Her name was lost years. A creature of night that brought pestilence wherever she roamed. She’d done well at hiding her true self, the monstrosity she had become. Now, she is forced to return to where she swore she never would and try to blend in with humans before her truth is revealed.
The sun had just hardly peaked over the horizon when she returned home to her darkness. Her night had failed, now the sun was an untouchable force she would need to hide from until she became successful in her dark hours. Once she was she would soon need to travel, the curious eyes making their way towards the young girl who only appeared sometimes, on the days the bodies showed up. The bodies that seemed to start coming the moment she arrived. But, it seems, she was used to this routine. Abandoning the feigned normalcy she created to wreak havoc somewhere else.
The man from the night prior had escaped. An unusual happening for a creature of her strength and ability— but escape nonetheless he did, screaming of a beautiful monster with yellow eyes and wicked teeth. Beauty and monstrosity don’t often go hand-in-hand, but that’s the true danger of it. Her pure face, light hair and eyes that capture you the moment you look at then when they’re in their natural form. A freckled face smile with perfectly straight teeth you would never imagine ripping your flesh to the bone. A demon perhaps, inhabiting the innocence of a 17 year old girl for an eternity.
The girl had played the game well. Maintaining well on keeping her identity hidden. Taking a new name each time she’d move somewhere new, her true name being so distant to her now, she often forgot she’d ever had one at all. She’d decided she would be called Amelia this time in comparison to Anna, when she moved to her new town. Often times she kept away from the small towns. They were too nosy, too religious, too focused on prying into the lives of newcomers. But now she’d nearly run out of new places to go. So, Attiga, Virginia, would soon become her new temporary home.
She had been to Attiga, Virginia once before. In her first life when she had dreams of growing old, finding love, settling down and having children. It was, after all, a woman’s duty at one time to do all of the things she’d dreamt of. She’d been arranged to marry a wealthy banker in the year 1812 the moment she turned 18. That moment however, would never come. Her life was cut short the night she died. The night three men took something from her they shouldn’t have, leaving her on the streets of Attiga, Virginia. Her creator, a 20 year old boy by the name of Charles, found her bleeding out alone. He’d smelled her from over a mile away. He’d told her then that he smelled the life slipping away. She was going to die that night either way, die and stay dead, or die and find rebirth.
No matter how much she loathed Charles for what he did he was still her creator, a bond so strong that could never be broken. They spent nearly 30 years traveling together, referring to one another as siblings. They visited every country, danced in diamonds and fed on the flesh and blood of innocent humans at night. But 30 years has come and gone and they’d visited every place together they could. They separated then, seeing each other a few times every year. Charles watched her often in secret, desperate to protect his one and only creation. He saw how much she despises what she was and vowed to never create another again.
December 23rd, 1941, 16 days after Pearl Harbor— Charles, who was now known as Charlie, enlisted in the American Army to join the battle of the Second World War. That day would be the last time she’d see him. She knew he didn’t die in the war, he couldn’t have. There was enough blood shed to keep him fed and protected from the sun for centuries. He got bored of her perhaps, no longer cared for his creation maybe.
“I’ll see you soon,” he’d promised. “You are my sister, my child, my creation. I will never abandon you for long, Celia.” Charlie was brave in referring to her by her original name. It hadn’t been spoken since she’d been turned, and although the people who would remember had long since died, it was frightening to hear the name after so long.
Celia shook her shoulder length blonde hair over her shoulders. The hair that would never grow, if she cut it, would never grow back. “I don’t know why you must leave me. Although we’ve parted ways before you’ve always been close by. I won’t know where you are, you’ll have no way of knowing where I am.”
Charlie’s shoulders rose and fell in a chuckle as he tugged on his sack of clothes thrown over his arm. “Silly Celia. What we have is a bond so strong that I would know how to find you if you were a million miles away.” Oh how wrong it seemed he was, as she never received a single letter, and never saw him a single moment after that. There were times when she needed him, too. Times that were so dark and difficult that she thought for sure it would bring her once-protector back to her, but it never did.
Celia imagined the countless ways he could have died. After all, there aren’t many ways known to be able to kill a Vampire. She wasn’t entirely sure that’s what she was, but it was the closest she could come to through her 3 years dedicated endlessly to discovering the truth of the matter. There were some inconsistencies. Like the fact that sun could only harm her sometimes, if she hadn’t fed in so long, if the blood she fed on was not pure— she’d burst into flames if she went a week without blood. The time changes often, never entirely consistent, but a body a day seemed to keep the sun at bay.
The man who escaped from her last night was a bad man. Heinous you could say, abused his children and forced his wife to terrible acts— she’d been watching him. Celia never killed children, she preferred men, but had been desperate at times where she’s fed off of women. There’s a taste, a scent, a feeling she gets from feeding off of men that women cannot compare to. Charlie was the same way, preferring women to men. He’d gone through a dark time where he killed anything with a pulse, and as her creator who she always listened to without question, Celia did as well.
Known to history as the 1939 City of San Francisco Derailment, 24 passengers were killed and over 100 injured in the intentional sabotage of the tracks. Motiveless crime to most, it was a blood feast to Celia and Charlie. An all you can eat buffet that discriminated against no gender, race or creed. It was then Charlie realized he was out of control and Celia, poor Celia was attached to him so wickedly. He’d had a choice to make, and he’d made it soon after.
“The Police are on the look-out for a female suspect that 43 year old Richard Monks, of Chester County Pennsylvania, is claiming attacked him late Wednesday night between the hours of 10 and 11 pm. Police believe the woman to be tied to the recent murders of over 13 people here in Chester County. The victim of last night's attack said he was attacked from behind and was unable to give a description of the woman. He did however, state that he was able to distinguish her as a woman from her voice when she allegedly told him to pray for his life.”
Celia shut the Television off and threw the remote at the screen, shattering the glass. She released a frustrated shriek that sounded like something from a horror movie. She took it too far last night in speaking to that man, but she thought of his kids who cried and begged for him to stop when he beat them, and she wanted to hear him beg just like they did. Now she knew that she had to move before they zeroed in on the new girl in town. She’d never had the police so hot on her tail in all of her years of murder and survival. They’d never even had an inkling of a girl being capable of it before, but times were changing. Women weren’t looked at as weak and unable any longer. People were well aware that there were evil women out there.
Celia needed to leave but she was far too weak. Her feed from last night had failed and the sun was already beginning to burn her since it’d been 3 days since her last kill. She knew if she stepped into the sun then, she’d burst to flames and perish. It would also be much simpler. Letting the fires of the earth take her to the fires of hell, no longer surviving at the lives of others.
Tonight would be her final feed of this town, and then she’d return home to Attiga, Virginia. She was hesitant, sure, returning home. Something was drawing her there, she could feel it and she wasn’t sure of what it was.
So she packed her things in her apartment, the little she had, and waited for the sun to go down.