(Charlie and John's perspective)
"What can we do to find her?" John asked, pacing the living room, his voice heavy with worry.
"I saw her researching something on the internet the other day," Charlie said, her voice shaky but hopeful. "Maybe there’s a clue in her computer."
They walked quietly into Ashley’s room. It felt colder now—emptier. Charlie sat at the desk and turned on Ashley's PC. As it finally powered up, they began checking her recent search history.
And there it was:
• Types of Vampires
• Vampire Bloodlines
• The Blue Moon Vampire Legend
• Le Musée Du Mystère
"Le Musée Du Mystère?" John repeated under his breath.
"Isn’t that the museum that holds ancient artifacts of mythical beings?" Charlie asked.
"It is," John said. "She might’ve gone there to learn more about herself."
Charlie's face drained of color. She covered her mouth with both hands. “That woman... What if she went there too? What if she hurt our daughter?”
John stared at her, then looked down at the floor. “We have to find Ashley before she does.”
Charlie nodded, trying to keep calm. “Then we’re going to that museum.”
They arrived under the cover of darkness. The massive black doors of the museum loomed in front of them. With determination, they walked inside.
They passed through the sections: Witches… Fairies… Werewolves… until finally they found the sign that read: Vampires. But the entire section was sealed off with security tape. A sign on the door read:
"This section is closed for renovations. We apologize to all our visitors."
"Renovations?" Charlie frowned. "That doesn’t make any sense…"
“We have to find a way in,” John said, glancing around to see if the guards were watching. The museum was crowded—it wasn’t the best time to sneak around.
"I have an idea," Charlie whispered. She calmly walked toward the nearby Witch exhibit, glanced over her shoulder—and shoved one of the statues. It toppled with a loud crash. Security guards rushed over immediately to intervene.
While everyone was distracted, John slipped quietly into the vampire section.
Inside, the air felt heavier. There were streaks of dried blood on the floor and even some on the wall. His heart clenched.
Then, something caught his eye.
A portrait. Hanging on the wall.
A woman with pale skin, long brown hair, and soft features. John stepped closer, breath caught in his throat.
"Monica Paul: The Last Blue Moon Vampire (1520–1975)"
He took out his phone and snapped a picture.
“She looks… exactly like Ashley,” he muttered to himself.
The resemblance was undeniable.
He hurried out and found Charlie waiting just outside the museum.
"Charlie, look at this," he said, showing her the photo.
Charlie's eyes widened. "Oh my god… she looks just like Ashley."
"And it says Monica was the last Blue Moon Vampire," John said quietly. "Could she be Ashley’s real mother?"
"Maybe," Charlie whispered. “Did you find anything else?”
“No,” John replied, “but I did find blood. A lot of it. It looked like… like there was a fight.”
Charlie’s lips trembled. “Oh no… You don’t think Ashley might be—” She couldn’t finish the sentence.
They returned home in silence, the weight of fear pressing down on both of them.
That night, they sat in the living room, searching for any possible way to track down Ashley.
Suddenly, Charlie looked up. “Maybe the police could help us. We could give them her computer… or even a sketch of her face.”
John nodded slowly. “We can try. It’s worth a shot.”
Without wasting more time, they headed to the nearest police station—hoping that someone, somewhere, might know something about the girl with the blue eyes who vanished into the shadows.