My Stepmom Is A Vampire & Her Entire Bloodline Wants To Breed Me

Chapter 195: The Black Widow

Maria buttoned the last clasp of the white shirt with stiff fingers, the fabric clinging uncomfortably to her shoulders.

The black skirt that came with it was far too short for her liking, riding up every time she shifted her weight, but there was no alternative. Complaints could wait. Survival came first.

Across the room, Diane worked with efficiency. She had already neutralized two staff members, moving fast and precise, dragging their unconscious bodies into the shadowed corner without hesitation or noise.

There was no discussion, no coordination spoken aloud. Maria understood why, but she chose not to bring it up. As long as they functioned as a team, things would hold.

By the time Maria finished adjusting her clothes, Diane was already dressed in a fitted black shirt and long black trousers, a red-tagged name badge clipped neatly to her chest.

Sunglasses completed the look, transforming her into an indistinguishable part of the club’s security.

"Let’s go," Diane said, her tone flat and businesslike.

They approached the door marked STAFF ONLY together. The bodyguard stationed there barely spared them a glance, only nodding once before stepping aside.

The ease of it sent a faint chill down Maria’s spine. Something about this felt wrong, but hesitation would only draw attention.

Beyond the door stretched a long, sterile hallway. White walls, white floors, polished and seamless, reflecting the overhead lights like a hospital corridor.

"Stay close," Maria said quietly. "I know you don’t like me, but—"

"Don’t misunderstand me," Diane interrupted without slowing. "I don’t hate you, and I don’t feel anything personal toward you either."

Her voice was cold, detached. "I’ll protect you as much as I can, but don’t become my burden."

Maria nodded, accepting it without argument. Right now, that was enough.

They walked deeper, the hallway branching again and again, each turn identical to the last. No music, no voices, not even vampires. Just silence stretching unnaturally far.

Diane stopped abruptly. "Something’s wrong," she said. "This feels like Corvane’s estate."

Before Maria could ask what she meant, the temperature dropped sharply. The white walls darkened, black spreading across them like ink in water. Red pinpricks appeared, dozens, then hundreds, staring from every surface.

Maria’s breath caught. "Eyes..."

They moved instinctively, backs pressed together. Maria raised the gun Andrew had given her, while Diane summoned her scythe from her spine, its presence solid and reassuring.

Then the eyes moved and leapt!

"Spiders!" Maria shouted as realization struck.

"Black widows! Don’t let them bite you, they’re venomous!" Diane added.

Under normal circumstances, a single bite wouldn’t be fatal. In these numbers, it would be a death sentence. And there was no guarantee these were ordinary creatures.

"I’ll try," Maria muttered, already firing.

The gun roared, not with sound but force. Each shot detonated on impact, tearing clusters of spiders apart in violent bursts.

Andrew’s lessons snapped into focus. This wasn’t a firearm that used bullets. It was powered by Vitalis Core usually used for Vampire Hunter, and for vampires like her, Sanguine Veins could shape the output itself without that core.

Still, it wasn’t enough.

The spiders kept coming, spilling across the walls and ceiling, crawling over their clothes, their skin, their hair.

The sensation was unbearable, cold legs skittering everywhere. Panic clawed at Maria’s throat.

"Move!" Diane shouted. "Keep moving!"

Diane charged first, carving a path through the swarm, her scythe flashing as it cut down anything in front of them.

Maria followed close behind, firing backward, destroying what pursued them. The hallway behind them was swallowed in black, spiders pouring over the door they’d just passed through.

"There!" Maria gasped as a silver door came into view, its surface barely visible beneath the crawling mass.

She fired again, blasting the spiders off the metal. Diane lunged forward, slamming her name tag against the scanner. The light blinked once, then turned green.

The door slid open.

They threw themselves inside just as it sealed shut behind them, cutting off the writhing darkness outside. Both women stood there, breathing hard, weapons still raised, the silence pressing down heavier than before.

Diane leaned back against the sealed door, her breathing uneven and sharp, sweat sliding down her temples as she struggled to steady herself.

"What was that?" she muttered finally. "An illusion?"

Maria sank to the floor beside her, pressing a hand to her chest as she exhaled slowly. "It had to be. There’s no way that was real," she said, though her voice lacked conviction.

"Maybe some kind of Bloodstyle. A spatial one, or something tied to perception."

"It could be," Diane replied, her gaze drifting across the room. "But this place isn’t normal. This feels exactly like Corvane’s estate."

Maria swallowed hard. The memory surfaced instantly, uninvited. The moment they stepped inside that living nightmare, searching for Seamus, only to be violently expelled by Lady Crow into the garden like intruders who didn’t belong. The sensation was the same now. The air felt aware. The walls were watching and breathing.

"This place feels alive," Maria said quietly.

They fell silent when voices echoed ahead.

"The harvest was great."

"Yeah, but we need to move to another city. I don’t think there are any teenagers or children left here."

"I know right? Especially when we need to destroy our lab in Bellya."

Maria and Diane exchanged a look, unease tightening in their chests. Ahead of them stood a massive observation window, its surface pristine and white at first glance.

As they approached, movement above caught their attention. Something dropped through a wide tube overhead.

A body.

It slammed into a growing pile of corpses below, the sound dull and sick. The floor beneath the pile darkened instantly, turning pitch black, while the surrounding walls began to rot and peel as if decomposing along with the dead.

Staff members moved with indifference, lifting bodies one by one and dragging them toward a grotesque opening in the wall.

A mouth.

It opened wider as they approached, metal and flesh blending into something unnatural. Flames erupted from within as corpses were tossed inside, the fire shifting from blue to a deep, blood-red hue.

"Careful," one staff member said lazily. "That thing’s greedy."

"I know," another replied. "Relax."

Diane’s jaw tightened. She met Maria’s eyes again, the decision made without a word. Violence was no longer optional.

They noticed the elevator nearby and slipped inside. Weapons were concealed behind their backs as the lift descended. The hum of machinery filled the silence until the doors slid open at the lower level.

Maria leaned closer to Diane and whispered, "Bianca, any surveillance?"

The doll remained silent for a moment. Then its glassy eyes glowed red.

"Yes," Bianca replied. "Cameras at every corner. Four in total."

"Can you disable them?" Maria asked.

"No," Bianca answered calmly. "But you can shoot them."

Maria nodded. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do.

She stepped forward first, firing with precision. The cameras shattered instantly, sparks flying as the feeds went dead. At the same moment, one of the two staff members sees them, confusion flickering across their faces.

"Hey!" one shouted. "Who are you? You can’t be in here—"

Diane moved before the sentence could finish. She crossed the distance in a blur and drove her blade straight into the man’s Vitalis Core. He collapsed without a sound.

Maria finished disabling the last camera as the remaining staff member, who had been busy disposing of bodies, finally turned around.

"Why aren’t you moving—" he began.

He stopped when cold steel pressed against his throat.

Diane’s voice was low and merciless. "Tell us everything," she said, tightening her grip. "And you live."

The man’s fear was unmistakable. His eyes were wide, pupils shaking as he nodded too fast, breath coming out in broken gasps. He didn’t look powerful at all, despite clearly being a vampire.

Maria guessed he hadn’t evolved yet, barely more than a worker.

She pressed the muzzle of the gun closer to his head. "What is this place?" she demanded calmly. "Where do those corpses come from, and why are there so many of them?"

The man’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. "I–I can’t answer that," he stammered. "The blood pact forbids it."

Diane exhaled sharply in irritation. Of course. Just like Otto. Every disposable servant here was chained by the same invisible leash. She was about to snap back when the man’s expression abruptly changed.

The panic didn’t disappear, but something emptied out of his eyes, as if a switch had been flipped inside his head.

"The answers are on the upper middle floor," he said suddenly, his voice flat and hollow. "The tube connects to that level. You only need to take the lift."

He raised a trembling finger and pointed toward the elevator.

Maria and Diane exchanged a glance. Something about the way he spoke felt wrong, rehearsed, unnatural.

"Maria," Diane said quietly, never taking her eyes off him. "Is he being controlled?"

Maria narrowed her gaze, focusing hard. After a moment, she shook her head. "No. I don’t see any strings."

The man hurried to speak again, desperation creeping back into his tone. "There’s only one way in and out of this place," he insisted. "I won’t attack you, I swear. Just let me go."

The promise rang hollow. Still, what he said aligned with what they already suspected. Bianca’s silence confirmed it a second later, the unspoken agreement settling heavily between them. There was no alternate path. No hidden exit. No clever detour.

Only up.

Maria lowered the gun slightly, though she didn’t relax. Diane withdrew her blade just enough to remind him that mercy was conditional.

Neither of them trusted him, not his fear, not his words, not the way this place seemed to bend people’s minds without leaving visible marks.

They looked at each other once more, understanding passing between them without the need for speech.

They didn’t have a choice.