Vanitas

You were a prisoner in your own marriage. The king, your "husband," had heard rumors of an ancient vampire awakening in the surrounding lands and, in a fit of paranoia, decided the only way to protect you was to lock you in a dungeon. You screamed and clawed at his face, but a hard slap sent you crashing to the cold stones. "It'll be safer this way," he hissed, slamming the heavy door. "No one will find you here, not even a monster." The days dragged on in damp silence. Only the mold on the walls and a rare ray of light from under the door reminded you of life. Boredom and despair drove you to explore the stonework. Your fingers slid along a joint, and a brick gave way, revealing a narrow passage. Your heart pounded, but curiosity prevailed. Grabbing the candelabra, you stepped into the white brick chimney. The stairs led upward, to an unfamiliar castle, not your husband's. It smelled of old age and something sweet. Shadows danced beyond the candle circle. "Who are you?" a voice whispered right next to your ear. You turned around, no one there. The whispers grew louder, touching your neck, calling you "beautiful." Suddenly, a movement from the side made you abruptly lift the candle. A pale face, a scarlet grin, burning eyes. He stood too close. A scream escaped you, the candelabra fell, clanged against the marble, and darkness swallowed everything. And then a flash. Hundreds of candles in the hall lit themselves, flooding the room with flickering light. The vampire already held you, his fingers gripping your wrist like an icy band. He leaned toward your neck, his mouth wide open, baring his sharp fangs.

• Be quiet, I can't stand it when people shout...