Isolde's gaze transformed, shifting from shock to an intense anger that pierced through the boy like a dagger. He stumbled backward, losing his balance, and tumbled from the tree branch he had been perched upon.
'She looked right into my eyes, unafraid. That's not the gaze of a normal girl her age,' he mused, brushing dirt off his back as he leaned against the tree's rugged bark. He closed his eyes momentarily, a faint chuckle escaping his lips. 'Her glare seared into my retinas.'
A sinister smile began to creep across his face as he continued to speak, his tone low and dripping with dark intent.
"I've never experienced such an intense emotion. It only fuels my desire for her."
His expression twisted into a feral grin.
"This sensation is so intoxicating that I can't help but obsess over her. There's no doubt, she's a truly special human."
His laughter took on a chilling note.
*Flashback.*
Azrael sank his fangs into her delicate neck, and she whimpered in response. Her face flushed a deep crimson as she clutched onto Azrael's shirt, her grip desperate, before she succumbed to unconsciousness. Her blood flowed over his chin, its scent a tantalizing perfume that sent his hunger into a frenzy. He was ravenous for her, craving more than just her blood as his own body began to heat up in response. He yearned for her in ways he couldn't comprehend.
But as he stared at her pale, unconscious face, a sense of wrongness crept over him. His fangs retracted, and he let out a groan filled with anguish and confusion. A tidal wave of remorse and agony washed over him, leaving him haunted by his actions.
Azrael found himself questioning his own actions, a sense of horror creeping over him. "What am I doing? Why do I suddenly feel this way?" he wondered, his wide eyes reflecting the turmoil within. His heart raced in his chest as he gazed at her, noticing the delicate beauty in her flushed cheeks and the peacefulness that adorned her sleeping form. A profound realization struck him, and he couldn't bear to harm her any longer.
"Suddenly, I don't want to hurt her," he muttered, shaking his head in an attempt to break the spell that held him. Yet, his focus on her remained unyielding. Involuntarily, he drew her closer to him, bringing her neck closer to his lips. With deliberate tenderness, he extended his tongue to lick the bite mark he had inflicted on her neck. As he did, a warm, tingling sensation coursed through him. He continued to lick the blood that dripped from the wound, watching as it ceased to flow, and the mark itself began to heal. With satisfaction, he swallowed the blood, savoring its flavor before finally releasing her and burying his face in the crook of her neck.
Gently, he laid her down on the porch floor, contemplating his next move. "I don't know where her room should be, and I don't want to be caught while searching," he mused. "So, I'll leave her here." With that decision, he departed the scene.
*Flashback Ends.*
Azrael couldn't help but lick his lips, a carnal desire coursing through him as he thought of Isolde. His body was engulfed in a searing heat, as if he were being consumed by an insatiable flame. The sensation was both painful and euphoric, rendering him nearly immobile, his breaths shallow and irrational.
"Control yourself, Azrael," he chided himself in a low growl. Pushing himself upright, he steadied his stance. "Let's just watch her for now," he muttered under his breath, a dark intensity lurking in his crimson eyes.
***
Isolde turned her gaze away from the window and offered Sister Celestia a warm smile as the nun helped her tie her hair. Once the task was complete, Sister Celestia took Isolde by the hand and led her out of her room.
Exiting the orphanage, they made their way to the waiting carriage, the last one in line for departure. As they reached the church, Sister Celestia exited first and held the door open for Isolde to follow.
Isolde's eyes were drawn to the magnificent structure of the sacred hall. It stood as a grand testament to faith, its towering spires seeming to reach for the heavens. Sculptures of angels adorned the exterior, their outstretched wings evoking a sense of divine protection. Every surface was adorned with intricate stonework, imbuing the church with an air of sanctity.
Massive oak doors, etched with intricate vine patterns, guarded the entrance, beneath which hung a crucifix. It served as a tangible connection to the divine.
Stepping inside, Isolde marveled at the ribbed vaults that soared high above. Arches and flying buttresses framed the sacred space, and the stained glass windows bathed the interior in a kaleidoscope of colors, casting intricate patterns of light onto the stone floor.
The sacred hall held an air of ancient mysticism, with its dark wooden pews intricately carved with patterns of entwined roots and thorns, as if it held the secrets of a hidden forest. The heart of the sacred place was the grand altar, a masterful work of artistry, adorned with intricate carvings that seemed to pulse with holiness.
Rows of candles, held in ornate holders, lined the aisles, their flickering flames casting enchanting shadows, making the sacred hall feel like a portal to another realm. Along the stone walls, candles in sconces danced with flames, their whispered secrets echoing softly.
The bell tower, a sentinel reaching skyward, summoned the faithful with its solemn chimes that resonated through the town, drawing people to the house of worship.
Sister Celestia and Isolde found solace in one of the back pews, bathed in the gentle, flickering candlelight. Sister Celestia's hands rested in prayer, and Isolde followed her lead, lowering her head and offering her own murmured devotions.
As the priest commenced the Mass with a welcoming address, his voice filled the hall, its echoes amplifying the sanctity of the moment. Yet, within Isolde's mind, another voice echoed, a sinister presence that sought to entice her with dark whispers.
"Listen to me," it beckoned, and Isolde's eyes widened as its seductive call coursed through her thoughts. "You don't belong here. No one wants you here."
She clenched her eyes shut, resisting the temptation to heed the voice's words. It continued, its tone cajoling, urging her towards malevolent desires. "Embrace me already! Stop trying to run away, mistress! I know you want to tear them all to shreds, and I can do that for you."
Isolde fought back the rising darkness within her, struggling to silence the sinister voice that threatened to consume her soul.