- it's dark here. so, so dark.
"imelda." his word, a command. her feet drifted without thought, without grace. too long she'd let her weary bones win. the swan's step she'd once glided through the halls had faded like the sunstained drapes, encasing his world. her world.
prosper reclined on the largest of the room's three sofas, his still-shoed feet resting daintily on the beautiful coffee table, ribboned with colors and wrapped in a sheet of magnificent gold. his gaze was distant, off toward the covered window. he'd been gone for nearly a week, and she could see it in him. graying. fading. his expression had soured, a deeper concern digging into his pale features. but imelda dared not ask. it was not her place.
"lord hudson," she acknowledged him, a slight and clumsy curtsy alongside. she wondered if he cared anymore. surely, he saw it too. fading. both of them.
his hand whisked her closer, and she pulled her hair away, sitting beside him still upright - the last semblance of etiquette her heart could bear.
finally, his eyes turned to her, expression unchanged.
"here."
she leaned closer, heart still pounding after all these years. he leaned in, fangs shimmering weakly in the candlelight. her eyes pressed closed as the vampire began to feed.
ancient eyes met her own, and she stared, expressionless. how many years had it been? hollow, empty, faded. drained. the rich antique mirror could do nothing for the dreadful countenance that stared back, riveting her to the spot. how old was she? the face staring back was not her own. it couldn't be.
once, what felt like now so long ago, she'd been beautiful. she'd looked up at the dull, graying skies and seen the ring of light where sunlight still battled for power. she'd wanted it so badly, to feel its warmth against her skin. daytime was her sanctuary, freedom, where even the stagnant air couldn't contain her.
and every night, her mother would lock her away. no windows. no comfort.
"safe," she promised her daughter. "this, here, is safe."
"it's so dark," she remembered calling out, tiny hands grasping for her mother's tenderness.
it's so dark
an icy tear glittered at the edge of her sunken eye, seeping into the gaping circles below and dissipating along the premature wrinkles dashing her cheeks.
death. she was looking at her own death.
a sickened sob wracked her throat, and she let out a wail. falling to her knees, she felt her body shaking out of her own control. she was too weak now. too weak to stand, to fight. to live. soon, she wouldn't awaken in the plush cushions of her private bedroom. soon, the mirror would have no reflection to stare back. she was wasting, withering. fading. lord, she was fading fast.
would she ever forget?
the pounding at the door, her mother's sobs. the night she was taken.
lord prosper hudson, the overseer of their small village, had chosen her. heard whispers, it seemed. rumors. her mother's pleas cast aside. her lies couldn't hide the beauty she'd stashed away.
he hadn't killed her. she could never understand why, but perhaps it was worse this way. to know that her mother still lived, that her daughter was dying under his keep. perhaps it was worse. if she had nothing to go home to, what could he sap? certainly not hope. not the life, the beauty, she'd once contained.
that was all she knew of vampires. deadly, and cruel. taking beauty and turning it to rot. slowly, she was dying. he would call again. there was nothing she could do anymore. she was too weak, in body and soul. each night, she collapsed with closed eyes that couldn't shake the reflection. hollow, empty, dying. her own face, if it could be so. drained, weary, dying. she was dying.
his voice was soft, almost caressing. for an instant, for a godforsaken instant she always wondered if he saw. wondered if he would spare her. but that was the cruelty of it. a soothing voice, a handsome face - as the monster called her name.
"imelda."
