When I saw her strangely white but still very much human skin I almost remembered what it was like to breath, breathing that was uncontrolable. Not like myself now. The purpose to breath is to smell for blood, mostly for sport. Because I can survive years off of one tiny little human.
She reminded me of my human self, although the memory is slipping away like a puff of smoke disinigrating into the atmosphere, an almost ghostly appearance as if she was made to be something supernatural. She had a small heart shaped face with big brown eyes that had so much life in them. Her hair was thick with tiny white blonde curls. It seemed that Rondolfo had a type, for all of us had this look about us. All 27 of his what he named "followers" but the girl would refer to us as his victims as she cried out for mercy. But she was asleep, somehow peaceful although could tell nighmares were running across her eyelids. She didn't understand how it was yet. But she would. She hadn't seen Rondolfo. The most beautiful creature to exist on this planet. He had the skin of a stone statue, magnificent beauty beyond a belief. In his presence you feel like you are the luckiest person to have lived...once. His eyes, although a haunting red, they were dazzeling. The only things I ever think about is thirst and him. It was a common feeling umong us "followers". I call myself his partner. I find myself being the most important out of the 27. All of them were wishing it was them who were turned last. But it was me and I was the last and I was the longest of the last. He hadn't turned anyone for 58 years, the longest he had gone. The difference between Olive and I was only 10 years.
Rondolfo told me that he saw her and he knew she needed to be his. I hadn't been alive for quite some time but I had a feeling deep inside me, so forgotten that I didn't know what to call it. But then I saw her and it was worse. I was once in her position. There was a time when Rondolfo saw me and told Olive to go fetch me like I did with the girl who called herself Lottie. I knew I was feeling what I once called jealousy.
The girl called Lottie opened her brown eyes that would soon turn into red. I didn't say anything to her just stared. I knew I had to tell him she was awake. I had to take a moment to realize I was no longer the last one.
"Don't you know he's trancing you all? You all think you're in love with him but he's only trancing you. Please don't let this happen! You were once alive like me," she grabbed the hem of my dress. Her warm fingers gave off an extreme heat, "I am supposed to be getting married in just a day. Please!"
I felt a twinge of pity for her.
"How long has she been awake for? Why didn't you tell me?" Roldolfo's presence filled the room. I can't help but to freeze. I've been with him for 58 years but he still has the same effect on me.
The girl stood, without saying a word and walked towards Rondolfo. She seemed to be floating her hair flew behind her as each step was taken. Rondolfo brushed her face and the girl called Lottie closed her eyes and kissed his hands and then his neck. For a moment the girl's veins began to pump in my brain all I wanted was to destroy her and then it was gone.
It all happened faster then a breath. Rondolfo was there and then he was nothing but a pile of dust on the floor. Lottie's body was shaking as she held a wooden cross in her hand the end sharpened. Rondolfo was dust, just dust and nothing more to me. A moment passed and I had forgotten all about him. I looked at Lottie but her vulnerability did not suit my thirst. It was too easy.
I was released.
I gaver her a smile, letting my teeth gleam, something I wasn't allowed to do with Rondolfo.
"How kind of you," I smirked.
It was my turn.
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