I closed my eyes, listening for any sign of life behind my door, for I could not explain to whoever might come in, the horrors my mind whispered for me to act upon.
When I was convinced of my privacy, my trembling fingers reached for the dance.
The flame caressed my skin in a way I hadn't known before.
Pain.
Pain erupted through my twisted mind. I jerked my hand away from the fire in an instant.
I glanced at my injured skin; my eyes widened. Black—as the darkest of nights—painted my skin. I swallowed the lump that grew in my throat, trying to make sense of such abnormality.
My skin cried in unison with the storm outside, yet my mind was quiet: the dreading hole in my stomach ceased as though it was never there.
As though my lost parts had returned to me, I felt whole.
How could it be?
Fire was the way to kill a vampire for good, yet it brought me a peace I hadn’t known in weeks. The pain that it came with was nothing in comparison to the dread that walked beside me like a shadow.
The black spot on my finger hardened; the skin wailed as I pushed on the abused blotch. Would it stay there forever? I couldn’t find it in me to care if it did. It was a small punishment for what I had done.
I glanced at the flame as it kept whispering to me, daring me to try again.
I held my breath when I brought another finger to the flame. It blackened within a moment; I watched the flame dance in victory at my surrender.
My skin melted as though it was snow underneath the spring sun. Slow.
My skin burned as though it was paper. Torturous.
My heart calmed as the flames tormented my flesh.
I studied my injuries, embracing the pain that came with them.
I closed my eyes, imagining the flame taking me whole; the wicked thought brought me comfort—
A piercing pain erupted in my wrist followed by a loudmeow.My eyes flew open, landing on Silver who leaned against the walls of the bathtub with his front paws.
“Silver...” I gasped, inspecting the two small dots painting my wrist red.
A singlemeowechoed through the bathing chamber in reply.
He had never bitten me before.
No matter my childish refusal, the bath had left me feeling the Moon’s paradise.
Herlong-dried blood from underneath my nail painted the water red, disappearing into the drain.
I scratched and scraped on my flesh until nothing but the fresh smell of lavender soap was left on my skin. When not a single hair strand carried the remains of that night I reached for the linen cloth Francis had left me.
Bare, I stood before the mirror, my eyes locked on a wicked stranger in the reflection. My Mother’s features no longer bothered my soul, for the resemblance—I used to despise—was no longer there: my inherited features now had a new owner.
I stared into Kane’s colored eyes, Kane’s full lips and his sharply shaped eyebrows. Nothing in the reflection was mine besides the emerald stone, the color of Charlotte’s mother’s eyes.
My fingers felt its sharp edges, my mind trying to recall the old woman’s riddles.
Don’t let the sorrow stop you...she’d said, tying the necklace around my neck.You are our salvation,she’d declared before disappearing into the void.
The riddle left me confused like the day I’d heard it first. A chill rushed through my bones when I snatched the amulet off my neck, determined to return it to its owner.
