
The Broken Heiress Returned For Revenge
Chapter 5
CRUELLA
“Fine, or you can just sleep,” Swayer murmured before lying next to me.
“Everything will be alright,” she whispered in my ear, wrapping an arm around me. Her warmth soothed me, even if only for a moment.
NEXT DAY
“So what exactly am I expected to find here?” I groaned , staring at the experiment sheet. “Heat of combustion or entropy change?”
We’d been studying for an hour already, and Swayer’s stomach was starting to rumble like a tiny, angry beast.
“I think we should pause. I’m starving,” she said with a cute pout.
“Me too. Should we go ba—”
“No, no need. I’ll get us something from the cafeteria.” She grinned, and I nodded. She left with her usual bounce, blond hair swaying.
I checked the time. She’s taking a long…
I was about to go look for her when a faint smell tickled my nose.
“Is that… smoke?”
Before I could process it, the fire alarm exploded through the building. My heart leaped into my throat.
Swayer.
I grabbed my books—hers too—and sprinted toward the lab door. But the moment I opened it, thick smoke pushed into me like a wave.
“Swayer!!” I screamed and ran toward the cafeteria, but flames already swallowed that side of the hallway. I turned toward the exit—I’ll get help, then come back for her—but when I reached the door, it wouldn’t open.
I pushed. Kicked. Slammed.
Nothing.
“Somebody help!!” I yelled, coughing as smoke wrapped around my throat like a noose. No footsteps. No help. No air.
I ran back deeper inside, desperate to reach Swayer, but before I could cross the hallway, the ceiling caved in with a violent crash, blocking the path. Behind me, flames crawled across the exit. Heat squeezed closer, my vision dimmed, and every breath burned.
I fell to the floor, choking, gasping, clawing at my own throat for air.
“Swa…yer…” I whispered.
And then everything collapsed—sound, air, world—until only darkness remained.
My eyes opened slowly, vision blurry… but then it sharpened like crystal—too sharp. Clearer than I’d ever seen in my life.
What…?
I sat up, confused. Unfamiliar bed. Unfamiliar room. Unfamiliar clothes clinging to me.
“Where am I?” The hunger hit me next—sharp, painful, bottomless. And thirst… like my throat was made of sand.
“Swayer…” Her name snapped back into my mind, along with the crushing memory of falling debris.
The door opened. An elderly man stepped in carrying a tray.
“Oh—you’re awake. This is indeed a miracle,” he said with a gentle smile.
I stepped back, suddenly wary. “Where am I? Who are you?”
“My name is Gerald Ford. You’re in my home. I’m a fire captain—I found you under broken blocks. Burnt… barely breathing. But alive.”
My heart stuttered. “You came to put out the fire? Then you… you must have seen Swayer! Did you get her out?”
His smile faded. “The building was already consumed by flames when we got there. One student was found dead. The other wasn’t found.”
My chest tightened painfully.
He continued, “I took you to the hospital, but they said there was no saving you. Told me to take you back, that you were as good as gone. But… look at you.” He stared in disbelief. “You healed in two days. No scars. Nothing.”
Two days? Healed? Completely?
How?
“I… I don’t understand,” I whispered.
Neither did he.
But the hunger gnawed deeper, stronger—shaking my hands. He set the tray down.
“It’s not poisoned,” he chuckled and lifted a knife to slice the meat.
He slipped.
The knife cut his finger.
A drop of blood rolled down his skin.
And something inside me snapped.
A scent—sweet, rich, intoxicating—hit me like a punch. I stepped toward him, sniffing without understanding why.
Gerald froze, confused. “What are you—?”
Then everything blurred.
In one moment he stood before me.
The next… he was pinned to the wall.
My teeth sank into his neck.
I didn’t think so. I didn’t choose. Instinct roared to life, drowning out reason. His blood—warm, sweet, perfect—flooded my mouth, and I drank like I’d never tasted anything so divine.
By the time I pulled back, Gerald’s eyes were empty. Lifeless.
His body collapsed at my feet.
And I collapsed to my knees.
“No… no no no…” I shook him desperately. “Mr… please… wake up. Please!”
But he was gone.
My heartbeat thundered as my sight suddenly glowed gold, then returned to normal. I didn’t even notice.
Only one thought filled my mind:
“I… I’m a vampire?” My voice trembled. “But how? Why?!”
Voices echoed outside the house—neighbors approaching.
If they saw me here, with Gerald… I’d go to prison. Or worse. And I wouldn’t even blame them.
I bolted for the door—
—and suddenly found myself outside.
Super speed.
Vampire speed.
This was real.
And this was dangerous.
Swayer. I need to find Swayer.
I ran to the dorm—empty. Then to the burnt building—nothing but ashes and twisted metal.
“Where are you, Swayer?” I whispered, panic clawing at my chest.
“Thank God I wasn’t near this building two nights ago,” a voice said behind me.
I turned to see a fragile-looking girl watching the ruins.
“You know what happened here?” I asked.
“There was a gas leak. Two students trapped.” Her expression softened. “One died. The other wasn’t found.”
My heart dropped.
“Where was the body found?” I asked in a shaking voice.
“Close to the cafeteria. Do you… know them?”
My knees buckled.
Swayer never made it out. She must have reached the cafeteria when the fire burst.
“This can’t be… no… no no…” I screamed, tears spilling hot and fast. My chest felt like it was splitting open. “Why didn’t you kill me too, moon goddess?! Why her?! Why?!”
“I’m so sorry,” the girl whispered behind me.
Her sympathy barely reached me. I was drowning—grief clawing at my lungs harder than the fire ever did.
“The saddest part,” the girl added softly, “is they said someone saw students locking the exit twenty minutes before the fire started.”
I froze.
“What did you just say?” I turned slowly, my eyes burning.
“He said he saw them padlocking the exit, but didn’t think anything of it until he heard students were trapped.”
My fists clenched so tight my nails pierced my palms.
Maeve.
Maeve and her minions.
They locked us in.
They killed Swayer.
My vision shifted—cold, steel red—not from hunger.
From vengeance.
“I swear on Swayer’s soul,” I said, voice low and trembling with rage,
“that I will make every single one of you pay.”
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