His voice sounded behind her. She turned around abruptly, but he had not entered the room—this damp, moldy basement. He stood outside the iron door, and fortunately, the door opened low enough that she could only see his straight black coat and a row of golden buttons on his chest. She didn’t have to see his face, nor did she have to let him see her unease. He stood outside her door like a vampire, rigidly and helplessly adhering to the rules of the game between vampires and humans—no matter if the door was open, he could not step into this room without the owner’s invitation.
Khanyi remained silent, but she was very clear in her heart that even if he retracted his fangs, this demon would always need to drink blood to survive, even if his next words were so gentle and pleasant.
“You don’t need to hide from me; I won’t force you to do anything.”
She did not respond, sensing that her silence would invite terrible consequences. He had always been duplicitous, saying he didn’t care, wouldn’t force her, but later would retaliate even more harshly.
This time, the outcome was unexpected. He still stood outside the door, not stepping into the room, calmly saying, “Well then, it’s up to you.”
She stood frozen in place, not moving for a long time. She did not understand why it had come to this, what he was planning to do. She had clearly defied his request by moving out of the attic room and coming to the basement. He knew she was hiding from him and was still resisting him with silence. Would he really not hold it against her, or was he just maintaining a facade of calm while brewing a greater storm behind the scenes?
The third day, the fourth day, the fifth day… a week passed.
The big house was very quiet everywhere. During the day, there was not a trace of his presence in the air, and she could no longer hear the sound of his military boots on the floor. Yet, there were clear footprints of his long boots on the floor, still carrying a bit of dirt. The small items on the storage table would occasionally change positions, and there were signs that the glass cups on the dining table had been moved. All of this clearly indicated that he must have come back. He was like a wandering soul, always returning to this house in the dead of night and quietly leaving before dawn.
Khanyi lay in bed, her body aching from a day of hard work, but she only wanted to work desperately so that she wouldn’t have time to let her mind wander. Yet, when she finally calmed down, she couldn’t help but think… She didn’t understand what he had been doing during those late-night returns, and where he hurriedly left to afterward. Perhaps he had a woman outside, or maybe he was sleeping at Ruth’s brothel at night. If that were the case, what use was she to him? He brought her back just to find someone to vent, play with, and abuse! Several times he had restrained himself, but what was meant to come would eventually come. She closed her eyes, trying to fall asleep as quickly as possible…
With her eyes closed, lying in bed, she did not see a black car quietly driving into the gate. Everything was happening silently in the dark. He arrived at the basement door, inserted the key into the lock, gently placed his gloved left hand on the door, and turned the right hand. The lock made a faint “click” sound as he opened the iron door, gently pulling it ajar. He first observed the room from outside, then bent down to enter.
The light in the room was dim, the only illumination coming from the small lamp on the corridor ceiling outside the basement door. He did not turn on the light but walked lightly toward the sleeping girl on the bed. The girl lay with her back to the door, curled up. His ice-blue eyes sparkled in the dim light as he could see her black hair scattered on the goose-down pillow. Her hair was smooth and soft, but upon closer inspection, it was a bit uneven. One particularly long strand of black hair hung down restlessly over the edge of the bed. Her body was soft and pliable, and her blanket only covered her waist. She wore a light pink short-sleeved nightgown, but her sleeping posture indicated that she was not very comfortable. She curled up as if resisting something, or perhaps afraid of being harmed. Her breathing was also uneven…
He did not approach her any closer, standing two steps away, remaining still for a moment. “Good night, my sleeping beauty,” he said, his voice very soft, as if only he could hear it, and at the same time, he slightly nodded to bid her farewell.
She had her back to him, tightly closed her eyes, and a tear slid down her cheek, dripping onto the soft goose-down pillow.
His footsteps gradually faded away. She suddenly sprang up from the bed, rushed to the half-open window, grasped the glass, and looked out into the yard. The black Mercedes had already started and was driving into the endless dark night.
Khanyi finally understood the truth about this midnight ghost. For an entire week, he had rushed back from the embassy of that country just to say goodnight to her while she slept, and then immediately left. He spared no effort in doing this, regardless of the cost; this round trip was a ten-hour journey.
He always told her fairy tales, even though the previous stories were somewhat cruel, like Cinderella in crystal shoes dancing with the handsome prince, and now he was telling her another story, personally acting as a prince. She was his Sleeping Beauty, and this prince came to the bedside of his beloved princess every night. This prince was even more affectionate than the one in the story, even reluctant to disturb the princess’s peaceful slumber, despite his deep desire to kiss her awake.
