The Big Bad Wolf ( Emiste )

[Rose Decumbry]

Her eyes glided over with punctual critique as she stood- no leaned; against a brick wall, in the city life of her home. London. Blue hues contrasted her pale skin and obviously rebellious attire. At least for her. A cigarette hung out the corner of her lip, as she went by unnoticed. Shocking for the one of the world’s most famous models, dolls whatever one was pleased to call her. Straightened hair fell over her shoulders, cascading down her shoulder blades. Something was in the air tonight, that much, she could tell. Rose would get to play, and how she loved to play. No weapons adorned her though, only a sharp mind and an agile body. A chin tilted highly, as Rose thought proudly of her. It wasn’t arrogance, not most of the time anyways. She flicked the lighter so that it sparks a flame; and stared at it longingly. Lately, she hadn’t been exactly right in the head. Romance, limelight, family issues, nothing was exactly the way it seemed.

Heavy lids lay closed slightly, before opening to find faces slurring past her. It almost seemed to fast; for even her heightened senses. Blinking repeatedly, she focused on one; one that had darkened hair. Appeared to be a soul she had since long forgotten. But her twin brother; she could never. Her eyes widened as she watched, suddenly in tune with the world once again. “Hell no.” her thickly coated British accent rang just for her ears alone. Always speaking in a manner where it was more to her then others; call her crazy it would make sense. A hum escaped her mouth; as she tried to recognize. The features were bewitchingly similar; almost enough to make her question her sanity. It wouldn’t be the first time though. Smiling with sweet cynical pleasure, Rose ground the death stick with her heel and headed off; keeping close tabs on the woman.

Could it really be Emiste? The twin of her late Coven leader? There wasn’t a way, it didn’t make sense. But then again, nothing ever made sense. Shouldn’t she be though, on a leash bound by Sevanni? But Sevanni too, had disappeared off the earth. With Hyde too. could it have it have been possible, that Emiste had been the one doing the deed, and killing off some of her most hated foe? It wasn’t Emiste though; the smell was that of a human. So there Rose stood, with an expression that screamed confusion and an utterance for some type of explanation. If that look alike replica wasn’t her, then why was a scent so similar to his lacing her nose? There was no possible way that Taru was alive; he was dead and she could have smelled it when she found out. But what was that scent that taunted her and tired to lure her into its traps? A perfectly arched eyebrow questioned further as she hung limply in the alley, nimble on her toes. Whoever had that scent, she could handle.

[Sadistic Nightmare]

God, why was she here? She thought to herself for the millionth time since driving across the boarder.

Why? Because she was masochistic, that's why. The reason automatically resounded in her brain. There couldn't be any other reason to return to London. The one and only reason to ever come back to this hell-hole would be to further torture her already tortured mind and soul.

So much had happened here. So much to forget. So much to remember.

And yet none of the faces she passed gave her so much as a glance. Or if they did it wasn't for the usual reasons. Last time, though, she'd been walking bound to the side of an owner. Now she walked free. As she had become accustomed to since Sevanni....well, that was another memory altogether. Another torture. She didn't want to admit to herself that she missed him. That she missed deeply the one person she could in all reality never really have. That she missed anyone at all. Love? Probably not, but then what was love really? Just another emotion that eventually caused pain.

Emiste preferred to skip the process and dive right into the pain. Which is why she was here. London. There were things that needed attending to.

So, she walked down the London street, dressed fairly conservatively, for her. Nothing that screamed for attention - and no one gave it to her. Except for one. She was aware that someone had been following her for a few minutes now. But they hadn't drawn too near, and their aura was not yet threatening. Perhaps she was simply too on alert.

Then the wind picked up and she caught the familiar scent of a woman. A woman who definitely should not be following her. But if she insisted.... a feral grin spread across Emiste's downcast face. After all, she was here to pursue her own torment, why not share the experience with her follower?

Emiste ducked into a narrow side alley as it suddenly appeared and leaned casually against the side of the wall, waiting. She hadn't planned on having a playmate tonight. But, then plans never did go according to.....well....plan.

[Rose Decumbry]

So it was her. The slightly insane look in her bewitching eyes, it was enough to make not so fond memories come back. The Queen of Torture; they called. Rose was facing her right this instant, without fear. Emiste; the one Sevanni kept next to Phoenix. It was amusing, to say the least. Rose looked her from head to toe, taking every aspect in. fairly, interesting, to say the least. Lips pursed slightly, as Rose thought that to herself, wondering what fun and games would be bought out of this run in tonight. A head full of blond hair tilted slightly, an amused expression showering her face. “Never thought I’d see you without good ole’ Sevanni dragging behind you,” it wasn’t a snide remark, but one they both knew was true.

No one liked being the third wheel, and ever since Phoenix captured Sevanni’s rotten heart; there had never really been a place for Emiste. Unless that was, she was in a torture chamber with pretty utensils and what not. Slowly and not in any way suspicious, she fingered the lighter in her jacket pocket. Was it possibly that Emi dearest didn’t like fire? A subtle eyebrow cocked upwards as she took her in again. It was almost impossible to actually believe Emiste was still alive. Much less sane. Breathing out slowly, she knew she wasn’t much one to talk about sanity. The vampire tuned out the other surroundings, even the slight stroking of the orange bic lighter. A twitch of her pixie like nose, let on to no alternative motives.

“What brings you here? To London, I mean. Haven’t seen you in, oh, right after he died.” Her tone was more serious, with a hint of teasing insanity. Even Rose couldn’t explain with the slightest notion why. Call her territorial, but she was, she didn’t like certain species and people who had that species linked in their blood; on her homeland. Her eyes searched Emiste’s face, without restrictions or crossing boundaries. She wasn’t stupid though. Torturing and causing pain was Emi’s favorite game. And by the looks of it; Emiste wasn’t into playing board games this particular night. It began to make her wonder, would she get to use a pretty lighter like she did a year ago?

[Sadistic Nightmare]

So it was her. Emiste took her in as Rose obviously did the same. Her late brother's right hand vamp was different somehow. Not that it really mattered much to her, they'd never been exactly bosom buddies.

“What brings you here? To London, I mean. Haven’t seen you in, oh, right after he died.”

Such casual words from the mouth of a long ago enemy. Or was it really that long ago? Time kind of blurred after the 300th year of walking the earth undead.

Emiste cocked her head to the side and studied her, unnervingly staring the other woman in the face. Something was different, stronger, more confident and darker even.

"Hello, Rose." she said slowly. Insanity? Was there something broken in that pretty little head of her's, Emiste wondered. Well, it didn't look half bad on the girl. But then, Emi had always had a special spot in her would-be heart for those of the deranged category.

She didn't move a muscle. Content to continue the faux civilities for the moment. She had other things to worry about. She studied Rose a moment longer, just enough to stretch the awkwardness of the silence and stillness between them so that it was noticeable.

"I could ask the same of you. But if you're worried about me disrupting some piece of your territory here, you needn't be. Obviously a lot has changed since we last met...." her eyes roamed again over Rose's form and she smiled darkly. "And..." she dropped her voice, "you wouldn't believe me anyway, now would you?"

Normally, she'd have had her nails embedded in the girl's delicious skin by now. Normally she'd have been yearning to make her bleed. But not tonight. The world in which she lived and thrived would have to wait for one night. Then she could forget all of this again for another five years and return to the life she'd accepted as her version of "normal" and had learned to revel in and revere above all else.

But tonight - tonight for once, she would not kill, she would not hunt, and she would not instigate the woman before her. If there was bloodshed, for once, Emiste would not be the start of it.

The idea of it pained her. By restraining herself from inflicting physical pain, she would be mentally in duress. And really, that's why she was here - so her mind could hurt for a night. One night only, every five years, for the past 320 years.

And of course, Rose had to appear tonight to test her will. Figured.

[Rose Decumbry]

It was almost as if a bomb dropped; when Emiste made no sudden movement; had no weapon decorating her hand ready to slice through porcelain skin and cut her up. A shocker indeed, one that she didn’t know if she appreciated. It was out of character for the sadistic being. It worried her. The way she spoke her name, it was almost kind and gentle. With an underlying tone of broken. Both eyebrows raised this time, and the hand moved from her lighter, to cross over her chest. What was happening with Dear Emiste? This much, she wanted to know. She wanted to see inside that dark haired mind and pry. Of course, with best intentions out of her ice cold heart. Maybe she wasn’t the only one quietly suffering. Her mind flashed and seemed to contract at the thought of not being alone. Something she was so very much. “I love here,” she said with a soft tone. “Worrying about my territory? Oh no, I’d only be worried if I could smell some type of weapon on you. Which, from what my nose tells me; you don’t.” she could be very well contradicting herself at the moment. Emiste was the quick thinker, always the one dancing around the ring and never standing still. It was disturbing to know someone who knew the way a human mind worked in combat.

“A lot has changed. One you haven’t shot at me yet,” she pointed to her shoulder with a soft smile; from when the whole showdown between Adam, Emiste, Rose, Hyde, Sevanni, Aubrey, Phoenix, and Ali had happened. Opposing sides coming to a neutral draw, was it? “And you’re broken,” she said softly, looking at Emiste through her darkly coated lashes. “You’re a broken, cynical, disturbing vampire.”

It was true. Even just looking at her, without really inspecting her, Rose could see blatantly. It was a heartfelt feeling emitting from her. She knew, on some basic level what was happening. “You know how I know that?” a slight crack rung in the last of her voice.

“Because I am too. it seemed like everything was better when everyone was alive.” It must have been. It was the only thing that made sense. “I’ll tell you my sob story, you tell me yours type thing.” She guessed. Rose lowered her voice, almost making her tone and accent undecipherable. “But then again, my sob story is only a sob story to me. I bet yours is worse.” She looked up to Emiste, to stare straight into the black of her pupil. “So why don’t you talk first, and I listen because I’m not letting you leave until you say something about what’s eating you,” she reached one finger out to point at Emiste’s chest. “In there.”

They both shared a sad past, one they couldn’t erase. She didn’t even know what her past was; mainly because she was so ashamed of it. Who could say with a smile and proud bravado they killed their family? Probably not even the hell raised child in front of her. Rose blinked softly, awaiting an answer.

[Sadistic Nightmare]

Rose was talking, apparently also content with the standstill between them.

“You’re a broken, cynical, disturbing vampire.”

Emiste grinned with the words. Rose didn't mean them as a compliment. But for the same reasons that suffering for everyone else was pleasure for her, the words amused and delighted her. Of course she was -- that's what she had set out to be. And that is what the majority of the vampire population did not, and could not, understand.

Rose kept babbling and Emi found her mind drifting as it was prone to do when she was bored.
“So why don’t you talk first, and I listen because I’m not letting you leave until you say something about what’s eating you, In there.”


And that snapped her attention back forcefully enough to almost make her lunge at the other vampire. Who the hell did she think she was? Pretending to be all nicey nice and going all concerned psychologist on her. Emiste had been to enough shrinks, all of them consequently dead.

But she restrained herself. It was part of the game she played with herself - with everyone. When she wanted to, she could control herself, she made sure of that by playing this game of self-denial. Because really, she'd love nothing more than to rip Rose's throat in half and watch her bleed dry.

She hadn't said one word in response the whole time. Allowing Rose to go on her sensitive, "let's pretend we don't hate each other and exchange life's woes" spiel. Her eyes were slightly narrowed as she considered what response she wanted to make.

Finally, she spoke

"Well...if you won't let me out of the alley......" her voice was threatening as she pushed away from the wall and stood straight, arms crossed in front of her, chin tilted up in defiance. This was part of the game - playing along, she loved doing the unexpected. She loved when body language and verbal words contradicted themselves. She knew her stance was defiant and knew Rose would not expect what was coming next.

"Then how can I show you? Because telling requires showing."

Emiste grinned ferally. She was playing chess - and playing it riskily. And she loved it. Games were her thing after all. Your turn, Rose - she thought.

[Rose Decumbry]

She did have genuine concern for all people; whether Emsite would accept it or not. More of a fighter that loved, she could contradict herself. Rose watched Emiste lean off the wall, her body staying nicely relaxed. Appearance though; was deceiving. She could react within a split second of Emiste dear moving and deciding she wanted to attack. Rose didn’t want a fight, not entirely the anyways. Her blue eyes stayed trained on her every movement. If Emi dearest wanted to play a game, Rose could play if not completely tear her down. A nice flick of the lighter would do more than any weapon would; unless it caused decapitation. To indicate she wasn’t one to bring trouble unto her, but wasn’t about to let herself be defenseless, Rose withdrew a cigarette as well as a lighter. The flame shot out to ignite the end of her stick, but do nothing more. Smoke evaporated from it, and she blew through her nose. Rose held Emiste’s eyes, but that was all. “I don’t want trouble. Seriously. Whether you believe my advances or not, I didn’t come here to fight.”

She blew smoke out like a bull again, and relaxed her stance. It did look relaxed after all, but if Emiste dearest were to pounce, or make any suspicious movements, Rose would be ready to defend herself. They hadn’t seen each other in oh, a few months, almost a year, was it? So she wouldn’t have known that Rose wasn’t a defenseless little bitch anymore, but rather capable of taking down the one Sevanni cherished in his sick, twisted demented laboratory where he enjoyed torturing Hyde. Had Emiste killed Hyde as well?

Anger flickered in her mentally, but she didn’t show it on her face. “I think I may have an idea what you’re going through. Like you gave up everything for one little thing in the world; and you want some damn compensation?” the way her accent came out, the word damn sounded nothing like it. Perks of having a British accent. “That in some crazy, twisted, abnormal way, this would bring them back? Because I’ve done that, Emiste. I’ve sat on their graves, and prayed for them to come back. Begged them to come back. But they never do come back, do they? Because it’s reality, and reality isn’t fair. Is that what you’re thinking?”

[Sadistic Nightmare]

Rose flashed the lighter and Emiste knew what it meant. It was clearly a warning - she didn't want a fight, but she wouldn't turn one down either. The blonde in front of her was pretty, but she wasn't stupid. Emi had to give her credit for that.

Still the fire didn't make her flinch or give her concern. When most vampires would have taken a step back, Emiste took the smallest step forward. It would have been imperceptible to humans, but Rose would catch it. And she really didn't even do it consciously with any intent of malice -- interestingly enough. It was sort of a reflex reaction born of her masochistic nature.

“I think I may have an idea what you’re going through. Like you gave up everything for one little thing in the world; and you want some damn compensation? That in some crazy, twisted, abnormal way, this would bring them back? Because I’ve done that, Emiste. I’ve sat on their graves, and prayed for them to come back. Begged them to come back. But they never do come back, do they? Because it’s reality, and reality isn’t fair. Is that what you’re thinking?”

Emiste gave a cynical kind of grin followed by a sort of half snicker. Oh yeah, everyone had their stories. Emiste wasn't dumb enough to think hers was any worse than anyone else's. The difference between her and everyone else was, they let the memories haunt them. Emiste haunted the memories. And used them to haunt others.

"You think you have it all figured out. That I've lived my life based on getting some sort of vengence because life isn't fair and I at one point expected it to be? You're so wrong."

Yeah there were graves involved - but she hadn't sat on them mourning their loss. She didn't come here to mourn, she came here to remember.

"And if you've done that -- if you've prayed to some supernatural existence far away in a land of make believe -- well, that was a waste of your time. Because no one heard you, little Rose. I on the other hand, I'm glad. I dance on the graves I've come here to visit. It's the ones still living that cause me pain. And THAT is the difference between me and you. You grieve and mourn and take your vengeance out on others because you want them to feel as badly as you do. I rejoice and revel in the life I've chosen and I am taking every enjoyment I want out of life that I was denied in my human life."

She took one step closer, her words growing more heated and passionate as she spoke. Did she inflict pain upon herself and others? Yes. Did she enjoy it? yes Did that make her evil? Perhaps. In Emiste's mind it all depended on perspective. She enjoyed it, and to her, that was all that mattered. And it was a damn shame others didn't share her joys. Perhaps there would be a bit less, woe-is-me-ism in the world if people.....vamps, wolves, whatever.....would learn to take pleasure out of their sufferings.

"Now. If you'd like to really understand like you think you already do - you can follow me."

Fuck - what? What had she just said? She immediately wanted to take it back. But, that was part of the game - she'd spoken it aloud and to Emiste, her words were binding. She hoped Rose would decline. This was all a bit too theraputic for her tastes.

But what the hell? It was one night....tomorrow everything would go back to normal. Well, her version of normal.

[Rose Decumbry]

Rose dragged on her cigarette heavily, knowing what her pretty little past time was. Meant for humans. Meant to kill them. meant to be a poison to them personally, but contribute to the grand scheme of secretly killing everyone. Except those who couldn’t be killed. She couldn’t be killed. Rose took in Emiste again, without moving her eyes from Emiste’s. They had a right to be scared of each other. Emiste had a right to be scared of her, because of how much of a threat she was. Rose could peer into your head, pick apart a weakness and move on that alone. Not to mention her size was a huge advantage. What other vampire with the petite and legally dwarf body could move and fight like her? No one. Rose had the right to be afraid of Emiste because of what she already knew. She enjoyed torturing, and had no shortage of weapons to exploit that. And she had a nice old time with Sevanni, and none could tell what that had lead to Emiste’s sickly demented head. Each was a threat in their own way, each one posing a dangerous downfall for them. They’d destroy themselves somehow in the end, whether they knew it or not. Rose did, she just hated to admit it.

Her eyes focused on Emiste as she spoke. It was almost too difficult for her not to laugh, because they were even more opposite then she had expected. Rose didn’t believe in God, hadn’t for the longest time. If there had been one, she would have prayed over and over again and pleaded for redemption. She would have been stricken down by the forces of nature, if there had been some form of existence. If there was a God, it never would have pressed such a fate down on her. Her thoughts were kept private and off her face though. She didn’t need the tables turned and have Emiste start pondering her reasoning, and her sanity and the like. She’d break down and expose a weakness not even her dear Great Niece saw often.
“I guess another difference between us, is I’m the one in the endless cycle.” She mused quietly, almost too inarticulate for Emiste to hear. But she would. They always did. She couldn’t quite figure out who ‘they’ were yet, but whenever she wished something not to be heard, it was always heard. Always questioned. Rose of course, was used to it. By now she should have been.

"Now. If you'd like to really understand like you think you already do - you can follow me."

Rose’s eyes rose off her head it seemed. Had she already gotten a nice chink in Emiste’s mental armor? It would have been a first, and one she would definitely not forget. She could see confusion in Emiste’s face, but it quickly washed away. It was interesting, to say the least. Emiste was letting her into her personal life, when not even a year ago it felt like; they were trying to kill each other. “I’d love to,” she purred. Her tone was light, but had some under toned nostalgia. A little dance on each other’s toes before someone slammed down on the others; breaking ever single gentle bone.

[Sadistic Nightmare]

Great. Of course Rose would trot along happily with her. Intruding where she ought not and where no one had before.

It's JUST one night. Emiste reminded herself yet again.

But the cost of this one night? What would it be?

"Fine." she said coolly, "But if you ever tell anyone anything about this, I'll spend the rest of my life hunting only you. And yes, I can see you're not defenseless, but you'll slip up - and it'll be your undoing." she spoke low and darkly, "In other words -- we were never here, this never happened, and whatever kind of truce this is between us at the moment -- it won't exist tomorrow. If you're okay with that, follow me." she finished.

The alley was narrow, but not so narrow as to disallow one petite vampire to slip past another. Emiste squared her shoulders and with raised chin brushed past Rose and back into the bustle of the streets.

Rose had found her when she was nearly to her destination, so the walk was not far. A few streets over, was an old, abandoned cemetery. Rose had called that one at least. But like she had told Rose, Emiste wasn't going to cry and mourn and beg for life to turn out differently.

Emiste didn't look over her shoulder once. If Rose was following or right in step beside her, Emiste didn't notice or care. She wanted to get the night over with and move on.

They were there, the old stones that no one tended to anymore. The field grown up high in patchy places. Third row, ninth stone. They were there, as they would be for eternity. The stones read:

Lorien Mikael L'Marque
Savante Lisette L'Marque
Makenlei Havana L'Marque
Emiste Arquette L'Marque

all with deceased dates of September 23, 1690.

It was always a weird feeling, seeing her own name on a stone. As if she were dead. Well, technically she was, but as if she were not still roaming about the earth. It was morbid really - and not completely displeasing. But odd nonetheless.

Emiste stood and stared at the names for a while, focusing on the memory of that day. Without turning to see if Rose was beside her or not she spoke softly. Probably the closest to a gentle voice she had ever used and truly meant it.

"So there lies, supposedly as I am obviously not buried under 8 feet of soil, an Emiste. The first two names, my wretched parents and the third my never to be seen or heard from again sister. But......" she looked up with a glint in her eye. Even revealing her own history was a game -- she wouldn't give up all the pieces so directly.

She had sensed Rose's prescence - and now stared directly into those eyes. "But....where, my dear Rose, where is the name of my beloved brother? Did he not die with the rest of us? Or perhaps.... he never existed at all?"

She smiled slightly. Not with malice, nor with glee, but with the slightest hint of amusement. Because surely there was a shock to follow, and Emiste did enjoy a bit of shock and awe.

Even if it were at her own expense.

[Rose Decumbry]

The original destination for Rose was actually nowhere close to where she wound up, but things never truly went according to plan. On the other side of town, morbidly close to where she resided actually, was her family’s crypt. Literally. An entire underground liar resided, where the beginning of the Decumbry Line started, to its last living members. Supposedly, her direct family. Even beautiful little Rose had to be dead. Appearance was key, keeping up tabs that the most prestige family in Canterbury at the time; was dead. So she wasn’t surprised when Emiste’s name was up there, scribed in a tombstone. But where was Taru’s? The original Coven leader, Rose had obediently followed and stepped to the plate when he- Rose stopped her trip down memory lane, keeping her face like the stone used to make Emiste’s tombstone.

What was weird though, was the sister. Emiste, a sister? A look alike, hopefully not a role model. A sister and a brother. Both presumably dead. Rose still believed dear Taru to be alive. It just felt like he was, her old Coven leader still felt alive in the pit of her core. Nothing crossed her eyes though, nothing. But a voice passed through her ghost like lips. “Do you ever miss him?” and by the him, she meant Taru. The constant manipulation of her mind on occasions. A lonesome stroll in the park, or if Rose passed the street where they first met up; first planned their werewolf friendly coven. The Nightshade Coven. His idea, she would co-lead it. “I do.” Rose continued to stare at the tombstone of the small family, feeling Emiste move, and look up as well. It was like they were anticipating each other’s moves, two steps ahead of each other.

Emiste spoke, and Rose’s eyes grew slightly wide. What she was proposing, that her entire memory had been a hoax. That Taurus hadn’t existed. That if this was true, she really was insane. It wasn’t humanly possible. She had physically seen him, teased, taunted, and touched him. Rose couldn’t wrap her head around the thought he wasn’t real. “That’s not possible. He must have been buried somewhere else, or still in Sevanni’s liar. Dead or alive.” She leveled Emiste’s eyes with her own, peering deep.

[Sadistic Nightmare]

“That’s not possible. He must have been buried somewhere else, or still in Sevanni’s liar. Dead or alive.

Emiste saw the expected surprise, and then the slightest glimmer of possibility, followed by doubt all radiating from Rose's eyes. Her mind toyed with the idea of catching onto that brief moment that Rose had considered it possible and running with it - bending Rose's own mind to the breaking point and then very neatly snapping it in half. Ah, mental torment....

But she stuck to her original reasons. If nothing else, Emiste was loyal. To herself and to those who earned her respect. So she would loyally stick to not tormenting anyone but herself tonight. Perhaps that was why she was tolerating this charade between them. Tormenting herself with spending the evening by the side of one she would on any other night have gladly and violently murdered. But not tonight.

Emiste cocked her head to the side and gave that subtle, eerie smile. "Oh Rose, how awful it must be to live with the limitations of impossibilities. Anything is possible, Rose. Or have you not seen enough of the world yet to know this?"

She straightened and turned her head back to the stone. "Regardless of whether or not it is possible, I promise you my parents never had a son......" she snapped her eyes back to Rose's.

"But I did."

[Rose Decumbry]

A sickening sensation, the dull of emotion crossed through Rose. She had sure enough seen Taru, been able to plot with him. He was real. He was a vampire. And now he was dead. Or was he dead? She couldn’t even tell darkness from when her eyes were closed, sometimes it felt like. The old vampire, that had been like a loving and caring older brother, couldn’t still be alive. No. Rose had been there when Sevanni had sent Phoenix his phalange. She had been there. She had seen the dried blood. But then again, it was just a finger. Rose kept her inner battle clearly off her face, watching Emiste closely. So there hadn’t been a movement to try and attack her yet, she wouldn’t put it past either of them though. They both hated each other for one way or another. Rose was suddenly starting to favor her lighter. She blinked, shaking herself clear of thoughts, and focusing nothing. It was when she was at her best, her highest point. But also at her most vulnerable, because when she was thinking of nothing, her mind was exposed. Her mind was an open wound. Rose looked at Emiste as she spoke.

She bit her tongue to keep from retaliating, but decided against holding her opinion. “Not everything is possible,” she mused quietly, her voice barely above the wind. She was about to speak again, and even opened her mouth and forced words out. “Because if they did,” she stopped short, clamping her mouth shut. Rose would not be discussing the past werewolf love she had. Because he was dead. She wasn’t yet healed. She would never be healed, and having a nice, eternally bleeding, fatal blow open for Emiste, wasn’t a smart move. She was pretty, rich, famous but certainly not dumb. Years of being stabbed in the back had proven that much. “But if you believe the world is capable of unexplainable miracles, by all means.” She may not have been as old as Emiste, but she had a completely different view on life based on her experiences.

Emiste believed anything was possible. Rose was a realistic person, raised in a realistic society, taught realistic morals and beliefs. If what Emiste was proposing, that anything was possible; she’d have Anthony back in her arms, holding and caressing her with the sweet lullabies of yesterday. Holding her and telling her the nightmare was over. Her lower lip trembled slightly, as she finally let a vulnerable side show. “If anything was possible I wouldn’t be contemplating death sometimes, because I am alone. I’m not like you Emiste. Obviously. I can’t live being alone, I can’t live,” she waved her hands over the grave, not to point specifics, but a general ideal of death. “When all my living loved one lefts have started a life, and all my dead loved ones haunt me endlessly.” Rose hung her head in shame, slightly before picking it up. “So nothing is possible for me.” she couldn’t explain why she was speaking out to someone, seeing as how they could use such a term as blackmail. A term to bring her down onto her knees, and watch helplessly as Emiste swung the scythe to take off her head. “So, I guess I’m saying, or as you put it, I haven’t seen the world enough to know.”

Which was an understatement. She’d been around the world more than enough times, and seen more than she needed to. But she hadn’t really seen it, she guess Emiste was getting at, just saw it. And it had just confused her more, as her words came out. “Are you saying, that Taru, was your son?” her eyebrows were risen high. Now this, was an interesting twist in a story.

[Sadistic Nightmare]

“If anything was possible I wouldn’t be contemplating death sometimes, because I am alone. I’m not like you Emiste. Obviously. I can’t live being alone, I can’t live when all my living loved one lefts have started a life, and all my dead loved ones haunt me endlessly. So nothing is possible for me. So, I guess I’m saying, or as you put it, I haven’t seen the world enough to know.”

Emiste listened in silence. It was really pathetic sometimes, to hear the humanity in another vampire's voice. Loved ones? Emiste hardly knew the term. Save one or two souls, the rest of her so-called loved ones, hadn't really ever loved or been loved in return. They had been confined to social expectations and patterns of behavior. That was why she delighted in her nature, is was out of the norm and away from the expectations of others. What fun was being tied down to those expectations?

Emiste swallowed the disdain she felt for pity and forced herself not to be cruel or biting with her next words, "So haunt them back. I'm not saying that there ARE miracles and obviously you can't reanimate the truly dead. Anything is possible, but you have to MAKE it so." she shook her head in slight awe. Did no one really GET it?

"You're a fucking vampire. You're not human, so stop wallowing in some pathetic human emotion and let go." Emiste leaned in towards Rose's ear and lowered her voice, "I know you've got it in you. There's some bad ass somewhere in there. And some hint of a psychosis too. You and I....we're not so different. You just choose to keep rejecting your nature, and I've embraced mine."

She straightened again and inhaled deeply of the night. Breathing was overrated, but sometimes, it was enjoyable just to smell the night air and feel it burn in her lungs like fire.

Her blue eyes slitted in mischievous amusement as she watched for those expressions to cross Rose's face again, "You choose to believe that nothing inexplicable ever occurs, so you tell me. Is he? Could that be possible? And if it is possible - then what does that say for those other impossibilities you hold in your mind? Could they not too be possible?" She paused and listened to a seemingly nothing for a moment before continuing.

"But, if we were having this conversation - which in itself should be impossible - based on the idea that anything IS possible.....then yes, Tarus would be my son."

Those words! How long had it been since she'd said those words outloud?

5 years she mentally answered her own wonderings. Every 5 years, she returned here to remind herself of that. Of how she became what she was today. Not to mourn it, no. But Emiste felt there were things to be learned from memories. Granted she would forget all else, her humanity, her human life, even how to love. But never would she allow herself to forget this one thing, because it made her who she was. And if everyone else hated or feared her for who she was - well, that was their loss. Emiste counted herself blessed to be freed from the confines of normalcy and she would have looked upon those who still behaved as if they had some list of rules to follow with pity - if she could feel it. It was that which separated her from Rose and others like her. She didn't expect them to understand, and they didn't. Rose was no exception, obviously - standing here before her and pouring out her broken heart to Emiste. But in the end, it would make no difference who told what tonight. They would both leave here the same, Emiste was sure of that.

[Rose Decumbry]

Normally, she’d take a different tactic of approaching such a manner. But it wouldn’t matter, not really. Emiste perhaps would go on and tell whatever little new partner in torture all about her troubled issues. Rose wouldn’t mind. She’d rather enjoy it. It’d give her a reason to attack first, and move out of a troubled mind. Could she kill Emiste though, after tonight? It was possible; she’d killed even closer ones to her. A mental chagrin came on her lips, but she suppressed it down. Her ears as well as her face picked up, as Emiste’s voice resonated. She could only wait to listen to what she was going to say. It was something she was expecting Emiste to have said. Along the lines of what she had needed to hear. A little gentle push to nudge her between sane and insane; Rose could be the fine balance.

Emiste was right. Along some lines. Rose was considered “Bad Ass” in the old days, when vampires were just starting to grow in percents and she was one of the ‘older’ but not one of the ancients. She had a nice run in those days. A lady during the hours she needed a ravenous murderer and heartless son of a bitch when the sun went down. Where had that Rose traveled off to? Where was she? She was residing in the pit of her mind, waiting for a plot to get out. And she did, have a psychiatric disorder as far as she was concerned. Rose did have hallucinations, and delusions; his name was Anthony. But now that her morbidly relative vampire mentioned it, they were similar. Similar in a sense that they had a twisted mind that could take them far enough. Emiste chose to let it take her places. Rose was keener on keeping a tight leash on it, to repel against what had happened one hundred and six years ago. She knew she was a vampire. And breathed and basked in the essence knowingly. She loved being a vampire on occasion that was. There were some downfalls to such specie. The fact that she could never walk into sunlight again, because she’d burst into little cinders. And too many people would want to see that. And it would also expose specie that remained a secret since the beginning of time. The myths of the frightful vampires would become factual, and steps would be taken to make their lives hell. A living hell. The government would take their blood try to make an undefeatable army. Nothing good could come out of any species being disclosed. One went with the other. Rose blinked, as Emiste’s voice bought her back to reality.

So the rumors were confirmed. Tarus was Emiste’s son. One could have guessed it though; it went along with the sickening twist in the sickening plot. “Taru..But...you two are nothing alike.” The saying of child and parent were alike, did not compliment this situation. How was it possible? “Who’s his father?” she instantly asked, regretting nothing that came out of her mouth. To Emiste it, must have been a human emotion; but she was feeling curiosity.