Prologue


Etta stood in front of the large mirror, staring. Anyone who had every met Henrietta Radcliff was enthralled by her beauty. Her appearance even before the change was exquisite. She held an allure so captivating that even the strongest of men would succumb to their knees.

As a young girl she was not shy of suitors. This had troubled both her brother and father. She could clearly remember how often her brother had arrived home with bruised knuckles and a rumpled vest after getting into it with one of the men from the village. Her brother Sebastian was not one to tolerate chauvinistic behaviour, especially when regarding his little sister. He was a true gentleman, a rarity of the village, and Etta often found herself envying his future wife.

Their father on the other hand thought their mother had coddled Sebastian too much. He was a strong and proud man and showed as much. He believed affection was a sign of a weak man, and thus his relationship with both his children was virtually non-existent. He may have been there to provide both warmth and shelter to his children, but not the emotional connection that the two siblings craved.

It was her father's demeanour that had made Etta cautious in the way of romantic entanglements. Although her brother was kind, she knew that it was not the way of most men. A large majority of the men from the village were selfish in the way of their desires, and Etta watched the way their lustful eyes intimately traced over the curve of her form every time she would venture into the village for supplies. They wished to possess her body not her soul. Etta did not want to end up like her mother a shell of a person longing for the affection of a man who would never truly return it.

Etta abhorred her mother's weak character and held no remorse when she was finally carted off to Bedlam to be treated for hysteria. At times Etta believed that there must be something wrong with her, how could any child not feel empathy for the very being that brought them into this world.

Sebastian however had been beside himself; he had begged their father not to be so rash, even offering to be their mothers' caretaker. Etta clearly remembered how Sebastian had screamed at her not being able to understand how his own sister could stand by so idly and allow such an atrocity to occur. But Etta remained quiet, even when she felt the sting of his hand on her right cheek.

Truthfully Etta could not even admit it out loud, but she was terrified. Terrified that if their father could do that to his own wife what would he do to a disobedient daughter. So that is what she became: obedient, docile, weak. Someone who wouldn't challenge the status quo, the perfect daughter. Her brother never looked at her the same and her mother never returned.

Three days after her eighteenth birthday Etta's father announced her engagement. It shouldn't have been much of a surprise, Sera long ago gave up on marrying for love. But she always held out hope, hope that one day her father would recognize that she was more than just a brood mare. It was a silly fantasy that quickly became just that when her brother abandoned his duties and fled to sail across the Americas. It brought so much shame to the Radcliff household and when their father found that his sole heir was gallivanting across the high Sea like some common pirate his health quickly declined.

Etta's anger for her brother was rivalled with that of jealousy. She hated that he had left her to deal with their boorish father alone, but she also could not help but feel envious that he was free. Free of the responsibility of the Radcliff name.

William Albany was a kind man; Etta knew from the moment she met him that he would make an acceptable husband. He classically handsome with a strong jaw and salt and pepper hair. She did not love him nor did he love her, but there was a comfortableness that satisfied both their needs. Marriages had been founded on a lot less. Etta found herself quite lucky that she was to marry a man as courteous as William Albany.

Even on their wedding night he was patient and caring. But she knew she would never truly love him. Not in the way that mattered. Etta found herself going through the motions and even after the birth of their daughter Etta could not help but feel wronged, that she was cheated out of some grand adventure. She loved her daughter but longed to be set free from the chains of society.

What Etta hadn't realized was that she would abandon one chain for the enslavement of another.

***********************

2018

Etta rubbed her lips removing the remnants of her meal. Looking around she scrunched her nose up in distaste. New York City still smelt the same even after 80 years the pungent smell of sweat and urine clung to the air. She ran her fingers through her long black hair her face was now flushed with colour proof that she recently fed. She looked to the left of what remained of her meal.

A fat man, balding but trying to prove otherwise. What was left of his hair was combed backwards with some type of mousse, his shirt too tight clung to his form. What was once white now speckled with a crimson red. Etta was never usually this messy with her pray, but this man awoken the beast within. She may be a predator, but this sickly creature that now lay at her feet was a monster.

Leaving her apartment that night Etta hadn't anticipated killing. But when she came across this filth she knew it was time to let her beast out.

While walking past Central Park Etta couldn't help but get the whiff of desire. It wasn't uncommon Humans tended to satisfy their needs anywhere they could, but this was different. There was also an underlining smell of fear that was so forceful it nearly knocked her over.

This piped the interest of Etta's beast she soon found herself seeking out the scent. What she saw before her had her monster clawing to the surface, there before her stood a man and below him a girl no older that thirteen. She knew what he intended to do; she had been alive long enough to know the cruelty of men.

She couldn't hold back her vision became clouded, clawing and scraping she watched the life drain from his eyes. Her beast purred in satisfaction as true fear could be seen in his last moments. He had even urinated. Pathetic.

Now that her beast was satisfied Etta looked down towards the girl. Her breathing was even and shallow as she lay unconscious. She was glad that she hadn't witnessed her assailant executions, she knew that this girl would have many obstacles to overcome after this night. But fanged monsters plaguing her dreams was not going to be one of them.

Picking the girl up with ease she carried her to the nearest Church. Hospital were a no go, too much security. That was something Etta loathed, there was no privacy in this modern age. Everyone knew everything about one another, making it even more difficult for creatures such as Etta to hide their true nature.

She had to be careful though, despite Church's being considered a Sanctuary they were not always welcome to her kind.

Gargoyles.

They were not just a decorative feature despite what humans may believe. They were much more, a gatekeeper against evil.

Proving just that. They began to hiss and cry as Etta approached the doors. She fell to her knees, trying her best to maintain the weight of the unconscious girl in her arms. Her eyes and ears began to bleed from the sheer force of the gargoyles scream. "Please" she hoarsely cried. But nothing could stop a gargoyle when it began to sing.

She found herself wavering, as her eyes grew tiered and her body slumped forward. She could have sworn she had seen someone standing over her before the world went black.

The first thing Etta noticed when she woke up was the faint smell of frankincense it tickled her nose and made her yes water. It was obvious she no longer lay on the cold concrete floor outside the church. The surface was now warm and soft, moulding to her shape.

Opening her eyes, Etta began to evaluate her surroundings. She was in a small room painted a light grey. The only light came from the glow of a fireplace which had now diminished significantly, leaving the faint glimmer of embers.

Removing herself from what she now realized was a bed she walked towards the hearth willing for the heat to coat her skin.

Unfortunately, she knew this to be in vain. It had been over 300 years since Etta felt any kind of warmth on her skin.

Creatures such an Etta were infinitely cold. Which may be the reason why her kind lusted for the blood of humans. It wasn't exactly a permanent fixture but it satisfied the beast within momentarily. It was why many of her kind allowed themselves to be consumed by their blood lust. They chased the euphoria that came with feeding. Unfortunately, it didn't last long, leaving those to seek out even more victims to satisfy themselves. Although it was never truly enough, and many found themselves ruled by their desires. They became blood junkies. Beasts of blood. Monsters.

Etta shivered at the thought, there was a time when she bordered on the apses of addiction. She had let lust consume her, driving her to the brink of insanity. But somehow, she had managed to pull herself back.

Still she could never forget everything she had done. It was imprinted on her soul. Darkness etched away at her heart, and every day she struggled to gain control of the beast that lurked beneath the surface.

Her thoughts were soon interrupted when she heard the twisting of a door handle. Her beast began to claw to the surface, readying itself for the possible threat.

A man entered, not just a man but a Priest. He was wafer thin with reddish hair. He wouldn't be what you would call traditionally handsome; his nose was too big and his lip too thin. But his eyes were intriguing. One green and one blue.

"Ah your awake" he spoke. His accent strong possibly Scottish. His indifference had Etta's beast on edge. He smiled as he moved towards the small hob in the corner of the room "Tea?" he questioned gesturing towards an old rusty kettle. He didn't wait for an answer, as he grabbed two large mugs, humming what could only be an old Scottish tune.

Etta watched him with Calculating eyes as he filled both cups, adding tea leaves and a generous amount of sugar. His overall behaviour peaked Etta's curiosity how could a man be so close to death itself and yet have no care whatsoever. Because that's exactly what Etta was, death in a pretty package. She had lost count of how many bodies lay in her wake.

Nobody would ever think that someone who looked like Etta could possibly hold so much darkness within. Too many she was beautiful; Her skin so pale it almost resembled an old china doll, her lips plump and coated in a permanent rouge. While her hair was dark and rich cascading down her back in gentle waves. Although it was her eyes that drew the men of the court, like a moth to a flame. Violet with a silver rim, they were extraordinary.

But things were not always what they seem and sometimes the prettiest of flowers had the sharpest thorns.

Etta breathed heavily and sighed, she realized that if this man cared so little then why should she. Sitting down on a worn-out sofa she waited for him finish. She didn't have to wait long as not even a minute later she found him sitting across from her with an outstretched hand. Taking the cup as more as a token than anything else, she drew it towards her lips. Foods and drink may not have any nutritional benefits and it certainly didn't satisfy her beast, but it was something she found herself doing more as a remembrance of the past, a comfort of sorts. Plus, humans tended to get antsy if you didn't indulge in the odd bite to eat every now and then.

She waited for him to speak. But he seemed happy enough to keep looking at her. It wasn't lust filled like most men, but a gentle curiosity. It unnerved her.

Finally fed up with the silence she found her voice "Why am I here " she spoke. "Well lass you helped that young girl, it was only fair I returned the favour" His response startled her, she wasn't used to kindness and she certainly didn't deserve any. "One good deed doesn't wash away the centuries of blood shed"

"But it helps, and maybe if you ask for his forgiveness it will lessen the burden you carry" Etta grew angry, how he couldn't possibly understand "What do you think that if I confess all my sins I'll be welcomed at those pearly white gates, you know what I am" she snarled. Although her anger hadn't seemed to affect the priest in the slightest in fact he appeared quite amused. "That I do, but one sin doesn't hold more weight that another".

Storming up from the seat, Etta faced the flames. What a ridiculous old man she thought, believing that she could possibly be saved. She knew what awaited her and it certainly wasn't a peaceful afterlife. But as she stood staring at the burning embers, she began to question the possibility that the Priest was right. "Do you really think it will work" she whispered, but he heard her none the less "You'll never know unless you try" and so began the confessions of a female Vampire.

*NOT EDITED*

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