CHAPTER 54: BRAIN & BLOOD

"Do you think that’s enough to stop me?" Seamus asked, his voice laced with mockery.

Isolde laughed, a sharp, cruel sound.

"And what can you do? Fight me with those thin arms and legs? I could snap you apart with my bare hands."

"No," he said calmly, pulling a dagger from his pocket, the one he’d taken from his last fight.

He pressed the cold, thin blade to his throat, feeling the bite of iron against his Adam’s apple.

"I’ll do this instead."

Her smile faltered.

"I know you won’t let me die, not after you’ve evolved with that endearing little power of yours." His gaze was steady, unwavering.

"And I know this isn’t your final evolution. You’re chasing something higher, aren’t you? The Supreme Being."

Seamus had asked the system for answers, and the truth had chilled him. Isolde was on the cusp of the legendary evolution, close to a being transcending all creatures who created them, a false god they called Demiurge, though not as strong as Them.

The Supreme Being: infinite Sanguine Veins, an endless well of blood, and godlike mastery over the Bloodstyle.

"Try me then, Seamus." Isolde’s smirk widened, no hesitation in her voice.

"I have eternity. Waiting for humans with special blood like yours to appear again is nothing." She tilted her head, her smirk insulting.

His jaw clenched. He hadn’t expected her to brush him off so easily. But she was right. He wasn’t unique forever. Sooner or later, another would be born to take his place.

But he couldn’t allow Viviane to remain trapped in her mother’s grip. Not after hearing her cries, her helplessness, her broken heart.

He still loved her as stupid and naive as it sounds but her plea for help and the injustice she felt all this time were enough to make him change his mind to save her.

He better bleed now than be burdened by those ugly thoughts and regret for abandoning her who betrayed him.

"Oh, I will. And I’ll make sure you regret this."

Without closing his eyes, without a trace of hesitation, Seamus dragged the dagger across his throat. Blood sprayed across the floor, hot and fast. The blade had cut deep, straight through his artery.

’Oh fuck. Did she just let me die like this? Damn it, you cruel bastard!’ he cursed silently, his vision already blurring as system notifications flickered across his sight.

[You are bleeding furiously!]

[The skill: Vital Overflow is activating.]

[Warning: stabilize bleeding immediately to reduce further damage.]

Through the haze, he heard Lulu’s horrified scream as she rushed to him, trying desperately to cover the wound.

’Strange... she isn’t lunging for my blood? What kind of vampire ignores prey this close?’ he thought bitterly, even as his strength ebbed.

Then came the sound: Isolde’s sharp, annoyed click of the tongue. She strode toward him, her expression dark with irritation. Seamus forced a smug smile, blood staining his teeth.

"Fine," she muttered coldly, crouching to press her hand over the wound, forcing his blood to still. "But I won’t save you. If you fall, you fall for good."

"Good," he rasped, voice hoarse but defiant. "That’s exactly what I want. I don’t need help from the very monster who created this mess."

***

The room was thick with the smell of iron. Blood splattered across the floor, streaked the walls, and soaked into the clothes of two little girls who clung to each other in horror.

Their father’s corpse lay sprawled on the ground, his eyes frozen wide in disbelief, his chest torn open by the blade that had pierced his heart again and again.

The woman who stood above him barely seemed human. Her long hair, drenched in his blood, clung to her pale face.

She still gripped the knife as the next flash of thunder revealed her expression, her blue eyes were utterly empty.

"Viviane. Diane. That is what happens when you cross your mother," she said, her voice cutting through the storm outside.

"No one betrays me. No one humiliates me and lives to see the sun."

Her words ended in a scream as wild laughter twisted her face. The knife danced in her hand, slicing through the air as though she might plunge it into the children at any moment.

The girls cried out, their small bodies shaking, too paralyzed by fear to move.

And then she changed.

Their mother, Isolde, warped into something monstrous. Her smile stretched impossibly wide, splitting her face.

Her body elongated until it brushed the ceiling, her arms dangling like ropes, claws scraping against the floor. Her eyes flared red as her voice deepened into a guttural growl.

"You failed to save everyone, Viviane. You failed to prevent this tragedy from happening."

The monster loomed closer. When Viviane turned, she realized Diane was gone. Only she remained, abandoned again, as always, each cycle ending in failure.

"No! This isn’t my fault!" she screamed as the creature’s claws wrapped around her throat and lifted her off the ground.

"You will be punished."

It pressed its other hand to her face and squeezed.

"AAHHHH!"

Her skull shattered in its grip.

. . .

Viviane’s eyes snapped open. The sky was still blue, calm and endless, though she could already see the storm gathering at the horizon.

She sat at the dining table, her sister across from her, waiting for lunch. From the kitchen drifted the smell of warm soup and freshly baked bread.

Her chest heaved as her eyes widened in horror. She was back again.

How many times now? Twenty? Fifty? She had lost count.

The nightmare always returned. These peaceful days always collapsed.

Viviane grabbed her red hair with trembling hands and slammed her forehead against the table until it bled.

The pain was sharp, unbearable, but real. Her body was real, not just her soul. Regeneration only made it worse, forcing her to live through each repetition of this hell.

"No. No. No. I don’t want to die anymore."

She had tried everything—slitting her own throat, leaping from windows, running until her legs broke—but every attempt ended the same. Punishment.

Only one option remained.

The door creaked open. Her mother stepped inside.

Viviane’s eyes went bloodshot. She lunged for the kitchen knife, seized it, and charged. The blade sank into flesh again and again as she screamed, her body soaked in blood.

But Isolde only smiled. Her lips curled wider, her face twisting with terrible joy.

"You chose the wrong way."

Her hand shot forward, clamping onto Viviane’s head. The grip was crushing, so tight Viviane could feel her eyes bulge from their sockets.

"You will be punished."

Her shrieks filled the house as the walls turned red, painted with blood and fragments of brain.