LIGHTNOVELWORLD Chapter 26: chp
My name is Jonathan Rockwood, and—no matter how unbelievable it might sound—I am a vampire. I wasn't born this way, of course. I used to be a normal guy. Well, as normal as an accountant with a penchant for whiskey could be.
It all began after a particularly reckless night out. I had been drinking more than I should have, stumbling through the streets, too drunk to care where my feet were leading me. When I woke up the next morning, it wasn't in a jail cell or my usual hangover haven on my couch. No, I woke up in my bed, my apartment door wide open, and a sharp, aching pain radiating from my neck.
At first, I thought I'd been mugged or maybe bitten by some rabid animal. Then I saw the note. It was scrawled on a scrap of paper lying on the floor next to my bed:
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*Hi~!*
*So, I hit you with my car when you were drunkenly swaying in the streets. You were going to die, so I turned you into a vampire!! Cool, right?!*
*I left a few packs of blood on your table.*
*Oh, also, don't walk in the sun. Good luck! Bye-bye!*
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I stared at the note in disbelief, muttering, "What the hell kind of prank is this?" But as I tossed the note aside, a beam of sunlight crept through the curtains, landing on my hand. The pain was instant and excruciating, like a thousand needles piercing my skin. I yelped, pulling my hand back, the faint smell of burning flesh hanging in the air.
That was when it hit me. This wasn't a prank. I was thirsty, but not for water. The packs of blood on the table were suddenly the most enticing thing I'd ever seen. I tore one open without a second thought and drank it down like a man dying of thirst. The relief was immediate, but with it came a grim realization: I really was a vampire.
Adjusting to my new reality wasn't easy. I had more strength and speed than I'd ever imagined, but the hunger was a constant gnawing presence. And then there was the immortality. I'd always looked younger than my age, but now it was ridiculous. Fifty years old, and I still looked like the man I was twenty years ago. It might sound like a blessing, but for someone who worked in a mundane office surrounded by aging colleagues, it was a red flag.
Accounting didn't seem sustainable anymore, not when I needed blood to survive and rent to pay. That's when I found a job working as a nurse in an underground fighting ring. It was seedy, sure, but no one asked questions about my nocturnal habits, and I had access to more blood than I needed.
As I got deeper into this shadowy world, I discovered I wasn't the only vampire around. There were others, wealthy ones living lavish lives in secret. Their money, their power, their freedom—it all made me sick with envy. Determined to infiltrate their world, I took a second job as a waiter for one of their exclusive yacht parties. I figured it would be a good way to make connections, maybe learn a thing or two about how to rise in their ranks.
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The night of the party was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. The yacht itself was a gleaming masterpiece of luxury, all polished wood and gold accents, floating serenely under the moonlight. The guests were the most stunning and intimidating crowd I'd ever seen. Vampires, every one of them, their beauty and poise only adding to the surreal atmosphere.
Then she appeared.
The moment she stepped onto the stage, the air seemed to shift. She was otherworldly, with deep blue-purple irises that shimmered under the soft lights. Her dark hair framed a face so flawless it made my heart ache—if my heart even worked the way it used to. But it wasn't just her looks that held me captive; it was her voice. When she began to sing, everything else faded away. The melody was haunting and ethereal, each note pulling me deeper under her spell.
I forgot I was supposed to be working. The tray of glasses in my hand wavered as I stood there, frozen, staring at her like everyone else. She had the crowd in the palm of her hand, every vampire in the room utterly entranced. It was as if she had tapped into something primal, something even we couldn't resist.
Who was she? Why did her presence affect me so deeply? I had so many questions, but there was one thing I knew for certain: this wasn't just another singer. She was something more, and if I wanted to survive—or thrive—in this world, I needed to find out who she was.
As her song ended, a wave of applause broke the spell, and I snapped back to reality. My tray wobbled precariously, but I caught it just in time. My first night at work, and I was already messing up. Great. But as I glanced back at her, my resolve hardened. I had stumbled into this world by accident, but now that I was here, I wasn't going to let it swallow me whole.
If the rich and powerful vampires could thrive, so could I. And maybe, just maybe, she would be the key to my survival.
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In the sub-dimension, the night was just as dark and heavy as it had been in the world they left behind. The dark sky stretched endlessly, casting an eerie glow over the unfamiliar waters and the dense forested land that bordered it.
As Hecate finished her chilling words to the trapped audience, a card shimmered into existence from her system inventory, floating momentarily before her. She caught it effortlessly, reading its title aloud with a sharp, commanding tone.
"Play Sky Dancer."
Sky-blue gloves materialized on her hands, glowing faintly with an ethereal light. A gust of wind surged around her, lifting her gracefully into the air. Her movements were fluid and precise, her commanding presence even more striking as she floated above the trembling crowd.
High in the sky, she activated one of her most formidable abilities: Hive Mind. The skill resonated across the sub-dimension, a silent call to the dragons under her control. Within moments, the beating of massive wings filled the air as dragons from every corner of the sub-dimension responded to her summons.
Descending from the skies, she landed with practiced ease atop Skyrend, her favorite dragon. The creature let out a deep, guttural roar that reverberated through the night, silencing even the boldest whispers of resistance.
Hecate's eyes gleamed with purpose as she dismissed the Sky Dancer card, the blue gloves vanishing in a flash. She raised another card and spoke its command with cold precision.
"Play Sinking Shadow."
In its place, a dark, ominous glove enveloped her hand, pulsating with a shadowy energy that seemed to writhe and twist of its own accord. Hecate extended her arm, and the shadows around her seemed to respond, spreading like living tendrils.
Through the Hive Mind connection, she issued a direct order to the Death Song dragons, their glowing forms shimmering in the crimson sky. The creatures obeyed immediately, releasing streams of their signature solidifying liquid. The sticky substance shot across the battlefield, entrapping anyone in its path in hardened cocoons.
Hecate herself descended into the fray, using her Sinking Shadow skill to augment her assault. The shadows bent and writhed, binding those who resisted and pulling them down with an almost predatory hunger. The liquid and the shadows worked in tandem, leaving no one untouched.
The humans and vampires alike were thrown into chaos, unsure of what was happening. Those who attempted to fight back found their efforts futile. The shadows were immaterial, impervious to their blows, and the dragons were too powerful to be challenged. One by one, the defiant fell, pinned in place by the overwhelming combination of Hecate's shadows and the dragons' liquid traps.
When the struggle finally ceased, Hecate issued another silent command. Her dragons descended upon the immobilized captives, lifting them with practiced care and carrying them to the land below.
Amid the eerie stillness, Hecate strode purposefully across the battlefield, her boots clicking softly against the now-solidified terrain. She approached the man she had spoken to earlier, her expression calm but cold.
The man, struggling against his bonds, glared at her. His voice was filled with anger and desperation as he shouted,
"You—you're a witch! Aren't you afraid of the Ministry of Magic noticing your spells? Let me go at once!"
Hecate tilted her head slightly, a mocking smile playing on her lips. Her voice was soft yet laced with unmistakable menace as she replied,
"Did you enjoy the show? Hmm? I told you, didn't I? Enjoy it like it's your last."
Her words hung in the air, a chilling reminder that for many, this would indeed be their final act. She turned away from the man, her gaze sweeping over the immobilized crowd as she prepared for the next phase of her plan.
As Hecate walked through the sea of cocoons, the sound of her boots echoed faintly. Her sharp gaze shifted from one trapped figure to another, categorizing them with the efficiency of someone sorting groceries at a market. Her demeanor was calm, almost detached, as if this task was just another chore on her list.
Her eyes eventually landed on a vampire wearing a waiter's uniform, his face pale and panicked. She reached down, intending to toss him into the pile with the others when he suddenly blurted out, his voice trembling,
"Wait! Wait a minute, please! I... I'm a good vampire! I swear I've never killed anyone! I just needed some cash, that's all. Please, don't kill me!"
Hecate paused, raising an eyebrow in amused curiosity. A smirk danced on her lips as she regarded him. "What makes you think I care?" she replied, her voice dripping with mockery. She stepped closer, tilting her head as she took a good look at him.
The vampire looked young, with golden hair that fell slightly into his face and brownish-red eyes that shimmered with a mix of fear and desperation. His earnest expression and trembling demeanor betrayed his sincerity, and despite herself, Hecate found him oddly amusing.
Leaning closer, her voice softened to a playful tone. "Say, do you think I'm a good witch or a bad one, hmm?"
The vampire gulped, his voice shaky but hopeful. "G-good? I... I hope?"
Hecate laughed at his response, a melodic sound that seemed to unnerve him further. "Yes, yes, I'm a slightly good witch. So here's the deal: after I finish sorting my groceries, I'll remove your memories along with the humans' and send you on your merry way."
The vampire's face fell for a moment, then lit up again as he blurted out, "W-wait! I… I want to work under you, madam!"
Hecate's eyes widened slightly in surprise before her laughter erupted again, louder this time. "Hahaha! You're seriously entertaining, you know that?" She placed a hand on her chin as if deep in thought, then adjusted imaginary glasses with exaggerated seriousness.
"Let's see then, hmm... What qualifies you for this prestigious job, Mr.—?"
"Jonathan! Jonathan Rockwood," he stammered, trying to stand straighter despite his restrained state.
Hecate's smirk deepened. "Yes, Mr. Rockwood," she said, her tone mockingly formal. "Tell me, what makes you think you're cut out for this?"
"I… I worked as an accountant before I was turned! I'm strong, I'm loyal, and… and I'm good with numbers! I can manage finances, and I've never betrayed anyone! Please, give me a chance!"
Hecate tapped her chin thoughtfully, her smirk widening. "Hmm, I see. You've got guts, I'll give you that. How about this, then? I've got quite a few companies under my name—more than I can bother to manage. Why don't you handle them for me? Honestly, I'm too busy to care."
Jonathan's face lit up, his desperation giving way to gratitude. "Yes! Yes, please leave it to me, madam! I won't let you down!"
Hecate chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. "We'll see about that. For now, let me finish this tedious sorting."
With that, she returned to her task, separating the humans from the vampires. Once the sorting was complete, she used her magic to remove the memories of all the humans, ensuring they would remember nothing of the night's events. She released them back into the world, along with Jonathan, who remained by her side like an eager puppy.
As for the vampires, Hecate commanded her dragons to lift their cocoons and carry them to a cave deep in the sub-dimension. The creatures obeyed without question, their massive forms disappearing into the dark skies as they transported the immobilized vampires.
Hecate stood at the entrance of the cave, her gaze cold and calculating as she surveyed the scene. With a flick of her wrist, she sealed the cave with a temporary barrier, ensuring none of them could escape until she returned.
"Stay put, little bloodsuckers," she muttered, her voice laced with amusement. Turning on her heel, she glanced at Jonathan, who stood nervously at her side.
"Let's see if you're as useful as you claim, Mr. Rockwood. I hope you're ready for some hard work."
Jonathan nodded fervently. "I won't disappoint you, madam!"
Hecate smirked. "Good. You'd better not." With that, she walked away, the shadows curling around her like loyal pets as she disappeared into the night, Jonathan following closely behind.
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The morning sun filtered through the stained-glass windows of Hogwarts as Hecate walked briskly down the silent corridors. Her footsteps echoed in the emptiness, the castle still weeks away from being filled with the chatter of students. She wore a confident expression, her dark robes swaying with each step, and her thoughts were firmly fixed on the task ahead.
As she arrived at the door to Professor McGonagall's office, she paused momentarily, taking a deep breath. Knocking twice, she heard the familiar voice from within.
"Come in."
Hecate opened the door to find Professor McGonagall seated at her desk, her glasses perched on her nose as she reviewed some parchment. Upon noticing her visitor, McGonagall set the glasses aside and offered a warm, if somewhat curious, look.
"Oh, it's you, Hecate."
Hecate stepped forward, offering a polite smile. "Good morning, Professor. How have you been?"
McGonagall gave a small nod of acknowledgment. "Fine, thank you, dear. I presume you've come for the dragon blood, correct?"
"Ah, yes, that," Hecate confirmed with a slight smile.
The professor reached under her desk, retrieving two bottles filled with shimmering red liquid. She placed them on the desk and gestured for Hecate to take them.
"Here you are. Albus is still away, so I'll give these to you myself. Be cautious, though—this bottle contains the blood of an Eastern dragon, while the other contains the blood of a Western dragon. They have distinct properties and should not be used carelessly."
Hecate carefully picked up the bottles, examining them with fascination before tucking them safely into her enchanted bag. "Thank you very much, Professor."
McGonagall smiled kindly. "You're welcome, dear. Now, how are you? I imagine you've been keeping yourself busy with your… extracurricular activities?"
Hecate chuckled softly. "I'm fine, thank you, Professor. Actually, I came to discuss something else as well."
McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what might that be?"
Hecate's expression grew serious, her tone firm. "Professor, I believe I'm ready to undergo the Animagus ritual. If you have any of the materials required, I would greatly appreciate your assistance."
McGonagall froze, her eyes widening slightly in disbelief. "Wait, what?!" Her voice was a mix of astonishment and concern. "Hecate, do you even realize what you're saying? No one has ever attempted to become an Animagus at such a young age—twelve, for Merlin's sake! It's a dangerous, incredibly complex process. You could endanger your life!"
Hecate met her gaze with unwavering determination. "I understand the risks, Professor, but I've prepared myself for this. I'm certain I'm ready."
McGonagall studied her carefully, noting the seriousness in her eyes. It wasn't often that a student spoke with such conviction. If Hecate succeeded, it would make her the youngest Animagus in Britain, possibly the world—a feat that would surely cause a stir in the magical community. After a moment of silence, McGonagall sighed.
"You do realize this will require extensive preparation and precise execution, don't you? The ritual is not something to be taken lightly."
"I'm sure, Professor. Please don't worry about me."
McGonagall adjusted her glasses and began listing the materials needed. "The plants required for the Animagus ritual include Death's-head Hawk Moth Caterpillars, Common Ragwort, and a crystal phial of pure moonstone liquid. Additionally, I highly recommend the presence of someone who is already an Animagus to assist you—like myself."
Hecate hesitated for a moment before replying, "Professor… I don't think you'll be able to accompany me. I have my reasons."
McGonagall's brow furrowed. "Hecate, it's far too dangerous to attempt this alone. An assistant is crucial in case something goes wrong."
"I understand that, but I promise I won't be alone. I have someone who will help me."
McGonagall's sharp eyes narrowed, but Hecate's resolve was clear. After a few moments of tense silence, the professor relented with a sigh.
"Fine. If you're insistent on this, we'll start with gathering the materials. Fortunately, Madam Sprout is here today to check on the plants in the garden. Follow me."
Hecate's lips curled into a small smile as she followed McGonagall out of the office and down the hallway. The walk to the garden was quiet but not tense, the older witch occasionally glancing at her young student, silently marveling at her audacity and determination.
As they stepped into the garden, the smell of damp earth and herbs filled the air. Hecate's sharp eyes immediately scanned the area, noting the vibrant greenery and the faint hum of magical energy around the plants. Madam Sprout was bent over a patch of unusual flowers, her hands covered in dirt. She looked up at their approach, her round face lighting up in a cheerful grin.
"Minerva! And Hecate, too! What brings you both to the garden this morning?"
McGonagall gestured toward her companion. "Hecate here has a rather ambitious request. She's preparing for the Animagus ritual and requires some very specific plants."
Sprout's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "The Animagus ritual? At her age? My word!" She turned to Hecate, her expression both impressed and concerned. "You're a brave one, dear, but you'll need more than just bravery for this."
Hecate nodded respectfully. "I understand, Madam Sprout. That's why I'm here—to start with the preparations."
Sprout studied her for a moment before nodding. "Very well. Let's get to work, then. The plants you need are delicate, but I believe we have what you're looking for."
Under the guidance of both professors, Hecate began gathering the materials for her ambitious endeavor, her mind racing with anticipation. She knew the risks, but she was ready to face them head-on. After all, greatness required boldness, and Hecate Targaryen was nothing if not bold.