VRMMORPG: Rise Of The Blood Paragon

Lionel's complexion was ghostly pale, his lips dry and cracked, and his once-vibrant form now emaciated. He looked like a corpse laid to rest, skeletal and fragile.

Lying on the bed, he felt the world closing in, suffocating him in its relentless grasp. Heat and cold battled within him, as though he were trapped between a blazing furnace and an icy wasteland. His throat burned, parched beyond relief, and his mind drifted, detached from reality.

'What the fuck is happening to me?' His thoughts were disjointed, struggling to make sense of his body's betrayal.

He tried to move—an arm, a finger, anything—but his limbs felt foreign, unreachable. It was as though his consciousness floated in an abyss, disconnected from the vessel that once held it.

Yet his senses betrayed him with their sharpness. The distant clanging of cutlery rang in his ears, its source unknown.

Still, he couldn't move, and that troubled him deeply.

'I gave my blood, and then… Is that why I'm like this?' he thought, confused. 'I felt weak as soon as I was done, so I thought sleeping would replenish the blood, but have I slept too long?'

'Or am I already dead?'

As he wallowed in his confusion, he heard another sound—this one clearer, as though it was close to his ears.

Footsteps. A knock on the door. Footsteps again.

The footsteps grew louder, closer, and then stopped.

Someone entered—a lady dressed in the palace maid's attire, her presence hesitant, her eyes scanning the room until they settled on Lionel.

She moved forward, closer to Lionel, her brow furrowing as she knelt, bowing low.

"Greetings, Your Highness," she said softly, her voice trembling.

'A female voice…' Lionel noted. 'Who is she, and what does she want?'

In the maid's right hand was a vial containing small blue pills. She remained still on the ground, waiting for Lionel's permission to rise, but none came.

Cautiously, she raised her head, confusion etched on her face.

"Is he okay?" she murmured, staring intently at Lionel.

Then, she noticed his appearance—how pale he had become, how skeletal his frame looked, how parched his lips were, and how his breathing seemed lost.

Her thoughts ran wild, and she gasped loudly, instinctively covering her mouth with her hand.

'What's wrong with her? What's wrong with me?' Lionel wondered, confused by the sounds coming from the lady.

He had so many questions. Why had she entered his room? What had she come to do? Why did she gasp? Had she seen something terrible? And was that terrible thing because of him?

Above all, he was terrified of what could have made her react like that.

"Is he dead?" she whispered to herself, her eyes scanning Lionel's frail form repeatedly.

'What?!' Lionel's mind screamed.

'Dead? What the fuck?! That can't be true…'

The maid, after thinking hard about what might be wrong, moved her hand toward Lionel shakily. As she neared, a shock ran through her fingers, more intense than she had anticipated, so she hesitated, her hand suspended in mid-air.

She dropped her hand to her side and took a slow, steady breath to calm herself. Then, she moved closer, much closer, stopping beside Lionel's bed.

"I should check for his breathing…" she muttered to herself.

Cautiously, she leaned forward, her head dipping closer to Lionel's unmoving chest.

The faint warmth of her touch reached him, her head resting gently on his ribcage.

'Wait… what is that?' Lionel's thoughts broke through the haze as he registered the sensation.

Something soft and warm pressed against him, stirring a fleeting awareness in his numbed body.

The maid held her breath, listening intently. Then she felt it—a faint, sluggish thud beneath his fragile frame. His heart. It was slow and irregular, but it was there.

Relief washed over her features as she realized he wasn't dead, but perilously close. One wrong move, one delayed action, and he could slip away entirely.

'So soft… soothing,' Lionel thought as the sensation registered more fully.

The rhythmic pulse beneath her touch seemed to awaken something deeper within him. Her proximity, her warmth, and—most potently—the intoxicating scent that emanated from her.

He felt it now, with unnerving clarity: the subtle rush of her blood coursing through her veins, calling out to him in ways he couldn't comprehend. The sound seemed to grow louder, drowning out everything else in his mind.

'How her blood pumps… I can hear it… feel it… I just want to—' His thoughts twisted, spiraling down a dark path.

The hunger brewing within him was intense, clawing at the edges of his sanity.

His fingers twitched—the first voluntary movement he had managed since falling into this state.

But then, suddenly, as it began, a fragment of his sanity resurfaced.

'What the fuck am I thinking?!' he screamed in his mind, an inner voice dripping with self-loathing and disbelief.

He clung to it, desperate to push back against the tide of his impulses.

'I can't do that. I can't… suck blood from someone. That's disgusting… monstrous.'

The very thought repulsed him, yet it battled fiercely against the gnawing hunger that consumed him.

Before he could steady himself, the scent of her blood hit him again, stronger and more overwhelming than before. It enveloped him, thick and suffocating, flooding his senses.

His chest heaved as his body responded against his will, trembling with need.

The maid, oblivious to the turmoil raging within Lionel, moved with cautious determination. She brought her hand close to his face, touching his pale skin, which was cold to her touch.

"I should give him the pill…" she murmured softly, her voice trembling as she glanced at the vial in her hand.

As a maid in the royal palace, she was forced to remain loyal to the king. She knew what had transpired between the king and the prince—what had made him this way. But normally, the prince wasn't left in such a state after giving the king blood.

'So, what's wrong? What made him look so lifeless?' she wondered, staring at the vial in her hand.

"He should be well when I give him the pill… right?" she muttered, as though affirming to herself that everything would turn out fine.

The instruction from the king was to deliver the vial to the prince, but meeting him in his current condition, she wasn't sure what to do. Should she give him the pill or leave it by his bed?

But wouldn't that lead to his death being announced the next day? A crippled prince, whose blood had been sucked dry? Crippled and half-human at that? She knew it would be hard for him to rejuvenate by himself.

So, she concluded.

She removed a single pill from the vial and brought her hand closer to Lionel. It shook as it neared his mouth.

His lips were firm against each other, and her fair wrist lingered just inches from his mouth, her pale skin practically glowing in the dim light. Lionel's gaze locked onto it, even though his eyes remained closed.

He didn't need to see it—he could feel it, smell it. How the veins beneath her delicate skin pulsed with life, each beat of her heart resonating in his mind like a call to vitality.

Her fingers turned pink as she struggled to pry his mouth open, exerting force until she finally succeeded. When she did, her eyes widened in shock.

'No… No…' Lionel's mind pleaded, but his body betrayed him, succumbing to the primal hunger that had taken root.

His sharp fangs sank into the maid's fair wrist, his throat pulling the blood into his mouth.

She screamed, writhing and pushing against Lionel's hands, which held her in a firm grip, but it had no effect—until her voice grew fainter with each passing moment.

'It's so sweet…' Lionel's mind reeled, his eyes still closed as his mouth worked instinctively.

He continued to drink, savoring the sweetness. But then, suddenly, the taste turned sour. He released her hand, his own moving to his mouth as his tongue went numb.

Lionel felt rejuvenated. His pale skin smoothed out, his skeletal frame filled out, and he sat up, his legs dangling off the bed.

His eyes fluttered open, shifting from a red hue back to their regal purple. He scanned the dim room before his gaze fell on the figure on the floor.

"What?!" His eyes widened in horror.

The maid lay lifeless, her body pale, her eyes sunken, and her skin shredded as though drained of blood.

Lionel's hands trembled as he touched his mouth, feeling the wetness. He brought his hand back to his front, staring at the red substance staining his fingers.

His voice shook as he whispered, questioning, "I… I fucking did this?"