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I cradle her slender form, marveling at these strange new instincts awakened in my ancient spirit. Before her, I never fathomed yearning for such simple intimacy.
Too soon, my demonic hunger stirs, an urge she cannot satisfy. With a parting kiss atop her head, I dive into the sparkling pond nearby. I plunge deep, lungs burning, and snatch a turtle and two fish.
I gather herbs on shore, reminded of Annette's mortal tastes. Though raw flesh sustains me, I will prepare her a proper meal.
Providing for another feels oddly rewarding. It’s one of many things that has been a fascinating revelation since meeting Annette.
I start a fire with a flick of my claws and into her little pot I throw the creatures along with the disgusting mortal accouterments. Yet, the aroma as it bubbles and steams makes my mouth water. She comes out of the cave while I am waiting for the food to be done, buries her face in my lap, and once more rests her eyes.
I serve her a steaming bowl, and together we eat as the sun climbs higher, drying the earth from the night's rain. She props herself up in my lap. “You really don’t mind?”
“Mind what?”
“You know what I’m talking about, the kill. The cooking.”
“I would prefer them the natural way, but for you, perhaps making exceptions is not so bad.”
She slowly nods. "So how old are you exactly?"
I gaze into the fire, considering. "I do not know for certain," I finally reply. "I try to estimate by the rising and fall of empires, measuring eras in the ebb and flow of civilizations."
My answer hangs heavy between us amidst the soothing forest ambiance. Annette absorbs this, curiosity still alight in her gaze. "But you must have some memories that span the ages?" she presses gently.
I shake my head. "The lines blur over centuries. Events bleed together in my consciousness. I wake and sleep and begin to lose sight of how much time must have gone by."
I stare into the flickering flames, glimpses of forgotten eras dancing at the edge of recollection. She traces idle patterns on my chest, absorbing my words, trying her best to understand the unexplainable. "How do you cope with it?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
"In solitude, mostly. I am a drifter. The eons pass, and I remain. I’m a specter observing the rise and fall of empires. But understand, there’s solace in the simplicity of survival, in fulfilling one’s nature."
She absorbs my words, awe and sympathy painting her face. She presses closer. The flames flicker and crackle. "I have seen the best and worst of humanity," I continue. "Yet your resilience, your capacity for goodness despite the darkness that often shrouds this world, intrigues me."
My admission catches her off guard. Perhaps beneath the layers of my demonic exterior, there lies a complexity that defies the simplistic labels often assigned to creatures like myself. I reach up to gently trace the curve of her cheek, a gesture both intimate and reassuring.
"You've seen the darkness in me, too," she says softly.
"Yet you carry a light within. It is a rarity, and perhaps that is why you stand out amidst the eons."
In the quiet of the forest, I find a strange comfort in her presence. It's as if, for a fleeting moment, our disparate worlds align, and the boundaries between us blur.
"How did you awaken?" she asks, changing the subject to something more tangible, more immediate.
I shift my gaze from the flames to meet her eyes. "The call of malevolence stirred me. The darkness that permeated the surrounding towns pulled me from the depths where I slumbered. I awoke to a world steeped in chaos, and my instincts led me to seek out the source."
"Malevolence," she murmurs, contemplating the implications of my awakening.
"Yes," reply. "I am drawn to it, tasked with consuming the souls of those who have committed terrible acts. It is a solitary existence, one I have embraced over countless centuries."
The revelation settles between us, an unspoken understanding of the path I must walk. I can see her entangled in a web of conflicting emotions – fear, fascination, and a burgeoning empathy that defies reason.
"Do you remember your parents?" she asks, her voice a soft melody in the ambient forest sounds. A stony silence follows as I contemplate.
"No," I finally answer, my tone carrying the weight of a distant past. "The memories of kinship, of familial ties, have faded into the recesses of time. I am a creature born of another era, detached from the bonds that define mortals."
"Have you ever been in love?" she ventures.
"Love?" I repeat, my expression one of genuine confusion. "What is this?" I search her eyes, realizing it must be another human convention.
"It's a feeling, Rukh. An emotion that transcends reason. A connection that goes beyond the confines of time and space."
