Their hands met awkwardly at first, their fingers fumbling for a proper hold, but Lukas, with the calm presence of someone who had seen much in life, began to guide Shiloh gently. "Relax," he whispered, feeling her tension. He stepped in close, placing her right hand on his shoulder and taking her left in his hand, keeping a steady rhythm with soft, deliberate movements.
"Just follow me," he said, his voice soothing.
They started slowly, Lukas leading her in small, careful steps. His foot slid back, hers followed; a simple motion repeated in a graceful pattern. The snow began to fall gently around them, like tiny flakes of silver, landing on their clothes and hair, giving the night an almost dreamlike quality. The soft crunch of snow under their feet provided a rhythm, matching the violin's slow, mournful tune that filled the air.
The fire from the obsidian tree cast flickering light over them, making the snow shimmer and glow as it drifted lazily to the ground. The cold air nipped at their skin, but neither of them felt it as they danced together. Each step grew more confident, each movement smoother. The awkwardness between them melted away, replaced by something quiet and intimate.
Above them, the sky was an endless stretch of darkness, broken only by the soft snowfall and the warm glow of the flames. The world around them was still, as if this moment was all that existed-just the two of them, the firelit tree, and the gentle fall of snow.
" When are you supposed to grab my hips?" she teased, her playful smirk back on her lips.
Lukas chuckled. "We've got a few more steps until that part," he replied, keeping the pace of the dance steady. "But before that, I've got a question for you."
Shiloh raised an eyebrow. "There's nothing to know about me, Lukas."
"Fine," he said with a sly grin. "I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you something about me, and you tell me something about you. Fair?"
She considered for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, you go first."
Lukas took a breath, and his expression grew more serious. "Fair enough. So, I had a sister. We didn't get along at first. Honestly, I think we hated each other." He glanced down at their feet, the rhythm of the dance now second nature. The snowfall intensified, dusting their shoulders, but he barely noticed. "But as I got older, I started to appreciate her more. I had so many problems with the world-never anyone I really trusted. No matter how hard I tried, I never had the answers for what life threw at me."
Shiloh listened quietly, her steps falling in line with his, through her eyes began to soften.
"She did, though," Lukas continued. "She always had the answers. Made sense of things. As she grew up, she became the only family I felt I had. The only one I could trust. The only one I loved." His voice grew quieter, as if the memory pulled him into a different world. "She helped me find my way. Made me want to be better. And I did. Slowly, I turned things around. Started helping people. Small acts of kindness. Seeing her happy, in a world that was so miserable, it was... everything to me. Keep me going."
The snow picked up a bit, swirling gently around them, and for a moment, it felt as if the world held its breath.
Shiloh's smile faded, her expression growing more stoic, almost distant. "But that's not how it ends, is it?" she asked quietly, her eyes meeting his.
Lukas looked at her, the warmth from the tree flickering between them, casting shadows over her face. "No," he said softly, the sadness unmistakable in his voice.
"There was a fire..." Lukas said, his voice trembling as if he still couldn't believe the words. "To put it simply, it was just... a fire. As much as I'd like to say the vampires were behind it, and she died in some epic fight-it was nothing like that. It was just a damn fire."
He paused, taking a deep breath, his eyes glistening with tears that threatened to spill. "I can still feel it. That fire... when I think about it, it slowly engulfs everything. The smoke... it floods everything, choking the life out of you." His voice cracked, and for a moment, he seemed like he couldn't find the words to continue.
Shiloh stopped dancing. Gently, she reached up, cupping his face in her hand. Her eyes locked onto his, and she whispered, "Just let it out."
Lukas swallowed hard, the emotion too raw to contain. "We tried to save as many people as we could. Maybe six or seven. It all happened so fast, and then... then there was this popping sound. Just a build-up and then... a loud bang." His voice dropped to almost a whisper. "My sister... She knew what was coming. Before I could even react, she pushed me out a window, right into the river below. And then... she was gone. Just like that. She went up with the explosion."
His words trailed off, and he couldn't say anymore. The weight of the memory sat heavy between them.
Shiloh smiled softly, her eyes warm but sad. "I think you're a good man, Lukas. And I think you want to be. There are so few of you left. I'm just... surprised I found you."
Lukas wiped his eyes, nodding as the weight of her words sunk in. "Well, I held up my end of the bargain," he said, his voice rough. "It's your turn."
The slow dance resumed, their movements almost in rhythm with the falling snow around them. Shiloh hesitated, then nodded. "Fair enough," she said quietly. "I'll be dead tonight. And you'll be the only one left to remember me."
Shiloh's voice was steady at first, though the weight of her words grew heavier with each sentence. "I had a daughter. I didn't think it was possible for me to have one, but yeah... I did. And, to my surprise, she wasn't a freak like me." She chuckled darkly, though there was no humor in it. "Funny enough, I don't feel much of anything anymore."
She took a breath and continued. "I was a test subject, a lab rat. They ran endless experiments on me, twisted my body like Laffy Taffy, just to see what I could withstand. You know, when you've seen the worst that life has to throw at you, really don't get scared anymore. But... bringing a kid into the world? That scared me."
Her gaze drifted as she recalled her past. "I was part of a cult for a while-those worshipers of Mother. When I told them I'd had a child, it threw everything they believed into chaos. Me being able to have a kid didn't fit with their idea of who-or what-I was. So, they tried to kill me."
Her laugh this time was bitter. "I couldn't flee to the US-I was already wanted after breaking free and killing the scientists who tortured me. But eventually, I found this little forest, the one we're in now. It's where I had her. My daughter. She lived here, safe, for a while."
Shiloh paused and started to laugh, but it was a different kind now-one tinged with nostalgia and sadness. "Kids are pretty dumb, but she was adorable. Always made me laugh, her eyes always filled with wonder. Watching her grow up, live the life I never could... it completed something inside me. She got to have the childhood that was stolen from me. And that... that made me happy. For the first time, I actually felt it."
Her smile faltered, and her voice softened. "I didn't know if I could be a proper mother. I guess that's what most moms feel. But... I didn't get the chance to find out. Like you, I didn't lose my loved one in some heroic way."
Her face darkened. "One day, the people I ran from found me. Instead of wasting manpower to come after me... they just dropped a bomb. One second, she was smiling. And then... she was gone."
Tears welled up in her eyes, and as the pain hit, her quiet crying turned into sobs. Lukas, without hesitation, wrapped her in his arms, holding her close. Her body shook against his, the weight of her grief pouring out.
"I just don't know what to do," she whispered, her voice breaking.
Lukas held her tighter, his voice soft and calming. "You do the only thing you can do. You enjoy the moment. Enjoy the peace and the quiet. Let it wash over you. Let the world stop, even if it's just for a second. Forget all the pain, the troubles, the worries." He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet her eyes. "And don't forget little moments like this."
Shiloh looked up at him, her tears slowing, as he whispered, "Just hold me, and forget everything."
Everything was quiet. Lukas wasn't sure how long they'd been standing there-maybe ten minutes, though it felt like an hour. The stillness wrapped around him, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he could think. Really think.
Where would he go if he survived this? He had no real plans, no sense of direction. His blood type-A positive-wasn't particularly valuable, but it was enough to keep him alive just long enough for the vampires to get what they wanted. In his world, your blood was sampled at birth, and by the time you reached a certain age, it was harvested.
He'd never been considered prime stock, so his life had been simple but brutal. Work until he dropped, then get drained when his usefulness ran out. Until then, he was just another cog in the machine-fixing the simple, repetitive tasks they gave him, running machines that kept the vampires' world turning. He knew, deep down, that he'd probably starve before he got too old. Or maybe some vampire would get bored and kill him off before he even reached his 'retirement.'
That's how they kept you, he thought bitterly. So busy, so drained of everything that you couldn't even think about freedom.
Freedom. The word scared him. To Lukas, it was like a concept straight out of a Lovecraftian nightmare-something he could grasp in theory but never truly imagine. What would it even mean? What did it look like, feel like? He had never known it, not really.
Then there were the bigger questions, the ones gnawing at him now. Has he been good? A good person? Was there a God or a Devil pulling the strings? Could he look in the mirror and be proud of the life he'd lived? Could he rebuild himself after all this?
Where would he go if he escaped? Where would he run? Would he die alone, or would he find someone to share his life with? Wherever he ended up, would he be happy? Or would his life be nothing more than a series of fleeting moments, forgotten as soon as they ended?
Everyone he knew was dead, he reminded himself. Except for Shiloh.
But then he thought of something else-something small but important. He'd made people happy. In the midst of all the misery, he'd put a smile on the faces of those he cared about. He made Shiloh happy, even in her darkest moments. And that, more than anything, was invaluable.
Lukas sighed. That was something worth holding on to. Maybe the only thing.
A gentle breeze whispered through the air, soft and welcoming. It felt almost... friendly, like it had been invited. But as quickly as it arrived, it faded. Shiloh smiled and tilted her head. "Do you hear it?"
Lukas looked confused. "Hear what?"
"Most people don't," she said with a grin. "You have to really listen." She broke from his embrace, holding her hand to her ear like she was cradling a secret. "See? You have to listen like this."
Lukas raised an eyebrow. "I don't think copying Hulk Hogan is gonna make me hear it any better."
She playfully swatted his stomach. "Shut the fuck up and listen," she said, still smiling.
Lukas sighed but mimicked her, cupping his hand over his ear, focusing. At first, there was nothing. Just silence. But then, slowly, he heard it-the wind. It wasn't just the usual gusts; it sounded like a whistle, more controlled, more... intentional.
"Okay," he said, "what exactly am I listening to?"
"The wind, silly," she replied, her voice soft with wonder. "The wind is a spirit. It tells the tale of everything that's ever touched it. Everyone who's ever lived, the wind has sung about them. We've all added our notes to its song. It's the last great spirit that roams the Earth."
Lukas chuckled. "That's probably the most creative thing I've ever heard about the wind. Normally, it just blows my hat off."
Shiloh laughed, shaking her head. "Maybe the wind's been trying to tell you something and you've just never listened."
"Alright, how about this," she continued, "put a happy memory to the rhythm of the wind, and then maybe you'll hear it."
The breeze stirred again, gentle but persistent, and Lukas listened more intently. At first, it was the usual sound-loud and bothersome. But then, something shifted. He could hear his sister soft humming, then her melody of her favorite song, growing clearer. And then, his own voice echoed in the wind.
You know, if you actually start singing instead of humming, you'd be pretty good at it.
Maybe if you cut your hair and shave that beard, you'd actually find someone, Lukas sister's voice teased back.
Nah, Lukas had replied in that memory, I like being a handsome bachelor. Family, relationships... too much work.
The wind hummed with the memory, and then it faded, just as the song did.
Lukas blinked, almost dumbfounded. "Was that... real?" he thought.
Shiloh broke through his trance. "The world is only as small as you make it, Lukas. Maybe the wind will remind you of that next time you hear it." Her eyes softened as she added, "I still hear her, every time the wind passes. Knowing that something remembers her... it helps."
She paused, then said quietly, "So do me a favor... listen to me when I'm gone."
Shiloh grabbed Lukas's arm and led him down a weathered dock. The river beside them hadn't frozen over, and a small, battered boat awaited at the water's edge. She gestured toward it. "I don't know where exactly this river will take you. But water always leads to civilization, right? Who knows what you'll find when you get there, but you're a good liar-you'll manage. Most of my boys... Well, they stay clear of rivers. They'll probably devour you if they find you, but you should be safe as long as you stick to the water."
Lukas hesitated, his voice low. "You don't have to do this, you know. You don't have to stay. You don't have to fight. You don't have to lead anyone into battle. You could leave, Shiloh. Not many people can do what you've done-survive this long. I'm not saying it'll be easy, and I'm not saying it erases what you've been through, but... you don't have to march toward death."
For a moment, Shiloh didn't respond. A shadow of sadness passed over her face, followed by a quiet acceptance. She spoke slowly, her words heavy. "After I lost my child, I went mad. I've killed women, children-anyone I could get my hands on. The ones I didn't kill, I sold into slavery. I became a monster, and at some point... sanity found me again. But it was too late. I realized I liked being the monster."
Her eyes flicked to Lukas. "This isn't who I really am. I've only been kind to you because I know your pain. We share that. The reason I danced with you... I just wanted to feel human for one day."
A long pause hung between them, a thick silence that neither was in a hurry to break. Her face softened, a flicker of clarity passing over her. "But I can't go back, Lukas. At some point, you just can't. The screams of the dead, they'll follow me no matter where I run. I've prayed to the spirits, and I've accepted that I'm meant to stay until I find an honorable death. I think I've found that opponent."
She gave him a crooked smile, eyes glinting with dark humor. "Besides, you're a good man, Lukas. I'd just drag you down with me, soil you. You don't deserve that."
They reached the dock, which was surprisingly sturdy, much more so than the crumbling house they'd left behind. Lukas eyed the boat, taking in the supplies-fishing gear, rations, water. Shiloh had thought of everything, it seemed. He climbed into the small rowboat, his movements awkward, like an out-of-practice dancer, but he stuck the landing nonetheless.
The two of them were now at eye level, the same height, since Lukas was lowered in the boat. "Who's this wind spirit?" he asked.
"Niyan," Shiloh answered. She hesitated before adding, "I'm not really sure which tribe believed in the spirit. I only have fragments of books here and there to piece things together. If I told a real Native from America, they'd probably wonder what the hell I was talking about."
Lukas chuckled darkly. "Well, it's kind of like that where I'm from. I'm from Paris. Most of French culture's been erased-the language stuck around, but everything else is gone. We're trying to hang on to what little we've got left. Hell, I'm so out of touch with my culture I don't even know why they built the Eiffel Tower."
"How many spirits do you worship?" Lukas asked, half-curious.
"Sixty or seventy," Shiloh replied.
Lukas whistled. "Wow, I guess it makes being Catholic easier, only one God to remember. I'd never keep track of all that."
Shiloh grinned. "Well, mister, you read a thousand-page book for your beliefs, right? I can manage mine."
Lukas laughed. "I had to read a hell of a lot more than that when I studied to be a priest."
Shiloh's curiosity piqued, and she hid a smile. "You studied to be a priest?"
"Yeah, what's so funny about that? Priests were better fed. Seemed like a good deal at the time."
Shiloh smirked. "Well, you've proven you're not into little boys, at least."
Lukas, both amused and slightly offended, shot back, "Oh, come on, I've heard them all. You'll have to try harder than that."
Shiloh laughed harder, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "How old were you when you started training?"
Lukas thought for a moment. "Sixteen... maybe fifteen."
Shiloh grinned even wider. "Maybe you should've started much younger." Lukas thoughtfully answered, "I think 16 is plenty old enough to be studying... for."
Lukas paused, catching onto her teasing. "Hey, give me a break. Haven't I been through enough today?"
Shiloh nodded. "Fair enough. I suppose I've given you a hard time long enough. So, I guess this is goodbye."
A long silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Shiloh looked away, her eyes distant. Lukas, realizing he might not get another chance, muttered, "Screw it." He grabbed her by the hair and kissed her. It was long, sweet, and everything he hoped it would be. But, like all good things, it eventually came to an end.
Both of them stood there, awkwardly, faces flushed with embarrassment. Lukas fumbled. "Sorry..."
Shiloh, however, looked genuinely happy. "The only thing you should be sorry for is waiting so damn long."
She handed him a paddle and teased, "Now get going before I get hungry and devour you. Not in the way you'd like."
Lukas grabbed the paddle with a smirk. "Yes, dear," he said, like an obedient husband, and began rowing, the boat drifting away into the distance.
As Lukas rowed away from the dock, the snow began to fall more heavily, each flake drifting down in a quiet, swirling dance. The river's current carried him slowly, the soft sound of water lapping against the boat blending with the whisper of the wind. Shiloh stood at the edge of the dock, her figure gradually fading as the snowfall thickened between them.
Lukas turned back one last time, his voice breaking through the growing distance. "Adieu, Shiloh."
Shiloh, barely visible through the snow, cupped her hands to her mouth and called back in French, her voice soft but clear. "Jusqu'à ce que nous nous retrouvions."
And then, the white veil of snow consumed them both.