What I Can Do For The One I Love (3)

I wanted to deny what my father said, but the more I resisted, the more my body seemed to come alive.

So this is who I really am.

Razella Pacula… born under a blessing. But that was a lie. My very existence was nothing but a curse.

A monster that should never have been born. Now, I’d be forced to survive by stealing the lives of others. What a horrifying reality.

My family did anything to secure sustenance. Kidnapping, murder, imprisonment… whatever it took to steal lives and keep surviving.

Sometimes, they even killed at the request of others. The wealth and honor our family built was founded on that truth, the real face of the Pacula family.

Of all of us, Jacob was born with the most brutal temperament.

“Please, spare me, let me live…!”

A desperate hand stretched out, grasping at nothing, before it was twisted and snapped in an instant.

I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away. When I looked again, the person who’d been screaming now lay lifeless at Jacob’s feet, their neck broken. Jacob looked down at the corpse, his face empty of emotion.

“Ah, broke again so easily. Tsk.”

“…”

Bored, Jacob kicked the dead person’s head. There was a sickening burst of flesh, blood spattering everywhere. I could hardly breathe. The red stains splashed across Jacob’s body were utterly grotesque.

Even as a child, Jacob was strong, stronger than most grown men. He was desperate to show off that strength.

Whenever he went hunting for prey, Jacob used the most brutal methods. He’d deliberately let captives go, only to hunt them down and kill them, toying with them until the end. He loved to crush people at the very moment they began to hope for survival.

“They all make different sounds when you step on them. That’s why it’s fun.”

He’d boast about his methods, completely unashamed. If anything, he was intoxicated by his own power, rambling about how he “ate” his prey that day, like a connoisseur describing a meal.

Of the three children, Jacob resembled our father the most.

“They say the taste changes with age and environment. Did you know that?”

“No, I don’t… want to know.”

I really didn’t want to know. Nor did I have any reason to.

Jacob’s behavior disgusted me. Even though we were twins, I hated him more than Jayden. Unless we were forced together, I always avoided Jacob. I never wanted to see his face, and Jacob probably felt the same about me.

Ever since the day I learned the truth about myself and our family, I wished for death every single moment. Even being alive felt shameful.

Normally, when we “fed,” we had to take all of a person’s life force. But I wondered if there was a way to live without taking everything. The day I voiced that idea, my family called me a mutant.

Father didn’t want a mutant daughter. He told me to kill, saying it would be troublesome to leave prey alive.

Of course, I refused. Father didn’t scold me; he simply stopped giving me blood. Every time, I was left to writhe in thirst. When I was about to lose consciousness, Father would toss prey to me as if throwing scraps to a stray.

Once, desperate to die, I held out, refusing to take a life. The pain that followed was indescribable, far worse than any slow torment Father had ever used to punish me.

My mouth dried up. My throat burned. The thirst set fire to every organ in my belly.

I clawed at my parched throat, scratching at the floor. My well-kept nails broke and bled, but I felt nothing. I kicked, writhed, and rolled across the ground.

Even drinking water or eating food only made the fire inside me grow fiercer.

Nothing else I’d ever experienced compared to that pain. When I finally came to after all that torment, my eldest brother Jayden was standing over me.

I looked up at him and instinctively licked my lips. There was a sweet taste lingering on my tongue. That’s when I realized… I’d taken someone’s life again.

“Listen. The more you resist, the more you’ll crave blood. You’ll lose control and become the true monster you hate so much.”

“…Why?”

“It’s like someone drowning, they thrash in the water. Even when someone hangs themselves, their body struggles to break free. Our bodies act on instinct. To survive.”

Why do we fight to live? Why does the body betray the heart?

My mind drowned in guilt and the longing for death every moment, but my body craved life, stealing it from others without shame.

Before I realized it, tears were streaming down my sweat-soaked face. I sobbed, horrified that I’d survived. Jayden just looked down at me as always, expressionless, without pity or warmth for his little sister.

“So don’t waste time on pointless things. I know you. You’re a coward… you couldn’t even kill yourself.”

“Don’t make me laugh.”

“If you really wanted to die, you would’ve hanged yourself the day you killed your nanny.”

“No, that’s not true!”

I protested desperately, but Jayden didn’t take his words back. He was right. I was a coward. Even knowing I shouldn’t exist, I didn’t have the courage to end it myself. Even my act of rebellion, refusing blood, ended with me surrendering to the pain.

“No matter how much you resist, you’re still a child of the Pacula family. Unless you drain every drop of blood from your body, nothing will change.”

“Oppa.”

“…”

“How can we die?”

“Do you really want to die that much?”

“Then do you want to live, Oppa?”

Every time, we kill to survive. We have to keep murdering just to go on living. As long as we breathe, we’ll be forced to devour others. There’s no other way. Is a life like this really worth anything? Isn’t it the opposite?

“Do you really want to go on living like this?”

Jayden didn’t answer. He didn’t insist we had to live, nor did he get angry and demand to know why he should die. He didn’t even sound annoyed. He simply gave advice.

“We’re not immortal. We might live longer than most, but death still comes for us. The only difference is how. We die if we starve without feeding, if another of our kind kills us, or if our hearts are pierced by a relic that purifies the unholy, a family heirloom.”

“What is that?”

“I don’t know either. Supposedly, it’s a legendary item. A saint came down from heaven and used it to save the world long ago. Since it ‘pierces,’ I assume it’s a sword.”

“What a ridiculous story.”

From the start, the idea of a “saint” was nothing but a fabrication. Most people believed it was a myth the temple invented to inspire faith. I was no different.

“Maybe so. But you can’t say it’s just a story, either.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are beings like us, aren’t there? So maybe somewhere, an item exists that can purify the unholy. Maybe one day, a saint who will save the world will appear. Maybe they’re already born.”

His words sounded unbelievable to me, but Jayden seemed convinced. He always spoke as if it was the truth, and somehow…

From that day, I started to pray. For a monster like me to pray, God would probably just laugh. But I had nothing else.

“Please, let someone kill me.”

Every day, I prayed desperately to God.

And then, on a night when the full moon was especially bright, God answered my prayer.

A divine oracle descended.

[When the darkness in this world threatens to swallow even the sky, the brave one will slay the serpent and bring an end. Then, peace will come.]

People were baffled by these words, unable to grasp their meaning. There was endless debate over how to interpret the oracle.

When Father heard it, his face turned terrifyingly rigid. Anyone in the Pacula family would’ve realized the “serpent” meant us.

The Pacula family crest depicts a white serpent coiled in a circle. From its head to its tail, red eyes are set along its body, just like our family’s signature red eyes.

But the design was vague enough that outsiders didn’t realize it was a serpent. Family crests didn’t need to be obvious. Most just thought it was a simple pattern. Only we knew the truth.

At the same time, the “brave one” was clearly a reference to a particular family. The brave eagle. The undefeated victor. Now retired and living in peace. It meant the Riatrice family.

The Riatrice family was the very opposite of ours. If we ruled the world of darkness, they were the glory of the world of light. To our father, who always despised the Riatrice family, the oracle was a genuine shock.

After that, Father became violently irritable. He flew into rages at the smallest provocation, beating several servants to death in the name of discipline. For a while, the mansion stank of blood. Even Jayden and Jacob, as well as I, had to constantly watch Father’s mood.

Then suddenly, he locked himself in his study, skipping meals. The mansion went quiet. The smell of blood faded, and there was a fragile peace. But I found that peace terrifying. Wasn’t it just the calm before a storm?

On the night of another clear full moon, I had a nightmare. My nanny appeared, weeping tears of blood as she strangled me. “Monster! I can’t believe I raised something like you as a precious child!” Blood spurted from her neck, filling my mouth and choking me.

“Gasp!”

I jerked awake, panting. It was only a nightmare. But it was so awful, I couldn’t bring myself to sleep again. This was the room where the nanny died. No matter how many times I changed the carpet or cleaned, the sense of death never faded.

So I left the room, needing to escape. The moment I stepped out, I felt like I could finally breathe.

As I walked through the corridor, I realized the mansion felt oddly chaotic that night. Even though it was late, people seemed to be moving everywhere. The night air felt strangely heavy.

Normally, I would pace the halls for a while, then go back to my room. But this time, the nightmare had chased away all sleepiness, and I just kept walking.

I left the mansion and wandered outside. My lantern cast a faint glow ahead, cutting through the darkness. The wind tangled my hair. It felt refreshing, as if the nightmare clinging to me was finally being washed away. I enjoyed it so much, I almost didn’t notice the scent carried by the breeze.

It was faint but unmistakable, the scent of blood. Ever since that day, my senses had sharpened so much that I couldn’t ignore it, no matter how hard I tried. Drawn in, I followed the smell.

The dark hill lined with trees on the left led me to an old storage shed. The shed looked pitifully weathered by age. But I had a feeling whatever was inside wouldn’t be pitiful at all.

I didn’t know where my courage came from. But that night, everything felt different.