My Blood Legacy: Bloodlines

[Currently]

"You... betrayed me..."

That phrase still seemed to echo in the room even after it was spoken, as if it had been etched into the walls, the floor, the very air that now weighed heavily on everyone there.

There was no scream, no explosion, not even a change in tone... and yet, that was precisely what made everything infinitely worse. Serafall’s calmness wasn’t an absence of emotion; it was absolute restraint, a dam about to give way under its own weight.

Before her, Victor was on his knees like a repentant puppy.

His body had simply given way.

The pressure emanating from her wasn’t something one could face standing unprepared, and at that moment, he definitely wasn’t prepared. His muscles trembled involuntarily, as if every fiber was being forced to acknowledge something far above him in the chain of existence.

Still, he hadn’t completely looked away... there was resistance there, small, almost stubborn... but present.

Behind him, the scene only made everything more absurd.

Carmilla and Scarlett were still suspended upside down, enveloped by the same bloody restraints that pulsed slowly, as if they were alive and aware of the situation. Their condition was no longer just uncomfortable... it was degrading.

Scarlett was visibly exhausted from struggling, her face red, her eyes brimming with pure indignation as she let out muffled sounds through the gag, her body still trying to react even without enough strength to do so. Her tail, once agitated, now moved in irritated spasms, as if even it were tired of the situation.

Carmilla, on the other hand, remained more... composed.

But no less affected.

Her gaze was fixed on Serafall with a silent intensity, analyzing, calculating, as if trying to find an opening... not to escape, but to understand exactly how far this situation could escalate.

Even so, she seemed... uncomfortable.

And that, coming from someone like Carmilla, said enough.

Victor swallowed hard.

The sound was small.

But too loud in the silence that dominated the room.

"M-mother... so—" he began, his voice faltering right at the start, completely betraying any attempt to maintain that relaxed posture he usually sustained so easily.

His throat was dry, his words stumbling over each other before they could even fully form. "L-let’s talk rationally~"

The attempt was... pathetic.

And he knew it.

But, at that moment, it was that or simply accept death.

Because there was a clear, glaring difference, impossible to ignore—

Rakshasa was dangerous.

Chysis was terrifying.

But Serafall... Serafall was his mother... And that put everything on a completely different level.

The kind of fear she inspired didn’t just come from her strength, her aura, her ability to destroy everything around her with the slightest gesture. It came from something deeper, more primal—the kind of authority that isn’t questioned, that isn’t confronted, that isn’t rationalized.

He was theoretically an adult man, right? That doesn’t change anything! If you have a mother, you understand what she’s feeling. An angry mother is demonic in her son’s eyes, and now, Victor felt it for the first time... In a past future, he had seen her nervous, but never with him. No, it wasn’t nervousness, it was... A cruel feeling that struck him...

’I should have spoken sooner...’ He thought.

It was absolute. And Victor, for the first time since entering that world, seemed... genuinely out of control of the situation.

Serafall didn’t respond immediately; her eyes were open now. The red that had once been merely deep now seemed... more vivid, denser, as if something were accumulating behind them, pressing against the surface without yet overflowing. Her face still held that smile, but there was no longer any softness in it. It was rigid. Forced. Too perfect to be natural.

She took a step forward.

The pressure increased.

Victor felt it.

His body reacted even before his mind could keep up, his shoulders tensing, his hands instinctively pressing the ground as if that would help him stay there. His heart was beating too fast, each pulse echoing in his ears like a constant warning that he was dangerously close to crossing a line of no return.

"Rationally...?" she repeated, her voice low, almost soft, but carrying a subtle distortion, as if being compressed by something larger from behind.

One more step.

Now she was close.

Too close.

"You brought... two women..." she continued, each word coming out with surgical precision, as if carefully chosen to cause maximum impact, "...to my house..."

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

Not in doubt.

But in confirmation.

"...and you’re asking me to be rational?" The silence that followed was crushing.

Victor opened his mouth.

Closed it.

"Do you know... what I’m feeling?" The question didn’t come as a direct accusation, nor as an immediate attack... it came as something far more dangerous: a desperate attempt to be understood.

Serafall’s eyes were fixed on Victor’s, not like a general analyzing a subordinate, but like someone who had completely crossed the line between reason and emotion, between control and need.

And, for the first time since he had known her, the mask she wore... began to crack.

It wasn’t an abrupt break... It was slow... Painful and visible.

The perfect smile that had once seemed unshakeable trembled at the corners, as if it could no longer support its own weight.

Her eyes, still open, still intense, began to lose that controlled rigidity, revealing something raw, disorganized... and dangerously human in her pain, despite everything she was.

"I am..." her voice faltered for a second, not from weakness, but from excess, as if the words were rushing inside her, vying for space to escape. Her hand, which had previously held the knife with absolute precision, now trembled slightly, the blade still enveloped in vibrant blood, but without the same perfect control as before.

"I’ve been trying to provoke you for weeks..." she continued, her voice dropping a tone, becoming more unstable, more strained, as if each word were being forcibly ripped away. "Trying to make you react... attack me... desire me..."

One step forward.

Closer.

Too close.

"I appear..." she continued, her breath becoming heavier, more irregular, "I play with you... with your heart... with your mind... I do EVERYTHING..." her voice rose slightly, not in volume, but in intensity, as if about to break completely. "...so you only look at me."

Silence.

Heavy.

Unbreathable.

And then—

She laughed.

Low.

Broken.

Desperate.

A laugh that didn’t match anything she was as a general, as a leader... but that perfectly matched what she was at that moment.

Something... breaking.

"And you..." she continued, her voice trembling now without any attempt to hide it, "...you’re sleeping..."

Her eyes darted away for a moment.

To Carmilla.

To Scarlett.

Trapped.

Defenseless.

But, at that moment, completely irrelevant.

"...with two random vampires..." she finished, turning her gaze to Victor with an intensity that seemed to pierce any defense he might have had. "Two... that I don’t even know who they are."

The words weren’t spoken with contempt.

They were spoken with pain.

Pure.

Raw.

Tears began to fall.

Without warning.

Without restraint.

Sliding down her face silently, contrasting absurdly with everything she represented. There was no attempt to wipe them away. There was no shame. They simply... were there, as physical proof of something that could no longer be hidden.

"I..." her voice faltered again, lower now, almost a whisper that still filled the entire space. "I just wanted you to be mine..."

The knife in her hand descended slowly, not from a loss of intention, but because at that moment... that was no longer the focus.

"It’s not like those ridiculous things about human families..." she continued, her eyes still fixed on him, but now carrying something deeper, more distorted. "We’re not like that... we don’t have those pathetic limitations... those weak bonds..."

She took another step.

Now she was standing before him.

Just inches away.

"I created you..." she murmured, her voice soft, almost tender... and completely unsteady. "I watched you grow... I felt every change... every evolution... every piece of you..."

Her free hand moved slowly, touching his face, her cold fingers contrasting with the heat of the situation, but the touch... wasn’t aggressive.

It was possessive.

Delicate.

Wrong.

"And you think..." she continued, tilting her face slightly, tears still streaming down her face, but her smile slowly returning—not the previous one, not the controlled one... but something more broken, more intense, more true in its madness, "...that I’m just going to share this?"

Silence returned.

But now... there was no more control in him.

It was contained chaos.

It was unfiltered obsession.

It was love.

But not ordinary love.

Not healthy love.

It was the kind of love that doesn’t ask.

It doesn’t negotiate.

It doesn’t accept.

It just... takes.

And at that moment—

Her heart wasn’t just wounded.

It was shattering.

And that made everything...

Infinitely more dangerous.

"Eh?! W-wait a minute—!" Victor tried to intervene, but it was too late.

Serafall simply... broke.

It wasn’t an elegant fall, nor a contained loss of control—it was a complete, visceral collapse, almost childlike in its intensity. Her body bent slightly forward as her hands rushed to her face, trying to contain something that had already surpassed any limit of containment. Tears flowed continuously, hot, disordered, running down her fingers as her breathing became irregular, punctuated by small sobs that seemed to be forcibly ripped from her chest.

"Uhh—! Uhff—!" She tried to compose herself, trying to wipe her face, trying to recover some vestige of dignity... but she couldn’t. The more she tried, the more she crumbled.

And Victor... froze.

’What do I do...?’

The thought came dry, direct, desperate.

’It’s the first time...’ his mind faltered for a moment, unable to process the scene before him. ’It’s the first time I’ve seen my mother like this... she... she’s... really crying...’

This wasn’t acting.

It wasn’t calculated manipulation.

It was... real.

And that was worse than any threat she could have made.

His body reacted even before his mind finished processing. A violent tightness gripped his chest, as if something had pierced his heart—not physical pain, but something deeper, more unsettling, harder to ignore. His muscles trembled, his fingers clenched slightly against the floor.

’What the hell have I done...’

The conclusion came simply.

Heavy.

Irrefutable.

And then—

He stood up.

Without much thought.

Without calculating.

He just went.

In a quick movement, almost too impulsive even for him, Victor stepped forward and enveloped her in a tight embrace, pulling her against him as if that, somehow, could prevent her from breaking further.

"I’m sorry—!" he cried, his voice coming out faster than usual, laden with urgency. "Forgive me, I— I didn’t think straight! I have my reasons, okay?! But— but please, calm down—!"

She didn’t stop.

Quite the opposite.

The crying intensified.

Her face was already completely covered in tears, her breath uneven against his chest while her hands, previously trying to push him away, now gripped the fabric of his clothes tightly.

"I’ll do anything..." he continued, almost tripping over his own words. "Seriously—anything! Just... stop crying, please..."

Serafall’s emotional collapse still reverberated in the air when, abruptly, almost disconnected from her previous crying, she gripped Victor’s hand tightly, as if she had finally reached an inevitable conclusion, something that had been held back for too long.

Then...

"Do it;..." her voice came out trembling, but laden with a decision that left no room for retreat as she intertwined her fingers with his, "...Have sex with me..."

Victor’s world simply... stopped.

"Huh?!"

The reaction came as a direct, dry impact, without any preparation, as if his mind had taken a blow that it couldn’t even process properly.

Before he could even organize a coherent thought, Serafall was already pulling him closer, enveloping him in a tight, almost desperate hug, as if he were the only thing keeping her whole at that moment.

"I can’t take it anymore! I want to have sex with you!" She screamed, her voice breaking between emotion, frustration, and an absurd intensity that didn’t match anything rational.

"Mom?!"

Victor froze completely, his body rigid, his arms unsure of where to rest, as he desperately tried to understand how this situation had escalated so quickly... and so far.

But Serafall didn’t back down.

Quite the opposite.

"What you did was unfair! Your first time was supposed to be with me!!" she snapped, grabbing him by the shoulders now, her eyes still teary, but filled with a chaotic conviction that mixed pain, possessiveness, and something much deeper—something that could no longer be hidden.

"Wait!"