Reborn as an Yandere : Yandere X Yandere

"Disgusting... Disgusting... Disgusting..."

Everything tastes disgusting. 

A young girl, barely nine years old, with long silver hair and skin as pale as snow, sat by the window of her grand room, gazing out at the sky. Her deep red eyes, sharp and intense, were fixed on the vast expanse above. The word "disgusting" echoed in her mind, over and over again.

This girl was none other than Lortell Mariette, the arch-duke's daughter, living in a luxurious palace that most people couldn't even dream of. The walls were adorned with gold, the floors polished to a mirror-like shine, and the rooms were filled with treasures beyond imagination. Yet, none of it seemed to matter to her. The beauty of the mansion didn't stir even the slightest emotion in her heart.

Lortell's face remained expressionless as she let out a soft sigh. Without a second thought, she jumped down from the window, landing gracefully on the floor of her room. She turned back, her eyes no longer on the sky but on the garden below, where other children her age were playing.

Down in the garden, laughter and chatter filled the air. A group of children were running around, their faces lit with joy and excitement. But Lortell remained distant, detached from their happiness.

"Hey, are you going to do it today, or are you just all talk?" one boy teased his friend.

"I know, Gotham," the other boy replied, glancing nervously towards Lortell's window. "I wanted to talk to Lortell, but her red eyes and that vampire-like skin give me chills. And that expressionless face of hers... it makes any conversation feel so awkward. But I have to get her interested in me, no matter what."

Gotham, the first boy, frowned, unease flickering in his eyes. "Sectric, I know what you mean, but she's the future arch-duke. My parents said that even if she turns out to be a vampire, I still have to make her fall for me!"

Sectric chuckled, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Not a bad idea. She is incredibly beautiful... I guess it's worth the risk. Hahaha!"

Lortell stood in her room, watching them from afar. The distance between them was great, much too far for an ordinary person to hear what they were saying. But Lortell was no ordinary girl. Every word they spoke reached her ears as clearly as if she were standing right beside them.

"I can hear you," she muttered softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She turned away from the window, no longer interested in the outside world.

In the grand halls of the palace, the maids whispered to each other in hushed tones, their voices filled with fear.

"It's been two years since Lady Mariette awakened as a vampire, but I still have nightmares about it," one of the maids confessed, her hands trembling slightly. "We can't even quit this job. If we do, the arch-duke will kill us. We know too much about this huge secret."

"Right," another maid agreed, her face pale with worry. "And if the secret gets out, we'll be the first ones to die. Oh dear, when will we ever be free from this misery?"

Back in her room, Lortell could hear every word they said, even though they were far away. She muttered to herself, "I can hear you too... You... You... And you... I can hear everyone in this palace."

Her voice was calm, almost indifferent, but beneath it lay a deep well of emotions—feelings that she kept hidden from everyone, locked away inside her heart. Despite the luxurious surroundings, despite her status and power, Lortell felt more isolated and distant than ever. The world around her was full of noise, yet all she could hear was the emptiness echoing within her.

Lortell Mariette walked through the grand halls of her palace, the sound of her heels echoing against the marble floors. Each step was measured, deliberate, as if she were gliding through the vast, empty spaces. But her mind was far from the beauty of her surroundings.

"Why do they fear me so much?" she mused, her thoughts circling like a predator around its prey. The servants, the guards, even the nobles—they all seemed to tremble in her presence. Yet she could not grasp the reason behind their terror.

As she continued down the corridor, her thoughts deepened. "Fear… what is it, really?" Lortell's brow furrowed in confusion. She had seen fear in others—seen it in their eyes, heard it in their voices—but she herself had never felt it. It was as foreign to her as the warmth of the sun, a concept she could understand but never truly experience.

A sudden realization struck her, stopping her in her tracks. "Now that I think about it, I've never felt any emotions in the first place," she whispered to herself, a cold, stark truth settling in. "People fear death… but I don't. I've cut my hands, beheaded myself, and yet I regenerate, time and again. Death holds no meaning for me."

She resumed her walk, her thoughts drifting to other emotions. "Anger… I've seen it in others—a boss raging at his subordinates, a person lashing out at another. But why would I feel anger at those weaker, poorer, and more pitiful than me? I've never felt pity either… because the weak should perish, and the strong should rise. That's the way of the world."

Her gaze drifted over the ornate decorations of the palace, each symbolizing wealth, power, and status. "Greed… happiness… these too elude me," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've never been greedy because I already possess everything one could desire. And happiness… why would I be happy? I was born into wealth, destined to inherit this fortune. What is there to be joyful about?"

As she walked further into the palace, her musings took on a cold, detached tone. Emotions were for others, for those who struggled, who feared, who desired. But for Lortell Mariette, emotions were nothing more than abstract concepts, like shadows she could see but never touch. 

Lortell continued her walk through the grand palace, her steps measured and silent. The further she went, the more the echoes of her heels filled the empty halls until she reached a large room where a group of maids stood chatting. The moment they caught sight of her, their faces drained of color, and they immediately bowed down, their heads lowered in submission.

"I'm going to experiment with a new spell," Lortell announced, her voice devoid of any emotion. "Tell everyone to leave the palace."

The maids exchanged terrified glances, their eyes wide with fear. Without a moment's hesitation, they scattered, their voices rising in frantic cries as they hurried to warn everyone. The maids ran through the corridors, shouting for all to evacuate. Children playing in the gardens were quickly sent home, and soon, the once-bustling palace was silent and empty.

After a few minutes, every maid and servant had gathered outside the mansion, standing in a nervous huddle as they watched Lortell, who stood at the front, her gaze fixed on the palace. This was not the first time she had done this. In fact, it had become a regular occurrence. Lortell often tested powerful essence stones and spells on her own palace, each time leaving it half-destroyed. But no one ever dared to reprimand her. Her father would simply commission a new palace, each more grand than the last.

"Essence of Blood Deity!" Lortell commanded, raising her right hand toward the palace. 

The air around her seemed to hum with energy. The Essence of blood Deity was an A-Rank essence stone, so powerful that just its aura could reduce anything within a few kilometers to a bloody mess. But Lortell, in her cold precision, only activated a tiny fraction of its power, so small that it was invisible to the naked eye.

Yet even that tiny fraction was enough to make the ground tremble. The pressure that descended on the area was immense. All the maids around her began coughing up blood, some collapsing to the ground as their bodies struggled to endure the force. Despite Lortell's efforts to suppress it, the power was too much for ordinary humans.

BAM!

A deafening sound split the air as the entire palace was obliterated by an unseen force, collapsing into a massive heap of rubble. The cries and screams of the maids echoed through the courtyard, but their reactions were muted compared to how someone might normally respond to such devastation. They had witnessed this many times before.

Lortell lowered her hand, and just as quickly as it had come, the pressure vanished, leaving nothing but the ruins of what had once been a magnificent palace. Where once there had been beauty, there was now only destruction, the palace reduced to tiny pieces of debris.

"Restore," Lortell uttered, her voice calm and unwavering.

In an instant, it was as if time itself began to rewind. The rubble and broken pieces of the palace started to lift off the ground, fitting back together like a giant puzzle. The maids watched in awe, their eyes wide with disbelief, as the palace was restored to its former glory within seconds.

"Dear goodness, what kind of godly magic is this?" one maid whispered in awe, barely able to believe what she had just witnessed.

It was a special-grade magic, Restore—a spell that could return any non-living object to the state it had been in up to a month before. And Lortell, with all her cold detachment, wielded it like a divine power. 

Lortell stared at her clenched fist, the strength in her grip enough to make her knuckles turn white. She let out a sigh, feeling the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her. "Because of being an highest ranked vampire, I can roam freely in daylight and in night I'm invincible, What's the point of having these godly powers?" she muttered to herself, her voice soft but filled with a mix of frustration and confusion. "What am I supposed to do with them? Save the world? Not interested. Become a villain? Not interested. So then, what should I do? What is the purpose of my life?"

Her thoughts spun in circles, going nowhere. She turned her gaze toward the head maid, Lorraine, who was standing nearby. Lorraine was no ordinary maid; she was a B-rank awakened person, strong enough to withstand the earlier pressure without flinching. Lortell's eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at her. "Lorraine, what is the purpose of my life?" she asked suddenly, her voice laced with a rare hint of curiosity.

The question caught Lorraine off guard. She blinked in surprise, trying to grasp what Lortell was asking. "The purpose of your life?" she repeated, clearly puzzled. "I… I don't know, my lady. Everyone has to find it by themselves."

Lortell fell silent, her thoughts once again drifting into the void. "By themselves, huh?" she murmured, almost to herself.

The day passed by slowly, the morning sun giving way to the afternoon, then to the evening, and finally, the night. But all through those hours, Lortell's mind was consumed by one thought—finding her purpose in life. She sought answers in the only place she thought might help—the palace library.

Time slipped away unnoticed, and soon it was dinner time, but Lortell didn't come out of the library. Concerned, the head maid sent someone to fetch her. The maid walked into the library, expecting to find Lortell lost in thought or perhaps reading a book. But what she saw made her gasp in shock.

There, in the middle of the library, was a massive pile of books, stacked so high they almost touched the ceiling. And on top of that pile, Lortell lay comfortably, using the books as if they were a soft bed. The sight was so strange that the maid could hardly believe her eyes.

Lortell sighed, her voice carrying a mix of exhaustion and disappointment. "I've read so many books, but I still haven't found my purpose in life…" she said quietly, more to herself than anyone else. Then, as if a switch had flipped, she suddenly sat up, her expression changing from weary to decisive. "I know why you're here. Let's go," she said, jumping down from the pile of books with surprising grace.

Without another word, Lortell followed the maid out of the library, leaving behind the mountain of books that had given her no answers. 

.... 

Lortell entered the dining hall, her steps light yet purposeful. The room, usually filled with the aroma of exquisite dishes, now held a far more unsettling sight. On the dining table, where luxurious meals should have been, a young boy was tied up and his mouth covered, struggling desperately against the ropes that bound him. He was around the same age as Lortell, his face etched with fear and desperation. This was Gotham, the same boy who had once spoken casually about winning Lortell's affection. But now, fate had placed him here, in the most unimaginable way.

The other servants had already left the room, leaving only the head maid to witness what was about to unfold. Lortell's expression was unreadable as she approached the table, her eyes devoid of any emotion as she looked down at Gotham. His struggles intensified as she leaned closer, her face inches from his neck. Then, without hesitation, she opened her mouth, revealing her sharp fang-like teeth, and bit into his neck.

Gotham's body convulsed as he fought to break free, but the ropes held firm. Lortell began to drink, her face close to his, but after only a few moments, something changed. Her expression twisted in discomfort. She pulled away abruptly, her face contorted as if she had tasted something foul.

"Urp... Urp..." Lortell gagged, turning away from the table as she vomited, expelling mouthfuls of blood and whatever else had been in her stomach. The sound of her retching filled the room, each heave a testament to her utter revulsion. When she finally stopped, she stood still for a moment, her breath shaky, before a look of relief crossed her face.

"Disgusting... So disgusting," she muttered, wiping her mouth. "He's just like everyone else. Don't bother capturing another human from tomorrow. I'm satisfied with animal blood."

With that, Lortell turned and left the room without another word, her distaste evident in every step she took. Despite the allure that human blood was supposed to hold, for her, it was nothing but repugnant. The flavor, the texture—everything about it was wrong. 

Lortell had tried human blood again and again, hoping for something different, but each time, it was the same. Disgusting. It was why she had settled on animal blood, a tasteless substitute that, though bland, at least didn't provoke the same violent reaction.

 The head maid glanced back at Gotham, still trembling and bound on the table, a chilling gaze in her eyes. 

"Hufff... I brought a kid because I heard fresh young blood tastes better, but who would have thought I'd have to kill an innocent kids now?" she sighed to herself, her voice cold and detached, before turning away for the last time. 

.... 

The dim light of the moon slowly faded away as the golden rays of morning began to fill Lortell's room. The soft glow illuminated the space, casting gentle shadows on the walls. Lortell, still nestled in her bed, finally stirred. She sat up, stretching her arms and letting out a deep yawn, her eyes heavy with sleep.

As she blinked away the last traces of drowsiness, her gaze focused on the figure standing quietly at the foot of her bed. It was the head maid, Lorraine, who had been patiently waiting for Lortell to wake up. 

The moment Lorraine noticed that Lortell was fully awake, she cleared her throat and pulled out a neatly folded letter. "Ahem, ahem..." she began, her voice steady and respectful. "This is a message from your father. He knows that you've been feeling quite bored lately, so he's arranged for you to take a little trip. He suggests you visit a place that's quiet and filled with green lands, trees, and nature. He has ordered you to go on a vacation to a territory named Swann."

Lortell listened as Lorraine read the letter aloud, her expression remaining neutral. When Lorraine finished, Lortell repeated the name softly to herself, as if testing the word on her tongue. "Swann?"