Love & Trust

    Darkness so intense it has the capability to murder is persent this particualr night. Not a special night but an ordinary time when the moon is the only source of light for tens of miles. That's where he stands: in the middle of the darkness, letting it envelop his very self. The stone in front of him is ordinary except for carved out shapes representing some being he once knew. Fog swirls everywhere around him and that object but doesn't dare to separate or become a part of that space full of emotions. His white ensemble makes him seem even more pale but no living being is around to witness this sight. He never likes people around him and this time in particular the scent of anybody but her would make him vomit. Instead he remains standing in the loneliness waiting for the first drop of sunlight to sting his skin.
    If only God will give him the courage to stand there, in that one spot, as the sun rises and he falls. Fear, howevver, takes him first and he begins to move away from the grave before the rays of death make their way on and over the mountains. At first he only takes one step back, bringing his hands from behind his back to reveal a single red rose, but walks away after brushing his lips over the blooming flower and tossing it to the ground for the dew to enclose its new guest in its cold embrace.
    She had been everything he wasn't. Now that she was gone, he was nothing at all.

    It was early fall when they had met for the first time. He was turning away from the Butcher's counter, a paper bag half full in his arms, when he smelt her. That distinct smell that could drive a man to do anything was coming from a girl, or young woman, entering the building. Her body flowed as her hair flew out from under a tight cap and his movements came to a hault. Having no idea just how beautiful she was, the female made her way to the counter without one glance in his direction.
    He walked slowly toward the door, but didn't exit. Instead he waited. Waited for her. She turned and began to glide toward him, her eyes locked onto his and she almost faltered that second. The awkwardeness came as silence deafened the room when she looked him up and down. He felt her heart beating slightly faster, not from fear, but from attraction. He made his way closer to introduce himself. The conversation began light, then she agreed when he asked her if she wanted somebody to walk her home.
    The sun was on the verge of rising but he could care less at this particular moment. As they approached her door he noticed her heart had begun beating faster and he momentarily stopped conversation to listen to the effect it had on her. His eyes moved down to her neck for a second, then to his feet before he asked her to go out that night. She agreed.

    As the minute gets closer to sunrise, Damien moves faster to get to the cries a block away. The woman is pressed up against the wall with a man twice her size pinning her throat. She still manages to let out fearful shouts but all are muffled until Damien grabs the man's shirt and hauls him across the alleyway. Watching the man fall, he sees the woman grab for her purse and run out of the alleyway before focusing on the man once more. Licking his lips, Damien moves to the crouching figure. He moves slowly, creating more fear and adrenaline, playing with his mouse who was the cat only a moment ago. The man jumps up and begins to move toward the main road but only moves a step or two before sharp nails dig into his shoulders and shove him into the brick. One hand reaches up to push his head up and two sharp pangs come to his neck before he realizes the world is turning black. Damien pulls out of the man's neck and, while letting him drop, wipes the back of his hand across his mouth to remove excess blood. He doesn't care he just ended a life. Not anymore.

    He had never loved this much before. She was every woman he had ever known combined and he couldn't help but see each woman in her. Of course every female, or any human for that matter, he had ever known had died after time passed. This one would be no different. She would get older and bitter at him for never changing in appearance but he would remain true to her until her death when he would bury her alongside the rest of his past loves. This is why he wouldn't kill for blood: everybodoy dies too soon eventually so why shorten it more?
    There she was, beautiful as ever with her hair spread over the pillow, making her look like a goddess from heaven. She had the most gorgeous smile that could warm all his thoughts and ease his pain. That one night he had understood how much they were meant to be together and realized what he must do. As they lay next to each other he began to stroke her hair away from her face.
    "Do you love me?" Damien whispered softly into her ear.
    "You know I do," her voice sang back to him.
    "Do you trust me?"
    "Always."
    He rolled on top of her placing kisses across her face, moving down to her neck. His cold tongue grazed against her skin, making it contract into bumps but with her eyes closed she hardly winced when her skin was pierced. He assumed that her first instinct would be to push him away but she remained still as her sweet blood flowed into his mouth. He pinned her arms down as her eyes rolled to the back of her head and the last part of her was consumed. His heart felt as though it had started to beat for the first time in hundreds of years and his head was floating to heaven as he carried her dead body underground to where they could live together for eternity.

    Damien opens the door to his apartment and stands in the doorway hesitantly before walking across the room to the couch. Overall his room is consumed in the darkness except for one small lamp standing next to him on an end table. The shades are closed, there is no television, no other rooms. Just a couch in the main room and a kitchen area that remains empty. He thinks of her: her hair, her movements, and he becomes calm before his anger builds up again with more intensity. He grabs the light next to him, cursing at it, and throws it against the opposite wall. He curls into a small ball, not moving as a knock comes to the door before a kick bursts it open.
    He looks up slowly and sees that it is her standing in the doorway. He looks back down to the floor and finally up again to her. She walks in and closes the door. Her hair is very long, a pitch black, but it refuses to move the way it once could. She glides towards him with a rose in one hand and brings his head onto her chest. He doesn't flinch away but there is no emotion in his eyes as he is moved. She forces his head to look up at hers and presents the flower to him.
  "It's a rose, darling," she says excitingly, "a rose that I found for you outside in the cold. It's always cold nowadays. Even in Europe it was freezing. I came back for you but you weren't there." Noticing he wasn't going to answer she continued, "I found you here, though, didn't I?"
    As she sits next to him she forces the flower into his hand. He takes the rose and studies the many thorns that could prick a finger, make it bleed. Damien looks back up at her and leans over to kiss her soft lips that he has kissed many times before. This time it has a diffferent feeling and meaning behind it. He takes the rose and swings the stem at her heart.

    He came home with the packaged blood for her knowing that her hunger would be aching and he refused to let her feed on another human. When he came into the underground house in the sewers she was already awake and waiting for him eagerly. He didn't know why but she was different. He brought the blood to her and after opening it he raised the bag to her craving lips for her to drink. She drank some of it and then pushed his hand away.
    She stood up and started to pace frantically.
    Her eyes pierced through his and he noticed the differenece. Her spark of humanity was gone. Her scent, her smile, it had all left when he consumed her and wouldn't return. It was his fault. He was the monster that damned her soul to the same hell his was in. Even worse, he had killed the only ounce of humanity left in himself.
    After that day he began to treat her like his child instead of lover. He began to take her out every night to show her the world through new eyes but would never let her wander alone. Her scent was no longer there, nor her soul but he still could feel a connection, a type of love. A love for a daughter that would always be his.
    He left the house to obtain blood one early morning, leaving nothing but a kiss upon her resting forehead. It felt nice for him to get away from the responsibility and while she was asleep was the only safe time. This day, however, was unlike others for when he arrived home there was no sleeping beauty. Damien was alone for an entire year until he realized she left him forever. She may have been dead or was just sick of him. All he knew was that his daughter and lover had been taken from him in one brief moment and he could barely stand the pain from it.
    He finally gave up and built his lover her own headstone to praise the woman she had once been. For hours he stared at the tombstone and at all the roses he had laid there beside it. He wanted to die right there with all of them. He wanted to have the sun shine upon him so he could get one more look at the light he had hid from for lifetimes. He wanted to experience one final sunrise but his feet brought him away. Every night after that, he would return to that spot but always walked away.

    Her reflexes kick in and she stops the rose from moving another inch. She does this so suddenly that his hand slips and blood is drawn from the thorns. Again his lover's body looks into his eyes and through what humanity he has left. He just stares at her while understanding what she will do next. The rose pierces through his heart as she kisses his lips passionately. Voices are heard in his head and he smiles to himself as she puts him to his final rest.

    "Do you love me?"
    "You know I do."
    "Do you trust me?"
    "Always."