Crimson Legacy

Chapter 2:

The morning after the attack dawned with an eerie silence. The once pristine courtyard was now a macabre canvas of crimson stains and scattered weaponry. The air, thick with the metallic scent of blood, hung heavy over the estate.

"Just who did you mess with this time to make someone send veteran mercenaries to haunt you?" Sarah asked Damien, her voice mixed with curiosity, "Your dealings with those people are getting out of hand and it's painting our family name in red,"

Damien sat on the plush leather couch, legs crossed, an almost bored expression on his face. His dark hair fell messily over his forehead, but his striking blue eyes gleamed with defiance. He picked at a loose thread on his shirt, refusing to meet Sarah's fiery gaze.

"Look at me when I’m talking to you!" she snapped, slamming her hand on the table. "Are you trying to ruin the legacy our ancestors have spent years building with your reckless business by mingling with societal pests? We have businesses, properties, influence across continents. Why would you need to involve yourself with the underworld mafias?"

Damien finally looked up, a smirk playing on his lips. " All the wealth and fame isn’t enough, Sarah. Power and fear are also crucial. The kind that brings even the greatest to their knees. I doubt they'd come back after what they've just witnessed."

Sarah’s heart clenched at his words. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. "If Mom and Dad were still alive, would you behave this way? They built this family’s empire with integrity. They would be ashamed of___."

"Don't bring them into this," Damien snarled, his composure finally cracking. "They were weak. They had everything they needed to instill great fear into anyone that would come against them, but all because of their pathetic belief to regaining world peace they ignored it. Look where it led them."

Sarah’s face softened. "That wasn’t their fault, Damien. They believed in doing things the right way. And besides, they left Palmer and the rest so they could look after us. They cared for our safety and wanted to make sure we're in safest hands."

"They didn't have to!!!" Damien yelled in complete rage that soon followed by a heavy silence. The air was thick with unresolved grief and anger.

Palmer, who had been standing quietly in the corner, finally stepped forward. "Enough," he said, his deep voice commanding attention. "This fighting won’t bring your parents back. And it___."

"Spare me the lecture Palmer. It's not suited for you," Damien cut Palmer off as he stormed out of their sight with boiling rage.

Sarah and Palmer could only watch as Damien left the room in anger. "He's still affected by what happened to our parents, isn't he? He completely changed after hearing the news, shutting himself out for two months, grieving about mom and dad," Sarah said, her eyebrows slanted in sadness, eyes filled with tears. "Please, Palmer, he's the only family I have left. I don't want to lose him too, I don't want to lose Damien, please." Sarah, already crying.

Palmer, a spark of memory flashed in his head as he saw a similar scenario of an old descendant with a striking resemblance to Sarah pleading to him to save someone.

"Don't worry Sarah, I'm sure he'd come by soon enough. I'll go talk to him. But before that, I'll ask the cleaners to take care of the compound. You should get more rest or you'll get sick," he said with a warm smile, so pleasant and filled with assurance. His silver hair and scarlet eyes glowing with elegance as the sunlight struck on it, accentuating the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the unwavering strength in his gaze. For a fleeting moment, the ageless vampire seemed almost human, making it hard to believe that this young elegant and handsome man is actually a creature born of darkness.

Meanwhile, in a dark room The lone mercenary who had escaped Palmer’s brutal attack stood trembling. His face was twisted in fear and rage as he spoke to the massive figure standing before him. "It was him," the mercenary rasped. "I swear it. He hasn’t aged a day." He touched the jagged mark running across his face. " I'll never forget the man who gave me this scar on my face."

Behind the desk, another silhouette emerged from the gloom, a figure shrouded in shadows. His hands, gnarled and scarred, rested lightly on the cool surface.

"One could see why the young lad was so confident to run to his estate and hide like the cub he is," the figure smirked. "But you're not the only one with monsters as pet." Sunlight, a timid intruder, filtered through a narrow, grimy window, casting long, dancing shadows across the polished mahogany desk then to the figure's left face to expose a scar on his left cheek. "Any guardian in possession of the relic is just a sitting beacon to the other factions. Words would soon spread across the others, I wonder how long you'd last, Damien Montgomery."