Revenge P.1 | v

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Now all she wanted was human blood. Animal blood was back to tasting like rust on a nail. It would take some time for her to become accustomed to it again. Until then she had three days to find a chest she had gotten rid of centuries before in a world that was fast becoming larger than most had suspected. You no longer fell off the edge into nothingness; you entered a new world. That new world and the old were connected completely now. A wooden box was a needle in a very large, ever expanding haystack. For all she knew someone may have used it as firewood on a long winter's night.

Nerina paced conflicted and torn in so many different directions. She wanted her revenge. Needed it. It was the only thing anchoring her to her sanity. The thought of it being a reality fueled her. On the other hand, she knew it was not an idle threat Eve had made about the stupid wooden box. She would kill as many people as she needed to until she had it in her hands. With those two dilemmas, there was also the fact that she was now on human blood. After years of not drinking it, and after her initial thought that she would be able to handle it, Nerina had her doubts.

Nerina knew it did not make sense to start looking for the chest. She would not be able to find it much less in the three days allotted. It was virtually impossible. People were going to die.

With a massacre came blood, and Eve was going to paint the world red with it. Since she had started to drink human blood, again, Nerina had not encountered it on a large scale. The temptation of a heartbeat was one thing, the temptation of blood thick and rich in the air was something else. The three men she had killed so far had been tests in themselves. It was a wonder she had not leveled out an entire village. Nerina did not think she would be able to handle so much blood. She had thought she would be able to control it. Thought it was the right decision but now she was not so sure. Losing herself in the name of revenge...she was not so sure anymore.

Nerina pulled at her hair screaming her frustration. She could go on the run. Then Eve would run after her leaving a trail of death behind her. More fathers killing their wives and children, more humans turning against each other like wild beasts. Suddenly her need for revenge was taking a backseat to the panic that tasted like bile on her tongue.

She was ripe and ready for it. Ready for her due. What she was not ready for was what was at the bottom of the rabbit hole. She had thought she had been ready when she was high on anger. All that hate. Nerina still felt them now but they were not raw and on the surface.

She did not think she would be able to keep herself if she went too far. How far would be far enough to take Eve down permanently? How far would be far enough to be able to outsmart that woman? If she stayed for revenge, how far would she drop before she could get a handle on herself? Was it worth it in the end? Losing herself to revenge?

It was self-preservation over saving human lives.

Nerina's view of humanity had grown rather dim over the centuries. Yes, she wanted all the advantages of being a human, but she had also grown to see the advantages of being a vampire. She wanted parts of the two worlds. She wanted to be a vampire without the need for blood but with the ability to walk in the sunlight like a human without the frailty and death breathing down her neck as her mortal years slipped by.

And what would they do with her? She would be risking everything to save them and they would condemn her to the fires of hell. Nerina owed them nothing. They were living the lives she wanted to live. She wanted a home. She wanted children. She wanted a husband. She wanted love. She wanted peace. They had it all. They had everything she did not. Things she once had but had lost in a fire. Yet they tarnish it with such greed and cruelty towards each other.

Nerina threw herself on the ground thumping the dirt. Eve had taken everything. Made her into—this. Even if she killed Eve, she still had nothing. What was she fighting for? What was the sense? Where was the hope? She would never have anything again. Why was she fighting for an endless forever of loneliness and nothingness? And fighting for freedom for what? To be alone? Freedom to be miserable on her own?

Then a sick thought came to her. Eve gave her purpose, something to do. Running. Hiding. It had stopped life from being one monotonous hum. She had to constantly keep moving, constantly keep changing. Then she had killed Eve and she had done her best to fall into a normal routine. She had been miserable though she had moved from one day to the next simply existing.

There had been no purpose. Then Fionn came along and filled her with not only purpose but also hope. Instead of running for her life, she had been living her life. A good life. Fionn and his adventures. Fionn the man. Fionn and her. Her life had finally felt right. Now it was empty again. Cold.

She wanted to go numb. Block it all out.

Nerina needed an anchor always or she would start to feel as if she was blowing away. Her anchor now was the buzz she got from drinking human blood. She needed something to fill the gaping void. Something to keep her focused. There was a storm in her mind. The emptiness was a throbbing ache. She just needed to go numb. Just for a little bit. Not to want. Not to need. Not to yearn. Not to hope. Simply sink into the nothingness and feel—nothing.

***

On the stroke of midnight, Eve looked up as the clock in the square went—

"Ding, dong, ding, dong, ding, dong," she repeated this as she walked through the streets. "Ding, dong, ding, dong." Eve walked up the steps to a house that caught her interest. Inside she heard a lovely voice singing. A woman. The piano accompanying her voice was a soft tune like a lullaby.

Eve stood listening to it for a while closing her eyes. She could imagine the woman's delicate fingers floating over the keys. The woman with her eyes closed seeing the music with her mind's eye as her fingers brought it to life. She knocked at the door. There was a silent second before the woman came to answer it.

Not a woman.

A girl no more than eighteen. Poetic. Eve had no problem getting herself an invitation.

"May I come in?"


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Author's Note:

And so the mayhem, the blood, and the good times begin...


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