“Are you
alright?” Matthaya asked, his expression as concerned as always. His
fingers brushed against my hand.
I nodded and smiled. “Yes, I’m fine. I was
better before he came in, but that’s business. Things don’t bother me
the way they used to.”
“I know.” He walked over to the front door,
locked the deadbolt, and then switched off our sign and all the lights in the
lobby.
“I’m worried about you,” he added. “You aren’t
yourself tonight.”
“It’s nothing.” I pulled the drawer from the
cash register and carried it into the back room.
This was my shop now. We had purchased it a
while back after the owner had died.
I had been there, too… when he’d died, I mean.
I had been there, watching it happen.
That’s a part of my past I will never forget.
That and…
“It was the dream again, wasn’t it?” Matthaya
walked closely beside me, his gait in sync with mine.
Yes, it was the dream, but I feared
telling him the truth. It wasn’t the first time I had dreamt it, after all.
“It doesn’t make any sense.” His voice became
gruff, and his fingers formed a fist. “There’s no reason for it to haunt you
still.”
Ghastly visions terrorized me as I slept and I
could not bear the anguish and guilt each unwelcome visit brought. They had
occurred for several days in a row and seemed all too abrupt to be a side
effect of anything in particular.
Matthaya took the cash drawer from my hands and
set it on the table behind us.
Money meant nothing.
“Sit down.” He implored me to rest in a softly
padded chair to which he had turned my attention. My head was weary with the
endless horrors I endured each night, and he found little comfort in his
inability to stop the nightmares. The depression of helplessness slowly crept
into his veins and I could feel his sadness growing.
He didn’t deserve this. My
love for Matthaya was great—so great, in fact, that I had given up my
life to be with him. The least I could do was be honest.
It was dark in the back room. Matthaya struck a
match and lit a stout ivory candle for the sheer novelty of it. Gazing upon the
warm flames tamed the beast in me.
He set it down in front of me on the table and a
soft yellow glow filled the room, bouncing
from wall to wall, playing tricks with our shadows.
My sensitive ears twitched from the clink of two
wine glasses as he set them on the table and tipped a bottle over them, filling them with rich crimson liquid. The
smell teased my senses with intrigue
and delight, like a crisp spring breeze. I took a deep breath and filled
my lungs with the aura of its purity and youth.
He took a seat beside me.
“Where did you get this?” I asked, swirling the
precious drink around in my glass. Such an indulgence was uncommon for us.
His expression
turned dark and defensive. “What difference does that make?” he replied
firmly, implying that the source was no longer a concern.
I shrugged and relinquished my query.
My lips pressed against the
rim of the glass and I poured the drink slowly into my mouth and swallowed. It
left my lips painted with scarlet tint, which reflected back at me in the sheen
of the glass. Matthaya mirrored my actions, and we shared a much-needed moment
of peace in the darkness.
I still remember when a cup of hot milk could
settle my tumultuous pangs, but those days are long gone. I set down my glass
and ran the edge of my tongue across my lips, savoring the last trace of infant
blood.
Many months had passed since we had tasted
humans. We sought to keep it that way indefinitely, but the violent churning of
nightmares left me susceptible and weak to its sensual charms. Matthaya knew
our eternal hunger well, and he knew that a weakened state left me vulnerable
to my lust for young blood.
Modern formalities aside, you could call
Matthaya my husband. He rescued me from the mortality that plagues you now.
Together we share our lives in the darkness. Together we face our fears… our
limitations.
It was a choice that I made not long ago. A
choice we were forced to make to
preserve our feelings for one another. In exchange, we now face the
monstrous truth that surrounds the myth that is “forever.”
There is no morning, no dawn, and no dusk.
Spring and summer mean nothing to us. There is only the bitterness of winter
and the darkness of night.
And while the virile emotions of surrounding
mortals infiltrate my mind, the fiery kiss
of passionate love has grown cold to my anesthetized skin.
Matthaya and
I share our strengths and our weaknesses. This is our world now and, together, we are damned to spend eternity trapped in the icy shadow of the moon’s
ghostly light.
My name is Kathera.
I was just like you once.
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