The Creature is Me
The clock turned its long arms to ten, and I woke up. Outside the Sun had set a long time ago, and now my windows reflected nothing but my own silhouette against the soft linen. It was quiet, as usual. Even my own breathing seemed to have disappeared. At least that would have been what another soul would have thought, had they laid here next to me.
As I began adjusting my flowy curls, a gentle “tap” echoed somewhere in the massive estate I inhabited. My eyes glowed against the thick glass but could see nothing, despite my occult senses.
“Maybe Samara is still wandering,” I whispered to myself. As a feline, she did indeed enjoy strolling in the dark but usually found it as boring as moving during the daylight. Some would call her lazy, but compared to me she was the most active creature in this house. I would spend most of my own nights in bed; reading and pondering about the unknown. Because, you see, the thirst for knowledge does not wither even after the being has abandoned their humanity.
After I chose my outfit and did all the required pampering, my ears caught that “tap” sound yet again. This time, however, already dressed, I made my way down to the first floor. The wooden stairs creaked gently under my heels but still faintly enough so no mortal could possibly be able to hear anything actually moving. My dark robe flowed behind me, and my hair rested in a graceful updo on the back of my head. My eyes were, as many have told me over the centuries, full of secrets. Yet no one had had the courage to actually tell me whether the secrets were good or bad.
Was I supposed to be the mistress of evil or the one blessed with light?
“Tap, tap, tap”. Now I was standing right behind the front door. It stood there, mighty but tempting, as it always had. The sound itself came from one of the big dark windows that were covered with curtains, flowing with exquisite embroidery. I peeked from one side of the fabric, still keeping my distance from the actual window and its line of sight.
Boys.
Outside the entrance to my house were a group of boys, no older than 18 summers. They were lively, covered in bright fabrics and making fun of each other in a language I hadn’t had interest in learning. Two boys were standing right in front of the window, tapping it with something sharp. A subtle smirk formed on my face.
The boys tried so hard to not make any proper sound because even if this land was rumoured to be “cursed”, the local law enforcers kept an eye on my house. That was for the sake of the locals who feared that their children would vanish on my grounds. In reality, I had no actual interest in those little beings, but if you were an impoverished and illiterate mortal you would suppose that I did.
But I may have, a few times, lured a couple of good looking men and graceful women into my humble home to enjoy a once in a lifetime experience with an immortal. Sadly, they never lasted long enough for my liking. But like I said, some things do not change even if you have been gone for centuries. Desire is one of them and I, like any other presence in this world, could not say no to its embrace. It really is peculiar - the feeling of desire, that is. It is something so full of life, but at the same time it only brings us further away from it. I wonder if that is why we ultimately feel so passionately towards everything it surrounds.
My inner monologue was cut short when I saw the door’s handle wiggle. It made some quiet sounds that made me recall all the ancient oaks surrounding my home. Then it quietly turned back to its original position.
So they really tried to get into my home without permission.
I looked up to meet the Moon herself shining onto my washed out face. The roof was made of the same glass as every window, the only difference being that it was crystal clear like the waters flowing in some of the places mortals seemed to enjoy visiting the most. I felt at ease, the gentle light dancing on my features. We both were as eternal as the world itself which is why I think we got along so well.
However, as calm and collected as I was standing there, my humour faded quickly. After turning my body back towards the window I was met with a pair of forest coloured eyes. I could see the fear draining them but could not do anything besides stare.
“Who are you?” their owner asked. The accent behind his words was thick and the tone of his voice low. I figured he was the oldest of the group.
“I am whatever you dream of me, and that is why you feel so tempted to step inside my home.”
He nodded, though I do not think he even realized it. I put on my most charming smile and asked him to join me. The reason for my courtesy was that like all the other souls before him, I sensed a bond. It was as stinging as the blade of a dagger but at the same time, the most tempting request. I have not fully figured out why these bonds do happen, but I know that they remind me of someone.
Someone as lonely and ancient as me. A star-crossed lover.
The boy made his way to my door and without any problems, I showed it open with my cold hand. It unlocked without any sound, like it was told to stay quiet. I gently took the boy's hand in mine and began leading him back upstairs. His little friends seemed to have noticed his disappearance, and I could hear a faint panic in their voices.
“If they decide to stay, Samara shall take care of them,” I whispered into the boy’s ear. He was turning pale thus I knew he was not the one. My heart shrieked in agony. Disgust creeped into my body, my every breath reeking of repulsion. My cryptic eyes became infested with madness itself. But because I had already invited the boy to spend the night, I would enjoy playing with him.
Thus there were many sounds that followed, but what exactly they were or what took place that night; I’m leaving to your imagination, my dear.
