Scarlet Rebel

Freya’s life was one of quiet misery, a bleak existence defined by servitude, fear, and isolation. Born into the city's poorer quarters, she was forced into service at a young age, her family too impoverished to support her. She found herself in the employ of a wealthy, reclusive man known only as Lord Beaumont, whose cold, aristocratic demeanor masked a far more sinister secret—he was a vampire.

At a time when vampires were hunted and feared, those few who still existed above ground lived in the shadows, hiding their true nature from the public eye. Lord Beaumont was no different, maintaining his facade of nobility while feeding on the blood of the desperate and downtrodden, all the while ensuring that no one spoke a word of his dark appetites. For Freya, working for him was both a curse and a twisted stroke of fate.

She quickly realized the truth of his nature. His cold, unblinking eyes, his eerie ability to move through the halls without a sound, and the strange disappearances of other servants made it clear what he truly was. But Freya, clever and resourceful, kept her head down, knowing that defiance would lead to her death—or worse. She lived in constant fear, but it was a fear laced with growing resentment.

Lord Beaumont’s house was a place of cruelty. Freya, like the other servants, was treated as little more than livestock—used, abused, and discarded at will. She bore the scars of her servitude, both physical and emotional. While her work began as simple domestic tasks—cleaning, cooking, and running errands—it soon became something far darker. She would often be forced to lure the poor and forgotten into Beaumont’s mansion, where they would vanish, never to be seen again. The weight of these disappearances grew heavy on her conscience, but survival meant complicity.

Freya was never far from the cold grip of hunger herself. The wages she earned barely kept her alive, and she was constantly reminded of her lowly status, both in Beaumont’s household and in the wider world of London, where poverty and class divisions defined every aspect of life. The streets were grimy and filled with the stench of desperation, but Freya longed for something more. She dreamed of escaping, but knew she was trapped—caught between the mortal world that had nothing for her and the vampire lord who saw her as nothing but a tool.

One night, however, things changed.

Beaumont, who had long since grown bored with her as a mere servant, saw something different in Freya—a potential far greater than he had previously imagined. Her resilience, her defiance simmering just beneath the surface, intrigued him. In a moment of twisted generosity, or perhaps boredom, he decided to offer her a "gift." He turned her, sinking his fangs into her and transforming her into one of his kind, a fledgling vampire.

But it wasn’t out of kindness or mentorship. Beaumont had no intention of guiding her through her new existence. She was not meant to thrive. She was discarded, just as easily as she had been turned. He cast her down into Netherwell, the vast underworld where cave-dwellers were thrown, their fates left to the chaos below.

Freya’s human life ended in blood and betrayal, leaving behind a girl who had spent her mortal years as a tool for others’ survival, only to be abandoned in her darkest moment. Her transformation into a vampire marked the beginning of her rebellion against the chains that had bound her, but the scars of her past would shape the fire and fury that would burn within her as a fledgling in Netherwell.