History's Echoe

She's sweet, she's pale, she's the moon's afterglow, she's silent as a lamb. That sweet girl. What was her name? Elizabeth Montgomery Winthrop? And he? William Frachire France.

At night, they hunted together. During the day, they slept away, cooped up in his mother's home. She's his sire. His beautiful ray of sunlight pouring from the clouds. Such sweet sorrow....... Such longing beauty waiting to be evoked by such soft melodic hands. Hands that touched, hands that roamed, hands that felt. Every inch of her curves were touched. Not a simple skin was missed.

He was a loner in life and she knew that. She took the man and molded him into a beast. No longer the softer side. No longer the poet.

Such sad tragedy.

Drowning in his own sorrow of loss and life, that he was. Something changed. Raw and lethal.

Primal, unstoppable; Less subdued.

The demon wasn't tamed. It knew the first it awoken.

It wanted something sweet, it's craving- marvelous.

"Oh sweet beauty wake up my precious. Come back to me and we can paint this globe red with our ashes and tears."

That voice brought him to the present.

William: Liz you hear me?

Elizabeth touched his arm with her finger and pulled him close to her. She inhaled his scent, marvelling at his desire and lust.

"Do you drown in me Elizabeth?"

Oh, such sweet sweet childe.

Elizabeth: Yes sweets, but why do you ask?

"Because I fear I may lose you to him!"

Elizabeth hissed and drew up her fingers in a cat like trance.

Elizabeth: HE is my sire!

'He maybe your sire, but who am I to you!?!'

"Lizzy, please tell me the truth, will you?"

Liz suddenly glazed over as if listening to something. Then, she gasped!

She giggled and waved at him. "Go on my Spike, the universe is shifting and it's pulling you through."

There was a portal. Blue, grey, and white at the same time. As she said, it did indeed pull him through.

"Goodbye William, have a safe trip!"