h4Chapter 236: Traumatic Past/h4

    (Fabian’s POV)

    After waking up, I found myself in an unfamiliar ce. My head was spinning as I could hear distinct types of sound, machine beeping, someone was faintly talking, the fan attached to the ceiling making a sharp sound every now and then.

    With much effort, I opened my eyes and looked at someone whom I haven’t seen before. He seemed like a doctor because of his white coat as he questioned me about my condition.

    I tried to speak, answer him, but nothing came out of my mouth. As I tried some more, the ache in my throat became unbearable. But I still tried again, holding my throat, but the result remained the same. No voice came out of my mouth, just some unintelligent sound.

    The doctor must have caught onto my condition as he asked, "Child, are you a mute or are you unable to speak, right now? If it is the former, nod your head once and if it is thetter, shake your head once."

    I shook my head multiple times while trying to answer him with words. Understanding my answer, the doctor turned to the person whom he was talking to a few seconds ago. He said to the other guy, "It’s no doubt0 it has been quite a traumatic experience for this child. Although, I will run some tests on him thoroughly, but for now, my prediction is, it seems his vocal cords aren’t damaged. It must be selective mutism, which can gradually improve."

    I stared at the other person, his skin was white as snow, his lips, in contrast were crimson. He looked wlessly colorless, almost like death god himself. Or was he really the death god? Am I dead? Is this the gate to the afterlife? Am I hallucinating now? Nevertheless, he was handsome, handsome like those royal people, mom used to tell me stories about. His all-ck attire from head to toe, made him look more radiant. As if, he was shining.

    They both must have noticed me gawking as I was tantly doing it. The pale sir was boring his eyes at me, without even blinking. His intense re was too much for me to handle as I shifted my gaze towards the other person in the room.

    Now, that my attention was back on him, the doctor spoke to me again, "Ahh~ ...... child ...... this is your~ ... this is the Royal Prince of the Blood Fangs n, His Highness Jacob Larson. And~ ......" there was a long pause, I saw a flicker of something unknown sh across his eyes, he continued, "And he is also your, grandfather."

    I blinked once, then twice, then thrice, but I couldn’t make sense of his words at all. Tilting my head, I looked at them with a bewildered expression, ’What did this doctor say? That fair as bleach guy is my what~ .... Not father, not uncle, not brother, not savior~ ... but a what ...... my grandfather? Do they take me for a fool? Are they some bad guy? Do they want to do something bad to me? What kind of absurdity is this?’

    Thinking in this way, I narrowed my eyes at them and backed off, creating some distance between us, though it waspletely useless.

    The person, who imed to be the Royal Prince of some n, named Jacob Larson spoke for the first time, his voice was cold and aloof, detached, "Verne, step out of the room, will you? I need to have a chat with the kid."

    My eyes widened in shock. rm bells red inside my head, my gut feeling told me, I shouldn’t be alone with this man, who carried a dangerous aura around him.

    The doctor whose name is supposed to be Verne, tried to object, "Your highness, the young child has experienced something truly terrible. Please be patient. He cannot handle any kind of stress right now."

    "Verne, don’t overstep your boundaries," the colorless sir replied crisply. "I know what I am doing and besides, I won’t do anything to harm him. He is my grandson. He will have to know the truth sooner orter. Now, get out, before I~" the one who called himself my grandfather uttered, his words full of finality.

    I shook my head as the doctor’s figure started receding. I wanted to shout that I don’t want to be left alone with this person, but only sharp pain greeted me when I attempted to exert myself.

    As the door shut behind the doctor, my supposed grandfather’s entire focus was on me. As he extended his hand, I closed my eyes tightly, gripping the duvet like a vice.

    "You just like your mother. You have got her same amber eyes as well as her cat like temper," he uttered.

    I opened one eye, peeking at him, his stretched arm, resting on the bed beside my leg, a faint smile tucked on his lips. I blinked at him, ’Does he know my mother?’

    He continued, "Your father’s name is Tristan Stephens and your mother’s name is Cami Stephens, right?"

    I nodded hesitantly at him. That was correct. That means, he knows about my parents.

    He exhaled a heavy sigh and asked me, "Have your mother ever told to you about her maternal family?"

    I narrowed my eyes at his words. My mother, she once said that she had no parents. I pressed my lips and shook my head.

    "Ahh~ ...... What’s your name?" he fired another question. This time he showed me his palm and continued, "As you cannot speak write now, use my palm to answer. You know, how to write, hmm?"

    I nodded and wrote my name on his palm with my finger. Unlike his cold appearance, he was patient. As I finished writing my name, he uttered, "Fabian." I pulled his hand and wrote, ’Where is my mom and dad?’

    He looked at me with a nk expression for a few seconds, not uttering anything. Rubbing his forehead, he sighed and held my hand in firm grip as he said, "Your mother and father ... they have deceased."

    I bit my lips hard and instantly felt a metallic taste in my mouth as I heard his heart wrenching words. My nose red as tears started pouring out of my eyes, staining both my cheeks. He held me in his arms as I cried, bawling my eyes out.

    I remembered my mom’s frantic voice as she pushed me inside our stuffed cupboard, "Fab, no matter what happens, don’te out. Don’t even make a sound, okay? Promise me. You know mom always loves you." I promised her, as she wanted. Those remained her final words she said to me.

    I recalled those vicious animals entering our house and tearing apart my mom and dad, right in front of me. They merciless and cruel as they did that. I remember how terrified I was, that I even peed in my shorts. I wanted to run out, but as mom’s body was falling to the ground, she looked at me onest time, as is to remind me, not to step out.

    I remembered everything, every single detail. I don’t know how much time passed as I sobbed uncontrobly. And this person just held me and patted my back.

    Soon, I fainted from over exertion andter when I woke up, I found myself in a vast room filled with darkness. After a few days, I recovered my voice and came to know that the pale sir wasn’t lying. He really was my grandfather and he was also a vampire. It took me sometime toe to terms with the reality of my origin, my identity. That, I too was a vampire, but a hybrid, as my father was a human being,

    _______________________

    I walked aimlessly as I thought about my childhood, those bone crushing memories. My mind reeling with countless thoughts. My steps came to an abrupt halt as I realized where I was. I was standing at some distance from Myra’s house. Her room’s window was clearly visible from the back side as I gazed at the ss reflecting the light, unconsciously.

    I have once lost my house, my loved ones, my everything because of those filthy, rotten mutts called werewolves. But this time, I won’t let them destroy what’s precious to me. I won’t let any one touch, no .... forget about touch, I won’t let them or anybody elsee even close to the people I cherish.

    My reason to approach Myra at beginning must have been something else, but now, I wholeheartedly wanted to be by her side. She is truly, a kind and genuine person, with no malice, not even a faintest bit of ill will towards anyone. She is brave, courageous and dauntless, always helping others, always standing with the weak.

    Whenever I am with her, I wish that time could just stop. And when I am not with her, I wish to relive the moments I spend with her.

    But even after all this, I am afraid, afraid of how she will react after knowing the truth about me, my existence. Because one thing she always says, she hates being lied to and she cannot forget betrayal.

    To Be Continued . . . . . . . .