My Stepmom Is A Vampire & Her Entire Bloodline Wants To Breed Me

Chapter 128: Hell is Different for Each

Roanna’s frustrated screams echoed through the broken manor.

The children’s souls had stopped attacking, but their cries lingered in thin, trembling sounds that rippled through the air as if recognizing the figure who shattered their illusion.

Half of the manor’s ceiling was gone, shards of the false roof drifting like fractured glass.

Through the opening, the border between illusion and reality shimmered, revealing the true throne room beyond.

The glamour had collapsed, and what was left was raw, decaying truth.

”Who dares destroy my masterpiece?!”

Roanna’s voice trembled with fury, but when she raised her hand to summon her weapon, nothing formed.

The energy she once absorbed had dispersed, slipping through her grasp like smoke.

’It’s fine,’ she told herself, forcing a smirk. ’I can rebuild it. I always can.’

The echo of boots cut through the silence. A figure stepped from the shadows. It was Seamus, with his father close behind.

Both looked worn, hollowed by exhaustion, their presence heavy with the kind of knowledge no man should carry.

”You! You’re still alive?!” Roanna’s eyes widened in disbelief. ”You killed that Raven! You should be rotting in hell!”

Seamus chuckled quietly. ”If that was hell, it was underwhelming. I left early.”

Madeline, who had been watching from the side, approached him.

Relief softened her expression as she took his hand and turned it over, examining the back of it with a faint smile.

”Hm... so the hobo decided to tag along after all.”

Seamus laughed, shaking his head. ”He really does look like one.”

”What are you two talking about?” Isolde asked, smiling faintly as if already guessing the answer.

”You’ll find out,” Seamus replied shortly.

Roanna’s gaze darted between them, and her expression shifted from rage to realization. Her eyes widened with dawning horror.

She stumbled back, step by step, until her heel brushed against the base of the wall. Behind it was a hidden passage.

If she could just reach it—

”Where do you think you’re going?” Isolde’s voice cut through the air, low and mocking.

”Running again, Roanna?”

Roanna froze. The air behind her grew cold. She didn’t need to turn to know what stood there.

The shadows thickened, forming a figure, its presence suffocating. The nightmare’s hollow eyes glowed faintly in the dark as it reached toward her.

The children’s whispers faded into silence. Only the sound of Roanna’s uneven breath remained.

”So what? Haven’t you all gotten what you wanted?” Roanna stood her ground, eyes blazing with exhaustion and defiance.

”I’ve lost everything. My house is gone. My title means nothing. Bork is safe, shouldn’t that be enough?”

Her voice cracked but she didn’t stop. ”What kind of monsters are you that you think killing me will satisfy your bloodlust?”

The room fell into stunned silence. Even Isolde raised a brow at her audacity.

”Monsters?” Seamus stepped forward, his voice low, shaking with fury.

”If we’re monsters, then what does that make you?” His hands clenched at his sides.

”You slaughtered children for your own pride. No, worse. You made them live just to suffer.”

He glared at her, trembling with disgust. ”You turned them into walls, into flesh and stone. You made them part of your house.”

His voice rose, filled with rage. ”You made them monsters.”

Roanna only sighed, then laughed bitterly. ”And that’s what separates me from you humans. You live just to exist. I live for purpose, something greater.”

”I am the Crown Princess of Morum!” she shouted, her voice echoing through the cracked walls.

”All glory belongs to me, and for that, sacrifices must be made!”

She spread her arms, eyes burning with twisted pride. ”Those children became something more than what they were. They became useful.”

Her lips curved into a cruel smile. ”They should have thanked me.”

The manor shuddered violently at her words. The floorboards groaned, and the air filled with the sound of crying children: anguished, rising in pitch as if screaming in protest.

”Yeah, cry about it!” Roanna yelled over the noise, her laughter shrill and broken.

”You worthless little things! You couldn’t even follow simple orders and stay still!”

Seamus’s expression twisted in horror. Never in his life had he seen something so depraved. Not even Isolde’s sins could match Roanna’s.

”Just like your power,” Isolde said, folding her arms across her chest, her tone cold and cutting.

”You’re delusional, you keep stealing someone’s right, and make everything yours.”

”The kingdom you boast of, the empire you claim, it’s already dust. Crumbled under its own arrogance and madness, just like you.”

”Shut up, you filthy slave!” Roanna’s roar shook the walls, veins pulsing at her temples.

”You were born from a human farm! Bred to serve our thirst but you betray the hand that gives you life! You have no right to lecture me on morality!”

Her eyes burned with hatred as she turned to Madeline. ”And you, how can you stand there and let her live after everything she’s done? You let that wretch stain the Velstrath bloodline with her filth and her daughters’ filth!”

Her words struck the air like a curse. The cries of the children twisted again, louder and more furious, as if the house itself rejected her.

Seamus stood stunned for a moment. The truth had just settled into him. He turned to look at Isolde. Her face did not change. She remained as still and unreadable as ever.

It made sense now when Madeline called Isolde an usurper. There was time for questions later.

For now, he had a single task. Roanna had to be punished.

”Do you feel any guilt for what you’ve done?” he asked.

The question hung in the stale air and the room fell quiet.

Roanna answered with cold certainty. ”No. These creatures were never on my level. My purpose is greater than theirs. Why would I feel guilt?”

Seamus closed his eyes. When he opened them again they shone like polished metal, and a gold aura flowed from him.

His pupils narrowed into two red suns burning at the center.

Roanna saw it and went pale. She had watched Sarah being punished by the Emblem of Enigma of Draemir.

She knew that look. She knew what it took.

That power was merciless and precise. It took a thing and left only the hollow where it had been.

And her punishment would be greater than Sarah ever will.

”You... How do you have that power? You are only human,” she stammered before she turned to run.

But the floor betrayed her. A golden sigil bloomed under her feet, a raven etched into its center.

”Roanna Corvane,” Seamus intoned, ”you will be punished for your crimes. For cruel experiments on children, for killing other vampires, for living in delusion and calling it purpose.”

”You will be erased. Your purpose will mean nothing. You will be ashes and your soul dragged into an eternity of judgment in hell.”

Crimson threads erupted from the circle and snaked toward Roanna. They wrapped around her ankles and wrists, pulling with inevitable, terrible force.

”How dare you punish me, you lowly human!” she screamed. ”I am not wrong. Everything I took was mine by right!”

She slid across the floor, nails scraping the stone and leaving black blood in their wake.

Her body fought, twisted, and writhed, but the threads tightened until she could not move.

The voice of the place rose, a terrible chorus as if hell itself welcomed a new guest. Roanna’s screams faded into an ocean of other cries as she was dragged down.

Seamus let out a slow breath. The illusion that had been the manor began to dissolve.

The children’s souls that had been bound to it rose like moths from burning embers and drifted free.

Their faces softened. The pleading stopped. They floated upward and away, finally unchained.

Madeline stepped close and tapped his shoulder. Her expression was oddly light.

”Not bad,” she said. ”You could have been crueler.”

Seamus let a small, bitter smile touch his face. ”No need. Hell will be enough. X said it comes in forms different for each, and I hope hers is the worst and eternal.”

The hurt in his chest eased a little, as if a hot coal had cooled.

Where the illusion had stood, the manor now looked like it had been abandoned for centuries.

Dust lined the halls and the banners hung in tatters. Silence settled over it like a shroud.

Isolde inclined her head, her smile calm. ”You did well, Seamus. I know you care for this town and the people, but there is nowhere left for us here. We should move on.”

”Move?” Andrew’s voice cut in, sharp with panic.

He stepped forward, eyes wide and begging. ”You cannot leave with her, Seamus. She will take everything from you. She will hollow you until there is nothing left.”

”Come with me,” Andrew pleaded, shame making his tone small. ”You will be safe.”

Seamus turned to his father. His voice was a cold blade.

”Like she did to you?” he asked. ”Like when you sent me away?”

Andrew flinched, the words stopping him. His face crumpled and he could not find the answer.

”You lied to me,” Seamus said. ”How can I trust you now? What are you hiding? Is your name even Andrew? How are you equal to Elle? What are you?”

Andrew’s voice was a whisper, defeated. ”Seamus...” he said, ”it is better if you do not know.”