[Requiem - Katherine] Anabel Lee
I have spilled the blood of hundreds of innocents, fallen to the darkest parts of myself and returned and yet I am faced with a challenge that confuses and compels me. I have suffered countless moments of flattery with the grace allowed me by the ages, but when she speaks I can feel the blush that would rise to my cheeks were I still living.
Perhaps it is her youth or her innocence.
No.
There is no innocence in the blood of kindred. Our very nature means we are corrupt and spiteful. We are a single misstep from being beast. And I…I am a monster.
She is a blessing and a curse.
She is untainted beauty to which I am beholden. I do not deserve her. I am the creature of her nightmares, the horror that stalks her dreams. And while I have met those like her before…she is different.
I could bend her to my will.
Break her.
Change her.
Corrupt. Her.
No.
I want her whole and pure. She is my angel in this hell, my light in the darkness. I see none of myself in her. And I pray to whichever god will heed my desperate whispers that I never will.
Please, I beg.
Keep her.
Preserve her.
Save her.
If only she could know the danger she flirts with. Every gentle caress I leave upon her skin, every word that falls from my lips mars her…bruises her. She doesn’t see. But I cannot ignore the stains left on my fingertips, colored with the dust of a moth’s wing.
Still.
I cannot refuse her. I can see before me the path that has been laid out, made clear to me by a seer and his cards. One. Simple. Word. And I cannot find the strength to tell her.
No.
Perhaps it is her youth or her innocence.
No.
There is no innocence in the blood of kindred. Our very nature means we are corrupt and spiteful. We are a single misstep from being beast. And I…I am a monster.
She is a blessing and a curse.
She is untainted beauty to which I am beholden. I do not deserve her. I am the creature of her nightmares, the horror that stalks her dreams. And while I have met those like her before…she is different.
I could bend her to my will.
Break her.
Change her.
Corrupt. Her.
No.
I want her whole and pure. She is my angel in this hell, my light in the darkness. I see none of myself in her. And I pray to whichever god will heed my desperate whispers that I never will.
Please, I beg.
Keep her.
Preserve her.
Save her.
If only she could know the danger she flirts with. Every gentle caress I leave upon her skin, every word that falls from my lips mars her…bruises her. She doesn’t see. But I cannot ignore the stains left on my fingertips, colored with the dust of a moth’s wing.
Still.
I cannot refuse her. I can see before me the path that has been laid out, made clear to me by a seer and his cards. One. Simple. Word. And I cannot find the strength to tell her.
No.