"I never wish to see your face again."
My heart ached as I replied, "You are not the father I believed you to be," tears cascading down my cheeks. As dinner approached, the thought of food held no appeal for me; the emotional turmoil rendered me unable to find solace in the simplest of comforts.
Earlier, I observed my mother surreptitiously adding a peculiar red liquid and an unidentified herb to my drink, leaving me perplexed about her intentions. She persistently urged me to consume the beverage while monopolizing the conversation, creating an atmosphere that felt increasingly isolating.
The others present cast disapproving glances in my direction, as if silently communicating their desire for me to depart from the scene. Despite my reservations, I took a sip of the enigmatic concoction she had prepared; its flavour was unusual yet tolerable. Ultimately, I chose to distance myself from the group, feeling a strong aversion to engaging with their judgmental demeanour.
Upon entering my room, I found myself engulfed in a profound sense of betrayal, particularly stemming from the actions of a man I once held in high regard—my father. The metaphor of being discarded like leftover food meant for pigs on a farm resonated deeply within me, amplifying the feelings of abandonment and disillusionment.
This visceral experience overwhelmed my senses, leading to an emotional eruption that manifested in a physical response; I instinctively clawed at the wall adjacent to my door, seeking an outlet for the turmoil that churned within.
The intensity of my emotions was not merely a reaction to the immediate situation but rather a culmination of the complex and often tumultuous relationship I had with my father. Each twist and turn of my feelings seemed to cascade over me like a relentless tide, leaving me grappling with a mixture of anger, sadness, and confusion.
The act of lashing out at the wall was not just a momentary lapse; it symbolized a deeper struggle to reconcile the love I once felt with the pain of betrayal that now overshadowed it.
In that moment, the room transformed into a sanctuary of my inner chaos, a space where the weight of my father's actions pressed heavily upon my heart. The emotional upheaval I experienced was not simply a fleeting moment of shock; it was a profound realization of the complexities of familial bonds and the fragility of trust.
As I stood there, the walls bore witness to my anguish, encapsulating the essence of a relationship that had irrevocably changed, leaving me to navigate the aftermath of such a profound emotional upheaval.
A gentle knock at my door interrupted my thoughts, revealing my mother entering the room with a quiet demeanour. She expressed a heartfelt desire for my longevity, stating that it was time for me to take a significant action, one that she wished to be directed towards her, as she claimed to have reached her limit with my father.
Her words were heavy with meaning, and as she embraced me, I felt a mix of confusion and concern. After she left, I lay in bed, contemplating the implications of her request and the uncertain path that lay ahead of me.
As I drifted into slumber, I found myself in a vivid dreamscape where a magnificent winged beast soared gracefully through the sky, its beauty captivating my senses. This dragon was a familiar presence in my dreams, evoking a sense of destiny as if our paths were destined to intertwine.
I watched in awe as it glided effortlessly over the shimmering water, but soon the atmosphere shifted, and the sky darkened ominously.
A chilling sensation enveloped me, rendering my bones as cold as ice. My eyes burned with discomfort, and an intense heat coursed through my body, igniting a strange hunger within me that felt both foreign and urgent.
And as I remained enveloped in slumber, the allure of unconsciousness proving far more bearable than the agony that awaited me in the waking world. When I finally pried my eyes open, an unsettling sensation washed over me, compelling me to seek solace in the water's surface.
As I approached the reflective pool, I was met with an unexpected sight: my eyes glimmered with an eerie green luminescence.
In a moment of disorientation, I inadvertently bit down on my tongue with such force that it severed, the darkness around me amplifying the shock of the injury. Blood and saliva mingled as I expelled the remnants of my tongue onto the grass, staining it crimson.
Overwhelmed by the pain, I resolved to retreat to the comfort of my bed, hoping that sleep would provide a reprieve from my suffering.
As my head sank into the pillow, I succumbed to the depths of sleep once more. In this dreamlike state, the winged beast I had encountered previously reappeared, its gaze fixed upon me with an intensity that was both captivating and comforting.
This magnificent creature, which I had glimpsed only once before, had etched itself into my memory, igniting a longing within me to possess such a being.
The it's eyes, glowing with a warm orange hue, exuded a sense of kindness and familial connection that resonated deeply within me. There was an inexplicable bond that seemed to tether us, a feeling that transcended the boundaries of mere fantasy.
But suddenly, my dream was shatter into mere dust for a peculiar sensation coursed through me, akin to the prickling of pins and needles where my tongue had once been. I jolted awake, stifling a scream as I became acutely aware of a new presence in my mouth—a snake-like tongue that flickered with an unsettling familiarity. The recollection of my mother's words from the previous nights echoed in my mind.
" eat "
I instinctively covered my mouth as the flickering serpent-like tongue emerged, momentarily paralyzing me with shock and confusion regarding the inexplicable transformation I was undergoing.
The bewilderment enveloped me, leaving me grappling with the surreal nature of my experience. However, as the haze of my memories began to clear, a chilling realization struck me: "My mother; my mother must have known something.
She must have done something to me." I recalled her cryptic references to my father as a serpent, yet I hesitated to accept that her words held any truth. This revelation only compounded my current turmoil, as I recalled her ominous assertion that "to complete the transformation, one must drink the blood of others." Her tone, once amusing to me as a child, now resonated with a sinister gravity that left me questioning the very fabric of my reality.
Although the disarray of my thoughts intensified as I struggled to comprehend the implications of her words. Everything around me seemed to unravel, and yet, amidst this chaos, I found myself unable to suppress the primal urge that surged within me—a visceral craving for blood. It was a desire that felt both foreign and familiar but yet within my moments of pure discord did a single word echo to me, a new desire for something far beyond what I could ever think.
" EAT "
As if it had been lurking beneath the surface of my consciousness, waiting for the right moment to emerge, as if the claws of the devil reached beyond the surface to pull me down bellow the hollows of my mind. This of my horror and this newfound instinct created a dissonance that was difficult to reconcile.
I was caught in a maelstrom of emotions, oscillating between fear of what I was becoming and an inexplicable allure to embrace this darker aspect of my nature.
As I stood there, grappling with the duality of my existence, I felt an overwhelming sense of isolation. The memories of my mother's teachings, once a source of comfort, now felt like chains binding me to a fate I could not escape.
The world around me faded into insignificance as I became increasingly aware of the animalistic hunger that pulsed through my veins. It was a hunger that demanded satisfaction, urging me to confront the very essence of my identity.
In that moment of clarity, I understood that I was at a crossroads, faced with the choice of either succumbing to this primal instinct or seeking a way to reclaim my humanity amidst the shadows that threatened to consume me.
For In the stillness of the night, I became acutely aware of the voices of my sisters and father engaged in conversation just beyond the darkened hallway. The atmosphere was thick with shadows, yet the intermittent flashes of a raging storm and the ethereal glow of the moon illuminated my path.
As I moved forward, I caught a fleeting glimpse of my reflection in a nearby mirror, revealing the unsettling transformation I was undergoing. The once-familiar features of my face were now marred by the haunting glow of crimson emanating from my eyes, accentuated by the faded veins that traced their way around them, a stark reminder of the entity I had become.
I found myself grappling with the disquieting realization that I had morphed into a creature of the night, a being reminiscent of the dark legends whispered in hushed tones. The questions that plagued my mind—why I possessed such a sinister voice and what had driven me to this state—seemed trivial in the face of a more pressing and primal urge.
"that's no𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝔂𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓲𝓼 it... "
This insatiable hunger, a relentless force within me, surged forth, compelling me to seek out the source of my torment. The scent of blood wafted through the air, drawing me inexorably toward the familiar figures of my family, now shrouded in an aura of danger and desire.
As I approached the threshold of the room where my loved ones gathered, the dichotomy of my existence weighed heavily upon me. The remnants of my humanity clashed violently with the feral instincts that had taken root within me, creating a tumultuous internal struggle. I was torn between the remnants of affection for my family and the overwhelming compulsion to surrender to the darkness that beckoned me.
In that moment, I stood at the precipice of a choice that would define my fate, caught between the lingering echoes of my past and the insatiable thirst for blood that threatened to consume me entirely.
Yet I stand living, questioning how did I die?, the inquiry that looms over me is the nature of my demise. As I cast my gaze downward, I noticed my father's sword lying on the ground, its blade stained with crimson, while the hilt was adorned with a striking red ruby set within a copper grip.
The realization struck me with a chilling clarity: "my father had attempted to take my life.. 𝔂𝓮𝓼 𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓲𝓭.". In that moment, my tears had long since dried, replaced by an overwhelming surge of fury. I resolved that if he wished to be treated as he treated others, then a singular course of action was necessary.
The light of the moon filtered through the doorway, illuminating the scene as my dress, tainted with the blood of a Christian, lay in ruin, a testament to the hellish nightmare that awaited me in the depths of eternity.
I had clung to my existence for far too long, and now my eyes absorbed the dark hues of despair, each shade steeped in a profound sense of anguish and hatred. It was these very emotions that had shaped my identity, forging me into the being I had become, a reflection of the torment and fury that now defined my reality.
My father appeared ghostly pale as he beheld me, and in that desolate space, he was my only companion. Seizing the sword, I locked eyes with him and uttered, dripping with sarcasm,
"Oh father, I'm really gonna miss you."
With a swift motion, the blade found its mark, piercing his flesh such a force left my once father now a blooded angel, The scene unfolded with my sisters paralyzed by a profound terror, their expressions reflecting a visceral horror as they stood motionless.
In a sudden burst of instinctual reaction, they fled down the hallway, their footsteps echoing in the tense atmosphere. At that critical moment, I plunged the blade deep into my father's chest, the act executed with a swift and deliberate motion.
Discarding the weapon with a flick of my wrist, an act that seemed to transcend the boundaries of human comprehension. and I began to drink from the wound on his wrist. As my fangs emerged, I continued to feed until he was utterly drained, the life force that once sustained him now fuelling my own insatiable hunger.
In the aftermath of that harrowing encounter, I had extinguished the life of my sisters, yet I spared my niece and mother, recognizing their innocence in the chaos that had unfolded. The walls and windows bore witness to the carnage, painted in shades of red, while I was left with an insatiable hunger and a profound sense of isolation.
- several centuries later -
For centuries, I concealed myself, becoming a whispered legend—the family killer. In the span of five hundred years, the only beings I encountered were my others like myself. Though I coexist with vampires, I maintain a demeanour that is neither harsh nor unkind; however, I remain resolute in my willingness to protect those in peril who I hold dare to me, even if it means resorting to violence.
And as the years grow longer, my quest to uncover the lineage of my father has spanned many years, driven by an insatiable curiosity about my heritage. After an extensive search, I finally stumbled upon a promising lead that revealed my father had a brother, who is the father of two children.
This discovery led me to learn about my cousins, Stefan and Damon Redgrave although with the name changed to Salvatore, who are said to reside in Mystic Falls.
Concerned for the well-being of one of my associates whom I had dispatched to gather more information in the same town, I grew increasingly anxious as he had not returned. This prompted me to take matters into my own hands and travel to Mystic Falls myself.
The urgency of my mission was palpable as I approached the residence of my newfound relatives. I felt a mix of anticipation and trepidation, knowing that this encounter could potentially reshape my understanding of family and identity.
Upon reaching the door, I knocked firmly, and it was opened by a striking man with captivating blue eyes and dark hair. His presence was both intriguing and welcoming, and he immediately recognized me, addressing me by name with a playful grin. His demeanour suggested a blend of warmth and mischief, which eased some of my apprehension as he invited me inside. "Pleasure to meet you, please come in"
As I stepped over the threshold, my curiosity intensified, and I was eager to learn more about the Redgrave family and, most importantly, to locate my missing associate.
The atmosphere within the home was charged with an unspoken history, and I sensed that this meeting could unveil not only the connections I had long sought but also the complexities of familial ties that I had yet to comprehend. With each moment spent in this new environment, I felt the weight of my journey and the significance of the relationships I was about to explore.
~ End of Chapter ~