Stain

“The only thing you’ll have to worry about is, well, Rejecting.”

She glanced across at him, looking into his red eyes, he suppressed a smile. “It’s a condition when a Nymph is undergoing the process to turn into a Vampire and they go insane.”

Her eyes grew wide. He laughed, “Trust me. I’ve only seen it once in my immortal life, and the product of Rejecting is in the cellar of this very manor.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember when Silvan left he referred to the maniac?”

“Yes.”

“He was speaking of a Nymph we’ve had for about…a year. His name is McCauley. He went completely insane. Nobody has seemed to figure out how it happens, but it does. You’re trapped in the Nymph stage, which triggers the insanity even more. Like poking something, over, and over, and over, and over.”

She looked at Aleksander, looking him up and down. “Do you think it could happen to me?”

He laughed, taking her hand and standing her up out of her chair. “Darling, McCauley was very…troubled before the Rejection even began. You’re clearly sane and stable.”

She yawned, he looked at her. “I must go check on him actually.” His Russian accent had taken over once again, “I shall be back momentarily.”

Just like that, he had exited the room. She looked around, noticing two ceiling to floor dusty grey curtains, she pulled them back.

They revealed two French-style doors that had windows that out looked onto a balcony, she opened them and stepped outside. The cold air whipped against her face, sending her dark brown hair out of her face and in a wind grasped graceful tangle behind her, she closed her eyes.

All of the things Aleksander had told her about began to overwhelm her. She was going to live forever. Immortal. No way out of it. Or maybe there was?

She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to be a monster.

She looked over the balcony, it was a pretty far way down.

Enough to snap a neck?

She climbed over the rail, her hair blowing even more in the wind, along with the skirt of her dress, she positioned herself so she had her back to the house and was looking out onto the large yard, holding dearly onto the rail, her feet slipping every second.

She wanted this. Death. Not immortality.

How could anyone survive having their neck snapped? Even a vampire.

She looked out down into what would be her fall. It seemed like a never ending abyss.

“Won’t work.” She heard someone whisper.

She turned her head over her shoulder, “How could I survive a broken neck?”

He laughed, “You’d be surprised. Your neck would heal within about…oh…a minute. Maybe thirty seconds, but you’re a Nymph so you can’t expect that. So at least a minute.”

“I’d die by then.”

“Nope.”

She returned her gaze outward, and jumped.

Maybe she would wake up and realize this had all been some ridiculously realistic dream.

He caught her.

She opened her eyes, looking into his, he had a smirk. “It still would have hurt when you hit the ground.”

“H-How did you get down here?” She stammered.

“Fast.”

He set her down, the grass was cold.

“Hmm…”

“What?”

“Alena.”

She gave him a puzzling look.

“Your name.”

“That was my name?”

He smiled, “It is now.”