For a while, there was a vast nothingness. I had succumbed to the void and assimilated to it. There was no pain or joy. Only the slight general feeling of reprieve. It was only when the sound of a door unlocked, my heavy eyes fluttered open.

“Victorine, my love, you have risen,” the tall shadow spoke softly. I lay upon a large feathered bed. Massive aubergine curtains hung closed from high-up curtain rods. Every piece in this immense room was extravagant even draped in shadow. I peered down and realized I was still in my party dress yet it now had a brown stain trailing down from the right side. Then it all came rushing back to me, the ball, the gorgeous stranger and my death. With a heavy arm, I reached the side of my neck. My fingertips brushed the two tiny bumps of hardened flesh. To my surprise, they had already healed.

“Am I dead?” I weakly wheezed. My throat was sore and dry. The figure turned to face me, his dark cloak following shortly in turn.

“Not dead, little love. Reborn,” he affirmed, his crimson eyes glowed with quiet excitement. He turned his back to me once more and I heard the sound of liquid being poured. It was ever so clear even from afar. I shifted my legs off the side of the bed and pushed myself up off it. I felt exhausted yet awake, nauseous but starving, skin boiling but still shivering. I reached for the curtain. The fabric was soft yet heavy in my hands. It must have been three times thicker than any regular window covering. I tried to open the curtain but in a weakened state, I could barely shed any light in the room. The tiniest sliver of light poked through and I felt the sunlight burn the skin on my shoulder. It was a sharp piercing pain that caused me to let out a loud yelp.

“Victorine!” the man exclaimed as he put down a teapot on a wooden side table. He huffed as he made his way across the room. I ran my fingers over my now blistered burn. I watched as it started to heal itself in a dazed awe. The man yanked on the curtains and shut them. Close to me now, I could smell him once more. I couldn’t explain it but he smelt like safety, like home.

“You must be careful, my sweet dove,” he whispered as he caressed my wound. His voice sang like the sweetest melody in my ears. Yet even through his hypnotic presence, something gnawed at my core.

“Why do you call me Victorine, sir?” I asked, trembling. He lightly took hold of my arm and guided me back to bed. He assisted by lifting my legs back up and over and brushed the hair away from my face. He flashed a sweet smile and returned to the teapot.

“Let me tell you a story,” he hesitated, stirring the liquid. The metal scraping on the porcelain teacup made my achy head throb. “Centuries ago, across land and sea, I met the most beautiful creature with a death wish. I found her gasping for air as she bled out into the night. I took pity on her and gave her a second chance at life. At first, she was angry with me but after a time, she realized that with her new form, she could finally see what the world had to offer. We travelled the world, making the night ours.” he paused as he brought over the cup. He took a seat on the side of the bed and brought the porcelain cup to my cracked lips. His other hand cupped the back of my head, gently guiding me with every sip. The liquid tasted of metal and pickled my tongue with spices. Yet, in my fatigued state, I was grateful to consume anything.

“Swiftly, we fell in love. We both knew that our love was beyond what any mortal could comprehend.  Eternal devotion, everlasting bliss and carnal passion.” His voice sent a chill down my back and goosebumps up my arms.

“We thought we would be together, forever, but someone had other plans. I returned home one evening and found my world with a wooden stake in it,” he spat as I laid my head back on the pillow, my gaze fixated on him. He placed the cup on the nightstand, then reached into his breast pocket and removed a satin handkerchief. His brow furrowed as he lightly wiped the corners of my mouth clean. He folded the used fabric delicately and placed it in his side pocket as he turned to face the obscured window.

“I could never accept that fate. I went to every witch, warlock and wizard I could get my hands on. I would not dare rest until I could hold her in my arms once more. I scoured the entire planet until I found a powerful necromancer who claimed I could bring her back, for a price. No price was too great for her, nothing would hold me from having her returned to me,” he explained turning back to face me. This close to him, I found drops of amber in his piercing red eyes. I watched how they glowed as he continued.

“Thirty years after her passing, I heard her cries from an alley. I dashed to her only to find her bleeding once more into the night. I held my love as I felt her fade in my arms but I could feel her warmth beneath me. She had returned to the world, human. I was not about to lose her again and so I gave her the gift of rebirth once more," he affirmed with a tightened jaw. He stood up from the bed and walked towards the dark oak door. He stopped in his tracks and turned his head to the side.

“You are the seventh reincarnation of my Victorine. You felt it, that night our eyes met from across the ballroom floor. We were and will always be drawn to one another my eternal love,” he cooed.

My head felt like he had grown ten sizes. I tried to search the corners of my mind but everywhere within was blank. I had so many questions without the wherewithal to speak.

“Rest now, my dark darling,” he whispered as he shut the door behind him.