Edith Stone sat on a bench that overlooked a park that seemed to stretch out forever. This area was a popular place to spot some of the greatest minds in history. They would often congregate here, in a meeting of the minds, one that attracted a slew of onlookers.
She was a woman in her early forties, and had this shine in her hazelnut eyes that never dulled. Her raven black hair and sunburned skin gave her an exotic look, but that was a byproduct of where she lived in the last years of her life.
Her feminine curves, fit physique and the sharp features served only to enhance her beauty. Unlike many who frequented this place, she opted to maintain her true form, flaws and all. Because, in her mind, it made her all the more human, even if she was anything but.
She was even proud to wear the deep scars that ran down her back. These were reminders of the hard life she endured, just like any hunter of her calibre.
While many of the patrons loved nothing more than to find Einstein and Newton indulging in their love of mathematics, Edith had no such interests. There was one person, and one person only she sought in this bazaar of human history's finest.
"Did you know that you keep better time than a clock?" Angela asked from a distance.
Edith turned around and beamed a warm smile. Before her stood the red headed child, she fell in love with over a century ago. Her pale skin, red hair and green eyes were ever-present, no matter what age she chose to appear as.
"You know, I prefer it when you come as you are," Edith said.
This version of Angela was a young woman of immense beauty. At this age, her freckles had paled, while her figure had fully formed into the sultry body of a dancer. She had lips that beckoned, forever moist, and yearned for that intimate touch only her true love could provide.
Edith let a soft gasp escape her lips, the shock of seeing Angela in this form never failed to stir intense desire. Although to hear this one talk, one would think that her nose was her only redeeming feature. An opinion that Edith contested every time that subject came up.
The radiant redhead closed the distance between them, and embraced Edith who was both older and taller. For a second they stared longingly into each other's eyes, while Angela traced her lover's lips with a finger.
She then nibbled on her lower lip, feeling parts of her grow moist, compelling her to move closer, until their lips made contact. It was as though the ground trembled whenever they kissed, every time, a moment of pure and utter rapture.
The immaculate park and its patrons faded into a fog, until only they remained. Their passion, this act of intimacy, did not need to be shared with every soul in proximity. Besides, their love for one another was never meant to be shared with the public. Even here, they were taboos that were not meant to be broken.
"Alone at last," Edith said with a contented sigh.
"That's why I chose this age," Angela said. "How can I indulge in the sweet lips of an angel as a child?"
"True," Edit answered while she subconsciously ruffled her white feathered wings.
Angela, despite her name, did not have a pair of her own. While Saint Peter granted entry into Heaven, or the immortal realm, she did not merit elevation. Her death may have been slow and excruciating at the hands of a ghoul, one that sensed the cancer consuming her from within, but that had not been enough.
Edith on the other hand, had dedicated the bulk of her life to hunting things that preyed on humanity. Or at least that was true, until she found a better cause to fight for.
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The Van Helsing ResurgenceFantasy
Clara Grey was a hunter in life, a part of a secret organisation known only as the Tower. During the Roaring Twenties, this femme fatale flapper sacrificed herself to end the life of a powerful vampire. As a reward, she joined the ranks of Heaven's...