"Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win."
She was walking. It was dark, so dark that she couldn't see anything, not ever the hand she held up in front of her face. It was also cold. So very cold. Suddenly there was a strange wrarmth, engulfing her, making her feel safe, subsiding some of the panic that had been building in her chest.
But then it was gone, and the cold returned, this time penetrating her to her very core. She was confused. What had that warmth been? Why was it gone now? Where was she? Who was she? She couldn't remember. How odd. Everytime she tried to pull something out of the deep reseces of her mind, it was as if someone was shutting the door in her face, keeping her from figuring it out. She felt tired, her limbs heavy. It was so very, very cold.
Something assaulted her nostrils. Blood. It made her mouth water. Of course it did. That was what kept her alive. She was a vampire. No, she was more than that. She was abeast in human form, that preyed upon the life of humans, and she was one of the few vampires who were pure. No human blood tainted her veins. Why did that thought make her heart hurt so? Was she afraid of her heritage? Why? She was a Pure Blood, one of the last true vampires.
That answered the question of what she was, but not who she was. There was a light off to her right. She saw a scene shift before her, a girl falling from a building, blood trailing behind her, and another girl in hysterics, behing held back by a man. Her heart ached. Why? Did she know these people? What a strange thing to feel. She turned and walked back into the darkness.
For a day, Nicole lay still where Sora had laid her. Other than the fact that she was breathing, one would almost think that she was dead. At midnight of the day following the attack, she shifted slightly, ever so slightly. And then she lay still again. She responded to nothing, not to touch, not to sound, not to light. All she did was lay there and breathe.
She still had no idea who she was. Why was it so hard to figure out? Why did she feel the need to figure it out? Why couldn't she simply stay where she felt safe? She stred dull-eyed at the scene in front of her. A young girl was being held against the wall by a tall man, his hand around her throat. A beautiful female was weeping in the corner, begging the man to let her go. The little girl made no sound, and didn't even struggle. She looked dead in the eyes, like this was something normal.
Her chest constricted, the scar aching painfully. The woman began yelling, begging the man not to hurt Nicole. Something in her memory perked. Nicole. That was her name. Nicole. She was Nicole. But why was she here, in this darkness? Why had it taken her so long to remember? The scene shifted, and twisted, ugly cretures with the faces of people she knew loomed up in front of her. Her father, her mother, Naya, Shizuka. Others were there as well, Dairen, and Hikaru. They were blaming her, yelling at her. Her father and mother were telling her how disappionted in her.
Naya was blaming her for her death. Shizuka was taunting her, asking her why Nicole had not stopped her from killing Dairen and Naya. Dairen only stared silently at her, his eyes accusing her silently for letting his beloved kill herself. Hikaru was laughing. She turned and ran, trying desprately to get away from them. It wasn't her fault, it wasn't, it wasn't! Suddenly Sora was there. He alone, looked normal. Without hesitation, she ran to him, into his arms, into safety. But even that didn't last.
Sora's arms turned into vines, holding her in place. Shadows began to crawl up her body, her shadows. No matter how much she tried to stop them, they kept coming. Blood poured from her eyes as they were gouged. She could do nothing to stop it. She stoped trying. After all, it was her fault.
At midnight on the second day from when she had passed out, Nicole sat up in bed. She looked down at her hands, one arm in a sleeve, the other bare. What had happened? Suddenly, it all came rushing back. The wolves, the attack, Sora protecting her, her bandaging his wound. Naya's suicide. She shut her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself tightly. She looked around, taking in where she was. It was her room.
She let her eyes wander, landing on Sora who lay sprawled across the couch at the far end of the room. He was breathing lightly. He was still asleep. Something in her chest constricted. Had he stayed with her? Why would he have done that? She tried to clear her head, to figure out how long she had been out. She looked out the window, using the moon. Forty-eight hours, give or take, by her estimate. She looked at the man who was her betrothed once more.
A small light burned in her eyes, despite the hollow, dead look she exuhmed. Suddenly she didn't want to be alone. She placed her bare feet on the floor, silently standing up. For a few seconds, she didn't move, she only stared at the Pure Blood on her couch, before gliding over to him like a ghost. She knelt next to him, laying her head on his chest, clutching at his shirt. She took him in in every way she could, the way he felt, his scent. She was alone, so very alone. And it made her heart hurt.