The Lost Princess

“Everly! Get your lazy ass up! I’m hungry!” My aunt’s grating voice echoes up the stairs, jolting me awake.

I groan, tossing off the thin, scratchy blanket before scrambling to get dressed.

That dream again. It’s always the same, and it’s been haunting me for as long as I can remember.

When I was little, my parents told me that dreams are glimpses of our future.

I shudder, imagining facing a beast like that in reality.

“Everly, now!” My aunt’s voice booms up the stairs. I quickly pull on the faded brown dress that’s folded on the chair in the corner.

It’s one of three outfits I own, all hand-me-downs from my Aunt Lutessa.

She gets a monthly payment from the accounts my parents left for me. The money is supposed to be for my needs.

But she insists it’s barely enough to cover food and bills, to keep the lights on and a roof over our heads.

I know she’s lying. Every time she gets paid, she comes home with bags full of new clothes and jewelry for herself.

I glance at my reflection in the cracked mirror propped against the wall and sigh before pulling my long, dark hair into a ponytail.

I rush down the stairs and into the kitchen, where I find my aunt sitting at the table, engrossed in her cell phone.

I have no idea what she’s doing, but I’m sure it’s not important.

From what I can see, she’s scrolling through one of her social media accounts.

“Finally, you useless, ungrateful brat,” she mutters when she sees me.

“I’m sorry, Aunt Tessa. I overslept,” I mumble, lowering my gaze. I try my best to stay on her good side, or at least not make her any angrier.

“I don’t want excuses, you little slut! Just make me some goddamn breakfast so I can get to work! Some of us actually have to earn a living!”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry ma’am,” I respond quickly, pulling ingredients out of the fridge.

I carry everything to the stove and start making her a ham and cheese omelette with tomato and spinach.

My stomach growls and my mouth waters as I watch the food cooking. I wish I could have some.

My aunt only lets me eat her leftovers, which usually isn’t much. I try to sneak what I can, but I have to be careful.

She once caught me eating her leftovers from the fridge, and I got a beating. I was sore and could barely move for days.

I hate my life now. I used to have a great one. My parents were wonderful and loving.

They always made me laugh and told me how much they loved me. They comforted me and hugged me when I was hurt or sad.

We were so close. Then, six years ago, they were killed in a car accident.

I was supposed to be with them that night but ended up staying with a friend instead. Now, I regret not being there every day. I miss them.

After they died, I was forced to live with Aunt Lutessa. That’s when I started having the dream about the wolf.

I miss my old life. I miss my big, beautiful house with the large garden where I used to play. I had friends, parents; I was happy.

“Stop daydreaming, you fat cow!” Aunt Tessa yells, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I slide the omelette onto a plate and bring it to her, then pour her a cup of coffee with her favorite creamer and a splash of milk.

I start to leave to begin my chores for the day, but she stops me.

“Tonight, I’m expecting company. I want this house to be spotless. And while he’s here, you’re to stay in your room. Don’t make a sound,” she commands, her finger jabbing the air in front of my face.

I nod quickly, then hurry away.

She often has different men over, taking her out, then returning to her bedroom.

Meanwhile, I’m tucked away in my makeshift room, which is really just the small attic space above the living room.

I spend the rest of the day cleaning. Dusting, sweeping, mopping, doing the dishes and laundry, cleaning the bathrooms, and everything else.

I can’t give my aunt another reason to hit me. I’m just wrapping up when I hear the doorbell.

Startled, I glance at the front door, wondering if I should answer it.

She usually doesn’t want her “guests” to know I’m here, but I’m sure she’ll be angry if they leave because I didn’t let them in.

I hesitate for a moment before sighing and heading for the door.

I open it to find a man standing there with a dark goatee and mustache.

He’s balding, and only a few inches taller than me.

The only thing that stands out about him are his eyes. They’re a bright red and seem to glow, even in the daylight.

His eyes narrow as they scan my body, making me feel sick.

The corner of his thin mouth lifts into a smirk, and my body tenses.

I don’t like the way this guy is looking at me, and now I wish I hadn’t opened the door.

I close it slightly, ready to slam it shut if I need to.

Standing tall and trying to sound confident, I ask, “Can I help you?”

“I’m here for Lutessa. Didn’t know she had a maid…,” he starts, stepping closer. I fight the urge to step back.

“She’s not home yet,” I reply, then pause, unsure of what to say next. Should I ask him to leave a message? Or to come back later?

Should I offer him a drink? Should I let him wait in the living room?

I don’t like the idea of being alone with him, but I’m not sure what Lutessa will do if I send him away.

The man looks me up and down, then licks his lips. When he opens his mouth, I notice his teeth are all very sharp.

“That’s fine. I’ll wait,” he says, pushing past me into the front room. I stumble backward.

He catches me by the waist and pulls me close. I cringe at the smell of stale cigarettes and something else I can’t identify. Something sickly sweet.

He holds on longer than necessary, and I quickly wriggle out of his grasp and step back.

“O—Okay, y—you can just wait in h—here, then,” I stutter, my nerves getting the best of me.

He smirks at me, seeming to enjoy making me nervous.

He saunters toward me as I continue to back away until I hit the wall.

His hands come up on either side of me, trapping me as he leans in and whispers near my ear.

“I can think of a few ways to pass the time…,” he starts, his hand moving up my thigh and under the hem of my dress.

I grab his wrist, stopping its progress, and his eyes meet mine.

“Stop,” I say firmly.

“You smell delicious,” he murmurs, pulling his hand from my grip.

“I’m not interested,” I start, taking a deep breath to steady myself.

“Lutessa will be home soon, and you can wait on the sofa,” I tell him sternly, then turn to walk away.

He grabs my wrist and pulls me back. Instinctively, I lash out with my free hand.

A loud smack echoes through the small house, followed by a tense silence.

My eyes widen as his face hardens and he glares at me. “You little bitch!” He advances on me again, and I turn to run.

My head is jerked back as he grabs a handful of my hair. I cry out as he slams me into the wall.

Dark spots dance in my vision as I crumple to my knees.

Blindly, I reach out, trying to push myself up, but his fist connects with my face and I fall back.

I groan as I writhe on the floor in pain. “Please!” I beg. “Stop!”

He ignores me, rolling me onto my back and straddling my hips.

“Oh, shut up, you little whore. Just give me what I want,” he demands, grabbing the neck of my dress and ripping it open, revealing the plain bra I’m wearing underneath.

He bends over me, pushing my head to one side to expose my neck. I feel his cool breath on my skin.

I reach up, trying to push him away, and my hand lands on a heavy ceramic ashtray on the entry table.

I smash it over his head and he falls off me.

I scramble to my feet to run, but his hand shoots out and grabs my ankle, tripping me up.

Just then, the front door opens. Aunt Tessa walks in and freezes when she sees us.

“What the hell is going on here?!” she yells, storming over as the man scrambles to his feet.

As I struggle to stand, my aunt yanks me up by the arm.

“Are you coming on to Dean, you worthless tramp?!” she shrieks, shaking me roughly.

“N—NO! H—he tried to rape me!”

“LIAR!” she screams, shaking me again.

“Who would want a fat, worthless whore like you? You’re nothing! Time you learned that!”

She hoists me up in front of her before slapping me across the face.

The sting is immediate. My hand flies to my cheek and tears well up in my eyes.

Her face softens a bit before she turns to the scum who’s just standing there, watching the scene unfold.

“Dean, wait for me in the car. I need to teach this slut a lesson before our date. I’ll be right out.”

He shoots me a menacing look and nods before turning to leave.

I wipe my tear-streaked cheeks as I hear the door close. My aunt heads to the coat closet and returns with a belt.

“Please, Aunt Tessa,” I beg her. “I’m n—not lying! He f—forced his way in. H—he hit me…”

“Why do you always ruin my life?!” she screams over me as she brings the belt down on me like a whip.

I instinctively raise my arms to shield myself, and the belt bites into my forearms.

She grabs me and tosses me onto the floor, and I land on my stomach before she strikes me with the belt again.

She hits me repeatedly as I curl up on the floor, doing my best to protect my head and neck from her attack.

When she finally tires, she drops the belt on the floor and leans over me.

“When I get back, this mess better be cleaned up! You hear me, you lazy slut?!”

I start to sob, managing to give her a slight nod.

She spins on her heel and leaves me lying in a heap on the floor, now covered in bruises and cuts.

I stay there as my body is wracked with gut-wrenching sobs. My whole body is slick and sticky with blood.

It hurts to move, but I don’t want another beating.

After what feels like an eternity, I manage to get up and clean the mess before crawling into the shower to rinse off.

Eventually, I collapse onto my bed, which is just an old, dirty mattress on the floor. I curl up and pull my scratchy blanket over me.

Every movement is slow and painful, and if it weren’t for the sheer exhaustion I’m feeling right now, I’m not sure I’d be able to fall asleep.

Luckily for me, I’m too tired, and darkness soon takes over.

I don’t know how long I sleep before my aunt’s voice fills the room.

“Get up, Everly! Get dressed! We’ve got to get going!” she orders.

My eyes flutter open and I look around, confused. It’s still dark outside.

“What’s happening? Where are we going?” I ask sleepily, still trying to make sense of what’s going on.

“Just hurry up and do as I say, you worthless brat!” she snaps before slamming the door and stomping back downstairs.

My body screams in protest as I force myself up and into a dingy white dress.

I slip on my shoes and head downstairs, where I find Aunt Tessa waiting by the door with her coat on.

Her foot taps impatiently on the floor, and she looks up at me as I start to descend the stairs from the attic.

“About damn time! Hurry up! We don’t have all night!”

She opens the front door and gestures to her car parked out front. “Aun—”

“Shut up! Just come on! Get in!” I shake my head and climb into the passenger seat, buckling up.

I rest my forehead against the window as my aunt gets into the driver's seat.

The cold glass feels good against my skin, and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath.

“You know, Dean is a very important man,” Aunt Tessa says as she pulls out of the driveway.

I nod numbly.

“He’s very well connected. Foreign, too. He’s from Eastern Europe.”

I nod again, wondering why she’s telling me this.

“The moment he met you, he knew you were no good. So last night on our date, he proposed a solution to make everyone happy.”

I glance at Aunt Tessa, nerves bubbling in my stomach.

The smug expression on her pudgy face doesn’t bode well; I know that much.

“Wh- what do you mean?” I ask, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice.

But she doesn’t respond, only grins wickedly.

We drive for a while, and my aunt refuses to tell me anything else about this so-called plan. All I know is that it’s probably bad for me. Very bad.

I drift into an uneasy sleep filled with wolves and whispers and men with glowing red eyes.

When I wake up, I have no idea where we are, but I see it’s been three hours since we left the house. Where is she taking me? What’s happening?

My nerves instantly return. I sit up straighter and start looking around, trying to spot any signs or landmarks that I recognize.

Soon, we’re entering a big city, and she’s navigating through the streets.

My anxiety continues to rise, and I keep trying to find out where we’re going. Each time, she tells me to shut up or to leave her alone.

My stomach churns. The buildings around us seem to get more and more dilapidated the farther we go.

Finally, we stop in front of a nondescript brick warehouse with a solid, black door. My aunt drags me up to it and rings the doorbell.

A large man in a tight black T-shirt and jeans answers with his arms crossed over his chest. “State your name and business,” he says gruffly.

“Lutessa Andrews. I have a meeting with Lord Vlad Lacroix. Dean Feratu sent me with a new one for him,” she states, keeping a tight grip on my arm.

The guard nods and steps back, letting us in before leading us down a dark hallway.

It looks like any old warehouse except for all the sounds I can hear from rooms I can’t see.

Loud music blares through the walls as if there’s a club on the other side.

As we walk, I can hear moans and screams from various rooms. With each step, my sense of dread grows. Where the hell are we?

We're ushered through a pair of double doors, and the atmosphere changes instantly. The carpet underfoot is a plush, deep red, and the walls are a stark contrast of black and white.

We finally reach a door at the end of the corridor. The man leading us knocks, and a voice from inside beckons, “Enter.”

The door swings open, and we're motioned inside. It closes with a soft click behind us.

A man is seated behind a grand mahogany desk, lounging in a high-backed chair. His skin is an unnatural shade of pale, his hair a slicked-back black. He's undeniably attractive with his tall, lean frame and piercing gray eyes, but there's something unsettling about him.

As we enter, the corners of his mouth curl into a sinister grin. He rises from his desk and circles around to greet us.

My aunt nudges me forward, and the man begins to circle me, his gaze sweeping over my body.

“So, this is the girl?” he murmurs, and I'm unsure if he's expecting an answer.

“Yes. This is the one Brother Feratu mentioned,” she confirms.

He nods, circling back to face me. “Good. She’ll do nicely.” He strides back to his desk, picking up a small brown bag and handing it to my aunt. “And your payment. As agreed.”

“Thank you, sir,” Aunt Tessa responds.

I turn to her, puzzled. “Payment for what?”

“He’ll explain. You’re his problem now.” With that, she turns on her heel and leaves, abandoning me with this strange man.

I look at him, waiting for him to fill in the blanks.

“Isn’t it obvious, my dear?” he taunts. I furrow my brows, trying to make sense of it all. It almost seems like my aunt just sold me to this man. But that can’t be right. Can it?

The man grins. “Very astute, little one. You’re correct.” My eyes widen as I turn back to him. I hadn’t voiced that thought.

“Correct again,” he says, his grin widening.

“But... how? Why? This is illegal! It’s—” I stammer, trying to comprehend what's happening.

“Human laws are irrelevant to me,” he retorts, his wicked smile revealing two sharp fangs.

Then I notice his eyes. They’re glowing a fiery red, just like Aunt Tessa’s date.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Lord Lacroix says, advancing on me like a predator closing in on its prey.

“There are all sorts of creatures lurking in the shadows. Creatures that will drink from you, eat you, tear you apart. Monsters you’ve only seen in your nightmares, my dear.”

His eyes glow brighter, and a gasp escapes my lips before everything fades to black.