The Final Messenger

5. Strawberry's Insides

Her smile is soft and sweet, as if she's met an old friend. Niryn can tell it's genuine. She doesn't look the part of a stalker. In fact, she exudes elegance and a quiet charm.

The mistress of the house speaks first.

"Niryn, this is Adria. Adria, meet Niryn."

What? Don't give her my name, you fuck! Niryn's head is screeching.

"You're The Final Messenger." Adria's voice sounds just as soft as her smile. There is a sort of staccato that bleeds through her speech, a slight accent, though Niryn can't place where. That might just be due to her nervousness however.

Niryn irritatedly clicks her tongue. "Who calls me that?"

Adria is taken aback at first, but returns to her faint smile once again.

"Everyone."

She still doesn't get what she means, but now she's starting to notice other things about Adria besides her accent. Like how she's partially albino, with eyes the colour of the underside of salmon and peaches. Or how she's wearing her hair in an elaborate chignon now, not a braid. Or how her clothes look something out of the Victorian or some other long bygone era, not 2019.

"You... who are you?" Niryn speaks slowly and deliberately.

At first, it seems like the other girl doesn't know how to answer the question. Her pink eyes flit across from Lydia, the mistress of the house, then towards Victor. A few seconds later, she comes to a conclusion.

"I'm a guest. I'll be living here, only for a while. I am one of them."

She stares pointedly at the two maids in the corner. Then it seems she realises the implication, and starts flickering her eyes between Lydia and Victor.

So, a vampire then? Niryn's mind immediately rushes to think of the logistics of handling five, now what is it? Six vampires. Insanity. Absolute, sheer insanity. There is no way she can feed that amount of mouths in a month without being noticed.

But the girl does say she is only here to stay for a while. Maybe that even means a short while. This arrangement is only temporary, Niryn thinks, trying to stamp the crashing wave of cascading thoughts in her mind.

"Do you have family?" Niryn asks.

At first Adria gently nods, but quickens into shaking her head no.

"I have some in Iceland, but they're not like me. They are all human. I... have no one here."

"I see, and how long are you —"

Victor steps in with a curt, "She doesn't feed. Only animals and herself."

Niryn is stunned. She auto-cannibalises herself. Could one's own blood sustain a vampire? Suddenly, Niryn's heart races faster.

"You feed on yourself?" Niryn asks, voice tilting at the end.

Adria gives a shy nod.

Fascinating.

"And how long have you been doing it?"

"Three months."

That's... a lot of time. For a moment, she even feels pity for the creature. Niryn glimpses down at her arms and legs. Her legs are covered by stockings, but her arms unmistakably bear faint crescent indents.

"But I cannot do it two days in a row. I have to wait a few days before feeding again. Usually I feed on animals like rabbits or cats while gaining my strength back."

It is now that Lydia intercepts the conversation, stepping forward with a hand gesture.

"Why don't we talk it over lunch?" she says, a handsome grin on her face.