iv.

It didn’t take long for the other visitor to abandon you, did it? You were barely together when you stepped in, and within moments Kay Lin was gone, too. I might have laughed at her hypocrisy, but that left you, which was so very sad.

You were already so bleary. I called out twice before you answered, without so much as looking back, and with so elegant a greeting:

“Great. Here for my blood?”

Ah. Of course you’d been “warned” about me, too. Yet what struck me was your lack of protest, even as I drew closer… you must have been exhausted.

I don’t remember exactly what I said, but it wasn’t much. I couldn’t blame you for your distaste—how could I, knowing who you’d met first? No, I must have been validating, saying your fears made sense.

That was all it took. Your frustrations spilled out. You needed someone to hear, and no one else was listening.

This made me very happy. I hoped you might like me more, for being there.

You told me how you’d barely wanted to go to “that stupid party” in the first place, but anyone who meant anything was going to be there, so you had to. You told me how you fell in with a smaller group, with one person you kinda-knew and a few others, and that when they found the letter they held a vote, and you were the only one who said no, even the hesitant recipient wanted to follow it, and you felt so very stupid. So you had to join, you had to, just to be there.

It seemed trivial back then. You had no idea what was at stake.

You thought you could keep them in line.

You had no idea you were going to watch not one but two companions get torn limb from limb.

Only towards the end did you acknowledge me; you mumbled something about one gone missing, that “Your friend there probably has something to do with it, and now I’m blabbing everything to you like an idiot….”

In short: you were vulnerable. And I had to take the chance.

I took your hand. (You were unsettled and pulled away. It made me sad. You looked sorry.) I told you the truth: Yes, we really are vampires, and tonight we hunger more than ever. That you, or anyone else besides the invited, are here, was never meant to be.

This place will kill you. Even if you buried us in the walls and drove stakes through our hearts, you will die here, because no mortal can withstand…

Well. I’m not sure myself. It’s a latent energy, a terrible energy, and it will drain you to the core. If I could stop it, I would.

Why do you think we’re so lonely?

---

But there’s a catch to everything, isn’t there. Here, I told you, is ours: this castle will not let you leave, as a mortal. Only a vampire can open its doors. And there’s a way to allow both this and guarantee your survival:

“Let me,” I said, “turn you.”

It was too much to process, wasn’t it? But I only wanted what was best for you. You’d come too far to never see the other end.

I didn’t want to put you on the spot. But we didn’t have much time to waste….

Even then, you didn’t run away. I thought you might see reason.

I was honest. I was good to you. I barely got to tell you everything I’d already come to admire about you, what I imagined for us in our future eternity. We’d be friends. You’d never have to worry about being out of step again, or losing a single soul, because it’d just be us, and I’d be yours, and I’m not going anywhere. Not for long. I promise.

You considered this, for a moment.

I almost had you.

And then she interrupted.

The last thing I tried to see was you.

I hope you’ll come back for me.