Thanks to Grayson, I could see the vampire in full view: a brutal, strong, silent killer who knew no pity. And Cedric is the same. He kills people and drinks their blood. He's as ruthless a killer as Grayson.

But Grayson was right: no matter how much of a monster Cedric was, I loved him. But I'll never see him again. Well, at least he'd be safe.

I showered, washed my hair, brushed my teeth, drank some tap water, cleaned myself up, and headed to the dining hall. After yesterday's torture, I knew it was on the third floor. Why the third floor? Strange, because in all houses the dining room is always on the ground floor.

But when I went upstairs, I found no food in the dining room: the table was empty. So I looked for the kitchen: I was getting hungrier and hungrier. With difficulty I found the kitchen and was glad to see the fridge, but there was no food in it. I was sickened by what I saw: the fridge was full of dainty glass bottles that were probably filled with human blood.

I slammed the door in my heart and hurried away. I needed fresh air after my gruesome discovery, so I headed resolutely for the park. As I walked down the hall to the front door, I glanced at one of the walls, and a large wooden door nestled between two black marble columns caught my eye. I was immediately filled with a mad desire to see what lay behind that door, and though I had never been an adventurer, I made my way to the mysterious door. The door was an imposing, heavy shutter with a handle shaped like the paw of a beast of prey. I held my breath and hesitantly touched the handle.

What was behind it? Such a heavy and large door had to be hiding something forbidden, hidden from view.

My attempts to open the door came to nothing – it was terribly heavy and as if it didn't want to reveal its secrets to me. But I didn't give up: I grabbed the handle with both hands, put my foot against the wall, pulled, and the door opened with a soft creak. It was a dark corridor with no hint of light behind it, but I decided to follow Grayson's example and clapped my hands, and a bright electric light appeared in the corridor, so I could see where I was.

As I stepped timidly into the suspicious room, I hugged my shoulders: the air in the long corridor before me was icy cold. I was afraid to go forward, but I forced myself, thinking that, while my tormentor was away, I could examine his castle. So I bravely but slowly walked down the corridor and saw what must have been left over from a very long time ago: on either side of the corridor stretched small cells fenced with heavy iron bars.

"My God, are these really the dungeons I'm supposed to be in?" – I cringed at the thought.

The corridor was so ancient that its walls were covered in moss and the bars were covered in threads of rust.

Eager to get a closer look at one of the cells, I walked up to it, but saw nothing but bare walls and a handful of dirty rags in the corner. Suddenly, I was astonished and horrified to see these rags move, and from under them a dishevelled, dirty girl sprang out-she rushed with a loud cry to the bars and seized me by the arm.

Fear ran through me to my very bones, and I shrieked loudly.

– Please help me! – The girl shouted in English, trying to pull me to her, but I fought her off and pressed my back against the opposite grate.

Suddenly someone's cold hand grabbed my shoulder. A new scream of terror burst from my chest, and I hurried to the middle of the corridor, finding myself between two cells, while the two girls trapped in them held out their hands to me and shouted loudly in horrible, hysterical voices.

– Help me! Let me out! I don't want to die! – screamed the second one, also in English, but with a strong Spanish accent. She looked no better than her neighbour.

Their horrible screams, the sight of them, and the whole situation frightened me so much that I immediately rushed out of the dungeon, hearing the terrible cries of "No! Don't go! Don't leave us!" These chilling cries haunted me. The horrible sight before my eyes was unbearable. I could not conceive how such a thing was possible in the modern world! Girls trapped in that cold, damp cellar… Poor creatures! They must have been looking forward to someone giving them their freedom back for a long time! But what are they there for? How did they get there? Who put them there?

Grayson. What a simple answer. And most likely, he locked them in there to drink their blood later.

I hurried out of the cellar and closed the door behind me, and, separated from the rest of the castle by the heavy, powerful wood, the girls' pitiful cries fell silent.

I felt sick to my stomach. I clutched the wall with my hand, and breathing loudly, horrified, and with a boundless dislike of Grayson, I wondered feverishly whether I could have taken the liberty of setting the poor captives free. I couldn't wait to run back to the dungeon and break down the rusty bars, let the girls out, give them freedom and comfort, but… Then Grayson would kill me for sticking my nose in his business. I was sure of it.

Just forget about them? Ignore the fact? It was impossible: I closed my eyes and saw the unhappy girls in front of me, their hysterical screams ringing in my ears.

Perhaps I was soon to be in one of those cells. Because I was determined to talk to Grayson about the prisoners and try to get him to let them go. Even at the cost of my own life.

Tired and broken, I walked out of the castle into the park and sat on a bench by the fountain. The morning, which had recently seemed joyful and hopeful, was as dark as the sky above my head: the smell of a thunderstorm was in the air.

"How many days have passed since Grayson locked his poor prisoners in the dungeon? How many horrors they must have endured and are enduring every day! Are they receiving food and water? Lord, if you are, how do you allow such things to happen? How do you allow some of your children to abuse and kill your other children!" – The thoughts in my head were interrupting each other, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from crying at the sheer injustice.

Soon it started to rain, but I didn't want to go back to the castle: I was disgusted to be in a vampire's home. So, without moving, I sat in the summer rain and thought about the poor girls locked in their cages.

My thoughts were interrupted by the quiet rattle of the gate opening, and as I glanced up, I saw Grayson's car pulling into the park. The gate closed immediately. The car stopped at the stone staircase, and in a few seconds the master of the castle himself stepped out of it. From now on, in my eyes he wasn't just a monster-he was a maniac, a sadist, a madman. I began to hate him even more, if that was even possible.

Grayson glanced at me and, grinning, headed in my direction. He was beautiful in a dark blue classic suit. His dark hair set off his handsome face perfectly, on which a welcoming smile shone.

– Good morning, Viper. How did you sleep? I hope you didn't get cold last night? – He asked, stopping in front of me.

I had no desire to talk to him or even look at him, but I needed to find out who those girls were, in his dungeon, and what he planned to do to them. Maybe he would hit me for my insolence, maybe ban me from the bars next to them, but I needed to know.

– Brandon," I began timidly, remembering well how angry he'd been yesterday for my not calling him by his first name.

– You finally learnt my name," he said mockingly.

– Who… Who are they? – I asked in a broken voice, not daring to look at him.

– Who are they?"

I looked up at him.

– The girls in your dungeon," I said quietly and squirmed, preparing to take his punch or slap.

To my amazement, instead of frowning or slapping me, Brandon smiled.