MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

Chapter 142: Cemetery

As Blake followed Nana along the winding trail, he couldn't shake off the feeling of anticipation mixed with unease. The silence between them was heavy, filled with unspoken tension and unanswered questions. He stole glances at Nana, trying to decipher the emotions flickering across her face, but her expression remained unreadable.

After a while, unable to bear the silence any longer, Blake decided to break the ice. "So, uh, Nana... How long have you lived here in the forest?" he asked, hoping to start a conversation.

Nana glanced at him briefly before returning her gaze to the path ahead. "I've lived here all my life," she replied curtly, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "My ancestors have inhabited this land for generations."

Blake nodded, taking in her words. He couldn't imagine what it must be like to live in isolation, surrounded by nothing but trees and wildlife. "Must be quite peaceful out here," he remarked, attempting to lighten the mood.

Nana scoffed softly, a bitter edge to her tone. "Peaceful, yes, but also fraught with challenges and hardships," she replied cryptically, her eyes fixed on the path as they continued walking.

Sensing that Nana wasn't keen on small talk, Blake lapsed into silence once again, allowing his thoughts to wander. He couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched, as if unseen eyes were observing their every move from the shadows of the forest.

As they trudged along, the trail grew narrower and steeper, the dense foliage closing in around them like a suffocating embrace. Blake couldn't help but feel a twinge of anxiety creeping into his chest. What if Nana was leading him into a trap? What if she had ulterior motives for bringing him out here?

Pushing aside his doubts, Blake focused on putting one foot in front of the other, determined to see this through to the end. Whatever Nana had in store for him, he needed to know the truth, no matter how unsettling it might be.

Finally, after what felt like hours of walking, they emerged into a small clearing bathed in dappled sunlight.

As they emerged from the dense thicket, the sight that greeted them was nothing short of haunting.

Stretching out before them was a vast expanse of land, dotted with hundreds of weather-worn gravestones. The cemetery seemed to go on for miles, disappearing into the horizon in a somber display of loss and remembrance.

Blake's breath caught in his throat as he took in the enormity of the scene before him. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on his mind, sending a shiver down his spine. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the sea of headstones.

"Why... why are we here?" he finally managed to stammer, his voice trembling with apprehension. He turned to look at Nana, confusion and fear etched on his features.

Worst case scenarios began to run in his head.He knew it, this was a trap just as he had suspected. Elena was perhaps right about not going into the forest again.

Nana's expression was somber as she approached him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You wanted to know what it's been like, yes?" she replied softly, her voice tinged with sadness.

"Yes, but... I didn't expect..." Blake's voice trailed off as he struggled to find the right words to express the turmoil churning within him.

"There's no easy way to see this, Blake," Nana said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But you need to understand. You need to see the truth."

As they walked among the rows of graves, Nana began to explain the history of the cemetery. She spoke of a time when it had been a place of reverence and solemnity, a sanctuary for honoring the memories of the departed.

Nana's voice quivered as she began to speak, her words heavy with sorrow and regret. "What you see here, Blake, it wasn't always like this," she said, gesturing towards the rows of weathered gravestones. "In our childhood, this place was sacred. A place where we came to honor our ancestors, to pay homage to those who came before us."

She paused, her gaze lingering on the silent sentinels of stone that surrounded them. "But everything changed when the mistress returned," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "With her came darkness, and with darkness came death."

Blake felt a chill run down his spine as Nana recounted the transformation of the once-hallowed cemetery into a place of sorrow and despair. "Every time she returned to the island, more bodies were brought here," Nana explained, her voice trembling with emotion. "Fathers, mothers, children... their names etched into these stones as a grim reminder of the price we've paid."

She reached out to touch one of the weathered gravestones, her fingers tracing the worn letters of a name long forgotten. "The occupants of each grave span generations, Blake," she said, her voice thick with sadness. "From our ancestors to our present generation, each one a victim of the mistress's tyranny."

Tears welled in Nana's eyes as she spoke, her voice choked with emotion. "I fear the day when there are no more graves left to dig," she whispered, her words hanging heavy in the air. "For it will mean that we are all gone, forgotten in the annals of time."

Blake listened in stunned silence as Nana recounted the tragic fate that had befallen the village and its inhabitants. His heart ached at the thought of the lives that had been lost, the families torn apart by grief and sorrow.

"This is... this is too much," Blake murmured, his voice barely audible above the whispering breeze. "How could this happen? How could Elena let this happen?"

Blake's mind raced as he listened to Nana's words, searching for any flaw in her narrative because as much as he wanted to believe her, it was hard to imagine Elena would be capable of such things. He ran through what she had told him and then it struck him – the timeline didn't add up.

"But wait," he interjected, furrowing his brow in confusion. "You speak of generations of your people laid to rest here. How could Elena be responsible for the deaths of generations, when she seems to be only in her early thirties at most?"

Nana's expression softened, her eyes reflecting a mixture of sadness and understanding. "Your mistress is... complicated," she replied, her voice tinged with emotion. "But she's not the only one to blame. We all bear some responsibility for what has transpired here."