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“I love you for who you are, not who the world wants you to be.” It kept echoing in her head as the darkness enveloped her, as he enveloped her and the sharp pinch in her neck grew hot. The two pin-pricks ached through her very being, tugging through her soul, through her body, through her very being.
‘Don’t think’, she told herself. It wasn’t giving in. It couldn't be. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it? She wasn’t sure anymore. She was just so tired. It was a bone deep ache, one that throbbed through her body never giving her a moment's rest.
It was dark, and there was a comfort in that. Safety. He was talking, murmuring against her cheek, and lifted her up, cradling her close. It was cold. Cold as the grave, but there was no silence. He kept talking, as he carried her down into the depths, below the museum, into the shadowy depths.
There were others, crowding around them, but they gave way, a sea of too pale faces. She knew these children. Had seen them on the streets. Seen them in passing glances. They were familiar now. She could feel them.
“Back, children. She is tired, and weak.”
She turned her face into his neck. ‘I love you for who you are, not who the world wants you to be.’
“What does the world want me to be?” she croaked against his skin.
“All the things you are not. A creature of light. Something weak.”
She hummed, “Haven’t you made me so?” It came out as a whisper. He throat felt dry, raw.
“Soon, you will not be. Soon you will be the Queen of Everything.”
“Of the darkness,” she whispered back.
“Of Eternity,” he answered in kind.
“You would use me as a tool,” she said, but the fight had gone from her. “Let me rest then.” She closed her eyes, and did not shift as she was tucked in a bed. Sleep came fast and dreamless.
He watched her pale face, bloodless as marble. She was a thing of beauty. She was a thing to bring death riding in on it’s pale horse and the horrors that would follow, but he would shield her from them.
“The Wolf will try to take you from me. He will try, my love, and he will fail.” She made no answer. He could almost feel the velvety darkness of her sleep. “Sleep well, my love. Sleep well.” He leaned down, pressing their lips together. His fangs pricked her lips, and the kiss was sweeter for it.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
The catacombs below the city were lit by candlelight, but it barely banished the darkness. She walked in a haze, never entirely sure if she was still dreaming or if in a wakeful state. She moved by his side, the children moving about them.
Something was on the cusp of happening. She could feel it. The air was heavy with it, and it lingered like a hot summer day. “Someone is coming. They will be here soon.”
Dracula’s hand on her shoulder was heavy. “Soon, but not yet. Not yet.”
“No, not yet,” she agreed. She tried to focus on the darkness around them, to peer through the haze of pale faces. She couldn't even make out their features. “But soon.” Tears fell from her cheeks, but she couldn't’ say why. Her hand lifted, bring back salty moisture, mixed with bits of blood. “What is happening to me?”
“Change.” He said simply. “Change.”
She breathed that in, and straightened. “I chose this.”
“You did. It was your choice,” he agreed.
She smiled into the darkness and felt it creep into her a molecule at a time. She felt herself fall away, and the monster that she had so long caged come to the fore. The world darkened, and sharpened. “Thank you then.” She looked out into the crowd around them, into the darkness, and it sharpened still more until there was little enough left of the old Vanessa. “You shouldn’t fear them. This was meant to be.”
He smiled into the dark, humorlessly.
She looked off into the darkness. “Have faith.” Her lips curled into an amused smile. “We will win. The world will be bathed in the night, in darkness. We will...we will win.”
He was silent a beat, and held out his hand. “Come see what we have wrought then.”
Her hand slipped into his own, and they walked through the catacombs, through the darkness and up into the fog above. The light was a dim memory. The cries of pain lingered as they walked. Tears and pain that she let rush over her. “Is this what I am supposed to be?”
The cries died out, like the end of a favoured song.
“My Queen,” his voice was music to her ears. A song of the end.
“I love you,” she said, the words felt odd on her tongue. “I love you,” she tried it again, and a third time until it did not stumble off of her lips. She was sure. This was the truth. Her God truly had forsaken her, and she let him. The fog wafted around them, rats shadowing their steps, and death walking after.
“I love you,” he echoed, his cool hand in her own.
The sweet smell of death wafted around them, and the metallic smell of blood. Her heart beat sluggishly in her chest, and her veins burned. Her chest burned, and a hunger rose in her that would know no end. Their gaze met, and she smiled a smile that had none of it’s old cynicism or despair. She could hear the heartbeats around them. The rats, and bigger prey. Thinking prey. Death would follow her. He had said that to her, and it would indeed.
He would follow her into the abyss if need be, but for now only into the darkness in search of a life.
Maybe it would even stop the hunger for a time.