Patient B-2

Chapter Nineteen: Wrath

A year ago, if someone had asked me whether I could envision myself collaborating with Idalia, I would have probably laughed in their face. But if they had followed that up by informing me that Avalyn was still among the living and that we had buried a vampire in transition alive, then I wouldn't have just laughed in your face- I would have bashed it in.

The sobs have finally quieted, leaving behind an unsettling void within me. In the stillness of the night, the photograph remains clutched in my hand, a tangible connection to the past that feels both comforting and haunting. Cierien and I have spent every moment of the past week lying side by side, forsaking sleep just to gaze upon it as if trying to etch every detail into our memories. It's as if we fear that if we don't, the image will fade away, slipping from our grasp like a fragile dream.

She appears both familiar and foreign, a paradox of change and consistency captured in one frame. Her once-dark locks now shimmer in a bold platinum hue, a striking departure from the shadow of her natural roots peeking through. Dark tattoos wind down her arms, their full extent concealed by the cutoff of the photo, leaving me intrigued about the stories they tell. Twin nose piercings catch the light, adorned with delicate studs, while a slender hoop rests in the center, adding an intriguing symmetry to her features. A silver bar boldly punctuates her eyebrow. Each detail tells a tale of transformation, a mosaic of her journey unfolding before my eyes.

A newfound maturity graces her features, lending an air of wisdom beyond her years, yet her youthful essence remains untouched. Time seems to have frozen her at the cusp of adulthood, forever preserving the visage of a twenty-year-old. Despite the external transformations, some things endure unaltered. Her eyes still sparkle with an unyielding brightness, reflecting a spirit untouched by time's passage. A genuine smile adorns her lips, the corners curling upwards with a familiar warmth that speaks of authenticity and joy. In her gaze and smile lies an immutable essence, a reminder that amidst change, some things remain beautifully constant.

And she is- so very beautiful.

The outward changes merely scratch the surface; it's the inward metamorphosis that truly captivates me. There must have been a myriad of profound shifts within her, guiding her to ally herself with the very woman who once claimed both her life and that of her dearest friend. This decision bewilders me, yet oddly, I find myself incapable of summoning any anger or resentment towards her. Instead, I'm left contemplating the depths of her transformation, pondering the inner odyssey that brought her to this unexpected point of alignment. Perhaps therein lies the genuine testament to her evolution- a journey not only marked by external alterations but by the profound transfiguration of her soul.

Truly, there's nothing she could ever do to upset me again. For above all else, she's alive. My beautiful girl- alive, breathing, and just within reach. In the grand scheme of things, nothing else holds importance besides that simple, miraculous fact.

"Do you think she's okay?" Cierien's murmured question pierces through the silence, his head nestled against my chest as we both fixate on the bright eyes captured in the photograph.

The unspoken truth lingers palpably in the air between us, a looming shadow we've opted to skirt around in our relentless pursuit of her. The unsettling prospect that she might be enduring unspeakable horrors, fragmented and reassembled, remains unacknowledged, buried beneath the urgency of our mission to locate her. We've consciously chosen to evade confronting this grim reality, funneling all our energy into the tireless hunt for her whereabouts, clutching onto the hope that a breakthrough will draw us nearer to her safe return.

"She's alive," I whisper, my voice barely audible as I fight against the swelling pressure in my throat, determined to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.