Leon remained silent for a while. Does she truly believe that I am a monster? It... is obvious.

Removing this thought from his mind, he tried to focus on whether she had any injuries. He asked, "Are you hurt?"

Ophelia looked at her hands, trying to see through her tears. There seemed to be no remarkable damage to her. She shook her head, not feeling any physical sensation at that time.

He sighed and told the whimpering girl, "Let's get going." When he got no response from her, he realized she did not want to talk to him.

Ophelia kept looking at the corpses and back at her bloodstained hands. She closed her eyes, exhausted from the fighting.

"Come on, it will be alright," Leon said as he picked her up in his arms. Ophelia gasped at first, then rested her head on his shoulder while he walked towards home.

They entered through the backdoor of the house while the woods began to get darker. By that time, Ophelia had fallen asleep in Leon's arms.

Grace, hearing the noise, came out of her room. She gasped lightly seeing Ophelia and Leon and their bloodstained hands and faces. "What happened to you?" she asked.

Leon gave Ophelia to her and said, "Mother, see if she has any injuries."

As Grace took Ophelia from him, she noticed the cut in Leon's arm. "Leon, you're bleeding."

He took his cloak off and said while heading to the kitchen, "I will take care of that myself."

***

The night had fallen. Grace had already left for her work at the sanatorium after tending Ophelia's wounds. Leon sat on the couch in the darkness, flipping through the pages of The Foretelling of Destruction. He looked for an explanation behind Ophelia's sudden unnatural behaviour.

From what he had read so far, he was sure that Ophelia's instincts had begun to take control of her. He had to be more careful from then on. If she cannot control herself, dangerous accidents might happen.

With that thought, he buried his head in his hand, letting out a sigh of frustration.

Just then, he heard the faint footsteps of the girl, who stepped out of the bedroom and stared at him. Sensing her presence, Leon turned his head up to see a pale girl in white, gazing at him with eyes full of unsaid words.

The girl stood motionless, her hand gripping the handle of the door. She stood among the shadows, her messy brown hair flowing all the way down to her waist. Her eyes remained half covered with the fringe of hair that fell from her forehead, making her look enigmatic. She whispered with a tired voice, "Sir, are you reading that again?"

Leon closed the book in an instant as if it were a reflex. It had been a while since he had stopped letting her read the book. He would only read it to her whenever he thought it was important. It made her upset, but he had no choice.

Ophelia walked up to him and stood under the dim moonlight. "You... you are wondering why I did what I did today, right?" Her voice was tainted with weakness, sorrow, and especially desperation, and Leon did not know what she was desperate about.

He sighed. "Ophelia, don't think about it."

The girl sat on the floor right beside him, leaning against the couch and hugging her legs. She stared at her palms, both covered in a white strip of bandage which would allow the cuts and blisters to heal. Flashbacks of the recent morning and thoughts of guilt infested her mind. I killed so many people with these hands...

As the thoughts clouded her mind, she buried her face in her palms and let the tears flow. Perhaps she could never forgive herself, no matter what fate held for her.

"It could not be avoided. There is nothing we can do about it, Ophelia," Leon said, breaking the silence.

"But this guilt, I don't think I'll ever be free from this feeling. Don't you feel it, sir, every time you take someone's life?" she said as her breath hitched.

Leon took a deep breath and rested his head against the couch. Staring at the ceiling, he muttered, "I used to."

Ophelia gazed at him in disbelief. Turning her head away from him, she whispered, "It always surprises me how this... this killing leaves you so... unfazed."

At that instant, an owl came flying from the woods. It stood at the windowsill behind Leon.

Leon's face became grave as he noticed a piece of paper tied to its foot. He took the piece of paper and the owl flew away.

Ophelia looked at it with an open mouth, startled. She had never seen him receive something like that. "What is this, sir?"

He unfolded the paper, slowly and hesitantly. The message written in it made him frown.

Meet me right now.

Leon knew who it was from.

Before Ophelia could see what was written in it, he tore the paper into pieces and tossed it out of the window. He stood up and walked towards the storage room.

The girl followed him as he put his cloak on and covered himself in a magical disguise. She asked with raised eyebrows, "Where are you going, sir?"

Leon did not answer that question. Instead, he said, "You were right. We vampires do not have humanity. But we don't kill for fun; we kill to survive. After all, we are not human, we never were."

With that, he walked out of the house, leaving Ophelia alone in the darkness. Ophelia stood still for a moment before heading back to the bedroom. She lay on the bed, letting a new surge of thoughts consume her mind.

***

Leon made his way out of the woods and entered a quiet road within the capital city of Nordlys. Just as he approached the green dome of the witch named Danielle Gray, he knew some eyes were on him. He knew he was being watched from that moment on, even though he was in disguise.

No sooner had he knocked on the door than the witch opened it. Danielle tugged on the sleeve of his shirt and pulled him in, coldly saying, "Come in."

The door slammed shut behind him and he dropped his disguise. Frowning, he said, "What is the matter, Dania? Why did you call me at this hour in such an odd way?"

Danielle sighed, discontentment filling her breath. "The king wants you to stop killing his men."

Leon sat on the couch, crossing his arms. "Is that so? Tell Evan to stop sending his men to me. They almost killed me this morning."

"Was Ophelia with you?" she asked calmly.

"Yes. She got rid of some of them for me, actually."

His words startled her; her eyes widened. "What are you saying? That is so sudden."

"I know. There is no telling when she might pull off something like this again."

"What does the book say?"

Leon took a deep breath. "I do not want to rely on the book completely. I can only be more careful about her."

Danielle crossed his arms. "You will never change."

Leon rolled his eyes and stood. "I have to go. Tell Evan to stop sending his men to look for me, because if they keep on coming, I must get rid of them, for myself, and for her."

The witch frowned. "I am sure he does not want to hurt you."

By then Leon had put his disguise on and was ready to leave. He stopped in front of the door hearing her voice. Turning behind, he said, "If that is the case, he would never send soldiers who were skilled in both warfare and magic to take me down."

He took his leave and strode on the path back home. The streets around Danielle's home were busy and loud but none of it was of Leon's concern. His mind dwelled on something else.

If Evan does not want to kill me, why did they attack me like this? They definitely came to get rid of me. If Ophelia did not do anything, my life would have been at stake. Something is wrong...

He suddenly thought about Ophelia when he was no longer under the watch of the guards. As he walked through the murky woods on the way back home, he thought, I should get back soon. She is alone... and is probably having a rough time.

Leon entered Grace's house through the backdoor. Hanging his cloak on the hanger by the wall, she looked for Ophelia. She was nowhere in the kitchen.

He peeked at the bedroom while moving around the small space. Someone slept on the bed, under a blanket. Giving a sigh of relief, he went to the living room and sat on the couch.

The room was dark, yet he picked a newspaper from the table in front of him and began to read. He could not concentrate on it for long. As soon as he heard footsteps getting louder, he looked up.

Ophelia stood in front of him and gazed with a hint of curiosity in her bleary red eyes. Leon kept the newspaper aside and said, "You were awake?"

He nearly stuttered, taken aback by how she looked. She was different; silent, pensive and wounded inside, unlike her usual self. The moon still shone dully over her face, the light forcing its way through the clouds to reach her. Her skin glowed; she impersonated a ghostly being as a damsel in white, moving in the darkness.

"Yes, I heard your footsteps when you came," she said as she paced around the room, tracing her fingertips along the books on the small shelves.

Leon gaped at her without a word, his shoulders tightening at the sight of her.

The girl slowly turned around to face him. Her eyes were wet. From within the shadows, she uttered with quivering lips, "Sir, are you afraid of me? Do you think I will cause you harm?"

Her words were followed by a moment of silence. Ophelia waited for his answer until she could not hold her tears back anymore. Puzzled and in disarray, Leon said, "No, Ophelia. Why would I be afraid of you?"

He wondered what could make her ask such a question. Do I look like I am afraid of her?

Ophelia walked towards him and came under the moonlight. Her breath was unsteady, as though she was trying not to sob. But glistening tears rolled from her eyes, flowing like a river, staining her cheeks. "But... but I think... you're lying."

Leon sighed. He needed to admit the truth. "Come here."

The girl went a little closer and sat beside him. Leon then murmured, "Yes, I am afraid of the things you might do when you cannot control yourself. But I know you can never do me any harm."

Ophelia looked at him with widened eyes, not having expected such a response from him. She closed her eyes and rested against the couch. "I don't know... I'm scared."

The man beside her felt uneasy seeing her. He did not want to see her so miserable but had no words to comfort her either. Nevertheless, he tried. "If you didn't kill those soldiers, I could have died. They were too many for me to deal with alone."

Rubbing her eyes, Ophelia looked at him. Frowning, she said, "But you dealt with others before, even with werewolves."

Her words made his lips curl up into a little smile. "I know, but they weren't as powerful. The werewolves did not use magic, neither did the others. But the soldiers we dealt with today – they were skilled men."

He leaned towards her and continued, "I owe you my life. It is something that I have been meaning to tell you for a while."

Ophelia gazed at him, not knowing what to say. I did try to save him...