked softly, sitting across from her.

Seraphine nodded, feeling the weight of her exhaustion pressing down on her. She hadn't spoken to anyone in so long, not since the torment had become a daily routine.

Lira handed her a cup of something warm. "Drink this, it'll help."

Seraphine hesitated, staring down at the liquid. She had been poisoned before, tricked into believing kindness only to be met with cruelty. But Lira's eyes were so sincere. Slowly, she took a sip. The warmth spread through her body, easing the tension in her muscles.

"You can rest here for as long as you need," Lira said, her voice gentle. "You're safe now. No one will hurt you anymore."

For the first time in years, Seraphine felt a spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she had finally found someone who wouldn't betray her. Someone who could be the friend she had longed for all these years.

Weeks passed, and in that time, Seraphine settled into life with Lira. The betrayal she had once feared no longer lingered in her thoughts as the vampire woman proved herself time and again to be a friend. Lira wasn't what Seraphine expected, though she wasn't quite sure what she had expected to begin with. Every day, Lira brought her food, warmth, and kindness. They would sit by the fire at night, sharing stories-though Lira did most of the talking. Seraphine, still scarred by her years of torment, found it difficult to open up.

On this particular evening, Seraphine sat in a small chair by the hearth, her legs tucked under her. The flickering flames cast a soft glow over the room, illuminating Lira's face as she poked at the embers, her expression thoughtful.

"Did you know," Lira began, her voice soft, almost conversational, "the witches weren't always like this? They used to live in a small city, far from the union where you were kept."

Seraphine blinked, her curiosity piqued. "A city?"

Lira nodded. "Yes. Not many people know about it now. It was before the Witch Elder rose to power. The witches used to live peacefully within their own boundaries, keeping to themselves. They had no need for cruelty or power. Their magic was used for good-healing, helping, making their small community thrive."

Seraphine frowned, the idea of witches living peacefully so foreign to her that she could barely imagine it. "But... the union..." "The union she'd always known had never received foreigners".

"The union is a twisted version of what the witches used to be," Lira said, her voice tinged with sadness. "When the Witch Elder took control, everything changed. He craved power, and he saw weakness in the old ways. He turned the witches into something dark, something cruel. Now, they hide in their fortress, surrounded by those cursed forests, they only use bats as messengers to interact with the rest of the world for trade and information if they please."

Seraphine's eyes widened in surprise. "Bats? I've seen them... but I always thought they were just ordinary creatures."

Lira laughed softly, shaking her head. "No, they're much more than that. The witches have enchanted them to carry messages, so they rely on those bats to stay connected. The forests around the union are just as cursed as the witches themselves, filled with dangers meant to keep outsiders away."

Seraphine shifted in her chair, the memories of the forest making her shudder. "I never knew... I never saw anything outside those walls, not until I ran. It was all pain and torment. I thought the whole world was like that."

Lira's face softened as she glanced at Seraphine. "You've seen so little of the world, haven't you? The witches made sure of that. But not everyone is like them, Seraphine. There are many people who live quietly, without cruelty. Not all magic is used for harm."

For a moment, Seraphine simply sat there, trying to absorb the new information. Her life had been so narrowly confined to the horrors of the union that it was difficult to believe that peace and kindness could exist elsewhere. But here was Lira, living proof that it could.

"You said the witches lived in a city," Seraphine said quietly, her brow furrowing. "Were you... there?"

Lira hesitated, then slowly nodded. "I was. A long time ago, before everything changed. I wasn't a witch, of course-I was a merchant, trading goods with them. I saw how they lived before the darkness took over. I watched the transformation of their city, from a place of light to what it is now."

Seraphine's heart raced. "A merchant? Then, what are you now?" Her voice quivered, but there was genuine curiosity in her eyes.

Lira's lips curved into a small smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'm still a merchant, in a way. But not of the same things." She paused, her gaze flickering to Seraphine's face as though weighing whether or not to continue. Then, she took a deep breath. "I'm also a vampire, Seraphine.

Seraphine's mouth fell open in shock. "A... vampire?" The word tumbled out awkwardly, her voice barely a whisper. She had only ever heard of vampires in whispers and cautionary tales-the blood-drinking creatures of nightmares. She had never met one, let alone known one to be so kind.

Lira nodded slowly, her expression unreadable. "Yes. Not all vampires are the monsters you've heard about. Some of us have to survive like anyone else."

Seraphine's head spun, trying to process the revelation. "I've... never seen anyone outside of the witches. I didn't think there were others-people like you, or even anyone who would help me." She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, her body instinctively recoiling in fear, even though Lira had shown her nothing but kindness.

"I'm sorry," Lira said softly, watching Seraphine closely. "I didn't want to scare you. I just thought it was time you knew."

Seraphine took a deep breath, her heart still pounding in her chest. "I... I don't know what to say. You've been kind to me, and I-I owe you everything. But a vampire..." Her voice trailed off, and she looked down at her hands, wringing them together. Her mind raced back to the cruel words the witches had spat at her, labeling her as useless, weak, and deserving of her suffering. *What would a vampire want with someone like me?* she thought.

"I understand if it's hard for you to accept," Lira said, her voice gentle. "You've lived in isolation for so long, trapped by those who should have protected you. It's difficult to believe that not everyone will hurt you."

Seraphine glanced up, meeting Lira's eyes. "But why... why help me? Why would you want to save someone like me?"

Lira smiled softly, her gaze warm and understanding. "Because I see in you what the witches never could. You're strong, Seraphine. Stronger than you realize. I've met plenty of people in my time, but few have survived what you've been through. And there's something else."

Seraphine blinked, her surprise growing. "What else?"

"You're more than what they told you," Lira said, her voice firm. "The witches feared you for a reason, and it wasn't because you were weak. They kept you oppressed because they were afraid of what you might become."

Seraphine frowned, confusion clouding her mind. "But I couldn't even cast a spell. I'm not powerful, Lira. I'm nothing."

Lira shook her head. "That's not true. They kept you powerless. There's a difference. And I believe that in time, you'll discover just how powerful you are."

Seraphine fell silent, her mind spinning with everything Lira had said. For the first time in her life, someone was telling her she wasn't useless. Someone believed in her. The thought was overwhelming, and a small part of her dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, Lira was right.

But hope, she had learned, was a dangerous thing.

Still, in that moment, as the fire crackled softly beside them, Seraphine allowed herself to believe, if only for a little while, that she might have a future outside the cruelty of the witch's union. A future where she could be more than the helpless orphan they had told her she was.