The Beginning

She waits.

This year the winter is bitter and hungry, picking off the weak and stealing the young. The survivors become pale, shriveled husks of who they used to be. During these times, humans aren’t that much different from hungry animals: possessive, angry, violent. The woman brings her child closer to her, caressing the child’s face with so much love and joy. She settles onto the edge of the bed, heaviness in her heart as their imminent separation draws closer.

“I have failed,” the woman says as she lifts a hand to touch the vial that is hanging around her neck. “But you will not.”

A quiet knock. “Madame? The carriage is ready.”

“Come in,” she replies, bundling her child with more blankets to keep her warm from the merciless cold. The doors opens and the governess enters. She is young but the woman sees the determination in her eyes. The child is passed over. “Be on your way. Quickly! I sense his arrival.”

With a nod, the governess huddles the baby closer and hurries out. Shortly after, there is a distant sound of a horse neighing and then hooves against the ground. It fades and then the woman is left in silence. She prays for a long time before removing the tiny glass bottle from around her neck. The vial is opened and the women drinks the dark red liquid inside of it. The metallic taste lingers bitterly in .

“Where is it?” A deep voice questions, startling the woman.

“Far away by now. You will never find her,” she answers quietly, her heart jumping in .

The man pauses momentarily before stepping out of the shadows and she sees very clearly the face she once loved. But now his eyes are a glowing red, mouth fixed into a scowl, and a meanness etched into the lines of his face. She does not know this man anymore. He comes to stop merely inches away from her face. “I wanted to give you the world.”

She shakes her head. “You wanted to give me a world that shouldn’t exist.”

For a brief moment, she sees hurt and desperation in his eyes as he replies, “I wanted you to be happy.”

The woman raises a hand to gently caress his face. “I was already happy. With you. I wanted to die happily with you.”

The man inhales and he picks up the foreign scent, pushing her hand away with disgust. “You even went to such great lengths to consume that blood to be immune. Do you really despise me that much?”

“What you are is unnatural,” she says before revealing a dagger.

A scoff. “You know that won’t harm me.”

“I know,” she whispers, the words tumbling out of her with great exhaustion and finality. “Goodbye, my love.”

She plunges the dagger into her heart. In the very last moments, she hears him cry out and feels his arms around her. She dreams of the world where everything went right. A world where she would grow old with the man, where they lived their lives to the fullest before dying in each other's arms. The dreams melt into darkness and deafening silence.

The winter wind drowns out the sound of mourning and the stench of death.