"Years of love have been forgot,
In the hatred of a minute."
Edgar Allan Poe-
The Complete Stories and Poems

🩸

God finally answered her prayers, and dealt her punishment.

How could He? When her father's weak gaze had now withered into something that made her feel in need of protecting.

If she ever were to see him again, she planned to stab him with her wrath. She wanted to spend every minute letting him know just how much her mother mourned their love. How the summers they spent away without him killed a piece of her every time. It was proof his status mattered more. It was proof that he felt shamed by his wife and daughter. It was the honest truth that he chose his reputation over them every time. She would let him know that while he appeared strong, he was weak.

He was too late.

But how could she?

She continued to stare at his quivering hands on the pew, as they were now covered with new spots of age from too much sun. He had always kept his clothing in pristine condition, but the jacket and blouse he wore were slightly frayed at the edges. Humble. Her father inspected her back, a thorough man if anything. Curious. Always questioning. Yet never standing up for his beliefs. That much did not change.

He did not look at her like how the other humans did, with fear

No. Her father who could not look at her after her mothers death without appearing in pain smiled softly at her.

"Serafina," His voice grumbled in exhalation, as tears began to brim his eyes, "Angioletto."

The old name made her stumble back from her kneeled position, her hands catching herself on the tile. A name she had not been called since she was a young child. When she was born, her father proclaimed her to be an angel sent from heaven. A miracle placed upon their little family. How he would rebuke what she had turned into.

"I am no angel." It left her lips with little thought. She wanted to disappoint him, to scare him off. That would be vengeance enough for her to know what he had helped turn her into.

Though he sat calmly, it was apparent he knew she was not the person he once knew. Recognition flared in his eyes, at her unchanged face and bones. The lines of normal age had not crept into her face. There was her mother's beauty and grace passing onto her, and the unnatural. She was both.

Serafina's father nodded, and she caught a whiff of his tobacco scent. The smell of fall, and leaving the South and sea behind. A reminder that the world was not always sunshine and fresh linen. 

"No, you are something else entirely. But you are not gone, and that is all that matters to me."

Finality stoned her. He knew? Of course he did. It would have faired better if there had been no witnesses to her fall. Then she could have weaved a story that she fled after finding her lover. After several a couple years of searching, some old woman from down the street told of her descent to her family.

That was the last time Serafina brought shame to them.

"Is that not what you wished? I was a burden. Me and my mother. I know how you saw us, how your family saw us. She was low-class swine and I was watered down purity. We were others." Serafina relived every moment with her father's side of the family. The contempt they would fire at her with every stare down their noses. How they would whisper unforgivable things at dinner until her mother would bend her head in shame. And her father sat in silence and let it happen. Her voice was tempered glass in her rage, "You killed her you know. The only day you chose her was on your wedding day. Everyday after that, you chose your title. Your reputation. You stayed here in Florence, while she wilted in Almafi. She needed to flee, she needed to be away from the people that treated her like she was nothing. She needed the sea, the sand, and the kindness she received. But she needed you there more." Serafina was no longer in a church, but in the rain looking out upon the sea. Her toes stretched over a white window sill. "You were too late."

I hope he sees my mother when he looks at me. I hope it kills him inside.

Her father dipped his head, his thumbs wiping under his eye sockets. He did not look away, but he could not speak.

Serafina would force him from his silence.

She stood up, letting him take in the unearthly way she did so. No human awkwardness or hesitation. Candlelight illuminated her from behind, turning her body into shadow.

His gaze rose with her as he stared up at the heavens, knowing they would not welcome his daughter.

Look at me.

See what I have become.

Her voice cracked as it echoed around the domed room, "I lost everything that was dear to me. I watched my mother end her life because she could not stand having only half of you. She left me behind, alone." Serafina swallowed the lump of sorrow and traded it for more rage, "I was a child, and I all I needed was a present father. You were kind, but you were as distant to me as the sun. Like I was forever by the sea and you could not reach me. You tried but it wasn't enough. You never defended me against your parent's insults. And there is only so many times I could withstand hearing that I was a mangy dog like my mother. You could not look at me, for you saw a ghost. I was just a reminder of every mistake you have ever made, and that much was clear when you shipped me off to the highest bidder."

"You loved him. I wanted you to be happy. I-I thought you would be better off without me."

"I love him because I did not know any better." Serafina's throat was raw as she stepped closer again, her father's eyes widening as he took in her predatory stance, "I loved you father, a man who was never fully there for me. Who would forever choose against his love's happiness. It was only fate that I chose the same for myself."

Her mother chose death over her.
Her father chose to push her away instead of bring her close.
Her late husband chose another woman entirely.

She sank into the misery of knowing, letting it cement her feet to the marbled floor. At every turn in life, she was unlovable. It was foolish, childish thought but it did not make it any less true. It made her even angrier, as she dug her long nails into her palms, producing merlot lines to trail down to her wrists.

Her father's lips pursed into a straight line. The same expression he would have while talking with politicians. "You killed him." He murmured aloud.

It was not a question.

She wanted the man gone from her sight. He was the past and she did not wish to confront it no longer. No word she had hurled at him would change what had already came to exist.

She let her fangs expand her gums, her mouth falling open to expose herself. She knew that with that instinct, her eyes would darken with the widening of her pupils. The veins on her body would darken in shade. Her nails would lengthen, and her muscle would curl. Her father would probably believe he was looking upon a demon. The paintings behind her would contrast in their heavenly light, and he would know that she had no place on sacred grounds.

"I would do it again." She whispered, a damning confession.

Her father's expression was wide eyed and yet she could not hint the acrid smell fear on him. He stood up slowly, and she let him, believing that he would escape through the church doors with his life.

With every small step he took out of the pew, she felt a hit to her stomach. Over the years she had blamed every ounce of heart ache on her father, and yet she wanted him to atone. To stay. He would not, he was a godly man. And she was what the Bible warned him of. He would do exactly as she expected.

Once he cleared the pew, he took a step towards her.

She snarled, swiping at the air between them. Did he have an iron stake hidden in his pocket? Had he come to end her in order to salvage what was left of his daughter?

Fear came off of him in waves now, his jaw shaking, but he did not move away. He held up his hands, and she swore she could hear the hail Mary's swimming inside of his head.

He took another step. Another, and another. Until her father's tall height was still apparent, even in his older age. They stood staring in silence. Once again she was a child in his study, playing with his things in order to get his attention. This time he did not send her away.

Her father wrapped his arms around her unnatural body, and brought her into his chest. The young vampire was so shaken that she let him.

"Angioletto," He sighed into her ear with amusement, "You were always too good for that boy."

Serafina became a river of red. Five years old once again, she clung to her father, her hands fisted into the back of his coat. He did not care that his changed daughter stained his shirt with blood, he only brought her in closer. "There, there Serafina. Life must have been hard by yourself." Her cries turned into body wracking sobs, as he lifted her veil and brushed away some of the stray brown curls from around her face.

She told him the tale of just how hard life had become. Of what she had become, and how. They sat along the edge of the pew, and her father held her hands in her lap. She spoke of her marriage and infidelity, to which he flinched and cursed. He apologized after for cursing, which made her laugh through her tears. She spoke of her death, and her transition into a new life. He was frighteningly calm then, as if he had preparing to be told that for years.

"As a parent, you know when your child is gone." He had tried to explain. She teased him by saying some of mother's Strega blood had given him a sixth sense.

"Who was the first one? How were you all created?"

"I do not know." She answered honestly.

Everything she knew about vampires had been from either Cian's lips, or learned through experience. The Sanguine council had not taken up tutoring lessons for the nouveaux population. She suspected it was some arrogant asshole who sold their soul to Lucifer who started it.

"I have not been entirely alone. Do you remember the stray black cat that wouldn't leave the flowers around the villa alone? It would bring us mice on the door step and make mama scream?" She did not expect him to recall the cat, but to recall the stories they would bring back to Florence about it.

Explaining what a familiar was took more time and a lot more description. Apparently a cat turning into a man was more devious than a vampire.

The more she painstakingly went through every detail, the more her father's initial shock turned into a knowing levity.

"Your familiar treats you well?" He questioned openly.

Serafina felt her defense rise to her throat, "Better than anyone."

Her father took no offense to her chaste, honest response. His lips quirked up, and she knew the only person oblivious to her feelings was the receiver of them.

He told her of how her mother and him had met. His version was much more flowery than what her mother told her, which was surprising because she had assumed her mother was the poetic one.

There were things he revealed that she had never been privy to at such a young age. Her father lied about her mother's class, claiming she had noble family in the south. But it was clear that her brand of Roman Catholicism differed in tradition from his parent's, and that is where the conflict began. Then it was the way my mother did not know which fork she needed to use, or the placement of her napkin. They figured out very quickly she preferred red wine, even when paired with fish. As she grew up with farmer's in the Southern region of the new country, she did not even know what she did not know. It was clear that her father had lied about her standing, but by that time she was already pregnant.

The Catholic in Serafina gasped. "You had to marry her."

Her father's eyes crinkled, "I wanted to. We chose to have you in order to force our marriage, my parents would not have accepted it otherwise. I will never regret that." He sighed again, placing his hand on her knee affectionately, "I regret the summers I spent in the city. Fighting with my parents, making appearances. Doing frivolous business deals that made us even richer." He shook his head, "I thought your mother needed that time to recollect herself. I truly had no idea her mind was dwindling, not until that last year. Even when I sent you both away in that carriage, I knew deep within me I should have gone with you. I fought with your Nonna and Nonno, they threatened to cut me off if I went and I no longer cared. I left the next night. Then I found you." Watery tears lined his eyes, and her chest concaved from her heart ceasing to pound.

"I loved Elena more than anything. I wish she knew that, as I never got the chance to tell her just how much." Her mother's name was just as beautiful as she. And from the look on her father's face, he had waged war for her mother. He just had tried to hide it from them. "I have spent every moment of my life with regret. I spent all that precious time I had with your mother and you trying to make sure you were given all the things you could want. Clothes, money, a beautiful house. You needed me. I should have given up everything and lived with you by the sea until we had nothing left. Instead I tried to keep peace, and I only set the foundation for chaos." Chills ran down her spine, hairs standing on the back of her neck, "Whatever life you have been bestowed, it is by the will of God. You were given a second chance, and it is time you find out why."

That sixth sense must have followed him, because he saw right through her. The possibilities of what she could do and what she must were placed onto a thin thread.

Run?

Or fight?

Serafina looked up at the paintings of the angels above them, waiting for a sign. She brought her chin back down, her voice trembling, "I think I am fighting nature. I think my fate is Death, but he shuns me. I am warring against the heavens with every breath I take, as I am no longer allowed. Satan will not take me, as I am a vampire who kills their own kind to spare humans. I belong nowhere. I am nothing."

An hour, and she had lost sight of years of contempt. She was more human than she had thought. A holy hour, as her father healed some of the damage she believed him responsible.

It was herself, her circumstances she execrated.

Her father lifted a his well-kept hands under her chin, and for the first time she felt comfort at the scent of tobacco.

"He has given me the chance to tell you that I am blessed to be your father. You are a survivor, Serafina, but please live. Do not be ashamed of what you have become. Be ashamed if you choose to waste away because of it."

She did not have to heart to tell him that she may not believe in God. He would find it more sacrilegious than her demon-blood, excommunication, or sins.

"Thank you. I know what happened is not your fault." The words felt strange to say aloud, and in some way she felt like she betrayed her mother. Because how could she be angry at someone who was dead? Whose own pain led her to the same choice?

"Your grandparents are dead Serafina." She felt little of anything upon hearing it. Their death did not change the damage they enacted in life. Her father continued, "I do not tell you this to upset you. It's just, if you ever need to stay with me. Or if you would just like to visit—" His words halted as he tried to carefully choose the right things to say, "You are always welcome. Blood on your hands, in your eyes, and in your stomach." Serafina scoffed, crossing her arms. Her father spoke more sternly, throwing up his hands, "What, you're going to starve your entire immortal life? Oddio! You need to eat."

Serafina never thought she'd have a conversation about her diet with a human without it ending in one of their deaths. To have her father scolding her to drink more blood was another level of insanity she could barely comprehend. The sound of bells chiming alerted her to their dwindling time.

"Alright, alright. Enough of that Papà. Let me take you home before—"

Her head cracked into the marble floor before she could finish her sentence. She screamed, the fissure sending blinding pain through her skull and eyes. Blood poured out of her head, pooling underneath her and into her irises, painting the chapel in red. Hands, melded to her in their strength. Five, ten, or fifteen she did not know. Pressing her closer and closer into the floor, into earth. She fought against them, biting and ripping flesh as much as she could move her head. Someone barked loudly at the others, grabbing the back of her skull, keeping her fully pinned.

There was sense amongst the pain. A glaring dismay she had not felt in over a decade. Mortality.

"Father!" She screamed, spewing blood in front of her.

Her eyes moved around, glancing across the now empty pew. Trying to find where he had gone, and hoping pitifully that he escaped. She tried to turn to see who exactly was holding her, and got a swift kick to her ribs for even attempting it. She kept her cry of pain in, refusing to give any of them the delight.

She did not have to look at any of these people to know they were vampires.

The woman that decided to appear in her line of vision told her exactly who.

Octavia's heels clicked across the floor. Her black dress, a sign of morning, fitted to her with a tight stay. Her long skirts dragged into blood that spilled from Serafina's body, and she dipped to the floor.

The ancient vampire placed her thumb into the liquid, and lifted it to her lips. The young vampire watched sideways, as the Empress's pupils expanded, breathing in the taste. Her father was nowhere in sight. She stopped fighting against her captors, knowing it was a hapless pursuit. At least he would not be there to witness her demise.

Thank the heavens.

"Serafina." Her name drawled out from Octavia's lips like the creak of a coffin, "I have been looking everywhere for you. To think you were recently a human and yet you had no connections, no family. After my little threat, you did not cross paths with humans or have anyone to say your goodbyes to you poor thing. I thought the only thing you cared about was someone I had little chance to kill."

No.

"Leave the human be. He just happened to be here. I do not know him." Her voice cracked with the lie, but still she used all the numbness she could muster to make it true.

The ancient ran a clawed finger down the smoothness of her cheek, and she snarled, snapping her teeth at the deranged woman. Octavia laughed, a snow-capped sound. Wrong as it echoed in the sanctuary. "All you do is lie." Her smile faded to a grimace, "Bring him to me."

Serafina struggled, trying to claw her way out of the vampires' grip. She thrashed madly, even as a council member dragged her father forward by the back of his neck. He looked fatigued but he did not scream, not even when he was placed on his knees before her.

Octavia stalked forward, disgust written across her porcelain face. Her father was just one of the many humans they felt aversion to.

"Get away from him!" She screamed until her throat dried. There was no point in pretending she did not know him. Octavia would kill him
anyways for being a nuisance.

The ancient cackled, drawing near the man. The council man, Davide, tightened his grip on her father, angling his head so that he had to stare at the Empress.

She dipped her long body, "Who are you to Serafina?"

Do not answer. Do not answer. The words ricocheted in her head.

"I have spent too much of my life avoiding that
question." No, oh no. Her father smiled, even as she began to cry. He winked at her, avoiding Octavia's critical glare, "That is my daughter over there. It seems like she bested you, and you do not like it."

He had no clue who he was speaking to. He did not realize that if he would have been spared, there was no chance now. Octavia's eyes widened at his slight, her teeth elongating.

I never wanted him dead. Not really. God, why don't you listen?

There would be no time. She felt the blood vessels in her eyes burst as she wrangled with the the hands that held her.

"Father! Look at me, do not look at her. I am sorry. I am so sorry. This is all my fault. I cannot—"

I cannot save you.

"I made my peace with you, Angioletto. I am ready." He answered instead, wise. Stoic.

"No. You cannot go like this. It is not your time!" She knew she would outlive him, but not like this. Never like this.

Her father gave her one last smile before he closed his eyes. She called for him, and yet he did not look up from the marble. He lifted his hands to his chest, and prayed.

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the lord is with thee—"

Someone chuckled darkly in her ear, "Is he praying? God will not save him now."

Octavia let her mouth fall open, her jaw practically unhinging as she stepped forward.

"Blessed art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners." My father continued, his voice strong against the sound of my wails. A shield against the laughter.

"Say hello to your God for me." She slithered, placing her claws onto his chest.

"Now and at the hour of our death—"

The ancient did not let him finish.

Serafina's yell ripped out of her as the ancient stabbed through his neck and into his vocal chords. Her father gurgled his Amen, his eyes growing glassy as his body slumped forward. But he was not yet dead, and every single vampire knew that.

She watched every minute as they tortured him. Not allowing herself the comfort of closing her eyes. Octavia bit into his face, drinking the blood from his cheeks and lips. The other vampire broke his fingers one by one, until they were stuck together in prayer. They drained him slowly, refusing to sink into major arteries. He twitched with pain but could not voice it.

She watched. The world faded into an endless silence with every minute he was kept alive. She looked into his eyes, as he lay on the floor. Until the very moment his chest shuddered, and he took his final breath.

"Amen." She whispered aloud, for him.

Goodbye.

"He's dead? I wanted to drink from him." A voice sounded from behind her. A woman's from the council.

"It does not taste right when they do not fight it." One commented, snickering.

She could not move as a couple of them tied her wrists with metal. Laughing and drunk off of their meal. They tore apart his limbs, and were ordered to place them into an unmarked bag. They bent onto the floor and lapped up his blood.

Octavia swayed over to her, and she never felt more alive.

"I leave you with your life now. I want you to die inside before I wipe the Earth of your existence, Serafina Lucifero."

The young vampires head snapped back with the quick kick that landed upon her face.

She woke up hours later, feeling like her skin was burning. She cared little of it. Instead she lifted herself with a weighted body, and walked through the midnight streets. The gasps mattered none as she was bent with metal and blood. It barely registered at all that she was unnatural to them.

It took an hour to walk to the edge of the city. A half hour to run the rest of the way to her hillside villa.

Cian looked at her as she stepped into the house, not a word falling forth from his lips. His only tell was the slight narrowing of his eyes, as he took in her disheveled appearance.

He knew to let her speak first.

She took her last breath and let go of any humanity she had left. Then made a vow.

"I am dragging every single one of them to hell with me."

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(A/N: ahhh this chapter made me sad :( Serafina cannot catch a break.

Again this story is set in Italy because of my family upbringing. I am 4th gen American (Italian American as Americans would say, and just American as Italians would say haha) but my older family members were still alive when I was younger and we practiced all their traditions from Calabria. They all spoke Italian, worried about the malocchio, made biscotti, and said god bless after we complimented someone. There is more but I don't want this note to be super long. I miss them a lot and this story is a tribute to the family I have known, and the family I have never known 🖤 this story has themes of family, grief, forgiveness, betrayal, and Catholicism (both questioning it, and turning the idea on its head?) but please do not take it offensively. I like exploring the instituions we live with.

as all my OG readers know, I am the Queen of plot twists. And I just created THE plot twist for this story. I am soooo excited to keep writing because I genuinely believe it is going to shock people in the best way possible.

Thank you so much for the support!