MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

The next morning dawned bright and clear. Blake woke early, careful not to disturb Rose as he slipped out of bed. He padded quietly to the kitchen, intent on surprising his family with breakfast.

As he cracked eggs into a bowl, Blake couldn't shake a nagging feeling of unease. Everything seemed perfect - too perfect, perhaps. He shook his head, trying to dispel the thought. They had been through so much; surely they deserved this peace.

The sound of small feet pattering down the hallway brought a smile to his face. Celena burst into the kitchen, her dark curls wild from sleep.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed, throwing herself into his arms.

Blake scooped her up, planting a kiss on her forehead. "Good morning, sunshine. Want to help me make pancakes?"

Celena nodded eagerly, and soon they were working side by side, the kitchen filled with the warm scent of cooking and the sound of their laughter.

Rose joined them a short while later, drawn by the enticing aromas. "Something smells wonderful," she said, wrapping her arms around Blake from behind.

Blake turned, pulling her into a proper embrace. "Good morning, beautiful," he murmured, kissing her softly.

As they sat down to eat, Blake couldn't help but marvel at the scene before him. His wife, radiant and alive, their daughter chattering excitedly about her plans for the day. It was everything he had ever wanted.

After breakfast, Rose announced her intention to work in the garden. "The roses need pruning," she explained, a twinkle in her eye as she referenced her namesake.

Blake nodded, remembering the extensive rose garden Rose had planted shortly after they moved in. It had always been her pride and joy. "Need any help?" he offered.

Rose shook her head. "No, I've got it. Why don't you and Celena go for a walk? It's a beautiful day."

Blake agreed, and soon he and Celena were strolling hand in hand through the nearby woods. The forest was alive with birdsong and the rustling of small creatures in the underbrush.

"Daddy," Celena said suddenly, her voice serious. "Is Mommy really okay?"

Blake stopped, kneeling down to look his daughter in the eye. "What do you mean, sweetheart?"

Celena bit her lip, a habit she'd probably inherited from Rose. "Sometimes... sometimes she looks different. Her eyes get all dark, and she talks funny. It scares me."

A chill ran down Blake's spine. He had noticed some odd moments with Rose, but had attributed them to the trauma she'd been through. Hearing Celena confirm his suspicions made his heart race.

"When did you see this happen?" he asked, keeping his voice calm for Celena's sake.

"Two nights back," Celena whispered. "I got up to get a cup of water, and I heard voices in your room. Mommy was talking, but it didn't sound like her. And when she turned to the door, her eyes were all black."

Blake pulled Celena into a tight hug, his mind racing. What could this mean? Was Rose still battling some remnant of the Nemisis? He had thought that nightmare was over.

"It's okay, sweetheart," he soothed, stroking Celena's hair. "Mommy's been through a lot, and sometimes it might make her act a little strange. But I promise you, we're all safe. I won't let anything happen to you or Mommy."

Celena nodded against his chest, but Blake could feel her small body trembling. He made a mental note to keep a closer eye on Rose, to look for any signs of... what? Possession? The thought was almost too terrible to contemplate.

They continued their walk, Blake making an effort to keep the conversation light and distract Celena from her worries. By the time they returned home, she was laughing again, her earlier fear seemingly forgotten.

As they approached the house, Blake noticed something odd. The front door was wide open, swinging gently in the breeze. A spike of alarm shot through him.

"Celena, wait here," he said firmly, positioning her behind a large oak tree. "Don't move until I come back, okay?"

Celena nodded, her eyes wide with fear. Blake approached the house cautiously, every sense on high alert. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the creak of the door.

"Rose?" he called out as he entered. No response.

The living room was a mess, furniture overturned, picture frames shattered on the floor. Blake's heart pounded in his chest as he made his way to the back of the house.

He found Rose in the garden, kneeling among her beloved roses. Relief flooded through him, until he got closer and saw the state she was in.

Her clothes were all dirty, her hands bloody from gripping the thorny stems too tightly. She was muttering to herself, words Blake couldn't quite make out.

"Rose?" he said softly, not wanting to startle her. "Honey, are you okay?"

Rose's head snapped up, and Blake stumbled back in shock. Her eyes were completely black, no white or iris visible. When she spoke, her voice was distorted, as if multiple people were talking at once.

"Blake," she hissed, her face contorting into a grotesque smile. "So nice of you to join us."

Blake's mind reeled. This wasn't Rose - at least, not entirely. The Nemisis, or some part of it, still had a hold on her.

"Who are you?" he demanded, trying to keep his voice steady. "What have you done with my wife?"

The thing wearing Rose's face laughed, a chilling sound that echoed unnaturally in the quiet garden. "Your wife is here, Blake. She's screaming, actually. Telling me to let her go, to spare you and the child. It's quite touching, really."

Blake's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Let her go," he growled. "We defeated you once, we can do it again."

Rose stood, moving with an unnatural grace that was nothing like Rose's usual movements. "Oh, but you see, that's where you're wrong. You never truly defeated me. I've been here all along, waiting, growing stronger. And now, I'm ready to take what's mine. A promise is a promise.

You never break an oath. There are consequences. I am the consequence. I am Nemisis!!"

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