I watch as the flames fall around my home and I stand, shivering on the edge of the snow trodden path. The tears falling down my cheeks freeze to me as I hear the wagon of dead ride away. I glance as they leave me in the freezing snow, shaking my as I pull the ratty blanket closer around me.
The soldiers were supposed to have helped us, but they left me in the cold, to freeze to death as a half breed rat who somehow survived the Indian plague that took my mother and sister. My stomach rolls from the rotten food, the baker's son's offings having long since spoiled before I'd eaten it and that was several days ago.
The snow grows heavier and I resist the urge to crumple to the ground and allow it to swallow me as I try to come to what I have to do next. The wind whips around me and I hear something moving around me that I can't see. I wipe my tears and look back at the fire again.
"Flames are an erie thing, aren't they?" I hear a voice say and I look to see a man standing directly beside me. He has dark hair like mine and piercing grey eyes and that seem to cut through me. "Do you understand what I'm saying to you, little squaw?" I bit back a remark, not wanting to use my trembling voice and nod slowly. "You aren't ill, are you?" I shake my head and he smirks. "Good. I'd hate a foul meal."
Before I can even scream, he pins me to the ground his nails digging into my neck, his eyes flare red and I can see the veins pulsing in his neck. He leans down and I cry out as his teeth sink deep into my neck. I feel him licking at my neck and I wail out as he pulls away covering my mouth, his lips red with my blood. I bite his hand and his eyes just flash angrily as he looks at me until his eyes turn softer and he sighs. A smirk crosses his face and he brushes hair away from my face.
"So, even the hopeless still want to live sometimes, huh?" He tuts and I stare at him, my vision starting to grow fuzzy. "No, not, no, don't you go fading away just yet. I think I'll keep you around." He looks at me again and places his hand tighter against my lips "Drink, Catnip."
The last thing I remember as I fade away is a warm, metallic taste against my lips and my heart slowing to silence.
YOU ARE READING
Careless Whispers
幻想~Written in the fever dream of the new obsession I've found in my lonely days of office work, the Vampire Diaries~ I've lived through times of joy, of war, of so very many things. Loved ones have long been lost and I can only find comfort it seems...
