-Book One-
Edited 9/26/24
Prologue:
-Spring, 2015 CE-
Sleep has never been easy to find; even less so in recent years.
When I do sleep, I find neither rest nor peace. Instead, I’m haunted by my past. I’m forced to relive a memory each night; infinite memories at my disposal, and yet I see the same moments over and over. I smell the same tantalizing scent of blood, see the same round blue-gray eyes widened in pain and shock, feel the cool leather grip on the hilt and the blood as it drenches my hands, splatters on my face. I’ve accepted my punishment over the years, but the beast within me yearns to break free and seek vengeance over its perceived cause of my sentence. My curse, which lay quiet for so long, longs to take over and fight back. And one night, fight back it does.
I managed to find my way out of another memory loop, escaping the vision exhausted and barely retaining control. The creature raged and railed against the bars, a carefully constructed cage containing my inner darkness, nestled within my mindscape. It was all I saw when I closed my eyes. When I opened them, I found myself in a dark forest, the plant life around me dead and hollow. It reminded me of myself. The world around me was built of glass, some areas jagged and sharp, others smooth and pristine. Aside from myself, there seemed to be no one there. I began to walk, my feet crunching on glass, causing frequent flashes of pain that faded to a slow burn as my body began to heal its injuries. All too familiar with what was happening, I patiently reminded myself that though this was a dream, it was, in fact, very real. The crunching noises seeped into echoes, then silence, as the world around me solidified and the splintering of my temporary reality stopped. As long as I was asleep, as long as the door remained hidden, this was the only reality I would know. I walked for what felt like hours, alone with my thoughts and my monster, his commentary never ceasing. He found it necessary to fill the silence, a trait we both shared; he loved to hear himself talk and I couldn’t stop myself from thinking. When one lived forever, there was no shortage of silence to be filled.
I halted when a strange smell captured my attention, alerting me to the fact that I wasn’t as alone as I had thought. I crept through brambles and dead brush, as silent as possible, the instincts of the hunter I truly am taking over. Peering through a break in the decrepit leaves and branches, I caught sight of the source of the aroma. A human girl, a rather small one at that, stood in a clearing. Her long hair shifted around her body in the faint breeze. What little of her skin I could see was as pale as my own, her hair a mixture of fire and chocolate. Her scent was sweet, yet something lingered, something interesting and dark, contradicting her appearance. She seemed so angelic, clad in a white nightgown and tall blue socks. Her scent was intoxicating, almost creating a buzz simply from inhaling the smell from several feet away. The smell of her blood entranced me, called to me, beckoning to my curse and awakening my monster, tempting us both. The angelic mortal had no idea she had just become prey. I felt my eyes heat, the color shifting to a glowing red. My monster broke free of its bonds, shoving me to the back of my consciousness, imprisoning me in the cage where my curse belonged. The monster took the reins, and the hunt began.
The scent was even stronger now, if that were possible, and my vision became coated in a tint of blood red. Her heart was thumping, roaring, in my ears, and even from twenty feet away, I could feel the heat of her blood. I could almost taste it on my tongue. The monster was patient, more so than usual, as if it wanted to savor its time in control. Perhaps it simply wanted to take time playing with its meal. Why not both, a dark voice, nearly identical to my own, hissed in my head. After all, you so rarely set me free these days. I ignored him, focusing on the small human while my curse stalked her. My kind were very much like cats, especially when our true nature sank in; we enjoyed toying with our food. The monster took a step, deliberately breaking a twig, sending a loud snap echoing through the clearing. Her body tensed, but by the time she turned her head to look for the source of the loud sound, the monster had danced away. It hid in a different patch of brush ten feet away, watching her look around. It circled her, causing noises in different areas surrounding the clearing. The girl whipped her head and body around, over and over, her heart pumping harder and blood flowing faster with every snap and crack that rang out into the night. The curse continued its game, seeking her fear. Though her heart’s rhythm sped, her eyes widening and tiny hands clenching into fists, though her body shook and her breathing grew faster and shallower, the scent of fear never tainted her own. Her blood sang a welcoming, seductive song to the monster, to me. And finally, unable to wait any longer, the curse leapt for her, capturing her small, frail form in an inescapable grip. She didn’t even scream. The monster growled softly, almost in disappointment, then snarled, “Caught you,” in her ear, its heated breath blowing against her skin. While the monster was distracted with the thrill of the hunt, the excitement of capturing its prey, I was busy marveling at the lack of fear in this little human. The monster wasted no more time, plunging its fangs into her throat. Two twin canines, longer than the rest of our teeth, carefully pricked her carotid artery, causing blood to spurt into our mouth. Her heart stuttered and began to speed again, her breathing instantly became heavier, but her inebriating, glorious scent never changed. A rich, delicious taste flooded across my tongue, just a touch sweeter than her scent, igniting memories and instincts. The monster drank deeply, while I remained partially distracted by the thought, the knowledge, that I had tasted this blood before. I could never forget this flavor, this feeling. I regained my composure, tearing back control from my curse, accidentally biting down harder in the process. The little human gasped, leaning her head further, her small hands grasping at me. It took everything I had to rip myself away from her, dropping her body and stepping away quickly. I dropped to my knees, hung my head, struggled to curb the desire to drain her and leave nothing but an empty shell. I’ve never been a killer, not intentionally, and I refused to let that change. I opened my eyes, the red haze lifted, and took deep breaths, looking back to the girl. She pushed herself up to her elbows, clearly with difficulty. Her arm wavered beneath her weight, then collapsed. It seemed she was too weak to do anything but lay there, bleeding out. I stared, my mind racing. Close the wound, give her blood, save her. I couldn’t. The monster was too strong, too bloodthirsty, too angry at me for interrupting its fun and imprisoning it yet again. And I…I was too weak. I climbed to my feet, surprised to find myself unsteady, and started to stumble away.
“Wait,” a faint voice whispered. I froze, glancing over my shoulder at her. My dark hair, long and unkempt, shifted to cover my face, concealing my identity. Though this was a dream, and she would likely awake unharmed, I took no chances. She would likely remember nothing but a strange nightmare of a monster that sought her blood; I had no intentions of letting her see the monster who had tried to kill her, dream or not. Need to get away, need to run, far away, away from her! “Aren’t you going to finish it?” Her voice was soft, raspy, cracking and breaking as she forced the words out. My fangs sharpened at the mere thought of tasting her blood again, my monster rattling the bars of its cage and threatening to break free, to finish what it started. Give her to me, it hissed. Just one more taste, one more mouthful—No. It wouldn’t be just one. It never was with my curse.
“Finish what,” I asked, voice hollow, feigning ignorance.
She hesitated, as if she were trying to regain control of her mouth and voice before she stuttered again. “Aren’t you going to kill me?”
Kill her. My instincts wanted to. My monster would have loved to. But I am no murderer, not now, not then, never on purpose. “Do you want me to,” I asked instead.
She tried, and failed, to get up again. Without thinking, before I could stop myself, I found myself behind her, her head falling into my lap. She looked up at me with hazel eyes I hadn’t seen in two hundred years, and any concerns about revealing my identity disappeared. Everything disappeared. For several moments, moments that lasted forever and yet didn’t last long enough, there was nothing but those eyes. Her eyes. I shook myself, shaking off memories that threatened to reclaim me, and repeated my question. She laughed bitterly, her face even paler than it had been. I’d taken too much from her; she was anemic, she always had been. Losing blood was never good for her. I brushed her hair back from her face tenderly, feeling the softness of her skin again. Her body was so weak, so fragile, so delicate, so easily broken; but not her mind, not her heart. She was strong, much stronger than anyone I had ever come across. “Yes,” she finally whispered, voice breaking again.
I had to resist my desire to taste her again, to fulfill both of our wishes, as I leaned closer to her, asking, “How old are you?”
“S-seventeen,” she mumbled, her body shaking harder.
“Your name,” I asked. Her eyelids fluttered.
“Kathryn.”
Seventeen. We weren’t supposed to meet for another year. I brushed her hair back gently, trying to burn the feeling of her skin and hair into my brain, trying to force myself to remember seeing her for the first time, again, exactly as it happened. There was little point; I knew I’d never forget this moment, just as I never forgot anything. Summoning the last of my willpower, I met her gaze with my own. The hope in her eyes broke my heart, splintered a little piece of what humanity I had left.
Exerting my will over hers was easy; I watched as her pupils dilated in time with mine and whispered, “You won’t remember me. You won’t remember this dream, or what I did to you. Wake up, Kathy. Wake up, and forget me again.”
