Vampire Progenitor System

The Bloom Mansion was quiet—too quiet. The kind of silence that weighed heavy in the air. Greta stood in her private chamber, hunched over an old, dusty book resting on a stone pedestal. Candlelight flickered along the walls, casting a golden glow on her silver hair and the lined concentration on her face.

Then—

whoosh.

A ripple in the air. Barely a sound, but her instincts caught it.

She didn’t even turn—her hands snapped up, and a fiery wave burst from her palms, surging toward the presence behind her.

The flames passed right through Temmy.

She stood there, untouched, arms folded, wearing a smug look like it was stitched into her skin. ”That’s one way to welcome a guest.”

Greta exhaled slowly, shaking her head. ”You again...” She turned back to her book, flipping the pages with practiced urgency. ”I don’t have time for your theatrics, child. My daughter is missing. I’d prefer some peace so I can focus.”

Temmy didn’t budge. ”That’s exactly why I’m here.”

Greta paused.

Temmy stepped forward, her long hair swaying with each lazy footstep, that same sly smile curving her lips. ”You know what I am. You know what I can do. If you want to find Remu, I can help you. Instantly, even.”

Greta’s eyes widened, realization hitting her like thunder.

Of course.

The Spirit Race.

How could she forget?

They weren’t just rare—they were feared and respected for a reason. Born with unnatural sensitivity to a person’s spiritual signature, they could track souls across worlds if they wanted.

Greta turned slowly, her expression hard to read. ”What’s the price?”

Temmy’s grin widened, playful but sharp. ”Straight to the point. I like that.”

She took another step, now close enough to look Greta straight in the eyes.

”I want to know who Lucifer’s mother is.”

The words dropped like a stone in a still lake.

Greta blinked, once. ”What?”

Temmy shrugged, casually. ”That’s all. No blood oath, no soul-binding deal, no ancient favor. I just want a name.”

Greta’s jaw tightened.

”Why?” she asked. ”Why does a little spirit girl care about that?”

”I’m not doing this for fun,” she said, folding her arms. ”I’m doing it for a friend... someone important to me. He and Lucifer—they’re brothers. Same mother. So if I find out who Lucifer’s mother is, I find out his too.”

Greta raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Temmy took another step forward, her tone shifting just slightly. ”I made a promise to him. And because of you and all this back-and-forth these past few days, I haven’t been able to keep it. But now that I have something you need, something only I can give... I’m gonna use it.”

The room was still for a moment.

Greta slowly turned back to her pedestal, her hands brushing over the faded pages of the spellbook as if weighing her next words. She didn’t look at Temmy when she replied.

”Then fulfill your end first.”

Temmy blinked.

Greta’s voice was cool, sharp. ”Bring me my daughter. Safe. Unharmed. Standing in front of me. Then—and only then—will I tell you the name you want so badly.”

Temmy stared, silent.

Greta looked up at her now, her expression firm. ”I’m not negotiating. That’s the deal.”

A long pause passed between them. The only sound was the soft crackle of the candles.

Temmy exhaled, clicking her tongue with annoyance. ”Tch... fine. But just so you know—if anything happens to your daughter between now and the time I find her, it’s not on me.”

Greta gave a nod. ”Just find her.”

Temmy turned toward the window, the air beginning to ripple around her body again as she prepared to phase out. But just before she vanished, her voice lingered behind like a whisper.

”He wants to see her, you know... his mother. Even if he pretends he doesn’t.”

And with that, she was gone.

Greta remained standing, her hands clenched into fists over the ancient pages, lips pressed into a tight line. The room felt heavier now, the weight of secrets pressing down harder than ever.

Greta didn’t move for a long time. The silence crept back in, settling once more over the Bloom Mansion like a thick fog. The flickering candles danced faintly, casting long shadows against the walls, but the fire in her heart had dulled.

She sighed, the weight of her thoughts dragging her body down like chains.

Slowly, she moved away from the pedestal and toward the large arched window at the far end of the room. She pulled the curtain aside and sat by the ledge, resting her hands on her lap as she stared out at the dark, endless sky.

The moon was full tonight. Pale. Quiet. Distant.

Stars blinked overhead like forgotten memories.

Greta’s silver eyes reflected the night, but her mind wandered deeper—far beyond the stars.

Her voice broke the stillness, soft and tired. ”So... the sons seek the mother now.”

She leaned her cheek into her hand, her fingers brushing against the faint scar on her temple. A long-forgotten ache stirred in her chest.

”I’ve seen how it always ends,” she muttered, almost to herself. ”When children start asking questions about where they came from, they rarely like the answers.”

A faint breeze slipped through the crack in the window, brushing against her face like a ghost.

She looked up again—at the moon this time, as if speaking to it directly.

”But truth doesn’t care about feelings. It doesn’t knock. It crashes.”

She gave a small chuckle—dry and bitter.

”Lucifer’s mother... That name carries storms. That name ends peace.”

Then, for a moment, her lips pressed into a faint, thoughtful line. Her eyes softened. Somewhere in the distance, an owl cried.

Greta whispered, ”A mother’s love is the first spell ever cast on a soul. It leaves marks no magic can erase.”

And just like that, the window curtain fluttered gently again, as though the night was listening.

She sat there in silence.

Waiting.

Wondering.

A/N

Gifts 🤧🤧