Trapped With The Devil's Spawn

CHAPTER 1

TIARA THORNELLS

The old man gently persuaded me to get some rest. I was weak, and I could feel it in every part of my body. He left me alone inside a room filled with vintage furnishings, worn wooden drawers, faded curtains, and a scent of time long past. There was something hauntingly serene about the place, like a memory too old to touch.

I closed my eyes, hoping that sleep would wrap me in its comfort. But the minutes dragged on, long and quiet, and sleep never came. I opened my eyes again and sighed deeply.

Every time I closed my eyes, the darkness triggered my thoughts to return to Darly.

On what she did to me. Her face was the last thing I saw before everything went black. Even now, I still couldn’t fully comprehend it.

Why would she kill me?

A surge of emotion rose in my chest. I bit down hard on my lower lip as heat gathered at the corners of my eyes. My vision blurred, and before I could stop them, tears spilled down my cheeks.

After everything we went through together... all the memories, the laughter, the moments I thought were real... never did I imagine she would do something so cruel. Not even in my worst nightmares. I desperately hoped this was all just a terrible dream.

I pinched my arm several times, praying that this was just a figment of my subconscious that I’d wake up and none of it would be real. But all I got was sore, reddened skin.

Wherever this place is... this strange, unfamiliar world, I want to go back. I want to return to my real life. And more than anything, I want answers. I need to hear it straight from Darly’s mouth... why did that unthinkable act?

Instead of sleeping, I wasted the night crying, my mind a mess of questions, and grief. Everything inside me felt heavy.

When the morning light broke through, I opened my eyes and I found that nothing had changed. I was still in the same room, lying on the same soft bed. My eyes wandered to the window at the end of the bed. Vines with small, delicate flowers clung to the iron grills, and soft beams of golden-orange light from the sunrise spilled into the room. The light touched everything with warmth. Outside, I could hear the faint, melodic chirping of birds.

Then, something else caught my attention, a smell.

My chest rose slowly as I inhaled. The scent of food drifted into the room, rich and comforting. My stomach growled in response, and I placed a hand over it, feeling the empty ache inside.

Carefully, I sat up. My body felt stiff and sore. I swung my legs off the bed and let my feet touch the wooden floor. The cold wood made me flinch slightly, it was icy against my skin.

I tried to take a step forward.

Pain shot through my entire body.

I winced, my muscles tensing as a deep, lingering through me. Every inch of my body throbbed.

Now that I think about it, I remember hearing yesterday that this girl, Tiara had gone missing and was later found dead inside the horse stable.

If I’m not mistaken, they said she likely collapsed from overwork, her body simply giving out.

A strange mix of sympathy washed over me, both for the previous owner of this body I now inhabited... and for the body I left behind in my real world.

I s tepped forward cautiously, each movement uncertain and unfamiliar. But something caught my attention, a full-length mirror standing beside the headboard of the bed. I turned toward it, and for the very first time, saw the body I now occupied reflected in the glass.

“So this is… Tiara Thornells?” I murmured, my voice barely audible as I examined this girl.

“She’s... beautiful. But thin... You can tell she was exhausted from work…”

She had fair, rosy skin, almost porcelain. Her eyes were delicate, a shade of innocent blue that made her look younger than she probably was. A slim, pointed nose sat above a pair of small, heart-shaped lips. Her body had curves, but it was clear she was fragile. Perhaps it was the toll of her work that left her in this state.

Then I noticed her straight long hair, it struck me immediately. A deep, blood-red hue, like a splash of crimson ink. It framed her face and fell down her back like silk. Judging by her reflection, she stood around 5'6" tall.

Yes, Tiara was beautiful. But there was a heaviness in my chest, a dull ache as I stared at her. She died at a young age like mine.

My thoughts were interrupted by the growl of my stomach. Hungry again. I stepped out of the bedroom and followed the mouthwatering scent that lingered in the air as if leading me somewhere. I found myself in front of a curtain-covered doorway. Gently, I pushed the fabric aside and entered the kitchen.

There, I saw an old man. He had his back to me, facing a fireplace where he was cooking. A clay pot sat over the flames, something simmering inside it. At the same time, he was frying something over the open fire using firewood. Smoke curled upward and escaped through a traditional chimney above, a rustic, old-fashioned setup.

When he turned and saw me, he paused for a second. Then, he smiled brightly.

“Tiara... good morning. You must be hungry. Come, sit over here. I’m almost done cooking,” he said in a cheerful voice.

He pulled out a chair and I slowly walked over and sat down.

“It seems like... you still don’t remember anything, do you?” he said gently behind me.

“N-No. I don’t know what happened to me.”

The words stumbled out of my mouth.

“It's okay, Tiara. I’m here to guide you… And maybe, your memories will return in time. Just not yet. You can always ask me anything.”

He carefully set the dishes he had prepared on the table, one by one. I couldn’t resist any longer. The hunger was unbearable. I began to eat. He quietly took his seat at the far end of the table.

As I chewed my food slowly, I looked up at him silently studying his face.

"Do you remember my name?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes... you're Alfred," I replied politely.

"And what am I to you?"

"You are my grandfather."

A wide smile spread across his face at my answer.

I didn’t want to disappoint the old man by not calling him “grandfather".

"G-Grandpa… why am I dressed like this? I look like a slave..."

He let out a long sigh.

"Now that you've asked... I will tell you everything."

Another deep breath escaped him, as if the truth weighed heavily on his chest.

"You are a slave... bound in service to the noble family of the Duke and Duchess. You’ve been working for them since you turned eighteen. You’re twenty now..."

His voice faltered for a moment, eyes filled with guilt.

"Service is mandatory for commoners like you. I’ve pleaded so many times to have you released. I’ve begged for mercy, especially after seeing how badly you've been through. Beaten... Overworked. But... there was nothing I could do. Their power, their influence... it far exceeds mine."

"Commoner?" I repeated under my breath.

"That’s what they call those without noble titles," he explained. "Even though I am one of the few healers with spiritual powers, people like them... those with wealth and titles still stand above us."

I stared at him, confused.

"But why? Why do they look down on healers? You’re the ones with real power, and they don’t even have any!"

He smiled faintly, though there was no joy in it.

"Because in this kingdom, money still speaks louder than magic. Some healers are born into noble families, yes, but most of us are just ordinary people. That's why we were gathered in this place. Springfield Village... the land of the healers."

"How did you gain your powers?" I asked, captivated by the mystery behind it all.

"We are the Luminas Descendants," he said.

"According to our faith, we were blessed by the Gods and Goddesses... to protect humanity. We are born with spiritual energy. When united, this energy has the power to purify evil. It is also our responsibility to create and maintain the barrier that shields the kingdom from werewolves."

He paused, his gaze growing distant.

"But no matter how hard we try... no matter how many of us combine our powers... the barrier continues to weaken. Enemies still find ways to break through..."

"Grandpa… you also once mentioned vampires, right?"

He nodded.

"Yes. In the beginning, both vampires and werewolves were enemies of mankind... ruthless, bloodthirsty creatures. Back then, only the healers stood beside humanity. But as centuries passed, things changed. The healers and the vampires allied. Even the late kings supported it."

"The idea of building a great spiritual barrier came from this alliance... a magical shield to keep the enemies. But the barrier is not that powerful... Sometimes, it falters. And that’s when the vampires step in. They’re the kingdom’s second line of defense."

He looked at me with a serious expression.

"It’s the vampires’ duty to protect the people when werewolves breach the shield. And because of their heroism, people began to worship them... almost like gods. From that admiration, a tradition was born..."

His voice grew quiet.

"A blood offering... As a tribute... As a show of gratitude. And as a price for their protection."

I could feel a chill crawl across my skin, the hairs on my arms standing stiff as he spoke. His story unsettled me more with every word. This place, was far more terrifying than I had ever thought of. And I had a feeling… there was still so much I didn’t know.

“And as the decades passed,” he continued. “The vampires finally claimed the throne. The Vladerions... they are the most powerful bloodline of their kind.”

“W-Who are they exactly?” I asked.

“King Luther Vladerion,” he answered. “His wife, Queen Drucilla, and their sons... Prince Zatan Vladerion and Prince Dawn Vladerion. There are other vampire lineages that belong to the noble families, so be careful, Tiara. Even though many regard them as protectors, there are still abusive vampires, especially toward commoners. I’ve been hearing disturbing rumors... about attacks, about them biting women without warning. Most of the victims are females.”

I swallowed hard, a lump forming in my throat. What kind of world had I stumbled into? How could something so mysterious, something I had only ever read about in books or heard in childhood tales, truly exist?

“By… any chance,” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “Was I… ever a victim?”

“Don’t even wish for it, Tiara,” he said firmly, his gaze sharp. “You haven’t gone through the same terrifying experiences that many mortal women have. Just make sure not to get injured. If a vampire catches the scent of blood, some of them… can’t control themselves. They bite. Some are naturally wicked... mischievous at best, predatory at worst. For some, harassing women has become a twisted pastime.”

I clenched my lips shut, trembling slightly. The thought of being bitten by a vampire, of feeling their fangs sink into my skin, was horrifying.

“We are surrounded by darkness,” he added. “Evil, really... There are still people who curse the vampires, but most have come to accept them. They’ve allied with the healers, and since then, death among mortals has lessened. Werewolves, on the other hand… they’re feared even more now because some have turned to black magic to gain stronger powers.”

“It’s… terrifying to live here, Grandpa…” I muttered, barely able to lift my head.

“You’re always afraid, Tiara…” he said gently. “I can feel your fear every time you leave this house. And did you know… I didn’t see you for nearly three months? Then yesterday… you finally returned... pale, dazed, and weak. I learned you hadn’t been fed in two days… your cruel masters forced you to work through your exhaustion. When you got home... You barely touched your lunch. Then… you disappeared. For hours. Until I found you… by the horse stable…”

His voice cracked. I turned to look at him. Grandpa Alfred’s eyes were brimming with tears.

“You were lifeless when I found you,” he whispered. “No breath... I thought… I thought I’d lost you. But then... by some miracle... you woke up. And I’m just… I’m just so grateful. I thought you had left me.”

I gritted my teeth, fighting back the truth. I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t reveal that I wasn’t really Tiara Thornells… that I was merely inhabiting this girl’s body, living a second life through her. I didn’t want to confuse or hurt him. So instead, I smiled faintly and took his hand.

“Don’t worry, Grandpa,” I said softly. “You’ll help me get my memories back.”

He nodded, smiling through his tears, completely unaware of the stranger who now wore his granddaughter’s face.

But it's impossible for me to remember anything. So instead, I’ll dig through everything I can, just to get to know Tiara more and uncover the mysteries that surround this world.

I still don’t know if this second life of mine is a blessing. All I know is, I’m starting to feel anxious about where I am now.

After finishing every last bit of food on the table, I decided to step outside for a short walk. I needed the fresh air... and I hadn’t felt the warmth of the sun on my skin.

Just a few steps away from Grandpa Alfred’s house, I heard voices calling out to me.

“Tiara! H-How are you feeling?”

“Are you alright now, Tiara?”

“Tiara, my good child! How are you feeling!”

I noticed several figures running toward me from a distance. I stopped walking as they reached me, each of them breathing heavily from their rush, worry etched deeply into their faces.

“Don’t your memories come back yet?!” asked a woman. “It’s me... Betty!” she said, pointing to herself with emphasis. “And this is my husband,” she added, motioning to the man standing at her side.

“I’m Theodore!” her husband, likely in his thirties. “I used to give you free rides whenever you were headed to the Hawkins Manor... where you worked!”

“My name is Lucas,” said a third man, his voice softer. “Tiara, you used to visit my orchard often. You always asked for the sweetest grapes, plums, and peaches... They were your favorites.”