Chapter 4 My Alzheimer attack

Joan insisted on driving me all the way home and making sure I made it to the front door before she finally drove off.

We stood on the porch in silence until she rang the bell herself but my mind .was miles away, trapped in the memory of Favier The sight of him had awakened a terrifying dark energy inside me.

I hadn't thought about him in years. After that violent night he vanished and I assumed he had died from his injuries. To find out he had been alive all this time standing right beside Wizard Klein—sent a cold, sickening chill through my spine.

The front door swung open. The moment Mira saw me standing under the porch light in a dress ruined with blood, her face twisted in shock.

"Hey what the hell is that on your clothes, weirdo? she gasped.

I didn't give her the chance to launch into her usual tirade. I brushed past her into the foyer without saying a word. But as I reached the hallway leading to my bedroom, Mr. Clark’s cold voice cut through the dark.

"Where are you coming from at this hour of the night And why are your clothes covered in blood?"

Mr. Clark had never liked me. It wasn't just because I was a stray; it was the fact that Mrs. Roseline had picked me up from the doorstep as a child and raised me as her own. In his eyes, I was a drain on his finances,a child with no name and no history.

He had never outright abused me, but he made sure I knew my place. Every time I tried to call him Father even though the word tasted like ash in my mouth. Eventually, he commanded me to address him only as Mr. Clark, and I forced myself to stick to it.

"Where are you coming from?!" he demanded again, his tone sharp.

"I went to a friend's birthday party," I replied flatly. "So?"

Mira scoffed, her lip curling in disgust. "Rude as always. I still don't understand why Mother keeps you around." She hissed, turning on her heel. "Look at the way she speaks to you, Father. Utterly disrespectful."

"Mira, stop it!" Mrs. Roseline's voice echoed from the living room. "I have warned you about speaking to her like that!"

"She's pathetic!" Mira snapped back. "Can't you see how she talks to Father?" Rolling her eyes, she stormed down the corridor.

Mr. Clark stared at me for a long, heavy moment—his eyes dark with unspoken resentment—before turning around and walking away without another word.

Mrs. Roseline rushed over, her face paling as her eyes fell on the dark wet stains across my dress. She grabbed my shoulders, turning me side to side in a panic.

"Claire, what happened to your dress?!" she whispered with her voice trembling. "Why do you look like this?"

I gently broke free from her grip. "It was just a party. You should get some sleep."

I turned and walked into my room, closing the door behind me.

I didn't mean to be cold, but I was forcing myself not to love her. I was forcing myself to forget the way my biological mother, Mrs. Sleen used to shower me with gifts and affection, even after I begged her to stop even after I reminded her of the horrifying curse she and her lover, Wizard Klein, had inflicted upon my life.

I didn't bother washing the blood off my skin. I collapsed onto the bed in my ruined dress, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Before I could close my eyes, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

The screen lit up: Dickson.

I answered, pressing the phone to my ear.

"Claire...?" Dickson’s voice came through, strained and breathless. "I... I'm so sorry for leaving you like that. My father's men dragged me away. Seeing you like that back there... I've been worried sick. Are you alright?"

"You're actually calling me back?" I asked, my voice dangerously calm. "After what I almost did to you?"

There was a long silence on the line before he spoke again, his tone raw with emotion.

"I've been wanting to tell you this, Claire... I don't care what you're going through. I don't care about your past or your demons. I've fallen in love with you. I don't even care how much you hurt me... if this is how you satisfy your cravings, then so be it."

A slow, sinister smile crept across my face as I tilted my head. "I am dangerous to you, Dickson. Do you even realize what you're signing up for? This is your only chance to walk away. I don't want to destroy you."

"I don't care, Claire!" he pleaded. "I'm already yours. I don't care if my father locks me up—I will always find a way to see you. Meet me at the Dripson Estate gardens. It's secluded enough for us to be alone."

I scoffed softly. "That lonely garden... you really have no idea what you're doing, do you? Your father hates me."

"I don't care about him!" Dickson shouted softly into the receiver. "I don't care what he does, and I don't care if he refuses to approve of us. I'll run away with you!"

"Is that how much you love me?" I asked, probing deeper. "Does your father love you like that?"

Dickson let out a hollow laugh. "My father has never loved me. I've never felt an ounce of affection from him. He treats me like trash... I was shocked when he suddenly started interfering in my life, trying to keep me away from you."

"I know," I whispered, a dark realization settling in my mind. "He doesn't need to love you."

I nodded to the empty room. "Fine. I'll meet you in the garden if that's what you want. But my desires are dark, Dickson. My idea of satisfaction is rough... violent. Are you sure you can handle it?"

Dickson’s voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. "I don't mind, Claire. If you accept me... I will accept everything about you."

Without another word, I ended the call.

My mind flashed back to the last man I had nearly killed. He had hated me ever since, sending the police to hunt me down month after month, while Mrs. Roseline used her connections to shield me. I had left that man broken—his stomach slashed, his leg shattered.

Why? I asked myself, staring up at the dark ceiling. Why can't I feel normal love? Why does intimacy only trigger this bloodlust inside me?

The terrifying truth pulled me off the bed. Time was running out. The Alzheimer’s attacks and the brain damage caused by Klein's ancient curse—were degrading my mind faster every day.

I remembered my mother, Mrs. Sleek, weeping on her knees, begging Wizard Klein for that glowing chemical liquid he synthesized in his laboratory. That serum was the only thing that halted the attack in my brain.

It was the sole reason my mother had sacrificed her body to him month after month—just to secure a single syringe that would keep me alive and functional for thirty days. The last time she gave herself to Klein, he handed her a small case packed with vials... a supply that had kept me alive since I was a child.

Gently, I crossed the room and pulled a hidden box out from beneath the floorboards.

I opened the velvet lining and only three syringes remained.

Three months.Three months before my brain completely deteriorates and I die. Unless I force the permanent cure out of Wizard Klein's hands.

I exhaled slowly, shutting the case and sliding it back into the dark. At least the monster was alive. My hunt wouldn't be in vain. And now... I had his precious son right where I wanted him.

BANG...BANG!

A heavy fist slammed against my bedroom door, shattering the quiet thoughts of my mind.

"Open the door, Claire!" Mira's shrill voice screamed from the hallway, hammering continuously against the wood. "Open this damn door right now!"