“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.
No comments:
Post a Comment