Failure
The vampiress’ jaw was set. There was silence on the line while she considered her options. “As soon as I feel up to it, I’ll sever him.”
“You two really are ill-suited,” the raven-haired vampiress said matter-of-factly.
“Not at first,” she lamented reminiscently. In her heart of hearts, she knew that time was long past.
“Let him go,” continued the vampiress on the other end.
Let him go. The words resonated in her mind. Let him go. And so she would. “It’s gone on long enough,” affirmed the vampiress. There was a finality to her statement.
“If he does love you, he’ll come back–and maybe with more respect,” the ancient added, perhaps in an attempt to hearten her.
But she could see through the thin veil of reassurance. She shook her head, though the other vampiress couldn’t see her. “He doesn’t love me, and I know it.”
“Then let him go,” the more seasoned vampiress repeated, “and find someone else who will.”
Nothing but static passed between them as the Galway girl Teleported to the Hall of Severance.
“I don’t think he really wants you to,” reasoned the vampiress with the exotic eyes.
“He’s said time and time again he wants me to sever him,” said the vampiress standing just outside the grand albeit ominous building.
“He wants your attention–”
“He always has it!” she interjected, her anger flaring.
“He’s not doing it the right way,” the other vampiress offered. This much was obvious.
“He’s my pride and joy,” started the siress. “And my pain.” Suddenly, she felt his presence as he Succoured to her for what would be the final time. He sauntered into the Hall of Severance with a smirk playing up his lips. “My immense pain,” she said again.
And then the pain was no more.
Your link with Rex Le Rouge has been severed.
Dazed, she was aware of nothing but the cold environs enveloping her as she passed through the doors into the night, leaving her once-childer dancing joyously behind her. She wandered thoughtlessly down the streets of RavenBlack City, allowing her legs to lead her blindly forward.
Yet she had a destination etched in her subconscious; and somehow, before long, she reached the iron gate at the corner of Emerald and 85th.
She pushed the gate slightly and it swung open as if she had used all her might. One of the gate’s hinges, rusted from the elements, disintegrated with the sudden force; and she, too, felt a part of herself become unhinged.
“Dream, and it shall be,” an unknown voice beckoned.
As she entered the garden, the vampiress heard the words, whispers on the wind, and whipped around. She was alone.
“Dream, and it shall be,” the unknown voice said again.
Veering off the path, she sank to her knees, the reality of the situation hitting her like a vial of Holy Water. Bloody tears stained the perfect yellow dandelions growing in Annabelle’s Paradise.
She had failed.
Eyes as green as the leaves watched her descent.
“It’s what he wanted, after all,” said the vampiress with the striking hazel eyes from which streaks of blood trailed over her high cheekbones and down her rose-tinted cheeks before dripping onto the carpet of yellow petals. “I thought it was spite. But he hates me,” she told the dandelions. “He never loved me.”
She recognized the vampiress knelt amongst the dandelions. Tapping into the vampiress’ thoughts, she waded through infinite images until she caught the sight of an image in the far reaches of the elder’s mind: a repressed image of a vampire dancing, his lips stretched into a smile as his steps reverberated through the hall. She extricated herself from the vampiress’ thoughts; she had seen enough.
And the copper-haired vampiress watched the Galway girl rock back and forth in the field of bloodied dandelions, teetering on the edge of sanity.
Gallagher
The Galway Girl
with
MavericksChild af Gyllenstierna
and
Frozen Nova
