For Love of Evil - [Roman Godfrey/Hemlock Grove]

-43-

The smell of alcohol and a twinge of bleach lingers in the air. Lyra sits at the bar, drinking. For the past year, it was all she could do to stall the thoughts and feelings. It was difficult to control; she was on sensory overload - feeling every emotion every person felt when in close proximity.

She could have chosen to spend her life holed up in her lavish apartment, but what life would that be? She needed to feed occasionally - to suck the energy from other life, preferably men. She liked to call it "shine," because of the bright aura that surrounded them. When she felt weak, she could find the "shine" anywhere, in anyone.

Everyday was a constant struggle - she was now a monster. She often wished that she had perished at the hands of Olivia; the nothingness she experienced in death would have been better than the obsessive need to live on the "shine."

Lyra wasn't sure why she needed it so badly. Most men didn't have much to offer. Lyra fed off their passion, their lust in the throes of ecstasy when she gave them her body.

She also inhabited their guilt. She recalled one in particular bar patron she had picked up; he wouldn't stop thinking about his girlfriend, and how she was bound to find out about their sexual encounter. It took weeks to be rid of the man's guilt, to face herself in the mirror again. She often wondered if the young man's girlfriend had ever found out.

It was a double edged sword. Lyra got what she needed from the desperate men, but also more than she bargained for. She carried with her their guilt, regret and even their ego at times. Sometimes, the power wasn't worth it. Most times, the bad outweighed the good.

That was why she never liked stealing the shine from women. As badly as she didn't want to admit it to herself, women were complicated. She had given it a try a few times, only to find that women harbored intense insecurities, jealousy and too much attachment. Lyra didn't like those feelings, particularly because she carried too much of that on her own.

Most of that came from Roman. She thought about him everyday, wondering how he was and if he had let his monster take control of his life like hers had.

Lyra was closer than ever to finding Peter, but wasn't sure if she could hold out any longer. She had already made up her mind, she was going back to Hemlock soon, to make sure Roman was well - despite being advised against it. Olivia was still a threat. She was sure the town had forgotten her face by now. But her plan was to find Peter first.

Lyra turned up her drink; it was time to call it a night. She wasn't in the mood to steal anyone's shine - she was too exhausted for that. Her own thoughts were too distracting - overwhelming.

Lyra grabbed her purse, hoping that tomorrow night would be better. She smoothed the wrinkles in her tight blue dress, making her way out of the bar and into the night.