Lockette ❤︎

At the dining table sits an older woman with striking azure eyes that seem to pierce through the room. Her black hair, nicely dyed, frames her face, which is largely free of wrinkles, hinting at her detailed self-care. Beside her is an older man whose short, gray hair complements his well-worn features; deep-set green eyes reveal a life of experiences, etched in the numerous wrinkles that map his face.

Across from them is a younger man with a commanding presence. His short, rich brown hair is styled neatly, while his striking red eyes add an otherworldly intensity to his gaze. He shares the same facial structure as both Hazel and Coral but shows a stronger masculinity. A serious aura surrounds him, making his handsome features evident.

“Grandpa Dave and Grandma Elizabeth have gone out on an errand, leaving me in charge.” Harlyn declares, his tone sharp as he casts a quick, scrutinizing glance at his two younger siblings, who are fidgeting restlessly by the door.

“Hello!” Hazel and Coral chime in together, their voices ringing out in unison. An undeniable flicker of annoyance passes between them as they shoot quick glares at each other before forcing on bright, although strained, smiles.

“You two are just adorable!” Aunt Harper beams, her gentle smile lighting up her kind features. Her warm voice wraps around the two like a cozy blanket. “Harlyn, you’re doing an amazing job looking after them. They’re as well-mannered as you are.”

With a hint of pride in his stern demeanor, Harlyn responds, “Well, Aunt Harper, I learned from the best. There can’t be any shortage of good behavior in those closest to the leaders of this clan.” His words slice through the air, cold and unwavering, reflecting the weight of responsibility he carries.

As Hazel sits in the spacious dining room of the mansion, a sense of unease settles over her as she ponders the unusual circumstances of the day. Aunt Harper and her partner, Kei, had arrived unexpectedly, and Hazel couldn’t shake the feeling that their presence was a start to something significant. Meanwhile, her grandparents, Grandpa Dave and Grandma Elizabeth, had departed early that morning, leaving questions about their whereabouts. What could be so important that they needed to leave on this particular day?

As Hazel’s thoughts dart between questions, she observes Aunt Harper, who wears a soft smile as she cradles a lukewarm cup of vanilla tea. “I’m so excited about the ritual later tonight,” Aunt Harper says, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. “My sweet, sweet Erika has been waiting for this very day.” The mention of Erika brings a sudden sense of gravity to the room.

Across the room, Kei sits quietly, his demeanor contrasting sharply with Aunt Harper’s enthusiasm. A shadow of distress crosses his face, something deep and troubling that seems to isolate him from the warmth of the gathering.

Hazel catches his gaze, and for a fleeting moment, an unspoken connection passes between them. Kei’s eyes widened with a flicker of nervousness, prompting him to offer a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Before Hazel could gather her courage to ask about his noticeable distress, Coral’s direct tone breaks the silence. “Kei, what’s wrong?” She inquires, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife through fog.

Hazel’s heart races as she braces herself for Kei’s response, knowing full well that the answer might uncover secret resentment.

“Nothing is wrong.” Kei asserts, his voice sharp and quick, as if trying to avoid an approaching storm. Harlyn narrows his eyes, shifting his gaze between Coral and Kei, a frown deepening his brow. “Hm, you’re lying,” he replies, a hint of disappointment lacing his words. “Please don’t lie.” His tone is stern.

The atmosphere thickens with tension, an uncomfortable silence forms around the room. Those present shift uncomfortably, their unease evident. Hazel casts her eyes downward, the wood of the table drawing her focus as she avoids the piercing gazes around her.

Aunt Harper’s glare burns into Kei, her disapproval evident. Kei meets her fiery stare with equal intensity, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “Erika doesn’t want to do the ritual,” he declares boldly, his voice firm and unwavering. “She should have the right to choose whether or not she wants to go through with it.” Harlyn folds his arms across his chest, disliking when others don’t follow the rules, “Even if that’s true, everything has already been decided. Would you like to take her place Kei? Might as well have two people!” Harlyn exclaims, still having a tone cold as ice. Coral snickers, smirking with intrigue. Amusement is written all over her face and Harlyn’s alike.

Kei’s face grows pale, he becomes fearful. Aunt Harper shakes her head, “Let’s not think that way. Besides, Erika has to be used in the ritual. What’s been decided is already set in stone.”

Harlyn agrees, “That’s right. Nothing will be undone.” He states, “The ritual has to happen. Anyone who opposes it will be punished severely.” Kei is quiet and upset, his green eyes make it evident exactly how he is feeling.

He does not like any of this at all. Aunt Harper slightly feels the same way but is content, wanting Erika, her own flesh and blood to be sacrificed for the greater good. Is killing one bird better than killing them all? Or maybe that saying isn’t true to begin with. Hazel takes a deep breath, glancing around at the faces in the room. She wears a calm expression, but underneath, a storm of emotions brews-upset and a tinge of guilt pulling at her. Although she’s skilled at hiding her feelings, a cold, piercing look from Harlyn snaps her back to reality, making her feel exposed and uncertain.

Kei has regained his calm demeanor while Aunt Harper looks pleased. Standing up from the dining table, she says, “Thank you for speaking with us, Harlyn. We will check on Erika and prepare for tonight’s ritual.” Harlyn stands up and hugs Aunt Harper, then pulls away with a kind smile. “You’re welcome. See you later.”

As Aunt Harper and Kei exit the dining room, Harlyn glances at Hazel and Coral. “We should all get ready for the ritual ceremony tonight.” He suggests. Coral nods in agreement, and Hazel does too, although she has her thoughts about the event.

The twins are about to leave the room when Harlyn’s words stop them. “You’re scared, aren’t you?” The question strikes Hazel hard, and she turns around to nod. “I’m worried too. What if something bad happens at the ritual? Kei seems to be against the whole thing…”

“Kei will come around. He must do what’s best for this clan-our clan. If he tries anything, he will be eliminated.” Harlyn declares, looking emotionless, almost like a robot who refuses to defy clan rules.

Coral had already left. Hazel nods at her older brother’s words, then quickly heads upstairs, lost in thought. She feels a sense of guilt but doesn’t understand why. Finally, she reaches her room on the second floor and closes the door behind her.

「 🥀 」

In a softly lit guest room, a young woman sits in despair, her azure eyes reflecting a mix of fear and longing. Her short brown hair frames her delicate face, underlining the worried expression that lingers there. Dressed in an ethereal, all-white gown that flows gently around her, she looks almost angelic despite the chaos within. Positioned near a large windowsill, Erika stares longingly out at the breathtaking expanse of the blue sky, filled with fluffy white clouds drifting lazily by.

*If only I could leave…*

The thought echoes in her mind, her gaze shifting momentarily to the heavy door that stands as a barrier between her and freedom.

The door is locked.

That much she knows all too well.

With a sudden rush of desperation, Erika rises to her feet, her heart pounding as she surveys her surroundings. Tears begin to flow, falling down her cheeks as the weight of her situation crashes over her like a tidal wave. She does not want to be sacrificed. This burden has been designated to her because “someone” revealed that she alone could save the clan from destruction. When no outsiders could be found for the grim task, it was decreed that a member of their own must step forward-whether out of willingness or sheer pressure.

In this grim reality, both outsiders and kin face the grim expectation of sacrifice. Yet, despite the darkness, her stepfather, Kei, understands her fear. He knows that Erika is terrified at the thought of being chosen and desires to do whatever it takes to help her escape this dreadful destiny.

Everyone should know how cruel this clan is.

So cruel.

Too cruel.

Very cruel.

Yet very beautiful just as the outside world can be cruel and beautiful at the same time. Erika wipes away her tears and sits on the bed. She glances up at the ceiling, wishing for a chance to live. She doesn’t want to die for many others to live and be happy.

Erika understands that if no one is sacrificed then bad things are bound to happen. Yet can she be selfish because her own life is far more precious? Or go ahead and become the ultimate sacrifice? For what?! Just because the leaders of this clan didn’t find a sacrifice from outside the family?

Erika’s mind thinks more and more, creating a thick mist of anger inside her mind:

*Tch…..I hate this. I hate it here so much. Why me? Why are things like this? Why do I have to die?*

Erika despises her clan mainly because most members boast about their beauty and wealth, often belittling others to feel superior. However, she knows a few people in the clan who are different, and one of them is her dear friend, Hazel Vermillion.

Erika has a deep fondness for Hazel and loves her dearly. She believes that if her sacrifice can save Hazel, it would be worth it. But Hazel is just one person, and the majority of the clan does not share her kindness.

Erika realizes she will have to conform to their expectations and play the role of a sacrificial lamb so that everyone else in her clan can live happily. It feels like a foolish decision-it’s impossible for everyone to be happy, and in the end, they won’t be. No single person should have to suffer like this.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Erika jumps from being startled, her heart racing as she notices the sound of a key turning in the lock. Her eyes dart to the door, and to her astonishment, Coral stands there, a ring of jangling keys hanging from her fingers. Behind her, Erika’s stepdad, Kei, enters the room, balancing a plate of food and a glass of water. He moves systematically, placing the offerings on the desk with conscious care. When his gaze meets Erika’s, a silent understanding passes between them, almost as if they were communicating without words. But just as quickly, he averted his eyes, determination etched on his face, and exited the room without uttering a single word.

The silence that is in the room, abruptly shatters by Coral’s voice, dripping with sarcasm and hostility. “Enjoy this delicious last meal!” She taunts, a smirk dancing on her lips before she abruptly slams the door shut and locks it, leaving Erika to stew in her frustration. If only she could unleash her anger on Coral.

With a heavy sigh, Erika approaches the desk, her gaze drawn to the steaming plate before her.

The meal was an unexpected sight: a golden-brown croissant, its flaky layers glistening with melted butter, sat beside bright green beans that shimmered with a hint of olive oil.

A pile of fluffy white rice accompanied a juicy piece of baked chicken, its skin perfectly browned and crispy, while a small cup of mixed fruits added a splash of color to the plate.

Despite her circumstances, hunger overcomes her anger. Erika picks up her fork and begins to eat, the flavors of each bite bringing a momentary sense of comfort. The croissant crumbles pleasantly in her mouth, the savory chicken brings a warmth that settles in her stomach, and the sweet fruits are a refreshing counterbalance.

Yet, with each bite, she can’t shake the feeling of emptiness that lingers just beneath the surface, a gnawing reminder that this brief solace will not last.

As Erika enjoys this very ‘last meal‘, halfway done, she ends up feeling a bit strange and drowsy. She tries to fight it off but loses consciousness as her face falls flat into the plate of half-eaten food that she has just consumed.

Two men enter the room, both members of the Vermillion Clan. The first man sports dark blond hair tied back into a neat ponytail, underlining his striking azure eye that is a reminder of the sky on a clear day.

Beside him stands the second man, who has closely cropped black hair, and piercing red eyes that seem to smolder with an inner fire.

Together, they approach Erika, their intentions clear as they grasp her shoulders firmly.

Without a word, they begin to drag her out of the room, urgency in their movements. The ritual is close, and despite it being just noon, the preparations have already commenced. Erika struggles slightly, but the men are resolute, their determination unwavering.

As they lead her deeper into the mansion, they move towards a grand theater. The space is magnificent, with high ceilings and ornate decor that speaks of both age and careful maintenance over the years. Despite its grandeur, there’s an unmistakable air of dignity, as if this theater serves not merely as a stage for performances but also as a sacred venue for darker matters.

They bring Erika to a back room situated just behind the stage. The atmosphere turns tense as the two men swiftly tie her up with rough rope, securing her to a cold, metallic operating table. She lies there, heart racing, the weight of the nearing ritual hanging heavy in the air as she realizes the gravity of her situation.

“Do you think Lady Shuiro will accept this offer? She has no choice.” One of the men murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with uncertainty as he glances around, as if the shadows themselves are listening intently.

“She will. Lady Shuiro always honors our sacrificial offers.” The other man responds, his demeanor firm and resolute. “If she refuses this time, it could unleash chaos like we’ve never seen before.”

Lady Shuiro-her name carries weight, flowing through the clan like a red string of fate.

Each member understands her significance; she is the vital force holding the Vermillion Clan together, preventing it from collapsing into despair. The sacrificial offerings serve as a binding element, maintaining the secure balance that keeps destruction at bay.

Around them, the atmosphere crackles with anxiety. Faces mask a blend of hope and fear, many fervently praying that the dire fate of chaos can be avoided. The stakes are high, and the elders whisper their concerns, casting wary glances toward the shadows that seem to close in.

As discussions die down, an unspoken tension fills the space-an awareness that every decision could tip the scales, condemning them or granting false salvation.

「 🥀 」

“Mmm… Ms. Mena!” Hazel calls out, her voice soft, almost like a whisper as she sits at a sturdy wooden desk within a vibrant classroom.

Her brow furrows in concentration, struggling with a challenging math problem. Ms. Mena, with a gentle smile, has dark blonde hair and piercing gray eyes, gliding over to Hazel, her heels clicking softly on the polished floor.

“What is it, sweetie?” Ms. Mena asks, as she looks down to meet Hazel’s gaze. The warm smile on her face reflects her genuine desire to help.

Hazel looks up, her cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment, feeling the pressure of not finishing her homework assignment the day before. “I need help.” She admits, biting her lip.

With a reassuring nod, Ms. Mena begins to explain the tricky math concept, her voice calm and encouraging.

Hazel leans in, eyes wide with focus, absorbing each step as Ms. Mena breaks down the problem into manageable parts. After a few intense minutes of concentration, a spark of understanding lights up Hazel’s face. “I did it! Thank you so much, Ms. Mena!” She beams, pride radiating from her.

“All because of you, I finally know how to divide difficult problems. Even if I don’t like math, you make it fun!” She laughs, her earlier anxiety replaced by a rush of accomplishment as she hands over her completed worksheet. Ms. Mena receives it with a gracious smile, tucking it neatly on her desk.

“I’m a teacher, and it’s my job to explain.” Ms. Mena replies, her voice warm and supportive. “Despite your feelings about math, Hazel, I can see you have a talent for it.”

Hazel shrugs playfully, a hint of confidence returning. “I’d rather be good at it than great. English and artistic endeavors are where my heart truly lies.” She says, a bright smile illuminating Hazel’s face as she begins to gather her belongings.

Ms. Mena watches as Hazel packs her notebooks and pencils into her school bag, feeling a mix of pride and affection for her student. “See you tonight, Hazel. Everyone is going to the ritual, and I’ll be there too.” She adds, settling into her comfortable chair behind her desk.

“Nice! Don’t be late, and see you later!” Hazel replies, her small smile lingering for a moment before she exits the classroom, the happiness gradually slipping away as she steps into the mansion’s hallway, shadows creeping in the corners, mirroring the worries that cloud her mind.

She descends the grand staircase to the second floor, the plush carpet muffling her footsteps as she makes her way to her room. Upon entering, she shuts the door with a quiet click and falls back onto her soft, fluffy bed, the familiar comfort enveloping her. In that moment, she wishes she could drift off into a deep, eternal slumber.

She lets out a long, weary yawn and rolls onto her back, staring at the ornate ceiling, a sense of dread gnawing at her heart like a relentless tide.

Just then, the door bursts open without warning, and her twin sister, Coral, enters the room.

“Hazel! Hazel! Hazel! James and Blair are here!” Coral exclaims, her red eyes sparkling with excitement.

“This early? I just want to be left alone in my room.” Hazel groans, embarrassment flooding her cheeks as she sits up from her bed.

“I’m going to tell Harlyn!” Coral retorts with a playful smirk, clearly enjoying her sister’s discomfort.

“Knock next time before you barge in!” Hazel insists, a hint of authority breaking through her embarrassment as she stands up, debating on whether or not she should follow Coral or go elsewhere.

She shakes her head vigorously, her resolve firm. “I’m staying right here. I don’t care if I get in trouble.”

“Suit yourself, crybaby!” Coral laughs, a teasing tone to her voice, before darting out of the room.

Hazel settles back onto her bed, a nervous energy swirling in her stomach as she slightly prepares to meet James and his little son, Blair. The possibility of seeing James makes her heart flutter, intensified by the crush she had been harboring for him. She had spent countless evenings sketching him, pouring her feelings onto the page with each pencil stroke, and these drawings are tucked away in a secret spot-hidden from prying eyes.

The thought of someone discovering her intimate portraits sent a shiver down her spine. Only one person was aware of her feelings: her cheerful close friend, Erika. Just a week ago, while Hazel had been blissfully absorbed in her art, crafting yet another detailed sketch, Erika had crept up behind her in the cozy living room.

As Erika peered closer, she caught sight of the striking portrait of James Kingsworthy and erupted into a fit of giggles. The sound jolted Hazel from her creative zone, and she gasped, her heart racing as she jumped up from the couch and spun to face her friend. “E-Erika?!?”

With a playful smirk dancing on her lips, Erika teased, “I know who that is. Why are you drawing him?”

Caught off guard, Hazel’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson. “I need inspiration for my next drawing!” She stammered, her voice a defensive squeak. Erika shook her head, her expression cheeky and knowing. “I don’t buy it. You’re drawing James Kingsworthy because you’re in love with him.”

Heat flooded Hazel’s face, embarrassment washing over her like a tidal wave. “You caught me! Do you think less of me? Will you tell Grandpa Dave and Grandma Elizabeth?”

Erika shook her head vigorously, “Nope! I won’t breathe a word to anyone. And honestly, who could blame you? James Kingsworthy is undeniably handsome, but he is quite a bit older than you. Are you going to confess your feelings?”

The idea of confessing had never crossed Hazel’s mind, but Erika’s words ignited a flicker of excitement within her. “Maybe.” She mused, her heart racing at the thought.

Erika clapped her hands in delight, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Splendid! I hope the two of you fall head over heels and have a bunch of adorable kids!” She chimed, bursting into another fit of giggles.

Embarrassed, Hazel laughed along, playfully swatting at her friend. Just then, Erika lunged forward and tickled her, and the two of them were enveloped in bubbly laughter-a moment frozen in time, now a cherished memory.

However, as that bubble of happiness fades away, a bittersweet smile lingers on Hazel’s lips, only for it to change to a sad frown as thoughts of Harlyn plague her mind. A frown tugs at her features, and she feels the weight of her emotions pressing down on her.

Determined to shake off the gloom, Hazel slaps her hands against her cheeks, trying to jolt herself back to confidence. “Get over it, Hazel. Let’s go.” She whispers, a small but resolute pep talk to herself. With newfound determination, she rises to her feet, casting aside her worries, and swiftly exits her room, going somewhere but not to see James Kingsworthy and the others. Where could she be going?