Creation Mine

Beautiful.

Absolutely beautiful.

He lay where she left him, still as the stone top of the island he rested upon. Skin pale and smooth and radiant. Like a statue, carved from the most exquisite marble.

Beautiful.

She moved closer, captured by him. Relished the softness beneath her fingertips as she trailed them down his cheek. He was perfection. The very perfection she had spent all these years searching for. And, in the end, she created him. She felt the pride blooming in her chest, filling the emptiness her heart had left behind.

But impatience followed quickly.

Crouching to his side, she brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. “Wake soon, my sweet.” It was a command, though her voice was as gentle as the breeze that floated in through the open window.

This was always the worst part. The waiting. Waiting for them to breathe their first breath in this new life. And the wanting. The want to watch them take their first steps. To witness their reactions to this new reality.

She knows it would be awful for even the most patient of creatures. But her, patience – she has none.

No patience. No self-control. And no desire to possess either of those things. Selfish. Self-serving. That is what she is.

Perhaps, she should be ashamed of her failings. Ashamed of the lack of desire to be better. Ashamed of the wrongness – the awfulness.

But she is not.

She has had centuries to come to terms with her nature. The conclusion? Why defy what you need not? Defiance would lead to guilt. A constant pressure to be better than you are. I am what I am, she tells herself. Immortal. Inhuman. Monster.

And she has no desire to be anything else.

So, she lives taking what she wants – who she wants.

She continues to observe him as a thought hits her. He will be hungry when he wakes. Ravenous even. She should provide, she is his maker after all. A gift to show her devotion – no, not devotion. Commitment? Yes, that is better. Her commitment to his existence.

A meal is in order. A hunt is required.

She’s striding from the room before the thought has even finished. Gliding through the halls to the door that will release her upon the outside world. Slipping through that door brings her out into the night.

It’s late. Midnight? Maybe later, but the street is filled with light and life. Streetlamps and neon signs light the street to near daytime brightness. People move in waves along the sidewalk, bustling to and from the ample nighttime choices.

She stood on the stoop watching. Listening to the conversations. Waiting for the perfect prey to present itself.

She spotted her hovering by one of the food carts. She was conversing pleasantly with the vendor. Something about how much she loved whatever it was he was selling. Good. Her last moments will have been relaxed, filled with her enjoying herself.

The vendor puffed up at her praise. Like a peacock showing his feathers. Even with the distance she could hear the flirtatious tone in his voice as he responded. Pity. He will never have the chance to explore his attraction past this moment in time.

She waited for the conversation to finish. Watched as she made her way down the street. Waited for his eyes to lose her to the crowd. Then she moved. Swiftly, silently, like a cat stalking a mouse.

“Hello Little Mouse.” She vocalized, voice musical as she materialized in her path. She was small. Small and delicately pretty. Perfect for her creations first meal.

“Oh!” She’d lifted her head, green eyes opening wide as she hit the breaks trying not to collide with her chest. “I’m so sorry.” Her voice sounded young, girlish. “I didn’t see you.” She went to pass around her. “Sorry again.”

A hand moved latching onto her upper arm, grip like iron. “Little Mouse,” She singsonged.

“Hey, let me -”

“Shhhhhhh.” Placing a finger to her lips and to stop her protest. Lowering to her level, she caught her gaze. “You want to come with me, don’t you?”

She knew the moment she had captured her. A glaze appeared over those pretty green eyes. The Little Mouse was lost. Controlled. She is mine, the words whispered through her mind. She felt the predatory smile as it took over her face. Lips stretching wide in obvious pleasure.

She released her arm. Fingers trailing down the smooth skin to intertwine their hands together. Some light pressure, a gentle tug, and they were weaving their way back toward the front door. She kept their hands linked together, unwilling to risk separation.

It took mere minutes to pull the little thing back inside with her. It felt much longer, used to moving at higher speeds as she was.

Once inside, she guided her back through the halls to the kitchen where he waited. When they made it inside, she released her as she secured the door. A harp intake of breath had her spinning. Had he awoken?

No. He lay just as still as before. It was the Little Mouse who had made the noise. She stood, eyes wide and hands covering her mouth in horror. Her gaze was focused on her creation.

“Is he?” She didn’t finish the question. Too scared of the answer. She was gestured forward. Curiosity got the better of the little thing; she moved to observe him better. “How pretty.”

“Isn’t he just.” The words were spoken with pride. “He is the most exquisite thing I have ever created. And you Little Mouse; you shall fuel his first moments.” She picked up a lock of honey colored hair, fingers playing with the strands.

She watched as her pupils dilated, nostrils flaring as fear crashed through her. Tears gathered in those green eyes as the reality of her situation made itself known. Dropping the lock of hair, she cupped her cheeks.

Catching the tears that escaped with gentle swipes of her thumbs, she shushed her. “There is no need for all of that, it will all be over soon.”

The words did nothing to bring calm. The opposite, in fact. Little Mouse struggled against the hands on her cheeks, grabbing at the wrists to pull them away. The hold on her face turned from gentle to bruising.

Head tipping to the side, she regarded her as the struggle turned desperate. The Little Mouse was caught in a trap. A trap she was only beginning to see.

The sound of movement drew her attention away from the Little Mouse and to her creation. Fingers twitched against stone as his neurons began to wake. With a heaving, albeit unnecessary inhale, his eyes snapped open. She released the Little Mouse and turned to face him. Hands joining together in excitement as pleasure rushed through her.

She was by his side in an instant. His eyes were taking in what they could from his prone position. Those beautiful dark eyes moved to gaze at her face. “Rowena?” He asked, still disoriented.

“Yes Sweetling, I’m here.” She replied, intent on comforting him.

He moved to sit up. Rowena reached gentle hands out, steadying and assisting. His hand gripped her arm, relying on her strength to steady him. He sat for a moment, hunched over, letting his body come to terms with the new position.

“You did it.” His voice was soft and filled with wonder as he lifted his head to gaze into her eyes. A hand moved to cup her cheek, thumb stroking the skin softly. “You saved me.”

She reveled in his attention. The way he looked at her with such adoration and gratitude.

The rattling of the kitchen doorknob pulled their attention away from each other. Little Mouse was pulling at the door incessantly. Desperate to escape. It was futile, Rowena had made sure to secure the lock as soon as they had passed through it.

“What’s this?” He asked, slipping from the island to the floor. His head tipped to the side as he regarded the pretty little thing.

“Your gift.” Rowena moved from her place beside him to grasp Little Mouse by the shoulders, steering her back to his side. “Do you like her?”

He looked between the two of them. His lips tugged up into a smile. “She’s lovely.” He reached for her. Rowena passed her to him easily. Little Mouse had begun to sob. Shoulders shook and tears left trails down her cheeks.

“Shhhh,” he soothed. Pulling her to him, he patted her head. His gaze was focused behind her, questioning Rowena with his eyes. She gave him a nod of encouragement. “No need to cry, it’s over now.”

Rowena watched as his lips pulled back from his teeth. Watched as his fangs slid into place. Watched as he moved, mouth latching onto Little Mouse at her throat. Listened to her cry of pain. Listened as her cries turned to whimpers, whimpers turned to silence. Watched as he drank his fill.

He pulled away once she went dry, releasing her. The body collapsed to the floor with a thud that they both ignored. His mouth was smeared with blood as he reached for her and Rowena went to him happily. He pulled her flush against him, one hand cradling her hip and the other her cheek.

“I am finally yours.” He whispered, face moving close, mere centimeters from her own.

“And I yours.” She replied, a soft smile taking over her features. He returned the smile before closing the distance between them.

The beginning of their forever.