How do I talk to her? How do I reply? The men in black are not going to tell me, that’s for sure. Maybe if I just think hard enough . . .

I’m in a car.

Why are you in a car.

Oh my God. It worked!

Stop flustering around and tell me what happened.

The men in black took me.

Who are the men in black.

I don’t know.

What do you mean.

I don’t know!

Don’t yell. Describe them.

They’re dressed in black suits and they wear shades. They put me in a black limo and I don’t know where we are now.

Does the black limo have lotus prints in its interior?

Trying my best to keep my head still, I roll my eyes as much as I can to look around the interior. It’s sleek black leather everywhere. No lotus. What about the top—holy cow—lotuses everywhere in repeated print.

Reporting in, lotus spotted, lotus spotted.

Ms Pink doesn’t reply but before I can ‘talk’ to her again, the roof of the limo unhinges and folds back into a compartment behind. A convertible limo? Just how rich is this ‘master’ I’m about to meet? And why isn’t there a trace of fear in me? This is some kind of effect that comes with the Erika-hood? At any rate, being a fledgling Erika isn’t stopping the men in black from hauling me out of the topless limo and marching me straight up the tremendous flight of stairs snaking around the dark stone building.

Yes. I have not gone completely insane yet. There is, in fact, a flight of stairs about as wide as three of my shoulders carved out of the stone structure. It goes around from side to side but there is no visible door. This is a weird mansion, therefore the master must be weird too. Not unlike Ms Pink . . .

As the men in black carry me up the stairs, I can’t help but notice how well-maintained the walls are. Not a single weed or wild plant can be found on it, which is amazing because of the numerous gaps and cracks in the stone. The men in black stop along a midsection of the wall although the stairs continue on. They set me down, their hands keeping a firm on me, and stare at the wall.

What are they doing? I stare at the wall too, trying to look for a sign or an abnormality, and the wall begins to disappear, stone by stone, as I blink in surprise. The men in black enter through the gap in the wall and I twist around to see the wall magically reappearing stone by stone. Then the million dollar question hits me. How will I ever escape from this place?

Looking around me, I realize that this place is quite the opposite of Ms Pink’s. While Ms Pink’s castle is all pink inside, this interior is all black. Black feathers, black leather, black velvet, black fur, you name it, this place has got it. The plush carpet that spans the entire hall way is magnificent to look at. The dim orangey lights bounce off the velvety fur and produce a hypnotic sheen that makes it look ten times more regal than it probably is. All around us, the walls are covered in jet black wallpaper with more lotus prints, golden like in the car. The chandeliers are black too, with golden details and the pendalogue prisms that hang from its arms are large and odd-shaped. Yet, they fragment light passing through them into seven different colours, beaming rainbows all across the ceiling in a curious pattern. It’s magical and I would be in greater awe than ever if it weren’t for the fact that I’m not sure if I’ll be able to stay alive for much longer.

I am brought into a room that feels more like an indoor stadium than the size it actually is. I know it sounds oxymoronic but that’s how the room makes me feel. It is dim and the black wallpaper seems blacker here, if that’s even possible.What is it with wealthy vampires and their extreme colour themes? Why can’t they mix it up a little? Golden sculptures line the side of the room and there are little stones rising from the floor that demarcate the area we are to walk through. As I step forward, I focus on the black and gold chair. It looks a lot more like a throne, to be honest, with its intricate carvings into its edges and legs, but I don’t want to acknowledge the fact. The master of this place is no king or queen.

The men in black press down on my shoulders, pulling me from my inner thoughts. I look at them, puzzled by what they want me to do. Until one of them kicks me behind my knee, effectively buckling my legs so that I end up kneeling on the carpeted floor. Right, they want me to kneel. Why didn’t they just say so? With their hands still gripping my arms, they get down on one bended knee and lower their heads. Why are we kneeling?

“Kim, Tae, Yeon.”

Where did the voice come from? I’m not hearing things again, am I?

“Human and bait. A bait indeed.”

Out from behind the black and gold throne-like chair comes a cat. A cat with a coat of thick black fur. And pink eyes. This is weird as . But as weird as a black cat with pink eyes is to me, nothing can beat witnessing the cat morphing into a woman right before my very eyes. Oh my God. She doesn’t even miss a step as she morphs into-into C-Cleopatra?

The woman smiles. “I am not Cleopatra, silly. I, am Helene.”

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