When she suggested she come visit her cottage, Sarah was taken aback. It’s not that she didn’t want to spend time with Ava or felt uncomfortable with her in her home, she was just nervous. Ava’s mansion was so well kept and impossibly beautiful; Sarah felt her little home would be embarrassingly plain and messy. Not to mention the ghost with whom she cohabitated, she was unsure how a visit from the vampire would go over.

Still, Sarah couldn’t say no to Ava in this case. She wanted to spend every waking moment with the vampire and she wouldn’t pass up the opportunity due to her mundane worries. That’s why she found herself preparing dinner with dark red eyes tracking her every move.

“Darling?” Ava’s low voice spoke up from her perch on the counter, the crimson fabric of her skirts covering the granite almost completely. She had been admiring the way Sarah looked in that moment, her curls pulled away from her face with a haphazardly placed clip and her focus on the food in front of her. Still, curiosity got the better of her.

“Yes?”

“What is that white sponge?” Ava’s brow was furrowed, watching as Sarah pressed the curious thing between two sides of a towel to get the water out of it. It was an odd practice to her and seemed out of place during the middle of cooking.

Sarah couldn’t help but laugh, “Tofu. It’s tofu.”

“Tofu?”

“A meat substitute,” she supplied to the other woman, “Made from soy. I don’t eat meat, remember?”

“Ah, I see. That’s strange, the shape of it I mean. It looks spongy.”

“-We believe that we can change the things around us in accordance with our desires—we believe it because otherwise we can see no favourable outcome.”

The way Sarah read out loud was captivating, her voice carrying just the right amount of emotion and inflection. Ava had never been one to enjoy listening to others read, she much rather preferred to hold and skim the book herself, but this was different. With Sarah she would listen for hours, whatever novel or journal she chose to read that day. Her voice was soothing, something that sounded so familiar to Ava since the second she had first uttered a word around the vampire. Sarah could read anything — say anything — and she would always have Ava’s full attention.

Sometimes her attention wasn’t completely on her words, though. It’s not like she could help it, not really. Sarah herself was the most entrancing person she had ever met, in every way imaginable. Ava couldn’t help but stare, unabashed in the way her eyes lingered on her lips a little longer than necessary. With her chin hooked gently over her shoulder, she was content to lean into her body and listen. So what if she got momentarily distracted by the warmth of Sarah’s body settled against her own or the way her soft curls felt under Ava’s fingertips. She was listening, of course, but Sarah herself was too captivating to ignore.

“We do not think of the outcome which generally comes to pass and is also favourable-,” she was continuing, though Ava could hear a slight change in her tone, “We do not succeed in changing things in accordance with our desires… but gradually our desires change.”

A gentle hand was suddenly on Ava’s cheek, her touch sending a spark of heat across her icy skin. It would never not be shocking, the amount of warmth Sarah had and how it affected her, but she wasn’t complaining.

“Are you listening, Avey?”

The nickname had her grinning, immaculate fangs peeking from under her lip as it curled slightly. The human had gotten so comfortable with her, which is everything she wanted. She wasn’t quite sure where her attachment stemmed from, why she cared so much for this woman, but that didn’t matter. All Ava knew was that she adored Sarah, she had since they met if she was to be honest. It was nice knowing the feeling and trust was mutual.

“Of course, darling,” Ava replied as she leaned into her palm, “I’m always listening.”

Sarah just looked at her for a moment, a shy smile creeping onto her face at the prolonged eye contact. Ava adored the way she looked when she was flustered, the dusting of pink that fell on her cheeks and the way her nose scrunched a little with her smile. It was the little things about Sarah, her mannerisms and actions, that made Ava even more fond of her every day.

Even at those words, Sarah set down her book after gently dog-earring the page. Ava pouted a little, since she had been enjoying listening even if she was a bit distracted from the actual story. Sarah just looked at her in amusement and Ava knew what was coming.

“A literal vampire who’s been alive for over a century,” she teased, “Pouting at me to get what she wants?”

“Oh shush,” Ava grumbled, though Sarah’s point was only made more apparent when the human stood up. Ava immediately whined at the loss of her warmth, even though she didn’t need it at all. She still liked when Sarah would sit on her lap, the pressure and closeness a comfort she had never let herself surrender to much in her afterlife.

“It’s getting late,” Sarah explained, “And you know how Nat is if I don’t come home.”

“Damned ghost,” Ava muttered only half seriously, “Sarah…”

“Ava~” Sarah mocked her tone with an apologetic smile, “I can come back tomorrow.”

“Or,” Cold hands were on her hips and tugging her closer once again,”You could just stay.”

“You certainly know how to charm a lady, don’t you?”

“You bully me,” the blonde sighed, “I don’t like when you’re out in the forest alone, not this late.”

Sarah nodded, her arms coming up to wrap around Ava’s neck, “I know, but I’m safe. I’ll come back to you tomorrow afternoon, I always do. I do need to go home, though; Autumn needs to be fed and she won’t eat anything Natalie touches.”

That had the other woman frowning, knowing she wouldn’t persuade her this time. She knew it was dramatic and probably unbecoming of her to pout like this but she couldn’t help it. Sarah made her feel more alive and more safe than she had in almost a century and a half. When she wasn’t around it felt as though something was missing, leaving the vampire with a nagging worry picking away at her mind.

Sarah didn’t complain when Ava leaned into her without replying, tucking her face into the crook of her neck. She was used to this and knew it was a comfort to both of them, a moment of vulnerability that somehow felt like the safest position. She didn’t flinch when Ava sighed against her skin, content with the way Sarah’s hand carded through her hair carefully.

“We’re both safe, love,” she promised, making her point by utilizing the pet name. Sarah didn’t use pet names often, sticking instead to variations of her name. She wasn’t as affectionate with her words as she was physical contact, that was just who she was as a person. It made her flustered, Ava figured, and she didn’t mind all too much. Besides, she knew their relationship was rather ambiguous and Sarah didn’t know what to do with their lack of label. It still made Ava grin like a Cheshire cat when she called her “love”, though. It was enough, especially in that moment.

“I know,” she murmured, “Thank you.”

“I’m right here,” Sarah replied, “You’ve got me. Even if I’m across the forest, you’ve got me, okay?”

“Of course.”

They lapsed into silence after that, simply basking in the comfort of their embrace for a few more moments. Ava wanted Sarah to get home before it got too late but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. Something about the other woman was just so intoxicating, in every sense of the word, and she couldn’t bear to let her go.

“Ava…”

“I know,” she repeated and took a deep breath, welcoming the scent of pine and something so entirely Sarah into her senses. She pulled back after a moment, though she leaned back in to press a light kiss to the curve of Sarah’s jaw.

“My cherished one,” she said softly, “Be safe, for me.”

The blush that settled on her face was enough to make Ava smile again, especially paired with her doe-eyed look and the way she stuttered her reply.

Just a few more steps and then you can rest

You’ve made it this far, keep going

Don’t you dare die in this forest alone

That was only a snippet of what was going through Sam’s head as she dragged herself through the undergrowth of the forest. The werewolf wasn’t sure how long she had been walking for before she had collapsed, her body too weak to support its weight. She couldn’t stop, though, so she just dragged herself across the cold dirt, feeling spruce needles digging harshly into her knees and rocks tearing at her skin. She was still half turned, too exhausted to change back, but her claws came in handy as they allowed her to grip at the dirt for stability. She knew being in wolf form only expended energy but she was also glaringly aware that she probably wouldn’t survive anyway if she changed now. Her human form would be too weak to handle the pain and she could still feel blood seeping from the deep gouge in her side; without her lycanthropy boosting her healing, Sam would be better off dead.

She didn’t have much memory of the past few weeks, the only things she could remember were painful and hard to focus on. Ever since the death of their leader, the pack had gotten violent. With Connor on the run, the werewolves who idolized the late leader of the Rhodes pack had to take their grief and anger out on someone else. Sam was the obvious target, seeing as her insubordinate behaviour was the reason he was dead in the first place.

They had kept her in one of the empty caves, back in chains like she had been merely days before. She was still a new wolf and the treatment didn’t help her adjust, the enchanted silver of her restraints burned at her skin and left her writhing in constant discomfort. She was scarcely fed, thrown only bones and the rare piece of scraps if they were feeling especially kind. Sam was no stranger to their hate, she had never really been accepted since her turning anyway, but this was even worse than she could have imagined. They beat her every day, letting the younger fighters use her as a training dummy just as Cornelius had wanted before he died. At sundown she would be thrown roughly back in her cave, her wounds full of rocks and her body unable to heal because it was so weak. Sam couldn’t do anything but weep, praying to the universe that someone would just put her out of her misery.

This day had been different, though. One of the pups was in charge of putting her back in chains, heaving her limp body across the camp to lock her away again. He didn’t want anything to do with this job, that was clear, and he didn’t make certain that the restraints were tight. He left and it took Sam a few hours to work up the strength and courage to slip her scarred wrists from the loose chains. Knowing this was her only chance, Sam waited until she was sure no one was awake, praying that they didn’t come check on her that evening. It took all her willpower to keep quiet, wanting to cry out with the agony she felt as she hobbled as silently as possible. She was limping, pretty sure one of her ankles was shattered at that point. Still, the second she reached the edge of the camp, Sam took off in a sprint; knowing someone would catch her scent soon enough.

Unsure of where she was or how long she had been running for, the blonde knew she was lost. She hoped that would mean no other wolf would find her, though she didn’t know how in the world she would survive this. The sun had begun to rise slowly to the east, letting her know it must have been about 6 hours since she started running. She was running on fumes, barely able to drag herself without feeling like she would throw up, though it would be only bile by that point. When her weak wrist finally gave out, a sickening crack echoing through the forest as she failed to catch herself, Sam could only whimper. She rolled herself over partially, curling into herself in the mud because she knew this was it. She would die here, alone and in absolute agony, but at least it wouldn’t be by the pack’s hand.

“Connor,” she mumbled weakly into the empty air, “I’m so sorry.”

That was when her vision went dark, surrendering to the promise of peace found in unconsciousness.

***

“Oh dear, you poor thing.”

An accent that she didn’t recognize, childish yet sounding ancient all the same. Sam couldn’t open her eyes, a blinding light casting painful shapes behind her eyelids. This must be the end, she figured, the voice belonging to whatever would end her suffering. She didn’t know if werewolves could even go to Heaven, probably not, but she just hoped Purgatory would be less painful than the alternative.

“Mama won’t…” the voice just barely broke through her haze, “... I can’t leave her…”

Excruciating pain shot through Sam’s body soon after, making her cry out. Well, she assumed she did, though she couldn’t hear herself at all. Every fibre of her being was begging for it to end, pleading with whatever was torturing her to just let her die. Those were the only words in her mind just before she blacked out again.

Please, let me die.

***

Cold hands, hushed voices, the feeling of something pressing into her wounds. It all just brushed at the edge of her consciousness, making Sam feel like she was in a dream. She must be, she figured, but she didn’t dare open her eyes. Waking up would mean being a punching bag all over again, the last thing she wanted to feel again was the razor sharp fangs tearing at her flesh. She couldn't live through her second family turning on her, over and over; she didn’t want to wake up to that ever again.

“Poor pup,” Sam wanted to flinch at the freezing fingers that trailed down her bruised face, “... in such a state.”

There was more conversation, both voices carrying the same accented tone that made her feel in a foreign place. She couldn’t place their words, as if they switch languages mid sentence and her brain couldn’t tell one word from another. Nothing felt real, not even the searing pain when her ankle was snapped back into place with a crunch that shook her whole leg. Nothing felt real, of course it didn’t; she was dead after all.

***

“Hey, c’mon, pup.”

Sam whined, the lights were once again too bright and her eyes refused to open. She didn’t know where she was and the freezing touch was back on her skin again. Clearly she wasn’t dead, not yet, despite what she had previously thought. She had been in and out of consciousness a few times, roused by the same low voice and the promise of painkillers or water.

“You need to drink something,” the voice pressed and a hand was on the back of Sam’s neck, “Would be a shame if dehydration kills you, after all of this.”

She didn’t fight when a glass was pressed to her lips, the hand cradling her head so she didn’t choke. She hadn’t noticed just how thirsty she had been, not until her dry throat was finally met with the water offered to her. It made her cough a little, relieved to have some fluids but it still shocked her body, and that earned her a soft chuckle from her caretaker.

“Careful,” the glass was removed when she had her fill and her head was guided back to the pillow, “Are you ready to join us?”

Sam didn’t answer, she couldn’t, because her head was pounding. She wanted to escape back into the minor peace she found in sleep, the one place away from all her pain and fear. She could only whimper a little when her body was jostled, an apology murmured as something soft was tucked around her.

“Alright, rest then.”

***

“She barely stirs,” her caretaker’s tone was matter-of-fact, “I am surprised. Lycanthropy-induced healing is incredibly agonizing.”

“Ava?” a new voice, an american accent that Sam swore she had heard before; not in this life but in her human one.

“What is it, Darling?”

“Where did she come from?”

“Tia found her,” the reply was gentle, “Half dead in the woods. The child has never been good with death, she begged me to save her. I couldn’t let the pup die, not on our land, so she may rest here until she regains her strength.”

“She is lucky to have you.”

Sam took a shaky inhale, scenting the air as best she could. This was the most alert she had been in days and she finally realized that her caretakers were not of the species she assumed. Well, she wasn't quite sure what she expected, but the scent of a vampire was not it. The other person was just that, human, though she reeked of vampire too. As much as her instincts told her this was the enemy, that she was in danger, she knew that wasn’t true. This vampire had been nothing but caring since she was brought here and she had certainly had a fair amount of chances to kill Sam before then. She was safe here, far safer than anywhere else in that moment.

“She grows stronger each day,” the vampire, Ava, continued, “Could you let the mongrels know, Darling? They may know of her, if they’d come take a look.”

“I will,” the American woman agreed, “Connor said he would drop by later, I’ll ask him then.”

“Will you ever stop fussing over them?” Ava’s voice held no annoyance, instead she was just watching Sarah with soft eyes. The human had been tracing the scars on her shoulders for minutes, something she had developed a habit of since getting closer with the vampire. It had been six months since they met, long since Sarah became a frequent, almost daily visitor of the big house in the forest. Estia was attached to her, excited to learn about life growing up as a human, and Ava herself had become quite fond of the woman too.

She wasn’t sure how she grew to trust the human so quickly. Maybe it was because Estia had no qualms about her, Ava trusting her daughter’s insight more than anyone’s; she had been with her for almost 40 years by then of course. Maybe it was because April and the wolves loved her, the promise that she had made respectable friends within the forest so she couldn’t be a threat. Ava supposed it could have been Sarah herself. Her behaviour, the way she instantly wanted to nurture and help anyone who needed it. A doctor through and through, Ava could tell, she just wanted to make people feel better. She had told Ava about her past, as if she thought opening up about her own trauma would make the vampire trust her more. Maybe it did, but she was still worried about Sarah learning her truth.

“They’re like little stories,” the human answered like she always did, “They tell me what you can’t, like how this one was inflicted by a dull blade; probably an old knife.”

“Smart girl,” Ava hummed, leaning into her touch as her fingers danced across her collarbone. She hadn’t felt this warm in almost a century, the heat of her body long since sapped by immortality. She hadn’t had much physical contact since becoming a vampire, definitely not by anyone as alive as Sarah. She had been surprised that the scent of her blood wasn’t always at the forefront of her mind, like so many elders had told her it would be when around a human. Instead, Ava was distracted by the gentleness of her touch, the warmth transferring to her own icy skin, and the care she took to be as delicate as possible. No one had been this attentive or caring in decades; Ava wasn’t sure how to react.

They were in Ava’s study, which was more of a library than anything. The walls were bookcases upon bookcases, covered in novels and nonfiction in every language imaginable. Sarah had been so excited when she realized Ava had a whole section dedicated to medical books, which she had told Sarah she could read at any time. She had been reading that day, curled up on the couch near the fireplace with Ava by her side. She only ever lit the hearth when Sarah was there, since neither her nor Estia needed the heat in their cold home. She didn’t mind it though, especially since it meant Sarah would stay for a large chunk of the day if the study was warm. It was a quiet, comforting escape from her cottage with Natalie and Autumn always there and April or the wolves asking to stop by. She loved her friends, she did, but sometimes she needed quiet time and Ava understood that the most.

Like so many times before, Sarah had gotten distracted when Ava passed her another book, catching her scarred hand before she could pull away. She was so fascinated by the vampire’s history, though she still seemed apprehensive to speak about it, and she wanted to know everything. She had been a psychiatry resident before she had to quit her job after her mother’s murder, so Sarah knew that Ava was hiding something and it was eating her away inside. She wanted to help, wanted the other woman to feel safe enough to trust someone; to trust her.

Ava didn’t protest when Sarah focused on her scars, she knew she meant no harm. Sarah was curious, that’s all, and Ava’s scars were a part of her eternal body. She had long since made peace with most of them and she certainly wouldn't complain about the attention. She trusted the human, she really did, but she wasn’t too sure if she trusted herself.

“Ava?”

Another hum was her only reply, though she did smile at Sarah when she went to brush a loose curl off her shoulder. She didn’t miss the way the vampire immediately stiffened when her fingers brushed her carotid however, and she couldn’t hide her own flinch at that. Still, when Ava didn’t make a move to pull away, Sarah let her hand gently rest against the left side of her neck, warm palm resting against the biggest scar there.

“You know I would never hurt you, right?”

“I feel like that’s a question I should be asking you,” Ava mumbled and the other woman knew she was deflecting. Sarah had long since inferred that this wound was how she died, since the vampire seemed void of any actual turning mark, but she never was able to get the answers from her. She didn’t want to push Ava if she wasn’t comfortable but she knew keeping it hidden for a hundred years wasn’t helping anyone.

“Why do you wish to know so badly?” Ava’s own hand came up to rest affectionately on the human’s cheek, “You’re a bit of a pain, you know that?”

“So you’ve told me,” Sarah smiled at her, knowing she was trying to distract her with the touch, “You would feel better if you talked about it.”

“I don’t… you shouldn’t have to hear the horrors of it all, Sarah. It’s something no one should ever have to endure, I wish to protect you from even the thought of it.”

“Ava… Please?”

“I-” the blonde sighed, “I’ve never talked about it, not out loud.”

“Not even with Estia?”

“Gods no, she may be older than you mentally but to me she is still a baby, my baby. She had her own traumatic turning, the last thing she needs is to know how much I endured before even having the relief of finally meeting death.”

“Ava, I’m sorry… You don’t-”

She shook her head, thinking for a moment before answering, “You asked and I do suppose it’s time I answer your questions. You deserve to know, though I will warn you it’s quite gruesome. I did not… have a pleasant end.”

“I didn’t think you did,” Sarah said apologetically, “Only if you trust me and feel comfortable, I would like to know.”

“Sarah, darling, I trust you more than anyone.”

***

Ava had been a nurse in a hospital in the poorest area of her hometown. She hadn’t wanted to become a nurse, rather she wanted to be a doctor, but female doctors just weren’t commonplace in the 1920’s. She spent the majority of her twenties working with women and children in poorhouses, coming to the aid of those who were harmed in war or domestic disputes. She was apart of a underground feminist movement in Cape Town as well, something her parents had long since stopped arguing with Ava about but hated all the same. She was reckless, they said, this would only hurt her reputation. How was she going to meet a respectable man to marry if she wouldn’t stop the suffragette nonsense? Little did they know, Ava had no interest in getting married, especially not to a man.

She was walking back from dropping her little sister off at some birthday party, Anikka had been so excited to give her friend a new teddy bear that Ava had helped her sew some little clothes for. The party would run for a few hours, so the woman figured she could kill some time by shopping for groceries and perhaps pick up a couple books to help Anikka learn to read.

It wasn’t even dark out, certainly not the time for a middle class, white woman to be too worried about walking around main street, though Ava realized she probably should have been more attentive. She was just passing between two stores, taking a familiar shortcut through an alleyway to avoid a group of soldiers doing a photo-op near a statue of the King. She didn't even have time to react when a rough hand grabbed her by the wrist, couldn’t bring herself to scream before another ice cold palm clapped over her mouth. The one thing she remembered before she blacked out was feeling the seam of her new coat ripping and the sharp pain of something jabbing into her shoulder.

When Ava woke up she was more than disoriented. The nurse in her said she must have hit her head at some point, as her eyes couldn’t comfortably adjust to the dim lighting and her mind was struggling to catch up. The room she was in was cold, empty except for a small cot pushed up against the wall and a bucket across the room that she didn't want to know the intended purpose of. She tried to get out, scrabbling at the rusty door hinges and tugging on the locked handle until her fingers bled. She cried, even though she hated herself for it, all she could do was cry and beg hoping her captors would hear her and have mercy.

Ava didn’t know how long she had been in that cold, damp room before someone showed up. She had cried herself to sleep at one point, curled up beside the door because the cot seemed too far away. She woke up when the door opened, hitting her in the back harshly. A voice chastised her for being in the way, demanding she stand and follow him. Ava tried to resist but was yanked to her feet, stumbling because she was beyond dehydrated and her head was spinning. She asked this man who he was, where he was taking her, and what day it was. She only got silence in reply, a harsh tug of her wrist almost landing her face first on the cold marble floor. That was when Ava realized she was barefoot, her coat and shoes were gone and her stockings had been ripped from the knees down. She was freezing, hands still bleeding from trying to escape, and she just wanted to go back to sleep. She wanted this to end before it got worse, she wasn’t sure what would happen to her but Ava assumed it wouldn’t be good.

Before long she was shoved into another room, the door slamming shut behind her. Ava assumed she was alone again, deciding to explore her new location since it was very different from her previous one. The room was decorated lavishly, way more modern than her current apartment that her father had bought her since she still refused to marry. A large piano was situated in the one corner of the room, overlooking a large curtained window that appeared to lead to a balcony. She ran an injured hand over the expensive leather of a comfortable looking couch, wondering who with all this money wanted anything to do with her. Sure Ava’s parents had money but she hardly believed they would pay any large sum for her ransom. Besides, these people appeared to have more money than her family ever would, so they probably didn’t need any ransom from her.

“Oh, you’ve finally calmed down; how lovely.”

Ava jumped at the deep tone, accented in a way that told her the man wasn’t from South Africa. English, she first assumed, and she turned to come face to face with a tall man who looked her father’s age. He was sitting in a chair near a fireplace, though it was not lit, and he had turned to look at Ava with amusement. What concerned her the most was his eyes, that tracked her anxious movements in a cat-like way. They were red, deeper in colour than the wounds of any injured person she had even seen. She wanted to scream, to run, but she feared for her life if she did.

“Now now, do not look so frightened, pet.” He stood, walking over to Ava even as she flinched away. A rough hand caught her face, squishing her cheeks as he gave her a once over with an unreadable expression. Ava had begun to cry silently, tears tracking down her already makeup-stained face and he wiped them away in distaste.

“So dramatic,” he crooned, “I hope you will learn to behave and keep yourself presentable in the future. Crying is unbecoming of a woman, especially one as pretty as you.”

“W-what… what do y-you want from me?”

“Oh, she speaks!” he laughed to himself, “What are you on about, pet?”

“I’m not you pet,” Ava spat in a sudden flare of rage, appalled at his behaviour towards her, “Is it money? Do you not have enough as it is? My family will not pay ransom for me, I hope you know.”

“Oh no, dear, you’ve got it all wrong,” Ava tried to fight off the hand that still had a hold of her but he only moved his hand down to wrap around her throat. He ignored the way her hands scrambled to tear his hand away, her nails not even making dents in his skin. The man grinned at her and if she had been able to Ava thought she would have screamed, where his incisors should have been were long, sharp teeth that could only be described as fangs.

“You, my pet, are mine. For eternity.”

***

“Is that when he…” Sarah was close to tears, holding tightly onto Ava’s hand. She saw the way her friend was shaking, whether it be out of fear of reliving her memories or anger at what had happened decades before. This was hard for her, Sarah felt horrible for even asking Ava to tell her what occurred.

“Gods no. Sarah, he kept me for over a year before his fangs ever broke skin.”

“What?”

“I was a walking blood bank for them…” she gestured to her countless scars inflicted by sharp objects, “They never bit me deep enough, not for the longest time. He said he would be the one to do it when the time came. They would cut me and collect my blood, sometimes he would… let them lick it off me instead.”

Anger flared in Sarah’s stomach at that, seeing how uncomfortable the memory made her. All she could do was stare at Ava, unsure of what to say. She just wanted to hug her in that moment, to hold her and promise no one would ever touch her again, but she didn’t want to overstep.

“It wasn’t all bad… they kept me well fed at least. I had to be of course, a malnourished person doesn’t produce good blood. My master,” she spat the title out like it burned, “He gave me everything a girl would have wanted back then. I had all the clothes and makeup and books I could want.”

“But you weren’t happy.”

“Of course not, I hated it there. I would pray for the day they would accidentally cut too deep or one of the fledglings would lose control and rip my throat out before he could stop them.”

“I’m sorry, Ava…” Sarah blinked away tears at the thought of everything she had had to endure, “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“I got my wish, though,” Ava laughed bitterly as she traced the largest scar, “That day… I thought it was the end.”

“What… happened?”

A fledgling had a knife, she was supposed to be collecting from me that day,” she answered, letting Sarah tug her own hand away from her neck. She gave the human a sad smile when she held her hand tightly, grateful for her comfort.

“She hit your carotid?”

Ava nodded, hiding a flinch at the memory, “I barely recall what happened except for the searing pain. There was so much blood, she was having trouble holding back and I could tell. I blacked out in seconds but the last thing I remember was collapsing into her arms and… I wish it had been the end. The next couple weeks were Hell compared to what had happened before.”

Sarah couldn’t help but ask, “Why did they wait until the last moment to turn you?”

“I was their toy… their pet, Sarah. They had me exactly where they wanted me for a year. They gave me just enough of their venom to keep me loyal and tied down, I couldn’t fight because my body wouldn’t let me. If they turned me I would have been more powerful and they couldn’t keep me a useful prisoner anymore.”

“Then why bother turning you? If you were already bleeding out and wouldn’t be what they wanted after?”

“He… said he couldn’t live without me. He wanted me to be his wife, I refused countless times. He was my master so I couldn’t leave but I refused to ever be his submissive in my afterlife. He tried, for decades this man tried to win my favour and still treated me like I was his. I would never accept his advances though, which angered him. He may have taken my life and my blood but there was no way in Hell that man was taking my body too.”

This was taking a big toll on Ava, though she couldn’t physically cry Sarah could see in her eyes that she wanted to. The human apologized softly, opening her arms without saying anything else. Ava hesitated but allowed herself to melt into the comfort, feeling safer than she ever thought she would again. She wasn’t sure why Sarah made her feel so safe, especially since Ava herself was naturally supposed to be a threat to her. Still, the way the woman held her close and brushed her hair gently behind her ear made Ava feel seen and cared for for the first time since 1920.

“He’ll never hurt you again, Ava.”

***

Natalie Manning was in her late 20’s in the very end of the Victorian era

She was married, an arranged marriage to the son of her parents’ long time friend

He was a doctor, very well respected and wealthy, but very apathetic

Natalie thought too much, he insisted

A woman should not think so much about science and she should never try to question her husband

Especially not when her husband was a doctor

The fact that Natalie showed interest in his work only angered him

She should be watching their child and preparing dinner for when he came home

He forbid her from entering his study, because she had been caught by him and the maids reading his books one too many times

(The fact that she was even literate was frustrating to him, he wanted her to be his inferior in everything. So given that she was so well read, he could not belittle her for it.)

Natalie and her friend had gone on a walk down to the river one day, while their children were under the care of their nanny

She had brought some of her husbands books, trying to explain to her friend what might be wrong with her

The friend had been very sad and lethargic since giving birth, female hysteria they said, but Nat thought there was a better explanation and a way to help

Unfortunately, one of the maids must have told her husband that she had taken the books

He followed them down to the river and cornered them

Yelling about how Natalie was a terrible mother and wife

How dare she steal his things, leave their children with the help, and have the audacity to think she could give sound medical advice

He ripped the books out of her hands, throwing them into the river

He struck her once, claiming she deserved it

Ordering her friend away, he explained his wife needed to be taught a lesson in obedience

Her friend was scared and ran, not one to challenge a man ever

Natalie tried to get away from him, but he had her backed towards the river’s edge

She begged for his forgiveness, even though it disgusted her, because she didn’t know how to get out of this

He shoved her a little too hard and it sent Nat backward down the riverbank

She hit her head on a rock and it knocked her unconscious

Her husband didn’t even try to save her and made no move to get help at all

Unable to keep her head above water, she drowned

That should have been the tragic end to it all

But Natalie could not move on

She dragged herself out of the water, hair soaked and matted with blood

She should have been freezing, her heavy gowns weighted down by the water they absorbed

But she didn’t feel anything

It took her... a while to realize she was dead

When she tried to pick up her shoes from the river bank and her hand went right through, she realized

A ghost

It tore her up

And she spent... a really long time by the river’s edge just crying

Sobbing because she made a mistake and paid the worst price

And now her dear son would grow up without a mother

It was all her fault

Time moves so different when you’re dead

She cried for years on the riverbank

Even after her body was found and her death labelled an accident

She couldn’t move on

Her heart was heavy with the weight of it

Countless stories were told about the ghost lady by the river, her waterlogged hair and ruined old dress

How she could be seen calling out for her son and her husband at night, the mantra of apologies falling from her blue lips

It had been over 100 years and things had changed drastically

Natalie watched people and animals come and go

She saw houses built and torn down

The change of eras

Everything was so different

She watched as children swam in the river, shrieking at the sight of a fish and chasing each other down the bank

The amount of times she had stopped a child from falling in and hurting their self was countless

She had quickly learned how to manipulate objects and interact with the human world

It did take a lot of energy

But she would never let anyone die the same way she did

In the early 2000’s there was a small cottage built by the river

No one else lived nearby and she saw countless families come and go during the summer months

She eventually decided she too could live there since they didn’t inhabit it all year long

It was her cottage, even if they didn’t know she was there

As the years went on ghost stories were less believable

No one paid mind to Natalie anymore, even when she made herself very clearly known

No one acknowledged her, blaming every sound and activity on the wind or the children, and Natalie was used to it

Until this strange young woman with impossibly curly hair and the saddest face moved in

She rarely spoke, if she did it was only to her funny orange cat

She was always nose deep in a medical textbook or her sketchbook

She must be very smart with how much she read

But she never slept and she often cried all night

Night terrors ruining what little rest she did get

Natalie admired her, worried about her

She must have experienced something horrible

Natalie knew exactly what that was like

She decided maybe she should make herself known, to this human, because she could trust her