As she grew older the teeth became too noticeable and the villagers started to talk; one day the mayor came with priests and others to take the child away ‘for her own good.’
The mother agreed, not intending for a moment to go along with any of it. Instead, she took the little girl to the woods.
“If God sees fit for you to survive you will, my child. Forgive me.”
She left the child there and since she could not live with what she had done, she killed herself. The girl, barely five, wept for days. She wept until she was rescued.
Ironically it was a coven of vampires that saved her, taking care of her, eventually telling her that they would never force their world upon her nor their way of existing.
“If you decide to enter our world, it will be your decision.”
And so it was, for when she was no longer a child but a young woman she allowed herself to be created. When she tasted the master’s blood, she saw his entire existence. And she was moved and wept for she saw savagery and persecution.
“We are hunted down and always shall be, for what we are. I regret you are one of the afflicted now…”
She said she didn’t mind for she loved her coven and him and they returned that love.
But all was not well for one day vampire destroyers came and they wiped out those she thought of as family.
She hid in the forest, frightened lest they find her, for she had seen what they did--the staking and beheading and she feared for herself.
A year went by with her hiding in caves and feeding on whatever small animals she could find.
Yet this could not last for she was lonely. She missed her coven and yearned to be a part of something again.
When she could no longer stand the solitude she wandered some distance, and came in sight of a village. It looked like a small settlement.
She still feared destroyers, but her lonely heart pushed her forward and so she went, stopping at a small cottage just on the outskirts.
It was dark and she could see light from within. How inviting it looked to her, for in the far recesses of her mind she did recall such a cottage. Actually she was remembering the one she was born in.
This was when the housemaid saw her.
“Are you a wood spirit?” she asked, for she was a simple girl with a good heart. “Whatever you are, I should like to offer you some food.”
The maid’s voice startled the girl. “I cannot,” she called out, slipping back into the shadows.
But the housemaid was persistent and the girl acquiesced and walked toward the open door.
It wasn’t until she smiled that the housemaid gasped. For her teeth were truly frightening—worse than they had ever been. Still, she insisted the girl have soup and bread.
© Copyright 2012 Carole Gill