The Dread of Dmaned

After drinking my fill, I let go of the pink bud, which looked even more enticing with a few drops of blood still clinging to it. Unable to resist, I licked them off, savoring every last bit. My stomach was full, but the thirst within me lingered, though now it felt like I had a firmer grasp on it. I looked up, and the woman picked me up, kissing my cheeks tenderly. She adjusted her white silk gown, which I noticed was intricately embroidered with patterns of shimmering silver thread.

The elderly woman then brought over a white wooden tub and placed it on the bed beside us. I watched as the woman dipped a soft white cloth into the water and brought it towards me. After a few minutes, I felt refreshed, thoroughly cleaned by her gentle hands. She picked up a white silk cloth, similarly embroidered with silver patterns, though distinct from her gown, and wrapped me in it snugly.

A wave of drowsiness overtook me. After all, what else could I do but sleep after being fed and bathed? I was in the body of a newborn, after all.

As I drifted off, I saw the large man approach, saying something in a deep voice that I couldn't understand, before he turned and left. The little girl, meanwhile, climbed onto the bed, touching my face with small, curious hands as she spoke to the woman. I was too tired to continue trying to understand their language, and the woman's gentle swaying lulled me to sleep.

When I awoke, the first thing I saw was her face—still serene and angelic in her sleep, just as it had been before. This wasn't a dream, then. This was my reality. The idea filled me with curiosity—I wanted to know more about this strange place and the people around me. I felt a pang of frustration that I couldn't understand them, nor could I communicate.

I looked around and noticed that the curtains were now drawn, blocking out any sunlight from outside. Despite it being daytime, the room remained softly illuminated by the glow of several lamps. The curtains were thick and effective, allowing not even a sliver of sunlight to penetrate the room.

This soon became my daily routine. The woman would wake up, feed me from her breast, then leave for a time, leaving me in the care of the elderly woman. When she returned, she would bathe me, after which the man and the little girl would visit, playing with me and talking, though I still couldn't understand their words.

Every few days, I was taken out of the room, which I appreciated as I was starting to grow bored within those white walls. The castle itself, as I came to see, was grand beyond belief, with high vaulted ceilings and an otherworldly elegance. People moved through its vast halls, some of whom had white hair and eyes like the women , man and the child , though theirs were duller, almost muddied—not nearly as striking regal , or alluring as the women's or maybe I had seen hers and my standard had become to high who knows.

I also noticed a peculiar detail—the entire castle was white. Everything, from the walls, floors, and furniture to the clothes and accessories, was some shade of white. There was something almost ethereal about it, as though it belonged to a world untouched by time.

Eventually, I was taken outside the castle. I was awestruck to find that it was surrounded by tall trees, almost as if it stood in the middle of an ancient forest. There was a large waterfall nearby, its roar muted by the distance, and a long driveway leading up to the castle. The structure itself reminded me somewhat of the Taj Mahal from my previous life, only much grander and more intricate in its design—an architectural marvel.

There were smaller buildings scattered around the massive castle, housing people who seemed to work or live there. Whenever I was carried past, people would stop and bow respectfully to both me and my caretaker before continuing with their tasks. It all felt like something out of a storybook or a comic.

Time passed, and I found myself becoming more observant of my surroundings. I noticed that there was no electricity, no internet, and no cars. Every morning, the curtains were drawn to keep out the sunlight, while the lamps were lit to keep the interior softly aglow. At night, the moonlight would spill in through the large windows, bathing everything in a silvery glow. The intricate patterns on the doors and fabrics often formed shapes reminiscent of the moon.

My curiosity about this strange world only grew with each passing day.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and eventually, months into years.

And finally, the time had come.