Charlotte: Master of Herself

Charlotte’s phone remained quiet, as though Patrick and Eliza knew she was not of their world. It gave her space for her to discover her true nature. She wrestled with her thirst, unsatisfied by plasma fruit blends. Caleb made her focus on control in a dark, meditative state. Plumes of purple smoke billowed around her as she levitated, leg crossed, and eyes closed. Acute hearing picked out footsteps, voices, a scuttling spider and a mouse’s breath. Her mind connected to the gift of immortality. She reached into her own memories, letting slip a giggle. Caleb pondered her, confused. Charlotte recalled a long slobbering tongue, fuzzy hair and wet snout of their dog Sparky; she could feel the warm breath on her face as Sparky licked. The vividness of her memories concerned Caleb. He kept silent, hoping her gifts were more akin to his than routed in her mental state.

Charlotte and Caleb

Utilising her power and increasing its effectiveness would make her a formidable opponent. He led her outside into the darkness, the cool, damp air, refreshing against her skin. Charlotte inhaled; she had not taken a breath for purposes other than talking since she awoke. The fresh, earthy scent filled her nostrils, the relief of being above ground evident in her smile.

Caleb demonstrated his speed, moving behind her, knocking her off balance. He held her in position mid-fall, pulling her back into his arms. There would be ample time to explore, to show her Forgotten Hollow, its midnight beauty. He spun her; chest pressed against her back. Caleb nudged her feet apart, front foot grounded, the back used to pivot. Charlotte wiggled her hips against him, unable to focus with him so close. He gritted his teeth, ignoring how this action attempted to distract him. Caleb extended and rotated her wrists, drawing them back into a guarded position. He curled them round, hooking the elbow, stroking her cheek with his. Caleb squatted, forcing Charlotte with him. He drove upwards with an emphasis on hitting the chin. The strength possessed by Charlotte surprised him, but it was useless if she was not a fighter. She looked disappointed, hoping to embrace her first steps in the darkened world. Instead, Caleb took a guarded stance opposite her, coaching through the punches. He knocked each throw away, as they danced in a circular motion.


Charlotte lacked his speed, experience and discipline. As a fledgling Vampire, Charlotte expected a lot from herself. She wondered if Caleb’s focus on self-control stopped her powers from manifesting. She retreated into the books, a place she found comfort. She was unsure what gifts she hoped to achieve. Charlotte eyed the pages with deepening interest. If she were worthy at the level of Grand Master, could she accomplish those coveted abilities? Vampires reaching this level were often given unique roles within their houses.

A house is a vampire collective. There was one house in existence, Strauss, with Vlad at the helm. The Caster’s decision to curb the occult presence in the world meant this would remain the case. Roles were destiny, the Ministry of Magic could not deny this. Mediums were sought for their knowledge and understanding of the magics that bound them. Charlotte clutched the book, drawn into Caleb’s world by love, this would be hers one day. Besides, House Vatore-Grace would reach beyond this hamlet, bringing together human and occult.

Charlotte: Restrained

Charlotte grew restless in her stone prison. The iron gate tormented her, preventing access to the life Caleb promised. Their plasma packs were low; Charlotte knew he would need to leave; when he did, she wanted to go too. Her body contained energy, every cell wound tight, waiting to explode. There were vampire books covering lore and laws, some she read long before Caleb came into her life. They recounted a biased history and wrote of abilities each vampire could unlock. Charlotte growled about how Caleb was denying her this development by restraining her. She was ready to test her strength, pit it against his and learn how capable her body was.

Charlotte and Caleb

Caleb rolled over, a loud groan, pulling the bedspread around him. Their clothes scattered; she had seemed relaxed, satisfied. Sex should have served as a distraction. It amazed him how much energy Charlotte needed to release post-rebirth. When he and Lilith woke, the coiled springs, the energy of their cells exploded with their fear. It gave them the power to punch through their coffin and dig themselves out of the grave. Charlotte suffered no such fate, and her expulsion of energy came in waves. Caleb lay spent, his legs numb and sore from her bites. A few were too close to an area he wanted to keep for future use. Charlotte had laughed, blood dripping as she kissed him. Consumed by the pleasure principle and her calm exterior was a temporary illusion.

It was not the hunger; which created the problem but the need to flex her blood-infused cells. It drove Charlotte from their bed; she ran her hands through her tangled hair. She smoothed over her cold skin and clutched her breasts, squeezing them together. The hissing irritated Caleb. Charlotte developed an involuntary response brought on by the frustration of captivity. Some days he believed her pacing would wear through the stone. Other times, he feared she would hurt herself as the body crashed into the walls. Her fists bled from pounding, tears and desperate screams.

His home was a simple stone-built, two up, two down. The bathroom and Kitchen used limited space on their respective floors. Food might not be a part of Caleb’s diet, but he loved to cook. Visits from his children Juliana, and Cliff, were rare. Caleb had limited contact with them due to the rules of vampires raising human children. Juliana accepted his lifestyle, making it easier for them to forge a friendship. Things with Cliff remained strained, but they muddled through awkward conversations. Caleb saw them as the teens he met, despite them being grown. There was a pained look in Caleb’s eyes when they visited. These were lives he could not take part in and the five grandchildren he would never meet.

Caleb welcomed Juliana and Cliff, relieved both agreed to greet Charlotte. They were under no illusion this could be dangerous, as she might mesmerise and drink from them. Charlotte fidgeted. The scent of the visitors and the loud beating hearts made her mouth water. She imagined how it would taste, the warm blood as it flowed into her mouth untainted by plasma fruit. The peach-shaped fruit, a pinkish purple colour, with the essence of blood. Spellcasters and human scientists created a plant-based alternative to weaken and pacify vampires. The problem, Charlotte realised, with this concept was the flavour. The fruit was by nature’s design sweet. Whilst perfect for baby vampires, failed to satisfy a turned adult.

Charlotte, Cliff and Juliana

The children were older, embracing the human lives Charlotte she chose to reject. Caleb watched his girlfriend battling her inner nature. Impressed by her determination to prove herself in control. The conversation centred on Charlotte’s youth. Cliff made digs at their father for choosing a woman closer in age to his grandchildren. Caleb managed an awkward laugh. Vlad sired him at eighteen, Charlotte was nineteen, but the hundred or so years made a difference. Cliff cleared his throat. He wanted to enquire about Charlotte’s family, and how she felt never seeing them again. The silence echoed; Charlotte inhaled, paused, then released, her mind confused. In the desperation of her choice, her family never registered. She would never be able to say a proper goodbye, and they had not mourned her.

Juliana’s brow knitted as she tried to place Charlotte amidst a sense of familiarity. Charlotte stared, transfixed by her thoughts, unable to communicate. A weight of disappointment and anger grew in Juliana. Her heartbeat increased, drawing Charlotte’s attention and focus to her neck. The bitter words spat, Juliana’s face reddened, the foolishness of her father. Juliana bit back her tears; her voice faltered. How could she look at Patrick, knowing what had happened to his sister? Juliana could not follow through on a relationship with him despite how she felt. As a mother, the thought of leaving her children made her sick. Caleb reached for Charlotte’s hand as she hissed at Juliana. The woman stepped back; her eyes widened, breathing and heart raced. Caleb’s panicked tone ordered them to leave, gripping Charlotte tighter. He pulled her against his chest to restrain her. She twisted, eyes following Juliana as Cliff pushed his sister out into the sun.

Picture one pose by

Charlotte: So She Might Live

Her chest fell silent, and the throbbing of her veins remained static, yet every nerve was on fire. Charlotte feared her skin would blister should the pain not subside. The weight of her body pressing into the bed was excruciating. Caleb’s arms as lead weights holding her down. She bolted upright, a second to gather her strength and ran to the iron gate. Caleb, in a soothing tone, called to her; the noise permeated around the room, and her hands gripped her head. Why wouldn’t the pain stop? Her eyes squinted against the flickering candles. She clung to the iron bars, their firm grounding position aided Charlotte’s senses. They trembled in her grip but would not budge. She scratched at the walls, pounded her fists, eyes darted, and hissed at Caleb.

Charlotte and Caleb

Her eyes fell on the empty pouch in his hand; the rusty aroma overwhelmed her senses. With a change in demeanour, Charlotte focused her attention on him. A sharp throbbing developed in her mouth as sharp teeth punctured. She did not attempt to wipe the blood or show concern. Two teeth fell from her mouth: in their place, bloodied fangs. Charlotte ran her tongue across them. Her movements were deliberate and sluggish, and her stomach squeezed. Hissing, Charlotte lunged for Caleb. He side-stepped her attack, a swift motion behind her. Caleb slit his wrist, filled with fresh plasma; Charlotte clutched it, drinking deep.

When she cut her finger, Charlotte tasted her blood for the first time. Instinct took control as she sucked the wound. The metallic taste made her recoil. The same taste energised her. The liquid swirled in her mouth soothed her throat, and her eyes widened and closed. The stomach squeezed, without a heartbeat this pumped blood. It permeated through her cells, a river flowing through her veins, her skin tingled. Caleb squirmed, ripping his arm from her grasp. Charlotte spun, smiling, her tongue caught in her teeth at one side. Her hand moved swiftly, precisely to his chin, lifting him up. With a flick of her wrist, Caleb flew across the room, landing on the bed. Crawling, Charlotte inhaled his scent, fingers gripped the quilt. There was a musty, three-day clothing aroma, one she recognised in herself. She tugged his clothes, getting beneath his shirt, the scent was faint but desirable.

Charlotte and Caleb

Juniper, Thyme, a hint of peppermint and the ocean. Charlotte licked her lips remembering the initial salty taste of his skin. The sweat of days, shivering, a restless wait for his system to process her blood. Locking them in this basement was for the good of humanity. Caleb knew the immediate taste of fresh hot blood would drive her wild, control her for eternity. If he breathed, Caleb would have held it, watching her. Hands explored his exposed chest, and hunger of a different kind raged in her eyes. She shuffled upright, straddling him, wriggling her body against his firm interest.

Charlotte stopped; she turned her head, listening. Caleb was too slow to grab her, watching her cling to the iron gates. There were footsteps on the gravel, distant voices, she strained to hear. Vlad employed gardeners; humans who tended to the park their homes overlooked. She rattled the gates, frustrated, and confused. How with her renewed strength were they still unyielding?

Feasting on blood was the least of Caleb’s concerns, if Charlotte figured out how to open the gates, how would he stop her from rushing into the sun? His eyes were sunken, fatigued and his first meal in days shared with the newborn lover. He had neither energy nor strength to hold her back.

Poses for Charlotte in Picture one

Pose for Caleb in Picture one

Picture 2

Patrick: The Blind Date

Demands grew on Patrick’s time, a job he loved and two children. Patrick knew dividing his time meant he neglected the homegrown plants. As he grappled with dead plants, flies and weeds hassled him. He struggled to remember what life was like before he was a father. Patrick wished he knew where Charlotte was, and what had become of her. Eliza hired a private investigator, but they had turned up nothing. Was Charlotte erased from the world? The girls never asked why they had no mother. He was their world, but they would be starting school, and Patrick wished he had answers. It would not be easy to tell them Charlotte and Caleb abandoned them.

Luliana and Darciana

His train of thought grew stressful about how he would explain their parent’s absence. The phone continued ringing and he could no longer ignore the vibration in his pocket. A work colleague wanted to send Patrick on a date. His friend was visiting from Salvadordra. Since Patrick was single, he thought they might be a match. Patrick knew the colleague’s wife, renowned for being jealous, disapproved of female friends. The likely outcome was they would meet; she would be out of his league and polite. After a pleasant evening, Patrick would take her number. Whenever he called they would be too busy for anything further. So why did he have butterflies? Luliana tilted her head. While having Nanny Hannah was exciting; she wondered why Patrick needed to tidy his beard.

Patrick swallowed, smoothing his hair, trying to look unruffled. Daciana decided to cry and beg him to stay; she clawed his shirt, wiping her tears and nose. The older toddler was going through a clingy phase. Patrick spent hours trying to settle her in the evenings. Food continued to make her feel unwell; the doctors were unable to explain her complaints. He arrived late, eyes landing on a tall, slender framed woman in her mid-30s. Short black hair, milk chocolate skin, and hazelnut eyes. If there were ever a moment Patrick wished he could freeze, it would be that first impression. The part of the date before he opens his mouth and she realises he is not worth her time. His palms felt sweaty, brushing them against his trousers with an apology. The woman lowered her eyes; a shy smile; her name was Leticia London.

Leticia and Patrick

They stood awkward; Patrick cleared his throat. How long did she plan to stay and should they indulge in popcorn during the movie. She let slip a giggle, unsure how to connect the two questions. Of course, she planned to stay for the film and longer-term, she was looking for work in Newcrest. Their mutual friend seemed adamant, arranging for her to meet his single friends. Patrick’s shoulders dropped. Leticia saw restaurants, clubs and bowling; no one asked if she was staying; or if she would like popcorn. None seemed as nervous as Patrick to be in her company. He was unclear if this was good; Leticia shrugged, unable to give him any genuine reassurance. The popcorn, however, was a definite. He offered his arm. Being a proper gentleman was unnatural for Patrick, but he wanted Leticia to feel special.

The movie bored; the papers wrote five stars. This implied a substantial plot, fleshy relatable characters and nail-biting action sequences. Patrick worried he was alone in his view. He sneaked glances at Leticia’s profile, admiring the curve of her nose. She yawned, fingers tapped against the chair arm, and the popcorn bowl empty. Leticia caught his eye, her elbow nudging his and pointing to the exit. movie patrons grumbled as their heads bobbed, disturbing the view. Patrick breathed heavy, relieved to discover daylight and ordering coffee. The barista raised an eyebrow, agreeing the movie was overblown nonsense.

Patrick pressed a coin into Leticia’s hand as she searched her bag. She had not played the arcades since she was a child. Leticia bobbed, rolling her eyes to the ceiling, the side of her mouth curled into a cheeky smile. A bet, any question personal or otherwise. Patrick stared at the machine confused. The flashing lights and electronic sounds pretend to be space engines. He dropped the coin, and the screen went black. From the bottom, the four-gun ship appeared, each manned by one player, with scores tallied. The aliens flashed across the top. Patrick tweaked his joystick, too slow for the quickening pace. Leticia racked up the total destroyed, a triumphant cheer. She hugged him, a surprised look on her face; she stepped back, embarrassed at her actions. Patrick had attempted to close the gap again, but her flustered apology made him wait. There would be time for romance. Patrick filled with hope as Leticia headed home; she wanted him to take her to the movies again.

Eliza: Hokum at the Romance Festival

Eliza wanted to reach out to her siblings and reconnect. She hoped to ease the guilt built up over the years. The silence given by Charlotte hurt; she had not returned any calls since leaving. The anger Eliza felt towards her sister grew over the months. Her disappointment with Charlotte’s continued silence after Vicky’s death. Their aunt supported Charlotte’s pregnancy, the least she could do was call Milly. Accepting Charlotte needed time away had long passed. Eliza refused to entertain her sister’s selfish behaviour any further. It was not alright to abandon family, Eliza learnt this the hard way. What Charlotte had done was worse as she neglected two innocent children.

Milly, Patrick and Eliza

Patrick squeezed Milly so tight a strained voice begged him to let go. He laughed, that same belly sound their father made when he pretended to be Father Winter. It seemed fatherhood suited him. Patrick moved on quickly from pleasantries to discussing the twins. Daciana seemed fascinated with Sparky. She loved to imitate him, snuggling at nap time and sitting with him to eat her dinner. The mention of the pup Eliza had to leave behind brought a wave of sadness and a yearning to have another pet. Luliana showed her true colours, becoming the more vocal of the two. She could also be a madam, reminding Eliza of Charlotte at that age. The younger twin demanded attention. Luliana followed Patrick or their nanny, talking loud. Patrick grumbled describing how she folded her arms in protest when naughty.

There was bitterness; while he gave the girls unconditional love, Patrick blamed himself. The similarity with Luliana increased his guilt. Patrick wished he had ended her relationship with Caleb. The man was older, and he charmed Emilie, as he did Charlotte. Caleb abandoned her during pregnancy, it devastated Charlotte. He was too blind to see it, Patrick realised then, he was not enough to hold his family together.

Eliza squeezed his hand, noting the glossy reflection in his eyes. They both carried the weight of blame. Milly had sat silent, munching her food, wondering if Patrick fancied a change of pace. Eliza had spoken of the festivals in San Myshuno, including the Romance festival. Patrick shook his head, needing to be back home. After his recent dates, Patrick thought it best to focus on the twins.

Eliza meeting with the Guru

The Romance Festival depicted a celebration of love. Couples came to take their vows and singles begged the Guru for positive vibes. The main draw came from the pink sakura tea. Milly’s eyes fell on the new neighbour Hunter who had joined their trip. He was tall, slender with broad shoulders and green hair. Milly felt this could not be his natural colour. His eyes matched, and if she was to guess by his dress, green was his favourite colour. He did not seem to notice her as he made a beeline for the food stall. Eliza was already distracted. Her school friend Lee had been telling jokes since they met him on the tube. As for the object of distraction, Scarlett, they were getting drinks from the bar. Milly moved off; she scanned the options. Merchandise stands, food stalls and the Guru held the interest of the majority. There were plants and flowers that a person could harvest and gift to their love. A white arch adorned with pink flowers sat central to the festival. Petals littered the floor, and benches arranged to create an aisle. Milly walked to the far corner. Here was the place to explore creative love. Four easels surrounded a board which hosted the city artists selling their work.

Eliza sipped the sakura tea. The effects were warm, and she could taste the sweet plum of the fruit with a salty aftertaste. It wasn’t bitter or unwelcome, but a perfect balance with a dizzying influence. People around her seemed to take on a pink aura. Eliza knew aliens possessed this gift. Their emotions through the design or their bodies emitted a vibrant glow. This tea gave mere mortal humans a temporary show. The design was to enhance the natural pheromones. Eliza hoped it might be enough to entice Scarlett. Her secret crush was laughing at another of Lee’s awful jokes. Eliza stood near the Guru, distracted, watching Scarlett. Tantalised by how their lips moved with the words. The flash of teeth as they laughed and the pink aura surrounding them. Lee had a girlfriend so he offered no threat to Eliza. Besides, Scarlett had expressed to him a preference for female companionship.

The Guru cleared their throat. As other patrons awaited their turn, Eliza realised they believed she was in the queue. Her eyes widened, agreeing to hear what her future held. The Guru glanced over Eliza and studied her palm. Their face fell, brows lowered, and lips pursed, with a reluctant tone shared how she would fail to hold onto love.

Eliza rolled her eyes and made her way through the couples. As a skeptic, she decided not to give weight to the words. There was a possible romance in her future, the red-head who made her heart beat faster. Scarlett had a soothing voice; it gave Eliza goose bumps. As the festival wound up, Scarlett touched Eliza’s arm. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, and a reddish tint flicked in the brown depths. It was a second, Eliza could still feel the place they touched. Their fingertips were soft, the place they rested tingled. Excitement fluttered in her stomach.

Eliza and Scarlett

Was it her imagination? The desire to lean in for a cheek kiss bubbled as they reached the apartment. Could she have enticed Scarlett? Eliza wanted to believe in magic for the first time. As they said goodbye, Eliza noticed Scarlett lingered, their lips parted. Milly called from inside the apartment, and whatever was on Scarlett’s mind had to be for another day. As would the kiss.

Eliza: Good Life Guilt

Eliza developed an increased sense of guilt; her life had improved through the years. There was the contract with San Myshuno Warriors; a place on their starting line-up. Her position as an all-star player would help the team in the Sim Nation play-offs for the central region. The coach prided themselves on the notion that they would get the coveted trophy. Their plan is to put San Myshuno Warriors at the front of everyone’s minds for the future.


Eliza wanted to celebrate the wonder that was now her life. She had come a long way, from renting to purchasing an apartment. A grin plastered on her face as she crushed on the red-headed neighbour. Milly teased encouragement to ask her over for dinner one evening. There were other areas keeping her grounded. She adapted to her role as guardian to her cousin Milly. Their prior relationship made the transition easier, at least for Eliza. It made her question if she should pursue romance. Since meeting Scarlett, Eliza found thoughts distracting, wondering how she might approach them. Milly was astute, but both knew Eliza would continue to hope for an accidental meeting in the hallway.

The relationship with her siblings remained strained. Patrick spoke to her about their nieces and his job. He was grateful for Eliza’s recommendation, the fresh air and plant life agreed with him. As for Charlotte, no one had heard from her. Eliza got a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. She understood why her disappearance broke her mother’s heart. Eliza often entertained how things could have worked if she had stayed home. Would they have noticed Charlotte struggled with the loss of their parents? It was the city visit where Charlotte met Caleb; had Eliza not moved here, would their paths have crossed? It was not something they could change, but Eliza believed herself responsible. She failed to care for her siblings and be a positive influence on them. With renewed determination, Eliza wanted to be a force of good in Milly and her niece’s lives.

The summer heat brought a host of new problems for Milly. In Brindleton Bay, her hair was windswept, in San Myshuno, thick heavy curls were a nightmare. Aside from them sticking to her neck, the frizz factor meant the other teens laughed. If she had stuck her wet fingers in a plug socket it might have been a good reason why she looked a mess. Milly loved her long hair, it made a great pillow when she dozed on the sofa. Eliza opted for a complete change, the short style suited her and was far more practical on the field. The hairdresser poked Milly’s tangled mop, wishing she could shave it off and start over. Instead, she handed over to a colleague who set to work on preparing the hair for the intricate braids. Milly winced as the hair pulled tight, the micro braids took hours making her wonder if it was worth doing. Her head ached and the weight and flow of her new hairstyle would take some getting used to. Sleep proved difficult, a night time routine of twisting and wrapping. Milly laughed at the silk bonnet but this would protect them for the next eight weeks.

Diya and Eliza

The building manager Diya seemed approachable. Eliza wondered why she worked for a company with a questionable reputation. Whenever there was an issue, she was on hand to fix electric cables and water pipes. The main complaint was the constant breaking of the garbage disposal. Eliza knew the building had limitations, but the garbage shoot broke every week. Diya accepted the problem; she said it gave her an excuse to get to know the building’s occupants. Of course, this included seeing the completed work on Eliza’s apartment. She gazed impressed with the layout; the space came alive, giving a sense of warmth. When Eliza was ready to sell up, the inviting nature created would fetch her a nice profit. Eliza wondered if they were looking to get rid of her already. The work had been a nuisance and at times an inconvenience. Diya laughed at the concerns; Eliza was welcome to stay. She shifted her feet; while she was not there to evict Eliza, she needed to inform her about their cat. Libby had decided her last moments were on a neighbour’s fresh laundry. Arrangements for the cremation were thanks to Mr Carrington, who sent his condolences. Eliza looked confused; Diya explained how he was a huge fan of San Myshuno Warriors. Mr Carrington hoped this was one less worry for its star player.

Milly: Into the City

The sense of loss deepened. Eliza brought energy to the quiet home, though nothing took away from Milly’s guilt. Knowing Vicky died here, alone, in a peaceful passing, the emphasis was on Milly failing to be at home with her. Going into Vicky’s room had been difficult, but Eliza could not spend three months on the sofa. Milly struggled to pack, trying to be specific and keeping hold of necessary trinkets. The place held three lives; for Milly, it was home, and she wanted to stay, clinging to the past. It’s what she feared; that leaving, those memories would fade. Eliza took down the paintings, she believed would be perfect for their apartment. The city would bring new inspiration for Milly’s art and ways they could honour Vicky and Ziva. Milly remained unconvinced. Everything she knew of life lived within these walls and selling felt disrespectful.


Libby seemed unfazed by the sudden upheaval. The treats and a well-deserved catnap in the crate did wonders as the train pulled into San Myshuno. As for the new apartment, Libby needed to explore. She discovered the warm spot by the electric fire and where the food supply resided. Milly had the choice of two rooms, the first felt warmest, but with no windows, it felt like a prison. The second offered a view; the brick wall of the opposite building and a rusty staircase. If she pressed her face to the glass, she could see through the alley to the children’s play area. The painting gave the room a sense of home. Unfortunately, the jackhammer and neighbouring voices were poor substitutes. She missed the fresh air, squawking seagulls, cats, dogs and the crashing waves. She longed for views over vast oceans, squinting to see the cargo ships.


Milly watched Eliza in the kitchen; she felt ungrateful for the effort her cousin was going to. Eliza provided a second journal, encouraging her to write everything she could remember. It was to keep safe the memories of her life with Vicky and Ziva, and the pets they kept. It would never be the same; Milly questioned her memories, already starting to forget her old life. Could she embrace the city life as Eliza did? Milly closed the book; it would be thoughts for another day. School started in the morning, and she needed to at least attempt to sleep.

Milly opted for the windowless room; the other she suggested would make a good art room or at least half of it. The room was in two parts as Eliza had intended on giving Milly a private bathroom. The builder wanted to exploit the time frame by doubling the cost so she shelved the idea. The other half made for an excellent workout zone. Eliza set up a yoga mat and punch bag, offering to teach her cousin. In her room, Milly kept Ziva’s electronic desk; it looked out of place with the rest of their furnishings. There seemed so little of Ziva around it was nice to hold onto what she did have.

Charlotte: As in Death

Caleb remembers; Vlad is a stickler for tradition. The coffin, funeral charade, and buried six feet down. Charlotte deserved better than fear as she was reborn to him. His hands trembled as the memories flooded his system. Caleb panicked; vampires had no need of breath unless speaking; his was rapid. The silence, blackness, the confines of the cotton-lined wooden box. Clawing the material, tearing, feet kicked, and fists pounded. The skin on his knuckles split, and the smell of his blood intensified his desire. Soil spilled in, pooling at his feet and along his sides. Caleb pulled the fractured wood into the coffin. He forced himself through the gap. Coughing, he held his breath and dug the soil in desperation to sate the growing hunger. His sister was waiting, and an impatient Vlad. Lillith looked over the brother’s soiled clothes. It was clear who Vlad favoured as she had fresh clothes waiting for her.

Caleb, Lillith and Vlad

Those first few moments as the newborn vampire reaches the surface are disorientating. Words twist inside; a reiteration of gabbled nonsense in a strange language. Lillith’s cheeks were flush, and blood rested on plump lips. Vlad tossed a plasma pack, which Caleb ripped into like an animal, spilling half the content on the ground. The sister giggled; Vlad took pleasure in preparing Lilith; her transformation was slow. They swapped blood across several nights. He treated her as a child born of two vampires, lacing her food with plasma fruit. Vlad mixed their blood, slowly injecting his poison into her system. It forced her shift to start before the finality of draining her blood.

It is how Caleb intended to turn Charlotte, to prepare her for the undead life. Discovering her pregnancy, Caleb believed her instincts as a mother would take over. He carried her body to the basement and ran the bath lukewarm. She looked asleep, eyes closed, lips parted. He expected her to giggle, and splash water at him as the cloth stroked the naked form. They had a shower once before, another steamy encounter as his touch tickled and caressed. Charlotte’s laughter was so loud he expected Patrick to discover them. Caleb paused, becoming a vampire; it changed him, disconnected him from the human he had once been. Fear set in; would Charlotte keep her childlike quality? Would they remain connected? This sire bond was permanent, yet Lillith outgrew Vlad. She demanded opportunities he could not offer her. What happens when he and Charlotte reach the crossroads? Mediums suggested some vampires had paths others could not follow. Love in his life remained temporary. Caleb clung to the idea, that this was forever.

Three days would pass from when her heart stopped to the flicker of her eyes. Caleb wanted Charlotte to awaken safe in his arms, her family none the wiser about her transition. He felt confident he could train her and stop her feasting on humans. To make things worse, Caleb was struggling with his hunger reawakened. As he dressed her body, it stiffened. Time was not on his side. Caleb lay, taking care to hold her close. The hardest part was trying to push the plasma packs he saved for her resurrection from his mind.

Charlotte and Caleb

In death, what would she feel? Were there bright lights, the faces of her loved ones, the welcoming arms of her ancestors? Or stillness, nothing and nowhere? Caleb whispered stories, uncertain if she would be aware of his presence. His recollection of the missing days was hazy. He died in pain and confusion, then awoke moments later hungry and scared.

She was not in the body. There was nothing to see that she would recall, but the feeling was peaceful. Charlotte felt tethered by an invisible thread, a kite dancing on a gentle breeze and safe. Her heart filled with Caleb’s offered blood. The virus multiplied and claimed her cells. It started as a dull ache in her heart, pressure building in the chambers. Harrowing pain burned through her body. A thousand needles stabbed her muscles; they twitched, contorting her. A coffin restrained these movements. Seeing them, Caleb understood why containment at birth was necessary. Charlotte screamed, an involuntary release of the air remaining in her lungs. She bolted upright, and her purple eyes popped open.

The first image includes “Funeral Grief and grave poses”


The second image pose comes from

Charlotte: Blood Rite

Part Two

Her eyes pleaded; Caleb backed away; he could feel the weight of Vlad, his voice warning him what would happen. Curtains twitched; Charlotte swore she would find a way to live immortal. Either Caleb turned her, or she would knock on every door and welcome death if that’s what they offered. A life without him was not how Charlotte planned to exist. He dragged her to his home. Charlotte wailed, loathing her children, the body that bore those human creatures. Worse, hatred for herself, those bitter feelings she assured would pass. Every day she forced herself to look at her children, to feel the love a mother should have. Charlotte felt nothing.

Caleb and Charlotte

He let go; Caleb’s mind clouded in a red mist; Charlotte exposed her neck, the invitation to make her his mate. His dark form seized control; teeth sank deep into the carotid artery. Blood rushed into Caleb’s mouth, bubbled around the seal of his lips on her neck. Charlotte held on; her nails dug into his jacket against the pain. Caleb squeezed her body tighter, biting harder, and a weak yelp escaped her lips.

Charlotte tasted bile, her stomach twisted, tightening. Her heartbeat quickened, pumping more blood through her ruptured throat. Her shallow breaths rasped in Caleb’s ear. Icy sensations flowed through her feet and up her legs. Fingers numbed, loosening her grip. Charlotte shivered, skin grew pale as Caleb feasted. Her eyes glazed, the world appeared foreign, and words failed to hold meaning or sense.

Caleb and Charlotte

The body felt limp and cold, the intense blue eyes which captivated him, dimed. Caleb ripped his teeth from her neck, shaking her, his body hummed, warm, aroused. He licked the blood oozing from her neck. Her head dropped back; his eyes widened, gripping her tighter. Caleb carried her inside away from prying neighbours. A sharp nail sliced his wrist, allowing the blood to drip into her mouth. Charlotte struggled to swallow. He tilted her head back further to open her throat. The blood from her carotid artery had slowed; her heart stopped, beat, then stopped.

Caleb pushed down on her sternum, the blood sprayed from her mouth but he did not stop. Tears stung his eyes, as her ribs cracked with his weight. He added pressure to the wound and forced more blood into her throat. Caleb moved behind, lifting the dead weight to a seated position. He held her mouth shut by dropping her chin to chest. Stroking the oesophagus to mimic swallowing he hoped it was enough. When he could no longer hear the occasional heartbeat, the body cold and still, Caleb waited.

Caleb’s Bite pose can be found here

The carrying pose can be found here

Charlotte: Blood Rite

Part One

Forgotten Hollow, as its name suggests, is a hamlet. A quiet place off the beaten track surrounded by dark, foreboding trees. Five homes surrounded an empty park, once a vibrant place; filled with children. Caleb could recall playing there with his sister Lilith. Their laughter echoed in his mind, a life long forgotten when Vlad came to rip the sun from their world.

The mansion, a blackened building from years of neglect, became home to Vlad Strauss. He was a tall, slender, and pale man. Lilith became fascinated with him, and into his blood-driven world, they and this place fell. Lilith left some years ago, no longer able to stand the sight of the master, his heartless perspective. Caleb wanted to remember if the sun shone bright, or it seemed that way in his memories. The hamlet remained dull. When summer came, there was a thick air, as though looking at the world through a dusty lens or at a faded photograph.


Vlad suspected Caleb was drawing attention to the protected space they resided in. Humans were rare in these parts. The odd hiker stumbled through lost. They either disappeared or were sent on their way dazed and confused by their experience. Whatever happened, they never returned.

The encounter with Charlotte and the taste of her blood changed him. Caleb rediscovered his darker tendencies, a desire for human blood. The majority here received plasma donations from the hospital. Alongside the plasma fruit, they lived normal lives. Many had jobs and social evenings without the fear of discovery. These blessed vampires had the power to walk in the sun. It was also a curse, to maintain themselves, they were weak, strength akin to a human. Some evolved to eat food laced with plasma fruit making it easier to blend into human society. His sister was the latter.

Vlad noted Caleb was losing that control. An increased order of plasma for a single vampire was dangerous. He would bring the force of the Spellcasters, a group Vlad despised or worse. Vampires who craved fresh human blood needed incarceration. Forced into slumber, a nailed coffin buried in an unmarked grave for eternity. Vlad cut off his supply, leaving Caleb with plasma fruit, a poor substitute. Human blood made them stronger, enhanced their powers, and satisfied their needs.

Caleb wrestled with stories, buried vampires starved to the point of insanity. A resting place disturbed after centuries decimated a third of sim nation. He salivated at the thought of bodies ripped apart, devoured. The slaughter of humans, fae, wolves and llamas in a bloodthirsty rampage. Vlad was a young man, human when to save his village, the life he knew, he chose to become one to stop them. Other hunters, consumed by the demonic virus became the embodiment of living death. Neither human nor Vampire, stuck in transformation, are referred to as zombies. Their bodies were nailed into the coffins and laid to rest at the side of Vlad’s home. Caleb could hear their screams, it added to his torment and the desperation he was feeling to devour a human.

So why did she have to come?

Charlotte and Caleb

Caleb avoided Patrick’s calls. He stopped looking for Charlotte when the hunt took control. Lilith brought him back to Forgotten Hollow, giving him her supply. She encouraged him to order the plasma packs, on the condition he mixed them with plasma fruit. He had ignored Lilith’s conditions needing the purest form. Caleb waited with desperation, wanting a human to pass through.

It was her; the scent waivered through his nostrils as they flared. The blonde hair, teary eyes and puffy cheeks, her arms pulled tight around her body for warmth. He had never brought her here, but she sat in the park. Her presence taunted him. Charlotte’s blood sent him down this road. The intimacy when his veins filled; went beyond hunger and lust; it was all-consuming. The feeling drove him against the setting sun. The final rays blistered his skin; Caleb felt none of that; his focus was on her.