Yours Faithfully

Heidelburg, Germany. Present Day.

My eyes scanned over the book that laid on the large wooden desk. Some might have been distracted by the picturesque view of the river Neckar and the way the midday sun reflected off the water. I, however, was too engrossed with work if that’s what you could even call what I did that. It certainly wasn’t a common profession and one I was all but forced to be in. My curse had been being born a Finely. A family who had been among some of the oldest families in Europe and among a select few who had taken an oath to rid the world of a blight; a scourge, if you will. I still remember the day I had come of age and learned that my life had all but been planned out for me. No one wants to learn at the ripe age of eighteen that their dreams of a career in the arts were never an option and instead you would be carrying on the hunting of monsters that lurked in the shadows. As preposterous as it sounded, the looming threat of vampires had quickly taken over my young life. Soon the fear of fighting these unnatural creatures became routine and, in some cases, monotonous. Over the past seventeen years, I had killed my fair share of vampiric devils and garnered a reputation for being quite ruthless at times. Like a dog with a bone, once I had a lead, I stayed on it until the job was finished. Enter Lord Lysander Willoughby. Lord Willoughby had been an aristocrat turned vampire many centuries ago and the big fish for me. Having tracked him down in France two years ago, he and I narrowly escaped our little encounter. Up until that fateful meeting, Lord Willoughby and I had been playing this cat and mouse game. Dancing around each other in those close calls with no clear winner by the time it was all over. After getting away in France and having to take some time to recover I lost track of him. He had disappeared into the shadows once more. I had spent some time searching for clues and researching Lord Willoughby’s human days hoping the creature might be sentimental. Two years was a long time not to catch a whiff of something, but it wasn’t uncommon. Especially for the older vampires. They hide their curse better than the newly turned and sometimes, vampires died. Whether by the hand of a hunter, like me, or by some other means. The lack of news wouldn’t keep me from looking though. Lord Lysander Willoughby might be on the back burner, but he was never far from my mind.

The rap of a soft knock came from the other side of the library door. “Come in.” I said in response without looking up from my notes. With my back to the door, I could still tell who was entering without turning around. Mr. Williard had been our beloved butler for years and walked with a slight limp which made the sound of his footsteps distinctive. In my line of work, I had to stay vigilant, ever aware of my surroundings even when it came to those I trusted most. “A correspondence has just arrived for you, madam. I was told by the gentleman who delivered it that the message was urgent.” Mr. Williard’s withered old voice said as he got closer to the desk. His shaky hand placed the letter on a stack of files and nodded before shuffling his way back out of the room. I hadn’t immediately read the letter. I was in the midst of some important findings having to deal with another rash of killings in Austria. As I reached a decent stopping point, I placed my fountain pen back in its proper place and reached for the letter. The envelope had no return address or sender information. In script it simply read, “Ms. Alexandra Finely” I reached for my letter opener as I flipped the envelope over then back again trying to figure out who the letter might be from. I slid the opener across the top, sitting the opener on the desk before pulling the letter free. As I unfolded the almost parchment like paper, I noticed more of the beautiful script then my breath caught in my chest. “There’s no way.” I said out loud in utter shock. I took a full breath and exhaled slowly hoping it would calm my rapidly beating heart. The letter barely trembled in my hands as my eyes looked up from the signature at the bottom and started to read.

“Dearest Alexandra,

I hope this letter finds you well. I hear autumn in Heidelburg is truly a sight to behold, perhaps you and the fair city have that in common. I am sure as you are reading this a plethora of questions will fill your mind. Questions such as where have I been? Where is he now? Why is he writing me this letter? All those questions and any other queries you may have will all be answered in due time… hopefully. You see, Alexandra, I am writing you this letter with a request. A favor if you will. I know that I of all people have no right to ask you for help. I also understand the likelihood of you agreeing to my request is slim, but I hear it never hurts to ask. I am hoping that my request plays into a mutual want.

I have grown weary, Alexandra. I have been long for this world since the day my innocence was stolen, and the natural progression of life was ripped from me without my permission. I have tried to make the best of things, even spent the better part of a century searching for a cure. Alas, one wasn’t to be had. There is only one solution to such misery. All these years I have spent running from you, seeing you as the enemy when you are in fact my salvation. In two days’ time, I will be arriving in Heidelburg and showing up at your doorstep. Mind you this isn’t a threat, and you may turn me away if you wish though, I doubt you would turn down such an opportunity.

I want you to kill me, Alexandra. End my suffering and crushing loneliness. Help pull me from darkness and be there for me as I leave this cursed life behind. In an odd way, you are the closest thing to familiarity that I have left. I have spent so much time alone that in my last moments I would like someone to be there with me. I am asking for compassion, a fleeting moment of kindness even though I don’t deserve it. Give me one evening of conversation and the illusion of friendship before you give me the ultimate gift of death. You are my only hope, Alexandra. If not for me, do it for the man I once was so long ago.

Yours faithfully,

Lord Lysander Willoughby”

My jaw was practically on the floor as I read the last line of the letter. It was a plea, and I wasn’t sure I believed it. Through my research I had learned that when Lysander was in his late thirties, his wife had passed during childbirth to only be swiftly followed by the loss of his newborn son. Lord Willoughby slipped into despair, refusing to thrive after losing them both. Unfortunately, after that tragedy the accounts of Lysander’s life get fewer and further between, but with some piecing together it seemed like he got roped into being turned by an older vampire with a vendetta. I closed my mouth and sat back in my chair trying to process what I had read. I had been working hard on finding him and killing him, that was what I did. It was my identity. My entire life had revolved around the very thing he was asking for minus the compassion and friendliness. A number of options came to mind. I could kill him the moment he stepped in the door. I could torture him for information then kill him or… I could give him exactly what he was requesting. I laid the letter on the desk and peered out the window as I crossed my arms. As a human it was clear Lord Willoughby experienced heartache I couldn’t imagine then at his lowest was conned into this prison of darkness and blood. A shiver went down my spine at the thought of such an existence. My mind wandered into the notion of dying alone and what it meant reaching a level of hopelessness so deep that I thought my only option to escape it was death. I knew I had to keep this information to myself. If the others knew I was even considering Lord Willoughby’s request, I would never hear the end of it. Accusations of going soft and not upholding my oath would be hurled at me like a volley into an advancing army. Perhaps I had grown a bit soft as time had passed but I had never done anything remotely like he was asking. I sighed heavily, deciding I would give myself the bulk of the two days to roll the idea around in my mind. Afterall, it wasn’t the killing part that gave me pause… it was the kindness. Was I capable of pushing aside the monster Lysander was and seeing the human he had been?

The light from golden hour filled my bedroom as I stood in front of a full-length mirror and inspected my attire. I had mulled over Lord Willoughby’s letter and his request for kindness up until I had dismissed the staff and started to get ready. I had decided that I was going to give this charade a try, affording Lysander the kindness he wanted in his last moments. Not because it was the right thing to do but because if anything, it would be a change of pace. Killing these creatures was usually textbook even in the most extreme of circumstances and I allowed my curiosity to get the better of me. I had taken all the necessary precautions, including making sure I was the only one in the manor in case Lysander decided to go on some bender. I kept my clothing casual so I could freely move in the event a fight broke out. I adjusted the lightweight sweater in a deep forest green. It was one of my favorites and it brought out my shoulder length ginger curls and milky jade eyes. My wide legged black slacks hid the dagger in my boot and were comfortable which was a win/win for me. My arsenal of weapons had been strategically laid out in the parlor for easy access as well. I wasn’t sure if Lysander would choose how he died or if that little detail would be left up to me. That wasn’t something I usually had to think about given in most instances I used whatever was ever handy at the time. After fussing over a few stray curls, I made my way downstairs to make myself a cup of coffee as I didn’t see the point in setting out dinner or a tea service. Wouldn’t be much use unless I had a pint of AB negative floating around. I stared at the large cup as the coffeemaker poured out the freshly brewed liquid, the light starting to change in the kitchen as the day started to concede to night. I was a little nervous about what the conversation might bring. I had also considered that he might possibly have information about the goings on in the vampiric circles which could be beneficial, and it would be a big bonus if I didn’t have to torture him to get it. I started to add cream and sugar to my cup, staring off as I slowly stirred the spoon around in my coffee. I had concluded in the last two days that Lysander and I had a small commonality. Neither of us had chosen our lives. Just as he had been tricked, I too, felt duped in some way. Maybe that’s why I was giving this unconventional meeting a shot. I picked up my mug and meandered toward the parlor. The manor was eerily quiet and empty as I walked through the foyer and into the corridor that led to the large parlor room. I had a love hate relationship with this estate. Despite loving the old-world style, the memories that filled these halls were not happy ones. These walls and floors were steeped in loneliness and no matter what I did to try to bring about a sense of warmth, the coldness always crept back in. I flipped a switch, instantly illuminating the parlor as the early night settled in and the sunlight faded. I stepped over to the fireplace, flipping another switch to spark the gas logs. Fire burst to life as I took a sit in one of two wingback chairs that faced each other in front of the fireplace. I brought my coffee to my lips and waited for my guest to arrive.

I had just refilled my cup for the third time and was reading a book that I hadn’t given myself time to read as a light rain had started to beat against the windows. I had relaxed quite a bit; all that nervous energy had disappeared, and I chuckled at the thought that this situation had given me the rare opportunity to relax. If Lysander had changed his mind at least I had this time to spend an evening with myself, and perhaps I owed Lord Willoughby a thank you for that. I picked up my cup to sip on that newly refilled coffee just as the doorbell chimed, carrying the sound of deep-toned bells through the emptiness. I sat my mug and book down on the side table and moved to stand. Oddly at ease I moved toward the dark wooden double doors and turned the knob. As I opened the door, the man before me turned to face me. We both knew he couldn’t enter my home without an invitation, so I took a moment to etch this sight into memory. Lysander stood a full foot taller than myself, lean and skin like alabaster. Piercing blue eyes with a melancholic gaze and the dark circles under his eyes made him look like he was in the pits of despair. If you hadn’t been aware of what he was you might have felt sorry for him and wondered how someone so beautiful might be so sad. His dark navy wool coat was peppered with rain drops and his sandy blonde waves were pushed back from his face. He stared at me with a sense of relief before smiling softly. “Good evening, Alexandra.” His deep tenor voice was like a siren’s call. That charm vampires had was all part of their allure. It was what made them so deadly. As he spoke, I caught a glimpse of his fangs, brilliant white and sharp. It put me on edge, but I decided to keep my cool until I needed to act. “Good evening, Lord Willoughby.” I responded back. “Or would you prefer Lysander?” I asked cordially. He smiled and nodded. “We’re old acquaintances. Please, call me Lysander. It has been some time since I have heard my own name being spoken.” He admitted. With a nod I stepped to the side and gestured with my hand. “Very well, Lysander. Won’t you come in?” I asked, finally giving him permission to enter. Lysander gave a knowing nod back but froze before taking a step in. He was noticeably nervous, which wasn’t something I hadn’t seen before in our previous encounters. Lysander wrung his hands before finally stepping in and I closed the door behind him. “I have a fire going in the parlor. It’s the most comfortable place to sit in the house if you would like to follow me.” I stated as I stepped forward. I kept my distance and didn’t allow my back to be turned to him, choosing to walk beside him. I gestured into the open parlor door as he stepped in, slipping his coat off to reveal a white button up and black slacks. “Have a seat, Lysander.” I said as I stepped around to take my seat across from him. He tossed his coat over the back of the chair and sat down, his eyes peering under hooded lids to look at me. “I must thank you for not killing me on sight. Even though you killing me is the end goal I was hoping you would speak with me first.” Lysander leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, turning his gaze toward the crackling fire before him. “I had considered killing you on sight but… decided against it. I thought if nothing else it might be an informative exchange.” I remarked before picking up my coffee and taking a sip. He looked back at me, watching the heat rise off the liquid. As I sat the mug down it was as if he could taste the coffee in the mug. He looked at the mug with what could only be described as longing. Lysander sighed and nodded, “I truly appreciate it and you, Alexandra.” His voice was soft and laced with such sadness that I felt myself pitying him. “Why don’t you tell me why you have decided to do this?” I asked as I crossed my legs and folded my hands in my lap. I hadn’t had a plan other than asking some pertinent questions but on the fly I for some reason decided to just let him speak. Maybe listening for the time being would be the best for both of us.

Lysander kept that pensive gaze aimed at the flames as my question hung in the air. “I… “ he paused, searching for his words. “I can’t do this anymore. The torment, the anguish, the isolation, the bloodlust. It’s become too much. I am tired of being reduced to nothing more than a monster.” Lysander’s words sounded sincere as he spoke, but my guard was still up in case this was all an elaborate farce. “The memories of my former life and being so far removed from the man I was is unbearable. I have tried to make peace with it, to figure out or reconcile that for some reason this was my fate. I know now that it isn’t, and I can’t go on anymore.” Lysander continued, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I see. And you came to me because our run ins over the years have weirdly connected us?” I asked. Lysander hung his head and nodded. “That makes me sound all the more pathetic, does it not? Having no one in the world and having to run to your greatest enemy for comfort you in your last moments?” He finally looked up at me and I considered his words. “I don’t think pathetic is the word I would use. If I had to go with the first word that came to mind, I would say sad. You must admit, Lysander… considering what you are, it explains why you’re alone.” Lysander gave a single nod. “Of course. No one can remain close to a monster.” He breathed out. “And if they somehow could, I would be forced to live through the pain of watching them wither away and die of old age.” He reached up the push his hand through his hair. “It’s funny. I know what I am, but I don’t define myself as a monster. To me it’s like having a disease. Underneath the illness there is still the man I was.” It was an interesting way to phrase his existence and I had never heard it framed that way before. “I suppose I could see it that way. Not all vampires would see this as a curse. Some actively sought this out in order to never die and live out some sort of nefarious intent.” Lysander shook his head and closed his eyes. “I don’t see how or why someone would choose this.” he said with a pained sound. “I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.” His eyes opened again and looked at me. “Imagine your life being snatched from you in an instant. No one asking what you wanted or taking your wants into consideration and then never being able to escape that new reality. After my wife and boy died, I didn’t want to live. They were my world.” He said with a soft smile as he remembered them both. “My wife was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. The first time I ever saw her smile I knew I was hopelessly lost. Catherine lit up every room she walked into and was always filled with such joy. The day she accepted my proposal was the first time I indulged in kissing her and at times I can still feel that embrace. Though my current state leaves me in constant misery, nothing compares to the pain I felt when I lost her.” He closed his eyes as the amber glow made the tears rolling down his cheek glisten. I didn’t even know vampires had the ability to cry and hearing Lysander speak of his late wife with such adoration sparked envy in me. I had never been given the opportunity to find a love like that. My oath was the only thing I had been allowed to bind myself to and now I was the one feeling pathetic. “My son was so small when he was born. Even his cry was weak as I held him for the first time. After Catherine passed, I held him close, pleading with God to save my son despite not saving the love of my life. I named him Phillip after Catherine’s brother. It’s what she would have wanted. Phillip had her eyes, dark brown orbs and a head of fuzzy blonde hair. He was so beautiful.” He paused to reach up and wipe his cheek. “I buried them both in the same week.” As Lysander went silent, I gazed upon him wide eyed. I had not expected to be so affected. I wasn’t sure what was worse, having never experienced that kind of love or having it and losing it all so quickly. I found myself fighting the urge to reach out and take his hand, to comfort Lysander as he relived his heartbreak.

“Do you have someone in your life, Alexandra?” Lysander’s voice broke the silence, and I was bewildered by the question. I cleared my throat and shifted in my seat. “No.” I answered. “I can’t say that I do.” Our eyes met as I spoke and Lysander tilted his head, his eyes still glassy. “Why not? Surely you have a lot to offer someone.” I wasn’t sure how to respond to that at first. “Well, you could say I’m married to my job. Doing what I do doesn’t afford me a lot of time to devote to anyone else.” I shrugged, reaching for my coffee. Lysander shook his head. “Sounds lonely, Alexandra. Are you even happy living this way?” I found Lysander’s question irritating. I huffed as I sat my cup down. “First of all, we are here to speak about you. Not to delve into my personal life. Second, why do you care? I’m sure if you weren’t so defeated you would be taking the chance to drain me dry like you tried to do in France two years ago.” Lysander flinched as if I had hit him. “I’m sure an apology for that won’t be accepted but for what it’s worth, I am sorry for that.” He responded. “I care because I don’t want anyone to feel the way I do. I was human once, too Alexandra. I dream about what my life would have been like if I had gotten an opportunity to live it. If my wife and child had lived and I never had gotten involved with that scoundrel that turned me into this… I might have had a happy and fulfilling life that ended with me dying in my sleep from old age.” I huffed again because to some degree, Lysander had a point. “You aren’t the only one who has the ability to do some research. After our first meeting I was intrigued by you. You seemed out of place compared to the handful of hunters I had come across in my time. You were quite the celebrated artist, were you not?” I interlocked my fingers together and nodded. “At the age of seventeen you were accepted into one of the most prestigious art schools in Europe. Do you still paint?” Lysander asked and I simply shook my head no. Lysander’s expression took on a tone of disappointment. “That’s a shame. It seems like it was a big part of your life, a passion, snatch away from you just as it was beginning to flourish.” I could feel the back of my throat burn as I swallowed the rising mix of anger and grief. “It doesn’t matter now. Those days are long behind me.” I looked down to my hands, refusing to look at Lysander. “You’re still young, Alexandra. You still have the chance to live.” Lysander said that so flippantly. “And much like you, Lysander, I can’t just change who I am. Just like you are bound to kill for blood, I am bound to hunt those like you. Regardless of how unfair life may have been to both of us, there is no changing it.” I bit back. Lysander scoffed, “So I see we both have given up then.”

“Excuse me? How dare you waltz in here as if you know me. As if we are old friends confiding in one another. You don’t know shit about me, Lysander.” My voice was raised slightly as I narrowed my eyes at him. With equal defiance he stared back. “I can recognize misery and loneliness when I see it, Alexandra. You and I aren’t so different in that regard, and you know it. Look at you. A radiant woman, intelligent and strong with every opportunity at your disposal and you’re squandering it because someone had the audacity to convince you this was the only way. Just because they took an oath to do this doesn’t mean you had to. You’re wrong about not changing things. I came here to change a lot. Unfortunately, for me death by your hand is my only option, but you? You could choose life. You could leave this all behind and fight for the life you always wanted.” Silent tears were staining his cheeks as he all but pleaded with me to live. As confusing as I found the sentiment, his caring hit me like a ton of bricks. If he had sounded insincere or made jabs at my expense, I might have told him to burn in hell before cutting his head clean off his body, putting this display at an end, but that wasn’t the case. Lysander sounded genuinely concerned and his tears only conveyed that more. My own eyes welled up as I looked back down at my lap. I saw movement from the corner of my eye as Lysander reached behind him to pull an envelope out of his pocket and put it on the side table next to my coffee. “That is for you to open after I’m gone. Consider it a gift.” He wiped his cheeks again and turned back to look at the fireplace. “You and I have been intertwined for years and in a different life I might have pursued you in a different fashion. Vampire or not, I’m not blind. You are an amazing woman, Alexandra, and you deserve happiness.” Lysander moved carefully to his knees, moving to kneel in front of me. His hands reached up to take ahold of mine and I shivered at how ice cold and lifeless they felt. Lysander cried a little harder. “I had almost forgotten what that warmth felt like.” He looked up at me as I froze. “If you heed nothing else I say, please hear this. I want you to live, Alexandra. For me, for those like me that didn’t choose this life. For those like you who were never given an option. I beg of you, find your happiness and relish in it because in a flash it will be over. You will wake up one day, hopefully old and gray, and I don’t want you to regret never taking the chance.” Lysander lifted both of my hands to his lips and kissed the tops of them as he softly sobbed. Hot tears were streaming down my own face as I kept quiet. Lysander brought his forehead down to my hands as his shoulders shook and I finally gave in to the urge to comfort. I pulled my hands free and brought them up to his hair. Petting gently, he dropped his head to my lap and whined, his cries shaky and small sounding. I stared down at him, marveling in this monster’s humanity and questioning every belief I had. Lysander had somehow peered into my soul and saw my deepest desires. How I longed to find happiness and perhaps the love of another. I was rethinking every life choice I had made all the way back to the one major choice that had been made for me. Had fate brought us together to help each other? I wasn’t sure about fate, but I was sure that I had been all wrong about Lysander.

I allowed Lysander to remain with his head in my lap as he cried a lifetime’s worth of hurt. I, too, had cried my fair share of tears for each of us at how unfair life was. Between tears Lysander had spoken of happier times with his beloved Catherine and he knew that they would meet again along with his precious son when he was finally free of this life. I continued to pet his head as he spoke through sobs, feeling my own heart break for him. The grandfather clock in the corner of the parlor struck five times. Dawn was approaching and soon the parlor would be filled with early morning light. As if thinking the same thought, Lysander lifted his head to look up at me. “I’m ready, Alexandra. I don’t want to live through another day dawning.” My heart shattered as I nodded my head. I slid forward in my chair as Lysander moved back to give me room but remained on his knees. I wanted to make this as quick as possible considering every option was painful. I sank to my knees in front of him as I took ahold of a sharp wooden stake I had hidden in the cushion of my chair. Lysander softly laughed. “Always prepared. I’m not surprised, Alexandra.” I chuckled as I scooted in close enough to make the final blow. I hesitated to get my arm into the right position as I replayed the night in my mind. I had never felt so unsure of myself as I did in that moment. Lysander reached up and gently moved a curl off my forehead. “You truly are a remarkable woman, Alexandra. Never forget that and even though it wasn’t the sweetest, I am glad to have known you.” A few tears rolled down my cheek as I leaned in and planted a tender kiss on Lysander’s lips. As I pulled away Lysander eyes pooled with tears and with a swift, fluid motion, I suddenly reared back and slammed the stake into his chest, hitting his heart in one blow. The sound of wood splintering into flesh and a sudden rush of blood hit the air. His eyes shut tightly with a choked groan as I reached to help him to the floor. The metallic smell of blood tinged the air as I leaned over him, and his chest gushed the very thing he had been forced to lust after. He spit up, coughing up the red liquid as it mixed with his own tears. I sobbed as I petted his hair, giving him the kindness and compassion he had asked for. He wasn’t alone in his last moments and as the life force that kept him tethered to this plane of existence slipped away, Lysander smiled at me, choking out the words, “Thank you, Alexandra. Thank you.” With that, Lysander was gone. His suffering ended and I had hoped that just as I sobbed over his lifeless body that Lysander was embracing his wife and son on the other side.

I slumped back against the chair as Lysander’s body lay motionless in front of the fireplace. His body continued to bleed out on the antique rug beneath him. I pulled my knees up into my chest as my tears started to slow. By the peaceful expression on Lysander’s face, I knew I had provided him the comfort he needed before he died. I didn’t get the type of information some are tortured for, but I had gotten something that seemed far more important. I thought about our common thread and replayed the words Lysander had spoken about squandering priceless time on this earth. He was right and speaking from experience. He hadn’t tried to hurt me, and he seemed genuine in the time we had spent together. I sniffled as I tried to pull myself back together again. I glanced at the envelope he had placed on the side table and reached to grab it. My hands spotted in drying blood as I pulled the contents out. One seemed to be another letter, the other looked to be a last will and testament.

“Dearest Alexandra,

If you are reading this letter, it means you have given me the most selfless gift you could have bestowed, and I am finally reunited with my Catherine and Phillip. Though there is no way I can repay such a kindness, but I couldn’t leave you empty handed. Along with this letter is a copy of my will. The original is being held by an associate who once contacted, will take care of all the necessary paperwork. I have left everything to you. The Willoughby estate in England along with all the belongings in it. Among those belongings are two paintings that I think you will remember from a time over a decade ago. You truly are a talented artist, Alexandra. I enjoyed both of your pieces very much and they often brought me comfort in my cold existence. Do with the estate as you wish just so long as it brings you happiness.

I pray the rest of your days are filled with love and joy. May you never have to carry the hardships of life alone and remember what a gift life is. Catherine, Phillip, and I will be watching over the angel who so kindly ended my life to reunite us once more.

Take care of yourself, Alexandra, and live. Live for us all.

Yours faithfully.

Lord Lysander Willoughby”

I dropped the letter onto my lap, blinking away tears. In taking away Lysander’s life he gave me the chance at a new one.