ROOT ROT

possessed!scholar husband x reader |18+| 3.4k

following your husband's return from his deceased uncle's estate, he has not been the same man. you confide in your husband's best friend and colleague on the matter of these eccentricities, only for him to resurface a depraved recent past.

story warnings; dead dove do not eat, explicit sexual content, major dubcon, sort of coercion, implied double penetration, mentioned voyeurism, cumshot on stomach, cum eating, graphic + horrific details, unrequited love (ox to reader), smoking, drinking, heavy prose + detail, roughly proofread.

reposted from my old blog: theoxenfree

this is a concept piece and follow up to imposter. you don't have to read it, but it definitely helps for understanding!!

please leave feedback + reblog, it would mean a lot!!

“He is simply not himself!”

Bartolomé Medina knew his best friend better than you knew your husband, so you believed him when he said that your husband’s newly acquired, increasing eccentricities were not some fictitious imagining of yours.

Although, Medina himself could not explain the unexplainable and all of the oddness without growing visibly flustered. A bit flushed in the face, singeing the roundness of his ears. He'd stamp out your justifications for strangeness in the same way he did the fine cigars he'd been accustomed to sharing with his friend, yet had not for quite sometime now.

“And you say his garden is dead?” Medina looked stricken with dread, suddenly ill by repeating something so blasphemous. “Now, my dear, please don't mistake my shock as disbelief. I very much believe in what you're saying. I've seen Solomon and his weirdness! Why, just this morning over breakfast, at a time where you were still tucked away in deep sleep, he wouldn't drink his coffee. So bizarre! That man knows the thousands of tastes and varieties of coffee beans, and he spat the very stuff out on the floor like it'd never once touched his tongue!

“But his garden? A botanist without his garden is like a bird without wings. A dog without a tail to wag. A newborn without his mother’s teat! Vulgar, I understand, but you see my point.” He drank from a heavy glass in his hand. The inside had nearly spilled over at one point with light brown which glittered gold under the overhead light, smelling slightly sour and earthy. “To think that Solomon would let it all die. Something is wrong. Something has happened to my only true friend and to your husband.”

You did not drink with any enthusiasm or anguish from your own cup, rather you used those seconds of delicate sipping to gap the conversation, separate yourself from it all for just a moment. You'd had your time to grieve and contend with knowing the man you had married and come to love was not the same one who kept you awake at night.

Solomon had once been a reclusive and reticent man, the only son of David Agrippa and sole heir of the Agrippa Diamond Mines and Jewelry Galleria. He'd never been able to replicate his father's ardor for business and entrepreneurship, choosing towards academic ventures of entomology and botany and most of everything belonging to the natural world instead.

Among his most prized things was a sprawling, domed greenhouse made of large sheets of pale blue-green glass soldered with metal which shifted rose-gold in bright daylight.

“I loved his garden, but I didn't much like to be in there with him,” you confessed, forgetting your manners as you kept your cup still against your lips, mumbling your words. “He liked to tell me about the plants and flowers he grew. Most of it I could never hope to understand, but… I loved seeing him come alive. He seemed to glow when he could tell me things, so I got into the habit of listening to him when he wanted to speak.”

Medina, not yet drunk or driven to any untoward behavior, set aside his empty vessel with jittering ice cubes and looked at you admiringly. “You said that you didn't like being in there with him? Why?”

“The bees. The bugs. The humidity. The fertilizer he liked to use because of the nitrogen content. He told me that it mattered what he used and couldn't just break up soil from the yard.” You said, tilting your cup.

After taking another sip, you determined you hated the taste of the liquor and how it slid down along your throat like fire trailing an oil spill, yet clung there with residual, syrupy stickiness that nearly made you gag.

“Why did you keep going inside?” Medina asked tranquilly, much of his previous frustration softened, body and soul warmed by the alcohol and how fondly he regarded your sweetness towards his friend.

You thought very little before answering, “I wanted to be where he was. It didn't matter to me if that meant his greenhouse or the coldest part of the arctic.”

That was the truth of it. Once you'd received the first crumbs of understanding who Solomon truly was beneath his stolid exterior built brick-by-brick from tragedy and grief and a lifetime of emotional ineptitude, you would've gone to any length to see more of him. To see his pale eyes gain a wild, flickering candlelight of passion, and the faintest of trembling smiles disguising how deeply your questions had aroused his soul.

In those moments, he revealed to you the things he loved the most and what you envied the most: the natural world.

The flittering, fat-bodied pollinators whose entire world were yellow and red flowers with succulent centers and lush, girthy leaves where they'd rest their weary, iridescent wings and could never understand your husband's appreciation of them.

The thousands of specimens he'd collected from every corner of the world and articulated thoughtfully against wood and felt. Their dead little limbs were pinned in place; perfect mimicry of how they would've been if still alive and crawling. He’d had them all meticulously framed and arranged across the walls in his office; trophies of his success, of his studies and hard work.

The innumerable plants and flowers he trimmed and watered in his greenhouse and the ones not contained within it. Some species he had planted in the yard, others in the cool shade of the nearby woods where they smothered native varieties with tendrils-like vines and climbed upside trees. More aquatic species were placed by the edge of the lake, growing into the water; buoyant; a woman's deep dark hair reaching forever for the surface.

He had turned the lonely, sprawling estate into a monument of life, of love that did not belong to you. And for that, sometimes you hated living there. Hated the things that he loved.

Choking the plants, poisoning their roots with any number of things from your father’s pharmacy crossed your mind more than once.

Feeding the bees something enticingly sweet and deadly; filling the greenhouse with noxious gas at night while they slept on their big leaves and your husband in his bed. It would've been such an easy thing for you to do—own your husband's grief as you held his face in your hands and comforted him in the morning when all had atrophied and rotted.

But, those feelings had become a reality you truly never wished to have seen after Solomon returned from his deceased uncle's estate months ago.

He was not the same man.

“Tell me what happened.” Medina’s voice buzzed in your ear from nearby, closer than it had been before. Your hand was caressed by tight warmth—his holding yours, his handsome face looking up at you from where he had crouched in front of your chair. “Tell me everything you've seen. It's of grave importance that you remember it all, as curing Solomon from his affliction relies solely upon you.”

You could not deny his earnestness, the squeeze of his fingers. A promise that he would not be easily shattered by what you had to say, and would think no less of his friend for it. Within his sincere stare, you saw the gleam of another, secret promise. The likes of which you pretended not to see, that he'd never speak of out loud.

“I…” you distracted yourself with the embroidery on your clothes, pinching loose threads and beads. “It was subtle, at first. I noticed some of the bees were dead on the ground. And then some plants had started developing spots. Leaves turned brown and yellow and fell off. A lot of them withered, even though their soil was still damp when I checked…”

And then, the morning came where you witnessed Solomon among a carnage of broken stalks weeping foul-smelling sap, leaves he'd ripped apart with his own hands, and some of his larger flowering plants with fiery manes completely severed. Their bountiful heads lay at his feet, flattened by the heel of his boot as he walked aimlessly, snipping and tearing indiscriminately.

“My god, Solomon! Stop!” you stepped around the countless tiny, contracted bodies of bees and other pollinators to reach him. He let go of the gardening shears as you grabbed them. “What are you doing?! What have you done?! Decades of work! Gone! Are you mad?!”

“Well, you've gone and ruined my surprise for you. I've been working on it for hours. I didn't expect you would be awake so soon.” Solomon said, sounding much like himself despite the savagery he stood surrounded by. He smiled at you in an unfamiliar way, as if trying to navigate his facial muscles around a mask. “Isn't it simply wonderful?”

The sweltering humidity trapped within this greenhouse of death had turned the air stagnant and foul, heavily pungent of detritus and mildew. Across all zones of the greenhouse, once painstakingly organized and labeled for the purpose of easier cataloging, no slithers of greenery or color remained. Each step you took in any direction seemed to sink you deeper into the decay, wet gurgling underfoot as you crossed stumpy mounds of plants and flowers he'd destroyed and thrown into piles.

“How could you? My husband spent almost twenty years building this garden and studying it. This was his life’s work!” You wished you could force life back into the severed plants; pray that the ground of yellow-brown waste would suddenly freckle with tiny, green sprouts and grow with thick stalks and thorns to keep his hands away.

“I am your husband.” Solomon took the gardening shears from your hand and tossed them aside. He leaned into your body, nose and lips pressed into the fabric covering your neck. “I've only done what you wanted. What you wished you could've done yourself, but never did.”

You flinched against the movement of his hands smoothing down your waist to the notches in your hips. Sliding inward, he unfastened the hook-and-loops and buttons holding your trousers up to push them down your thighs along with your undergarments.

“I know your thoughts and what you really think. I've been listening the entire time. I've always been listening.” Solomon let his hips roll along the back of his hand while he used his fingers to lay long, languid strokes on you. “It was tiring, wasn't it? Always competing for love and affection in a place like this. You were never going to have what you wanted. Not with this place still standing. Not with his ineptitudes and selfishness.”

His touch weakened you indescribably; like the caress of heat from the fireplace against your bare skin once the opium had taken effect. Swapping tiny pills on wet tongues with your maid until they'd dissolved into saliva and into your cheeks. You explored one another's bodies thoroughly on those cold nights, silky with sweat from the fire and exertion.

Yet, this was not the same as back then when the sexual appetite of two teenagers transcended societal morals.

Solomon encompassed you in a feeling; consumed you without ever digging into you with his teeth or nails. He could whisper hideous secrets and depravities to you to tip you over into searing euphoria. He had once penetrated you with a hot metal phallus resting on top of his own, thrusting with both until the metal cooled, and you still came anyway.

He'd put worse inside your body and done far worse than that in only a few short months since returning home, yet he never tired of the torture and you remained malleable and enthralled by it all.

“God, you are so beautiful. And you are mine.” Solomon had maneuvered both your bodies to the ground, atop of the soggy detritus. Your back was exposed to the mush, leaves, and crushed flower petals, weight pushing an indentation in the loose soil. “This is the fruition of your desires, darling. Don't you love it? Destroying what he loved so you could have it all?”

The one who came back to you was not Solomon; the one fucking you into waste and dirt was not Solomon, either. You told yourself you needed to love imposter as well, because he looked like your husband; wore his signet ring, too.

At night, you imagined only his softest expressions behind clenched eyelids when he wanted to have his way with you, as something else entirely took his place. A creature so diabolical and unsightly that the servants now awaited your screams to rouse them awake in the murky midnight hours.

Every time they arrived with their candlesticks and oil lanterns, the thrusting spectre receded into the dark as a black mass hardly distinguishable from shadow.

Only Solomon would remain, and he was swift to send the servants away before they could see your improper, disheveled state sprawled across the bed sheets.

In the daytime light, his face stayed familiar and comforting to you and you could bear to see him, form some coherent words.

“Someone might—might see us out here, Solomon. Mr. Medina is supposed to—oh, oh, mmm—he’s due to arrive at any time.” You were given several long kisses, which turned into severe caresses of hot breath when his thrusts turned savage, cock reaching so deep you were starting to feel numb below the waist. A feverous response. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

He adjusted himself to lay on your chest, the sweat on your bodies offering an effortless glide and new angle for his cock that made your moans deeper and dire. Such sounds, whether in agony or pleasure, were melodious to him. Addicting drags from a pipe in an opium den; an alcoholic's first sip at breakfast; a cheating man's night with a new lover.

“Wouldn't you like for them to see that? For someone to witness you being fucked into the ground? Surrounded by everything their master loved?” Solomon tucked his face into the curve of your neck and groaned, hips slow and stuttering. “Bartolomé would be the one to find it most tantalizing. His only friend in the world ruining the only person he's ever loved. Wouldn't that be a sight? We could invite him to watch.”

At the time, it had been quite jarring to learn Bartolomé harbored those silent, ardent feelings for you. It had sufficiently pulled you from whatever trance Solomon had lulled you into, reacquainting you with all the sounds of sex and the filth clinging to your skin. It was as though your mind had been locked into a mostly airless, noiseless void that he controlled and released at will.

You held tight to his shoulders as he molded you deeper into the muck and plant litter. The squat, friable walls of soil holding your shape like the cushions in a tomb, whereas Solomon was the man lowering you into the dark earth; the last to see your face before covering it in clay and dirt.

He was in your ear with loud moans that resonated through you, simultaneously as carnal as a beast amidst its seasonal rut, and velvety as the feathery smooth glide of fingers down your spine. His throat rumbled against you, resembling the intensity of a purring housecat nestled near your head in contentment.

At his tipping point, he removed his cock from your body and used the slippery stuff glistening off it to stroke himself; weepy, deep red tip to the base. You received the aftermath of his release in thick ropes across your abdomen and chest, the warmth of it already cooling on your skin while he continuously kneaded the head to force out what remained as if they were dewdrops made from pearls.

“How do you think Bartolomé would fare seeing you like this?” Solomon swept two fingers through the cum in an elegant curl to smear it around his cock. The viscous white thinned into pale gloss on his girth and a sticky residue inside his hand.

Your lips parted to give an answer, but his fingers and taste were faster than your words.

“And… that is all? Truly?” Bartolomé asked, shattering your visions of the recent past as he revealed a compact silver case from inside his vest, pulling a cigarette from within it. “You simply walked into the garden one morning and saw that he had destroyed everything? He gave you no explanation whatsoever?”

The imposter had stolen much of your dignity over the months, but enough of it remained for you to omit every significant detail from your story. You'd only told him that Solomon had cut the heads off of rare flowers, mumbled in a disorienting way, and gave you no difficulty with the gardening shears.

Bartolomé went away from your side for an open window across the spacious sitting room, matching his cigarette and blowing gray plumes out into the dense summer air.

“This is concerning.” He spoke loud enough for you to hear, even with his thumbnail tracing the underside of his lower lip, muffling him somewhat. “Solomon is considerably worse off than I first thought. We need to investigate this, retrace his every step since the moment he left you that night for his uncle's estate.”

“Oh, Bartolomé, that will be very unnecessary.” Solomon announced himself as he walked in through the open doors, offering you a tepid smile, which came nowhere close to reaching his eyes. Your chair jostled slightly as he stood behind it, a weighty hand landing on the tall back above your head. “Why trouble yourself with employing some ludicrous scheme when you could, ah, inquire as to what haunts you instead?”

Bartolomé tamped out his cigarette on the windowsill and pocketed it. “You are ill, Solomon. You may be suffering from some form of hysteria. It's time you visited a doctor, my old friend.”

“Well, that just isn't true.” Solomon kept the neutrality in his tone, but you tracked a rumble of agitation; a warning not far off. His hand followed the curvature of the chair down to the arm that you leaned against, fingers touching your shoulder, lightly kneading you through your clothes.

He was sure to be in Bartolomé’s eyesight as he did this, further aggravating the heavy disquiet. You didn't dare to move out of reach of his touch.

“But, it is true, Solomon!” Bartolomé insisted, gesturing toward the window. “What of your garden? All of your life's work now means nothing, you damned fool! You've snapped, old boy. See a doctor before you do something you regret.”

“That garden was more a source of misery than it was a boon. At any rate, I'm quite finished listening to you harp at me for one night, my dear friend.” Solomon lightly stroked down your cheek with bent fingers, coaxing you to look up at him. “It's time for bed, darling. Us impropertious brutes have kept you up for too long.”

You hesitated, and then stood when Solomon took your arm. “Alright.”

“As usual, your accommodations should exceed expectations. I'll have a servant wake you for breakfast again tomorrow.” It was too soon to call those Solomon's departing words to Bartolomé, as he stopped with you in the doorway, your hand caressing the meat of his forearm. “You know, Bartolomé, I would recommend marrying soon. There is no greater feeling than having the one you love so close to you, don't you think?”

Bartolomé became unreadable as he fished a hand into his vest pocket for the cigarette case again. You were led away for the bedroom before anything else could be said, but you knew that Solomon had struck a nerve.

“That was cruel.” you said.

Once in the bedroom, your back was pressed flush to the door while he unfastened the buttons to your outerwear and the blouse underneath it. Solomon kissed your lips slowly, first, before moving underside your jaw after shucking you down to your undergarments.

“And you are mine. You made your vows to me. Remember that, my sweet.”

You watched him strip out of his clothes and then stroke the length of his cock until it was hard.

“I married someone else. Not you.”

As he dimmed the lights within the space, sweeping the bedroom under a shroud of near pitch black, your annoyance shifted into a swell of anxiety both freezing cold and burning hot. Your body pulsed in rhythm with your wild heartbeat, throat clenched as tightly as infantile flower buds.

You waited for Solomon to touch you, startling once he finally did. His fingers had elongated and sharpened, his touch now far more delicate and methodical.

“Don't worry, he’s still in here with me.”

Alcide the Vampire

Vampires in space is basically the theme of this story. Well, not really, but that seems eye catching. A young, mortal, woman is the charge of a vampire royal whose ship is on the way back to the vampire planet. She is unsure if she is kept for love or duty, and her vampire master seems extremely dependent on her presence.

(TW: blood, dark romance)

Female Reader x Male Monster

I wish I was like the others. This thought comes to me as I stare out towards the foot of my bed. I would like to dream forever as the others do, to sleep perchance to wake. I remove myself from bed, setting my feet down upon the cold floor. There are no windows to speak of here, but they place curtains upon the wall as if to mimic one.

I am not alone long, I am never alone long. My attendants are many, but they are more like guards. They assure I look my best, that I stay in place, that I am never too far from my family. Not that Alicde would let me stray anyways. He needs me, and I need him as well.

To dream forever, I think as they dress me. To lie in one place, resting, unconscious, unaware. They do not know what goes on around them. The others. Nowhere and yet everywhere. Meanwhile, I am everywhere but nowhere.

“There we are, princess.” Lady Renata whispers to me as she finishes putting on the cuffs around my wrists. She smoothes down my shirt then reaches up and does the same to my long hair. She gives me a look, her nearly hollow eyes stare just a bit too long for my taste.

Then a smile crosses her lips and she nods to me. “You are ready.”

Lady Renata has coal black eyes that make her head appear empty. Her orange red hair can be seen from a great distance, which I suppose could be for my benefit if I needed her. She is small and petite as well, perhaps her hair serves as a warning. Because there is no sense to be fooled by her dainty appearance, Lady Renata is the most vicious of my family’s members.

“Thank you,” I say to her. I look at my hand, noticing a chip in the nail polish.

“Did you rest well, princess?” Lady Renata caught me staring at my hands and I tucked them away behind the folds of my dress.

I nodded, turning away from her. “I did.” The other attendants scurried from the room, filing away where they will not be seen until they are needed to be seen.

Renata reached out, touching my hair then slipped her fingers along the nape of my neck. I brushed her away, giving her a scolding look. I went over to my vanity, the mirror was covered by a curtain. I reached into the drawers, taking out my jewelry, my choker, my lipstick.

Her hand recoiled and she sniffed the blade of her fingers. “Master is waiting on you, princess.”

“I know who waits,” I mumbled. I put the choker around my neck then touched the dark jewel that rested upon my throat. “Your master does not mind waiting for me.”

Renata sighed, tilting her head to the side. “You are beautiful as it is.”

“Thank you, Renata.” I put on the lipstick, dabbing and wiping at the bow, then smoothing out under the bottom lip with my thumb.

“Look at me.” Renata came to my side and held my chin in her hand. Her finger delicately cleaned up the edges of my lips, and her dour pout turned into a soft smile. “There. Perfect.”

I fidgeted in my seat. “If I could just use the mirror, you wouldn’t have to bother.”

Renata’s eyes flashed towards the covered mirror. “You know we cannot do that. The head of the family would have my head if they knew we allowed this with us.”

“But it’s mine,” I insisted.

She nodded, taking my hand to make me stand. “Come now, Master is waiting. You know he cannot start his day without you.”

To Renata, he is master, but to me he is simply Alci. Very few people come above me here, not until we reach the familial home and then the head and their parts stand above all of us here. Alcide is one of those parts, but a lower one. He takes care of the livestock, the farm, and he travels far and wide because of it. The vast emptiness of space has known his presence in several far corners.

His chambers are closed as we approach, but the doors crack open slightly. As always, he is inspecting me. Renata pushed me ahead, making me walk through the open door which closed behind me.

“There’s my girl.” His voice caused the hairs on the back of my neck to prickle. It is a strange sensation, both alluring and frightening. I walk further into his cold room and lights flicker on to show him sitting bent over his desk.

“Have you not rested?” I asked.

“I do not remember what that is,” he sighs dramatically. “Everything bleeds together into one giant, cacophonous void that lack meaning and-”

“Alci,” I said, cutting off his trail. I approached him, coming to stand by his desk. “Enough of that.”

He released a breath and lifted his head from the desk. His hair is disheveled and messy, dyed dark in color, but the pure white near the scalp is showing through.

I ran my fingers through his hair, a touch he instinctively pushed towards. “You had an appointment with Mewsette yesterday. What happened?”

“What is the point? We dye our hair all these colors, and for what? To be reminded that we are pale! We are devoid of blood and pigment!”

I rolled my eyes, but I knew too well how these moods affected Alcide. “You are as you are. Same as us all.” I took hold of his hand, touching the ring that matched the gem on my choker.

“Not like you,” he breathed. “You are capable of what I am not. You are everything I wish that I was.” His large hand escaped my grasp and touched the top of my head, sliding down to cup my cheek. “You may be as pale as I am. You may have the same white hair. But you have everything I want.”

“No,” I said simply.

Alcide pulled away and slumped over his desk again with a mournful sigh.

“You lied to me yesterday when you said you had rested. I do not like what you turn into when you do not rest.” I motioned towards his bed with one hand while grabbing his broad shoulder with the other. “Get up and go to bed.”

“Out here there is no reason to rest. No sign. No moon. No tell tale sign of when we begin and end. Endless. Meaningless,” he bemoaned.

“Alci,” I cooed to him. “You still must rest. You may be eternal, but you are still made of flesh and bone.”

“Am I?” he looked up at me with those dark red eyes. “Who am I, Nessa?”

It is rare when I am called by name, so I relish it when it is said. “You are Alcide Von Helena. Part of the Core, a member of the family. You take care of feeding the family. Of growing the farm.” I smoothed my hand up the back of his neck. “You are dramatic and brooding. You read too much tragic literature, which adds to your somewhat grim personality.” I gave him a rare smile. “You are the master of this tomb ship. You are my caregiver.”

He looked at me with watery eyes. “Surface level. But you know what I want to hear, Nessa.” He turned to me in his seat, taking hold of my hands, comparing how large his were to mine. My hands fit in the center of his palm, and his overly long, spidery fingers could easily envelop them twice if the joints allowed it.

“Do not get me wrong. I hear your words. I see what you are trying to do.” He clasped my hands between his and pressed them against his forehead. “But I simply cannot feel much more.”

I brushed aside my hair and gave him an indigent sniff. “That is because you need to sleep. You’ll change if you do not.” I tried to urge him to the bed. I wanted to join him, to lay there and pretend I was like the others. I wanted to dream, for hours, for days unend. I could do that if Alcide would just rest. But the door opened a crack and Renata’s bright hair could be seen from it.

“I will try for your sake,” Alcide murmured. “But I have too much work to do now as it is. Duty calls, as it were.”

I was stunned. I touched the cuff around my wrist but Renata got to me before I could say anything else to him. She took me out of the room, keeping her hand upon my back until we reached the end of the hall.

“Where would you like to go today, princess?” Renata asked.

I shook my head, grimacing as my usual meeting with Alcide did not go well. I scoffed, trying to walk away but she kept pace with me, slinking up beside me and then in front of me to stop me in my tracks.

I halted, glaring up at her as I thrust my arms down by my sides.

“Where would you like to go today, princess?” Renata repeated with venom upon her tongue.

“I want to see the animals,” I stated.

Renata shook her head. “You know I can’t let you go there, princess. The master would have my head.” She leaned in closer to me, placing her hands upon my waist. “Unless-” she sniffed my hair then slowly leaned in closer until her lips fluttered against my cheek.

I pushed against her shoulders. “No,” I commanded.

She stepped away immediately, her lips flushed and mouth cracking at the corners, revealing the fine line leading towards her ears. “Then no animals today.”

I scowled up at her as the tingling in my cheeks subsided. “Then take me to Mewsette,” I scoffed. “I want a change.”

Renata smirked. “Bold. You’ve not touched your hair since you were given to the master.” She nodded and flourished her arm out down the other hall. “Mewsette is this way.”

The long dark corridors of the ship were these endless tunnels lined with doors and antique artwork. Sometimes the attendants popped out and stood still as we passed by, their eyes following us until we could no longer be seen.

“What prompted this?” Renata asked, her dark eyes peering up at me. “I figured you’d let your hair grow forever.”

I remained quiet.

“Not going to say anything to me since I won’t let you see the animals?” She quipped. “That’s fine. I’m sure Mewsette will get an answer from you.”

I exhaled through my nose and kept my neck stiff.

Mewsette was at the farthest end of the ship from where I usually was. A journey to be had, for certain, but a worthwhile one for those who needed her services.

There was a chemical whiff to the air as we approached her quarters, one that I occasionally got from Renata, sometimes Alci. Inside her chambers was a dark pink motif, the floors were pink marble, and the chairs were shiny pink. Mewsette herself looked like a decorated cake, beautiful and sweet.

“Renata, you aren’t due,” Mewsette’s voice was surprisingly deep for her appearance. Her red eyes then looked at me and her painted lips spread into a smile. “Princess! This is a surprise.”

“She wants to see you,” Renata said.

Mewsette clicked her tongue and approached us. “You’ve never come to my salon before.” She reached out, longer fingers tipped in sharp, pink nails ran through my hair and tickled my scalp. “What brought about this decision?”

“That’s what I am hoping you can get out of her,” Renata said with a smirk.

Mewsette trailed her fingers through my long hair until she came to the ends. “I am glad you are here. These split ends certainly aren’t doing you any favors.” She smiled at me; her nose was slightly too big, but I liked that about her features. She was beautiful regardless.

“This way now, this way.” She tapped her foot upon the floor in a certain code and before us the floor opened up where a chair rose from underneath.

“I’ll wait outside,” Renata said as Mewsette made me sit.

Mewsette was quiet until Renata left and then she sighed. “She is beautiful, but she frightens me. How do you stand her all day?”

“One word and Alcide would send her away,” I replied. “That’s how I tolerate Renata on a daily basis.”

Mewsette’s smirk was an entertained one. “That’s too much power for a lady like you.” She eased me back in the chair, pulling out my hair until it draped down the back. She stood behind me, fanning out my long hair and studying the ends. She tapped her foot again and a marble basin rose from the floor behind me. I heard water flowing and Mewsette adjusted me more until my head rested in that warm water.

“A wash to start us off.” Mewsette’s sharp nails felt good against my skin. “Alcide didn’t come yesterday.”

“He’s in his mood,” I replied, closing my eyes to relax, to pretend to dream.

Mewsette hesitated. “Oh-”

“I know,” I murmured. “I will make him sleep though.”

She sighed, shaking her head as she lathered shampoo between her palms. “Ever since he was young, this mood has cursed him.”

I opened my eyes. “You knew Alcide that long ago?”

Mewsette just smiled. “I used to be a part, you know?”

“No,” I gasped.

She winked at me. “Just shows you that you should come back and see me more often.” She then reached down, wiping a smudge of my lipstick away. Her eyes lingered upon my throat. “That jewel-”

I tapped it with my fingertips. “Alcide gave it to me.”

She nodded. “No. I know that. He has one on a ring. They used to be his mother’s earrings.”

I held in my breath, keeping it so everything felt tight and stretched. I looked back towards her, grateful she wasn’t looking directly at me, but instead still at my throat. “I didn’t know that.”

Her eyes cut away, giving me a look before focusing her attention back upon my hair. “Your hair really is lovely. That pure white. I see it all the time, but yours is so much fuller.”

“Is it?” I was grateful she changed the conversation away from jewelry.

Mewsette added something else to my hair, something that smelled like fragrant perfume and made her fingers slick through much easier than the shampoo. “What did you have in mind for today?”

My eyes focused up towards the ceiling, where the tiles glittered in between from all the computer pieces and wires. The fogged glass hid layers upon layers of technology that kept the ship running and operating the way it was supposed to. Each wire connected to each other, to something else, to keep the occupants alive, the others dreaming.

I blinked and snapped myself from my thoughts. “Alcide mentioned I could change. So I thought that I might.”

Mewsette was rubbing the creamy conditioner into my hair. “Do you want it dyed or cut then?”

“I think Alcide would burst if I dyed it. Just a cut.” I closed my eyes again. “As long as my hair still covers my neck you can do as you wish.”

Mesette hummed to herself. “Alright then.” She stepped away from me. “Sit there for a moment. I’ll be right back.” Her heels clicked, clicked, clicked upon the floor until the sound vanished deep into her chambers.

All I could hear was faint music and my own breathing. I kept my eyes shut, pretending that I was dreaming.

I took in a deep breath and let it fill my chest as slowly as possible. I let it out just as slowly until there was nothing left inside me. When I opened my eyes again to the ceiling, the lights and wires looked like dozens of little eyes staring at me. Amongst them I saw eyes, big and red, glaring down at me from above. Dread swept through my limbs, a sickening, nauseating pit.

“Alright, princess.” Mewsette returned, coming close to me and carrying a pink case in her hand. “Let's get your hair rinsed and dried and we’ll see what happens.”

I tore my eyes away from the ceiling, leaning back again as Mewsette rinsed my hair clean. It was soft and fragrant as she dried it.

“Will you stay with the family once we arrive back at the port?” Mewsette gently ran a comb through my hair, leveling it against my back. She then wrapped a ribbon around it, tying it off near the bottom of my shoulders.

I wanted to shake my head, but I needed to keep it still. “I’m not sure. I’m his gift, so I suppose it is up to the head.”

“Do you stay with the head when you are home?” There was a defined snip and Mewsette placed my bundled hair onto the table beside us.

The long white hair beside me was my own, I made it, but it looked so strange laying there and not upon my head. It was like a removed tail, but there was no blood to be seen. I turned away from it, instead looking at my hand. I picked at the chip in the nail polish.

“It depends who they have when we return.” More polish chipped away.

The snipping of Mewsette's scissors was growing louder and faster. “It must be tiring being a princess sometimes.”

The nail I was using to chip suddenly broke. “I suppose.”

I couldn’t see what Mewsette had done to my hair. I could only tell that there was a weight missing, a breeze at my skin, and when I moved my head I felt the blunt edge of the back brush against me. Mewsette had placed my cut hair into a box so I could present it as a gift to Alcide. I thought I could use it to bribe him to rest.

Lady Renata was not outside when I left the salon. Instead, one of the attendants was waiting for me and was given strict instructions to take me back to my chambers.

“I would like to see the animals,” I told the attendant.

“Lady Renata said you were to go to your room,” their raspy voice hissed back at me.

I looked down at the box in my arms, the cuff on my wrist. There was a sharp pin that held the cuffs together, if I could take it off I could distract the attendant.

“Princess!” A figure lurched out of a room, slamming the door wide open and sending the attendant crawling into the wall.

Alcide’s sudden appearance caused my insides to lurch, my skin to prickle and turn cold, I even stumbled backwards, nearly dropping the box.

His eyes were wild, slightly darker than when I last saw him. His jaw had split and his mouth was opened towards his ears.

I clutched the box tight to me, eyeing him and ready to yell for more attendants to come to my side.

Alcide’s eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. “Your hair!”

“I cut it,” I said with a terse tone. I backed away, turning my body so my shoulder protected me. “You scared me.”

He took a step back as well. “I’m sorry. I realized you were close and I-” his voice choked in his throat. “You cut off so much.”

I couldn’t possibly convey the nerves coursing through my body. His eyes, they weren’t right. I know he’s lying to me, he hasn’t rested longer than he claimed. The wildness of him, the primal paint his veins give him. I do not like this. He’ll go mad soon. Just like she did if he is not careful.

I shook my head at Alcide, keeping my shoulder perched up. “You haven’t rested. You know what will happen.”

“I can’t. I simply can’t!” Alcide fussed, running his fingers through his messy hair, tousling it from side to side until it fell into its part. “Why did you cut your hair?”

I reached out towards the attendant, intending to walk around Alcide. “I don’t want to speak to you until you’ve rested!” I yelled at him. I turned away, walking towards the door and the attendant nearby.

I had barely touched the attendant’s hand when Alcide grabbed me, pulling me up towards him. I dropped the box and the lid opened to pink tissue paper.

“Let me go!” I screamed at him. “How dare you touch me! Release me at once!” My hand struck his jaw, and his mouth parted, revealing the slits that pointed towards his ears.

Alcide snarled near my ear, placing his hand around my throat and twisting the choker back and forth. He placed his nose behind my ear, breathing in my scent and moaning deeply.

“Nessa, oh, Nessa,” he moaned.

“You stupid fool,” I grumbled, letting my body go limp. “What am I going to do with you?” I placed my hand over his and his body pressed close to mine.

The attendant was staring up at us, mouth opening and closing in an odd way. They were unsure of how to move or what to do.

“Leave,” I snapped at them, causing them to scurry away through a door. I struggled in Alcide’s grip. There was only one thing that could calm Alcide when he had entered this sort of mood. I had to relax, to calm myself in order to take care of him.

“You’re being rough with me,” I breathed. I then scoffed, tilting my head to the side. “I cut my hair because I wanted change. While I can still obtain it, I want it.” I glanced down at the box with my hair carefully braided inside. “What was cut is in there. Mewsette packaged it for you.”

Alcide whimpered. “Change frightens me. I didn’t know what to do when I saw you.”

“You could have kept your emotions in check for five seconds,” I growled.

He buried his face into my hair. His finger slid under the choker, snapping it off. I lost my breath as it slid away, falling to the ground with a tiny clatter. My flesh split open against his mouth, my throat bled thickly onto his tongue and down his throat, staining my dress, his shirt and blazer, even dribbling down his skin to give him the color he wanted.

My eyes fluttered and my eyes rolled back into my head. “Not here,” my voice strained. My body felt hot, my veins were tight. I moaned out loud the more his lips pressed to my pale skin. He bit again and again so more blood would flow. He ate messily, like a child would. As a princess, it was my job, my role. Sometimes I took great pleasure in it, even now I cannot distinguish between it and the fear. My toes curled and my body was putty in his hands. I was warm between my thighs and growing wet like my neck.

His mouth pulled back and he breathed in my ear. “I couldn’t stand it much longer. I need you so badly.”

“You’ve forgotten your manners today,” I whimpered. “Hurry now. Before someone sees me in this state.”

Alcide carried me away, leaving droplets of blood upon the ground that the attendants would fight over and lap up directly from the marble. They did not get much fresh food within the tomb ship.

I have only ever known Alcide in a certain way. No one else has partaken of me the way he has. His mother, I think, wanted to, but aside from that, I was only drunk. I let Alcide inside me because I wanted him. He said my warmth made him melt, and he liked to see it spill from inside me. It and being fed upon were my greatest carnal pleasures.

Once Alcide was full and had exerted all his remaining energy, hopefully he would rest. He would lay still and not budge until recovery took hold. My blood assured he kept his strength on these long journeys. Only I was good for that. Not many princes and princesses were left these days, even fewer were born.

My blood stained his sheets, but it did not matter. He rested, content but troubled. I kissed his lips before leaving the bed, removing my stained and ripped dress. I walked naked to his controls, opening the large tome that contained his commands, sliding my fingers over the glowing words to open the screen and the monitors outside the ship.

Space as far as one could see. I changed the angles and there was more of it. Stars beyond my comprehension. Debris which floated and grabbed towards the ship. Wreckage upon wreckage of centuries gone by. Only the tomb ships survive. Somewhere there must be something else, there must be more, so much more.

I touched my neck and Alcide’s bites were already healing. Scars would remain fresh and pink for a long time. I took the cuffs off my wrists where other scars glimmered in the dim light.

Fresh, I thought, always fresh.

I looked back at Alcide in bed, his long, naked form uncovered and exposed. He was beautiful, of course, but I would have time to linger with that beauty later. I touched words within the tome and a door opened upon the wall beside me. White light shone from the crack. The light hurt my eyes as I opened the door, walking down a hall lit up with monitors and readings.

I stood naked amongst the animals and their pods. Shining domes fogged over to keep them hidden. These were the others, the ones I envied. They were mortal, same as me. But different from me as well.

I stood before one pod, seeing inside the young woman whose skin was fleshy pink, her nipples a sort of ruddy brown, her hair dark brown, even on her limbs and above her sex. Beautiful, she was so beautiful. I wanted to sleep like her, to be like the rest of the farm that Alcide was taking back to the family. But I was special. I was like the family even with my warm blood and beating heart. I was more of a vampire than the others. These mortals, taken from their worlds to be delivered to the head of the family and their farm, the one Alcide kept running and flourishing.

I want to dream like them. To sleep for ages. Perchance to wake and see their lives upon the farm. I wonder if this woman would be chosen, to be kept amongst the house and pampered by the family. I would like to see her awake as much as I adore to watch her sleep.

“What do you dream about?” I asked her, leaning upon her pod to look upon her. “Do you see your home? Do you remember your childhood?” I watched her intently, never expecting an answer, only imagining what she could be thinking.

“I don’t remember where I am from,” I told her. “I don’t remember my family at all. I was raised in the nursery. I smoothed my fingers over the keys and dials upon her pod. “I’ve always belonged to the family. But don’t worry! They’re good to their livestock. They keep them alive as best they can.” I gazed upon her sleeping face. “Don’t worry at all. You'll be fine there.”

I was found in Alcide’s chamber, no one knew I went to see the others again. Renata came and fetched me, taking me away from the resting Alcide and back to my own room. She took care of the chipped polish, removing the old and putting on a fresh new layer lacquer.

“Look at this.” She took out a nail file and worked on my nails, filing them down to match the broken one. “What did you do to make this happen?”

“Probably happened when Alcide found me yesterday,” I muttered.

Only the sound of filing followed. She blew the dust away, patting my hand with a cloth to make sure all the nail dust was gone. She picked a bottle of polish from my vanity, opened it, then took hold of my hand.

“The new hair does suit you, princess.” She said this in an offhanded way.

I didn’t do it for her, so it didn’t bother me what she had to say about it. The bright red polish seemed a bit much to me, compared to the muted orange I had before.

“I don’t like this color,” I mumbled.

Renata finished a stroke then squeezed my finger between her thumb and pointer very hard. “I thought the master might enjoy it.”

I looked towards her face, seeing her eyes were focused upon my hand. Her bright orange hair was more turned to me. “Alcide is resting.”

Renata lifted her head, giving me a look with those coal black eyes. “How did the master take to the change in your hair? Was he amused?”

I didn’t look away from her unblinking eyes. “I couldn’t tell. He had gone into one of his moods again.”

“The head of the family says Alcide is mad. Crazy,” she quipped. “Just like his mother.” She stuck the brush back into the bottle of polish. My stomach churned and I looked away.

“But not so mad that he cannot complete his job as part of the family.” She took hold of my hand, laying a fresh stroke upon a clean nail.

“The mind is the only thing that the will of a vampire cannot fix.” She looked up at me again, not smiling, blinking slowly. “It’s what connects us to what we could have been.”

I lifted my eyes up towards her again. “Mortal?”

Renata scoffed. “You’ll understand when your time comes, princess. When the head gives the word and makes you part of the family.” She finished off the pinkie nail and smiled at her work. “I think this color suits you.”

“What if I don’t want to become part of the family?”

Renata sighed in frustration. “Then you are crazier than the master is.” She twisted the lid of the polish shut and set it back upon my vanity. “If you don’t like the color, then Mewsette has others.” She went to stand but I grabbed hold of her uniform. She turned and looked at me with a sharp expression that slowly softened with my gaze.

“What is it, princess? Lonely because the master rests?” Renata took on a smug expression that made me want to strike her.

I shook my head and released her. “Mewsette said she used to be part of the family.”

Renata looked me up and down, taking on a strange expression that I couldn’t read. “Oh, so it’s curiosity that has the cat this morning. Why not ask Mewsette? What do you think I could possibly know.”

I looked into the corner where the attendants were standing waiting for us to leave. “You know everything since you're the leader of the attendants. I know they whisper to you when you ask.”

Renata clicked her tongue and took her seat again. “It’s true, she was a part like Alcide many years ago. Back before she became Mewsette she held another name. She also fell in love with part of another family. It was, to put it lightly, an explosive mess that almost resulted in a family war.” She shrugged and took on that smirk again. “For years after she was disowned, no family would have her. Until Alcide stepped in.”

I cut my eyes at her, noticing she was heavily focused upon my nails again, but I could tell her mind was elsewhere. “What did he do?”

Renata stood, walking over to my vanity and staring at the curtain covering the mirror. Her hand brushed against the curtain then instantly pulled away and looked back at me. “That you’ll have to ask him and Mewsette. Her reentry to the family is one mystery I have no answers for.” She crossed her arms against her chest. “But like me, she cannot become part of the family. Simply belong to the family.” She scowled at me. “So do not talk to me about not wanting to become part of it. Let’s go, you have things to do while the master is resting.”

I turned away from her. “Alcide took much from me. I’m weak, I should spending the day resting and restoring my blood.” I ran my hand up my arm. “Oh, by the way, he dropped my choker, the one with the matching jewel. Could you find it for me?”

Renata sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. But that is all you will do.” She called forth an attendant and whispered to them. “Stay in bed. No wandering. No sneaking to parts of the tomb you are not allowed,” she snarled. “And I’ll find your choker,” she snipped as she walked out the door.

I got into my bed, watching Renata leave then turning to the attendant. They stepped back, hiding between my dresser and the wall.

I sighed and laid back into the bed. I was feeling quite dizzy and weak, hopefully someone would be by with my meal soon. I looked up into the ceiling, seeing the glittering, flashing lights of the circuitry. They’re many glowing eyes gazing back at me. They turned into those eyes I saw yesterday, ones I saw often. At first I couldn’t look away, pulled into a fear from long ago. Vicious, hateful eyes gazed at me, beckoning to me.

I was young and small again, standing in the family home looking for the head. Instead, I found her. I found her chambers, her keep. I hadn’t been with the family long. The Head had just taken me in and I didn’t even have shoes. I ran around the mansion in bare feet, cold toes. I always had cold toes back then. I was told to be careful, but I was also not told where to go. The mansion, a large space station made to house the family and small roots of it, was far bigger than anything I had ever seen.

I got lost, and I found her. Alcide’s mother. I hadn’t yet been configured into the security, so all doors opened to me. She was sitting in her room alone, right before a vanity like mine. Her long white hair was down, falling onto the floor where it curled. She turned and gave me that smile. She called me to her, begging me to come closer. The smile she gave me as she stood haunts my nightmares to this day. And it is why I prefer the tomb ship over the mansion.

I went to Mewsette to repaint my nails after I slept. She carefully removed the too bright color, making sure it didn’t stain my skin.

“You have such tiny hands,” she remarked.

“I know.”

Mewsette gave me a smile. “You do not like the work Renata did?”

“I do not like Renata.”

She bit her lip, holding back her laugh as best she could. After all, Renata was listening from the door. “Well then. I’ll just select a few of the darker colors then and I will let you choose.”

“Thank you.” If I looked close enough, Mewsette almost looked like Aclide. I didn’t notice that yesterday.”

Mewsette stepped aside and a cabinet rose up out of the floor, opening to reveal many glass bottles, not just of polish. “Is Alcide resting?”

I nodded, looking down at my bare nails. “Finally.”

“Good job.” Mewsette said cheerfully. My heart lept, I’d never been told that before. I held my breath as she returned to the side of my chair. She showed me several bottles and I picked a metallic black.

“Why did Alcide bring you back to the family?” I asked.

Mewsette was quiet and her eyes were distant. “He didn’t. He made me his own.” She cut her eyes to me. “Why do you ask?”

“Curiosity.”

She shook her head and looked back down at my hand. “Shouldn't have said anything about it.”

“He didn’t. Renata told me.”

Mewsette closed the bottle of polish then looked me in the eye. “What did Renata tell you?”

There was an edge to her voice that made me flinch. “She said you fell for someone in another family and it caused a big mess.”

Mewsette leaned in very close to me, cupping her hand around my ear. She whispered so faintly I almost didn’t hear her. “Renata knows nothing.”

I looked back into her eyes as she stepped back. “Then why were you removed from the family?”

Mewsette just smiled sadly. “It doesn’t matter to me anymore.” She opened the bottle of polish again. “It was too long ago. Besides, you wouldn’t remember anyways.”

I opened my mouth to question her when an alarm blared. Red lights turned on around the room and out in the hallway as the screeching, deafening sound filled the entire tomb ship.

Mewsette stood up casually from her seat. “Stay here, Nessa.”

“What is that?” I shouted over the siren.

“A small problem. But more than likely, I’ll need to help out with it.” She strode towards the door. “You’ll be fine here. Promise.”

The door closed, but the alarm was sounding everywhere. I huffed and leaned back in the seat, raising my hand to inspect the nails Mewsette had completed. The lights kept flashing so it was hard to make out.

I got up and walked to the door, peering outside to the hallway. It was quiet now, aside from the alarm I mean. There were no voices, no footsteps. There was no Renata either so I left Mewsette’s chambers.

The lights and siren were eerie, but it was the fact that no one was around that really bothered me. No attendants, no Renata, I never knew a tomb ship like that. I came upon Alcide’s chambers where the doors were flung wide open. I went inside, seeing Alcide was no longer in his bed. I lost my breath for a moment, going towards the tomb to pull up a map of the ship.

My fingers had barely brushed the pages when I heard breathing near me.

Maybe it would not have been a noticeable thing to others, but on a ship with no heartbeats, it was clear as day. I looked back at Alcide’s bed, every hair on my body standing on end. I stepped towards the bed, hearing the breathing pitch a touch higher. I knew there was something under there.

I crept closer, but as I did someone else came into the room. Renata looked at me, her jaw slack and hand holding some sort of metal contraption. “What are you doing here?” She barked at me.

I didn’t move or respond to her. The breathing went silent.

Renata moved fast into the room, storming towards me with a frightening look upon her face. “One of the animals escaped! Was it you?”

My eyes widened as she came towards me, stretching out her hand to grab me by the neck. It was tender from Alcide’s affections, so I cried out in pain as she took hold of me.

“Some princess! Always wanting to see those animals. But you’re all the same. It doesn’t matter if you look like us, you’re still a bleeder just like them.” She yanked me, pulling me towards the door.

I swung at her, slapping her face and knocking off her glasses. Her pitch black eyes stared at me. They looked like glass, endless depthless glass.

She slammed me down to the ground, pinning me there. She smirked, grinning wildly as she saw my neck was bare. The choker still hadn’t been returned.

“He won’t notice one bite.”

I struggled, fighting against Renata as she bore down upon me. Her lips split, opening towards her ears as her full jaw widened. She had missing teeth, ones probably removed by the head for similar actions.

I screamed out loud, praying someone would fine me.

Renata was knocked aside and I began crying. I wept loudly as there was a sickening wet, squelching sound near me. Alcide’s mother had done the same. She had ripped my clothes to shreds and kept me in her chambers sealed away for days. She bore down upon me like Renata did too.

I turned my head to look beside me, eyes blurry and wet with tears. A naked figure sat upon Renata, both were covered by thick, dark brown blood. No red. Almost black.

They turned to me, eyes wild and breathing erratic. She stood upand I saw the spike sticking from Renata’s chest.

There she was before me, awake and with eyes as bright as the sky. The sky?

I held my breath as we looked at one another. I’m sure both of us were terrified of each other in that moment.

“You killed her,” I whispered.

The mortal woman placed her bloodied finger over her lips. “Be quiet,” she breathed. She looked to the door, moving towards it and quickly shutting it.

I must have hit a key when I saw her the other day. That’s the only explanation. I sat up from the ground, trembling and shaking. I wanted Alcide near me, to hold me and kiss me.

The mortal woman wiped her hand on Alcide’s sheets then tossed them over Renata’s corpse. “You look just like one. But you’re not,” she whispered.

I looked up at her with watery eyes.

She shook her head and knelt down before me. “No. They don’t cry.”

My whole body shuddered and I closed my eyes.

“Where are we?” She asked.

“A tomb ship,” I sniffled.

She was quiet for a long spell, standing up to look around the room. “Fuck.” She paced back and forth, the smacking of her bare feet on the ground were all all too familiar to me.

Renata’s hand was sticking out from under the sheet. I watched it carefully as I rose from the ground.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

Her blue eyes stared at me as if I had asked her something ridiculous. “What’s yours?” She snapped back.

I smiled at her, so happy to see her moving, breathing, being alive as I was. “Nessa!”

She looked me up and down, placing her arms against her chest. “I’ve heard about people like you. Mortals who are treated like one of them.” Her eyes narrowed upon me, and despite my joy to see her, I suddenly felt very uneasy. “But I thought it was just stories. But look at you. As white as them. Eyes as red. All you’re missing is the smile.” She dragged her fingers from the corner of her mouth to her ear.

I wasn’t sure what to say. “I can take you back to your pod.”

She glared at me. “No! I would rather die!”

It felt like a shot through my chest. “Wha-what do you mean?”

“Don’t you know what they do to us?” She hissed then pointed down at Renata’s corpse. “She just tried to kill you!”

“Not kill,” I urged. “Just drink.”

“Just!” The mortal woman laughed. She quickly covered her mouth from her outburst and glared at me over her hand. “They call us livestock. Animals!”

“Yes but-”

She stared hard at me. “What do they do to you here?”

“Please, just let me put you back into your pod. I’ll say I killed Renata, and then you can be safe!” I begged of her, reaching out for her but she yanked away from me.

“Nessa, you have no idea what is going on,” she hissed at me.

“But all I ever wanted was to be like you. To know someone like you.” My breath choked in my throat as I looked at her. “I’ve never gotten to meet, let alone speak, to someone like me.”

“No wonder,” she scoffed. “Maybe it’s the best you don’t.” She walked away from me, heading towards the tome which she leaned over. She turned pages and screens popped up around her.

I looked down at Renata, seeing the pool of black growing around her. Her hand was grey and skeletal, her rings were slowly falling off.

“What do you dream about?” I asked.

The mortal woman didn’t respond so I walked over towards her.

“In the pod, when you’re asleep. What do you dream about?” I repeated myself.

She barely looked up at me as she poured over the tome. “I don’t.”

My chest seized and everything felt tight. “Surely you do.”

Her eyes focus on screens and she grows a frustrated expression. “No. Not in the pods. Under the conditions we are put in, we don’t dream at all.”

I lowered my eyes and let out a mournful breath. “Oh.”

The door opened and Alcide stepped in with Mewsette behind him. They stared at Renata’s body and Mewsette even made a sound of alarm.

I looked up at them, my shoulder sunk and the mortal woman grabbed me. I let her. She placed me before her and Alcide was ready to charge before Mewsette held him back.

I wanted to dream forever, to be like them, to understand them. I wanted to fade into sleep and never come back. But it suddenly was like I was always asleep. I had just woken up, and everything was loud, unending noise. I want to be asleep again. I want to be asleep.

Alcide’s mom had been brushing my hair when the black blood spilled down my face and onto my shoulder. My neck was so sore I could barely look up. But in the mirror, I saw the faint shadow and ghostly visage of another one beside me. Alcide’s mother was suddenly by my feet, her eyes wide and empty.

Someone picked me up and carried me out of the room, rushing me to the head of the family who took me into their arms. I woke in my own bed sometime later.

“There you are.”

I looked up at Mewsette sitting across from me. She smiled. “Sleep well?”

I blinked for a moment, rubbing sleep from my eyes as I tried to piece together what had happened. I saw Alcide’s mother dead, murdered by some strong force. I saw Renata’s sickly hand as it faded away, her rings falling upon the floor and chiming.

Mewsette stood up and walked to me. She picked up my choker, the missing one, from my bedside table and gently placed it around my throat. “I’m helping you get ready this morning. Take your time waking up, I’ll go fetch your breakfast.”

I watched her go across the room, elegant and tall. Her hand brushed away the curtain covering the mirror, and her ghostly image inside glared back at her. “What a lovely mirror,” she replied.

“Mewsette?” My voice choked in my throat.

She looked at me with a knowing smile and she nodded her head so her long curls in her hair bounced. “Did you have a bad dream? Would you like me to call Alcide?”

I nodded.

“I’ll be right back.” Mewsette passed by me, and I could remember a moment when her footsteps were painted black by the blood of Alcide’s mother.

I touched the stone around my neck, closing my eyes as I pushed the thoughts from my head.

I would like to dream forever as I always do, to sleep and find myself at home. I remove myself from bed, setting my feet down upon the cold floor. I walk over to the vanity, pulling back at the curtain to look at myself.

I look like them, and I smile because I do.

ROOT ROT

More Posts from Solace-inu and Others

Alcide the Vampire