Behind a curtain of pitch black tresses, scarlet-hued eyes gleamed in the moonlight. The nighttime light flooded generously into the area, giving visibility to the horrific scene. The owner of that demonic stare lifted himself from his kneeling position, still feeling the sensation of the stone alleyway against his skin. His cold eyes returned to the lifeless form beside him. It had once sheltered the wounded spirit of a beautiful female youth; now only a carrier of her tainted blood and lost future. The bittersweet taste of her crimson life remained on his tongue and laced his teeth. Disappointment lay in his eyes and bent the corners of his pale lips downward slightly. The woman-child’s body lay limply on the warmth less earth, he deep brown hair plastered to her milky complexion by the stagnant flow from each of her wounds. Each gash was strategically placed over a main vein and travelled into her to grasp her arteries. Vibrant oceanic eyes were shut, but still seeing into the moonlit world. “Alyx Tirsa, did you truly wish for death?” The man’s eyelids heavied, his tongue glided over the two pointed teeth that aided his sin. Nostalgia remained in its taste, sending his mind to remember her once living form; when she beckoned him to end her existence.

There was a sort of determination that resided in her eyes, albeit the underlying reason had not turned up in their brief conversation. All that was revealed to the man was that she wanted death, nothing else. The chilling caress of wind’s whisper graced his nearly white cheek, tearing him back to the present. He killed her simply by her request. He was able to do it problem less due to his lineage. It was not difficult to do the thing most humans could not. His attention was torn back to his hand, the colour of the woman’s life draped over its crevices, spanning from the talon-esque features to the curved details of his palm. Closing his strong fingers into a loose fist, his scarlet orbs fell upon the fallen woman-child, studying her most intricate details. The no longer expanding pool of blood beneath her corpse formed the shaped of two feathered wings; the blood darkened to a nearly black hue. She had shared the same curse as he, the eternal sin of being a creation of the night- a vampire. “The one who has ended you,” a pause fell between his words, suffocating the silence. He felt somewhat obligated to inform her his name so she knew who to acknowledge. “His name is Emrys.” The man stated strongly under his breath as he turned his back to her and faded into the elapsing shadow of the stone structures surrounding the forgotten night.