The Torn Sins

Chapter I

All is silent.

The air, in its stiff, malfunctioning way, does not speak. The sun, in its foolish and festering way, rises. And it does away with the darkness, but not the silence. No, I can have the silence for just a moment longer.

The warmth washes over me, seeping in through my white, transparent curtains. Why did Father make them white? Why must they let the light in? I hiss as my eyes beg to open, they beg to see, but I mustn't let them. It'll burn, it always burns. Oh god, what am I, that my eyes burn?! Why can't I be normal and immune to the sunlight as the others are?

I hear footsteps coming up the stairs of the tower, my tower, because of what I saw, because of what I've seen. These footsteps distract me from my frantic thoughts and I focus on them instead. They are heavy and brisk. They speak of authority, but there is a touch of care in them...Father is here.

I sit up in my bed and curl into a ball; my eyes are still squeezed shut tight. Excitement courses through me, Father is here, Father will speak to me, Father will love me. Mother...Mother never loved.

Three brisk knocks sound upon my door and I speak for the first time in a week. The maids and servants are not allowed to talk to me and after my first month here I just stopped trying to convince them I wasn't so bad. "Come in," I call and in walks my first love.

Father's visits are secret, they are forbidden. No one is to see or speak to me. But Father is the King, and kings have ways, or at least that's what Father has told me. Father has never lied.

"Cybil, open your eyes," he whispers and I feel him sit on the bed. I feel him touch my hand. I want to see him but I still shake my head no. "Cybil, will you please look at me," he pleads.

"You're not supposed to see my eyes, you can't keep seeing my eyes!" I urge frantically. Then I feel his fingers on my face, tracing my cheekbones, up to my eyelids. I whimper as he pushes slightly and then a bit of light seeps in through the opening he has created. Before I can protest he pushes a little more and then my eyes are opened. The light floods into my dilated pupils and I hiss a bit but I don't close my eyes again. It takes my vision a moment to adjust but once it does I find myself staring into the beautiful eyes of my father. They are a hunter green, similar to my own, and they see things...just as mine do. I inherited my gift from my father. However, Father was smart enough to keep his mouth shut about the things he saw...I was not. I had to go around screaming things out.

"There she is, my daughter, now I can see you," as his own green eyes stare into mine I smile. It's been awhile since I've seen my room in the light of day. I have forgotten how lovely it is, with its silken sheets and vibrant colors. I have forgotten how spoiled I am. Even being locked in a tower, I am still given much. "I worry for you here my sweet. Let the memories be washed away so you can go free, so you can have life again."

"I'm fine," I reassure him. My speech is calming, my heart is relaxing, and I am remembering things. Like sunlight, manners, proper English. I am a princess, there is a way I should carry myself. My legs unravel themselves and my back straightens out. I am not a child, I am seventeen, I am not a child.

"You lose your mind when you're here, I should visit you more often," guilt sinks into his eyes.

My hand grabs his and I stroke his skin gently with my thumb. "You're a busy man Father, you're a king. You have more important things to do, you can't come see your insane daughter all the time," I shrug.

"You're not insane," he defends immediately. "You are extremely sane, you see everything the way it truly is. The rest of the world is insane, they are blinded," he is ranting now and I start to block him out. If I don't, if I respond or agree, then my insanity could infect him. He sees so much; how he lives I'll never know. "Cybil are you listening to me?" he snaps.

"Of course Father," I answer automatically.

He grins at me before shaking his head in humor. "You are so similar to your mother."

My eyes go dark, and the insanity rises up within me again instantly, "I am nothing like her. She is blind, foolish, and evil. I am you, I am you, I am you!" I scream.

He wraps his arms around me to keep me from thrashing wildly, "Okay, okay, relax," he soothes. As he speaks these soft words to me my heartbeat slows in my chest and I become calm again.

"I'm sorry, I lost control. You just...you mustn't say things like that," I mutter.

"Of course, forgive me my sweet," he says in my ear. He is still holding me, stroking my hair, giving me physical contact. This is something I long for every time he leaves. As if my thoughts have triggered his next words he says, "I must go soon."

My eyes begin to water, but I pull away and nod, "I know, I know," I kiss his cheek and then curl into a tight ball. It is always easier if I don't watch him leave.

"Before I go...I want you to eat something," my heart goes still in my chest and I shake my head quickly. "Cybil...it is important for us to feed, so that we stay strong and stay alive. Just because we told the world you tried to kill yourself doesn't mean you have to actually try to kill yourself. The servants tell me you don't eat the meals they bring."

"Innocents! They bring me harmless, innocent slaves. I can't feed from them anymore...not since the change! These slaves don't know me and they're terrified. I feel their fear, see their lives and families. They'll go home to these families torn down and hurt if I feed from them. I don't mind feeding...just let me do it with some dignity. Back home, after I'd had my change, I only fed from Feeders, because they weren't afraid. They knew me and respected me and were used to being bitten," I sigh, knowing he probably does not understand. Even with my father having the same gift as me, he has never cared as much as I do.

"Alright, I'll try to fix it...in the meantime, drink from me," he urges and holds out his wrist. I stare at it in shock for a moment. It is unceremonious to drink from the wrist, but it also passionate to drink from the neck and the thought of being passionate with my father causes me to shudder. For a vampire to allow another vampire to feed from them...it is the greatest sign of love, something shared between mates and family only. I give him a small smile and without saying a single word I wrap my tiny hands around his wrist. As I squeeze with my vampiric strength I notice the veins rise up, I watch the muscles clench underneath his skin, and I know there is a delicacy beneath that skin so lovely. Images start to roar through my mind, all of him, of his past, the things he's done. The beginning of his life is blurry, unimportant, but once I am born the memories get clearer and stronger.

As his view of my life starts to roar through my mind I release my fangs and take my bite. The reaction is instant; the blood splatters into my mouth, across the taste buds that rest upon my tongue. The images press harder as we bond and connect in a father daughter way. His first time holding me, playing at the park, my first feed, my first school lesson, so much of him is me. As the blood slides down my throat I feel a bit of my strength and sanity begin to return. I feed until he stops me, letting the warm liquid cool the burn in my throat. Once we are disconnected I notice the tears streaming down his cheeks and I wrap my arms around him tightly.

"Come home to me, you're my daughter, come home to me," he whispers in my ear and my heart longs to say yes. To tell him that I'll let my memories be washed and become his little princess again. But another piece of me knows that can't happen. I have to stand up for what I believe is right, I cannot live amongst the lies.

"Tell the Royals that their princess loves them," I whisper back to him and he pulls away, standing quickly. The hurt is clear in his eyes.

"We have a story set up for you...you tried to kill yourself and therefore you were sent somewhere safe. Until you are sane again you are dead to us all. That is what your mother tells the people. That is a lie and yet the truth is an even more horrid thing. What was done to the humans was wrong, the things your mother has done, those are wrong as well. But they were done so that your own species could live. The gift of sight is a hard one to carry but as a princess you must carry it. Eventually you will need to tell the Royals yourself," after his harsh words he turns and leaves, slamming the door behind him and causing my body to react with a jerk. His words sink in and stun me into silence. It isn't until I feel the sobs racking my body that I realize I am crying profusely. I am alone again.