[𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝟎] - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐬
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❝𝑩𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝑯𝒊𝒎 𝒃𝒚 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅❞
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You raised your hand, your fingers trembling as a dark, crimson color dripped off of your (s/c) skin. At the center of the street, the warmth of his skin drew itself away from his body. He weakly reached up to you, tightly squeezing your dyed hands as his vision grew foggy. The trace of blood whiffled through the air, replacing the freshly fallen snow. You could feel his body grow cold as you held onto him with what remained of yourself. His once soft hair had grown dirtied, his lively hands becoming frail as he let out a series of coughs that dribbled blood. Despite the painful aches that were rushing through your heart, his smile killed you in a way you couldn't imagine. He weakly raised his hand, touching your cheek as you leaned your head against his.
You choked out a sob, trying to bring him close to you as the air turned bitter. He whispered to you. A few words that struck a chord within the center of your heart. He played you so well that you swore that he would be the only one for you, the only one you could put your heart out to care for. He begged you with his remaining soul. You resisted the urge to curl into a ball, your desperation, and struggle to rip apart your clothes with only one hand was sending you into a fury of panic. You cried out his name, urging him to stay with you but he only shook his head.
He gave you a soft, cheerful smile, one that sent shivers down your spine. Your lips quivered as you brought your hand towards his pale cheek, listening to the sounds of his gentle breaths. Each puff of air floated to the snowy abyss, leaving you behind. He continued to gaze at you with a loving expression, his childish appearance beginning to fade in color. The edges of his smile became shorter with each passing second. He became as quiet as a mouse, not a single word or sound to be heard from him. His fingers no longer held onto you, his bones too weak and frail to continue. His legs no longer bounced joyously like a rabbit. He who had been your entire world at the time faded like snowflakes on your skin.
'Live. . . with my memory,' he repeated. It rang in your ear as the sounds of laughter erupted from behind your figure. You stared at his limp body, your blood running cold at the sight. Small beads of snow rested against his cheek, the red tint of his knuckles wilting away as you shivered. You felt your cold tears rise in temperature. The color of your face being drained as you stared at the claret snow. You sat on the ground, unmoving as you watched your single tear drip down your (s/c) cheeks, falling and shattering upon the impact of his skin. The love that you felt, the warmth that you craved so dearly from him was reduced to nothing more than a fleeting feeling. The time that you spent with him disappeared so easily as if it had been worth extinction.
Your heart dyed itself an ebony color as you found yourself drifting off into the hollow depths of your subconscious. As your tears settled on his now cold skin, you released an ear-piercing scream as you tilted your head to the heavens, crying out in agony and misery. Your body convulsed as you raised your last remaining arm, your nails digging themselves into your charred skin as it flaked away. The thumping of your organs caused you to jerk back slightly. The bright colors of your (e/c) irises faded into ruby, the light that had reflected off of your pupils now reduced to ash as you let out a heavy breath, your eyes staring at the darkening clouds. The crowd behind you shook in fear as they dropped their rifles, the snow collecting pieces of their sweat as they fell back.
She laid herself against his frozen neck, her arm snapping as she let out her very first breath into the world. To think that she would be born in a place of despair brought her a sense of numbness within. She drew out her fangs, the scent of blood hovering through the air.
You slowly cracked open your eyes, finding your body encased in a coffin of snow. The skies were shrouded in thick layers of the white abyss, its light barely peeking through its cracks. You attempted to move your fingers, trying to feel for some kind of warmth. From underneath the blanket of ashen, you found yourself too weak to dig yourself out. You couldn't feel anything but the cold surface that rested on top of you. The weight of the soil and snow becoming nearly impossible to escape from. You had been used to hearing the sounds of carriages drawn over your body. You had also been used to the cries of people who had fallen before you. The sounds of war echoed throughout the now empty field.
How long has it been since you gained consciousness? You asked yourself, struggling to bring yourself out from your grave. Your throat was beginning to feel parched but you couldn't raise your hand to touch your neck, your fingers barely had enough strength to feel around the small crevice you were buried underneath. You were starting to fear that freedom was far from your sights. How many years has it been since you've fallen asleep? You weren't entirely sure. Your memories felt hazy and it felt like thousands of years had gone by. You were beginning to wonder what sort of trouble had brought you here, to be buried underneath the ground.
Before you could drift off into your own self-consciousness, the sound of rustling leaves and footsteps alerted you to someone. You could hear the cold wings flap against the front of their clothes, their sneezes and sniffles echoing as they crawled towards your resting spot. Their gloved hands began to wipe away at the snow, revealing portions of your frozen body. You weakly grasped at the warm feeling of their gloves, the tips of your nails dragging themselves across the material as you attempted communication.
"So this is where you were," A young man's voice called out, the edges of his lips curving into a bright smile as he uncovered more of your body. He caved through the snow with only his gloved hands, the point of his nose becoming red as he ignored the freezing weather. "After thousands of years, I thought you were just some legend."
He wiped away the glistening snow on your (s/c) skin, revealing your doll-like body. Your (e/c) eyes glanced up at him, watching his every move like a waiting hawk as he continued to buy his hands through the snow. His earrings dangled from his ears, the tips glowing red from the cold. You could hear him utter curses and complaints about the bitterly cold weather, but without much resistance, he continued to dig. You could smell the fresh scent of a human lingering on the tips of your nose, sending shivers down your spine as you breathed out a cloud of air. Once he had enough space to pull your body out of the snow, he brought you into a sitting position on his lap, your legs placed on either side of him. You leaned your weak body against him as he examined your prosthetic arm, toying with the material until he unlocked a hatch at the base of your elbow. He pulled out a cracked material, his bright blue eyes scanning it thoroughly before placing it back into the hidden compartment.
"Your astermite is damaged," he says, his fingers roaming through the edges and crooks of your prosthetic arm. "We can get it replaced in Paris in a few days. I'll get a mechanic to fix the rest of your arm since it's in bad shape." Your eyes slowly fluttered shut, feeling the warmth of his coat surround your freezing body. You leaned further into the crook of his neck, trying to keep a piece of his warmth for yourself. His eyes trialed across the surface of your (s/c) skin, squeezing it as he let out a small, amused hum.
His eyes darkened as he brought his hand to caress your face until he forcefully parted your lips, revealing your fangs that threatened to pierce through the material of his gloves. He glided his finger against the tips of your fangs, allowing them to puncture the top section of his finger. You thought that he tasted sweet, almost as sweet as sugar. His smile raised itself to be cheeky. "Do you want more?" He taunted, wiping away at the small fickle of snow that rested on the tops of your eyelashes. He could tell through the windows of your eyes the passion that was hidden beneath it all, the impediment and wrath that you bottled up inside. You craved nothing more than retribution. You wanted reprisal. From the small ounce of blood given to you, your once weak hand gripped at the outer layers of his cheek, bringing him close to your face as you let out a softer breath.
"Do you want. . . a taste of my blood?" He whispered, leaving the world out to freeze as he shared a moment of warmth with you. You chose not to respond to him, opening your mouth to reveal your glossy tongue. He let out a small hum, allowing you to drink from him. Instead of biting the crooks of his neck as he expected, you moved forward to connect your lips with his. He squirmed as he felt your cold tongue break through his barrier, coaxing his muscle out. He nervously gripped your arms, listening to the clicking of your prosthetic. You tilted his head to the side lightly, sinking your fangs into his tongue. His hand reached to touch yours, squeezing it softly as you drained him of his blood.
You pressed yourself further against him, your strength finally coming back to you as you pushed him into the snowy ground. You left no room for God to interfere. Your separate hand gripped at his shoulder, your lips parting themselves as he let out heavy breaths. His cheeks had formed an apple-red tint, the tips of his ears sharing the same fierce color as he smiled in amusement. You leaned forward to lick at the remaining blood that dribbled from his lips, your eyes watching as he playfully opened his mouth, revealing your Mark of Possession that had branded his tongue.
"Were you that needy? Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere, you can drink as much as you like," he comments, listening to the sounds of your heavy breaths that tickled the fronts of his lips. The taste of his blood was still dangling in front of you, coating the outer layers of your tongue and so close to you that you fear for his life. You held onto his shoulder as your body trembled. "I can't have you drinking from me without something in return though," his gloved hands reached to caress your (h/c) hair, bringing your head close to him.
"If you want more of my blood then you must swear an oath to me." He said, kissing the edges of your ears as you quivered. "You belong to me and only me. You will listen to my orders and follow my word. Don't forget. . ." He felt your fangs graze the surface of his neck, his lips curving into a devilish grin, "who you belong to."
You dug your fangs deep into him, accepting his pledge as you linked yourself to him.
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