Chapter Text
It was a dark night, as always. Mary loved the night; she loved walking around her city and being with her own thoughts. In the city, the fairy lights put on the trees looked like stars. They would change the lights for every season, and since winter's lights were snowflakes, she would stare at the lights for how much every single one looked different, and how beautiful. It was the kind of sun she missed. On the last day of February, Mary would wake up to see if they would change the lights in time for spring and add the stars that were no longer seen in the sky due to the lights around the city. They would, and that was a fun distraction for her.
Mary always had to strategize her kills due to cameras being everywhere, and she needed to kill the people everyone would be fine with her killing — like homeless druggies, killers, and the most evil of the evil.
Mary walked around her town in her white dress. She always loved wearing white; it made her look elegant and beautiful, might even youthful. It made her brown hair stand out, as it waved and bounced while her black heels clattered through the city. It was nighttime, her favorite time. It made the city more beautiful, people louder and fun.
Mary stood near a store to observe the people walking by. She did this every single day, waiting for the perfect victim. As she looked, she found a beautiful young girl; her long brown hair and tanned skin stood out in the crowd, as everyone else was used to the nighttime and preferred to sleep during the day, making them look as pale as a ghost. But she felt something hot pouring out, and as she observed, she saw a man, alone and sad. She couldn't resist her thirst and found the man amusing, happy to get him out of his misery by eating him, but—
As days went by, she kept observing the young girl, finding out what days she was outside during the night and where she was going. She couldn't understand if she desired the girl or just wanted to eat her. She saw the girl from far away, all alone for the first time, and as slowly as she could, she walked up to her.
"Excuse me!" Mary said, stopping the young girl in her tracks. "I was wondering if you're new in this town? I'm just used to seeing the same people here every night."
The young girl stood awkwardly. "Me and my family moved here two weeks ago."
Mary was admiring the young girl's beauty; she had shimmering green eyes, and her long dark brown hair went past her shoulders.
"Are you good?" asked the girl, feeling more awkward due to the silence.
"Yes," Mary answered.
"Come, I wanna show you a place."
Mary gave out her hand, indicating for the young girl to give her hand. Mary felt the girl's hand was bigger than hers, not by much, but she kept thinking about that the entire walk. She led the girl to a park, which had lights everywhere. People were dancing and singing. She took her to a public concert that had already started without them. The singer was a woman. The singer felt the need to call people up to sing what they wanted. She saw Mary and the girl and asked them to come up. When they got up there, the woman asked for their names. Mary grabbed the microphone.
"I am Mary, and this is my side chick..." She stopped, looking at the girl and quietly asking for her name.
"Rosalyn," she whispered to Mary.
"Rosalyn!" Mary yelled into the microphone.
The night went as Mary expected. When walking with Rosalyn, who looked exhausted, almost falling with each step, she suggested that Mary walk her home.
Mary looked at the girl, her eyes shutting and opening from time to time.
"Why don't you come over to my house? I live quite near here."
Rosalyn gave a weak smile and laughed. "No, no, I mustn't. My parents will be worried sick if I don't come home tonight."
"It's okay, love. I'll bring you home."
The sun rose as Mary brought Rosalyn home and then went back to her own house, where she lived alone in comfort. Mary found a new thing to look forward to through her years of living as an immortal, left to rot by her maker.
She got into her coffin, sleeping soundly until the day passed, waking the vampire up for a new night to hunt.
Mary finally found something new, something beautiful. She finally had a reason to look at life, and that was due to Rosalyn, who was so gentle and sweet, leaving Mary disgusted with her acts as an immortal, hurting humans every single day, even if she needed human blood to fill her and bring her peace. She saw something different in Rosalyn, something she never thought she would have after being abandoned and hurt through the years. The feeling she had with Rosalyn was unexplainable, but it didn't need an explanation. She was what Mary needed all along.
Mary loved Rosalyn.
It was a dark night; the sky was at its most beautiful. It looked like a painting. Mary loved looking at the sky; it made her feel like a painting herself.
She was writing things down until someone sat next to her. She quickly looked and saw it was Rosalyn. She looked out of breath, as if she had walked fast to get there.
"What are you writing there?" Rosalyn asked.
"Oh, nothing," she said, shutting her book quickly.
"Have you heard about the sudden disappearance of people in this town?" Rosalyn asked as they both sat on a park bench filled with flowers. Even if Mary didn't like flowers due to their strong smell, she would forget once she was with Rosalyn.
Mary looked at Rosalyn, shocked but not surprised. She guessed it was due to her, but didn't want Rosalyn to suspect it.
"No? I don't watch the news, sorry."
Mary bit her lip.
"Oh, I just saw my mom watching. I asked, and she explained what was said on the news. Well, it's happening in this city, and whoever is killing is only killing men."
"Maybe it's a woman," Mary joked, even though she was responsible, and she was a woman.
"Didn't think of that. I guess we are safe from the killer," Rosalyn showed a bit of discomfort and tried to play it off by smiling.
"You wanna go to a café? It could take your mind off this man-hating killer," Mary said, understanding that at this moment, her actions were hurting the people she didn't want to. It was her fault that Rosalyn was scared.
Rosalyn smiled wider and shook her head, agreeing.
After they got to the café, sat down, and got their food, Rosalyn felt calmer due to the sweetness in the air, the smell of the bread, and the kind workers.
"You wanna have dinner with my family tomorrow?" Rosalyn had wanted to ask that the whole night and finally did.
Mary thought for a second, wondering if she should, and if she did, what would she do?
"What time? And I can't during the day, I'm a night owl."
"A night owl? Like from Harry Potter?"
Rosalyn smirked, leaving Mary confused for a second.
"What does that have to do with Harry Potter?"
"Anyway, it can be during the night, but before 1 a.m."
Mary looked at her coffee and remembered that she didn't like food; it tasted like rubber.
"I just remembered, I can't, I'm sorry."
Rosalyn looked confused.
"What? Why?"
"I've got work during the day," Mary awkwardly smiled.
"You don't work."
"And who told you that? I work a very serious—"
"You did," Rosalyn cut Mary off with a serious face. She looked a bit upset.
"You can just say you don't wanna go. It's okay. Sometimes I reject going to my friends' family dinners."
"Alright, I don't wanna go, I'm sorry."
Mary looked at her coffee, ashamed that she got caught in her lie.
"Okay," Rosalyn responded, a bit annoyed but trying to change the conversation into something else, a topic that wouldn't turn out like this one.
As the night went by and Rosalyn went home, leaving Mary alone on the street, she found her need and lust for human blood growing stronger. She held her hunger back when being with Rosalyn, but it was a gift in the end because the victims always tasted better.
She was walking around the town, observing the people. They were always the same — those who worked late at their jobs, teenagers who snuck out, and homeless people.
She then saw a woman walking. She looked as if she was in her early 20s. She was beautiful and looked like she had been at a concert or a party. She looked messed up, but in a drunk way. She was walking in heels, making her as tall as an average guy. Mary was staring at her until something caught her eye — a man in a black hoodie following the woman. Mary started following the man as quickly as she could. When they got to a corner that didn’t have cameras and looked almost abandoned, she jumped on the man, biting his neck quietly and digging her nails into his hands as he tried to push her off. She drank all the blood before jumping off and cleaning herself with anything she could find.
Rosalyn felt like heaven to Mary — an eye-opening piece of art that could be loved throughout the decades. She loved waking up at night and looked forward to seeing Rosalyn.
As she walked around her town, she saw Rosalyn on the bench in the park, looking at a piece of paper. She went up to her.
"Hey!" Mary said, accidentally scaring Rosalyn.
"What's up?"
Mary sat down next to her.
"Nothing much, just walking around. What have you got in your hands?"
"I don't know. This weirdo wrote me a letter — like a love letter, I think. Maybe it's not a love letter, I don't know, but it's still weird." Rosalyn handed the paper to Mary to read. She read it silently in her head, and when she finished, she looked at Rosalyn.
"Who would write this?"
"I don't know. That's the problem!"
For days, Rosalyn would get many poems, so many love letters — well, they weren't really love letters, but the closest thing to explain them would be that they were love letters. It was always by a secret admirer.
It became like a news update for Mary every single day because a new one would appear, one after another, never-ending.
Rosalyn couldn't tell if she was supposed to be scared for her safety or flattered that someone would write these. It was almost all they talked about.