In the dimming sunlight, I looked towards him, already there. after looking at the moon for a moment's pause, he, too, returned my gaze.
He saw the blood dripping off my chin; a stray drop of which falling upon my crisp, white blouse.
"Why do your lips bleed? Thou soft, supple, rose-colored lips - when they bleed, angels cry."
I stared at him in amazement. "Methinks that my lips bleed for you, my love."
He stared me straight in the eyes, and I shivered. "They bleed, as they are bitten. Am I correct? Hast thou no dignity? A noblewoman of your stature cannot bear to stain her tongue with the blood of lust."
I shied away, withdrawing from his cold words. They shook me to the core - apparently he did not know why I was biting them. "Thy lips bleed for you, my love."
He looked amused. "And why is that, pray?"
"Because, at this moment, I find every part of you attractive."
The deafening silence slithered into our bodies, turning into magnetic epiphanies that brought us closer and closer together. Simultaneously exploding in my head was the fact that I had just admitted my second-deepest secret.
"I must leave-" I began, but was cut off.
"No. You must stay... with me." He drew me into his arms in embrace.
As I closed my eyes, tears began to flow, mingling with the blood already on my chin. "I love you."
"Stay with me forever; I cannot bear to be without you for even a moment anymore. Thy thoughts, thy love, and thy body - I surrender them all to you."
This, of course, made me cry even harder. What he didn't know was killing me... was this love.
"The elders told me that I was an accursed girl; ever since I was born, they knew that I must remain a virgin or I shall become a demon. That doesn't mean I can't love you - It just means that it would be too hard in time. I am only 16; I'm trying to live as long as possible as myself." That was my deepest secret. He knew everything now. I continued. "Alas, I am destined never to make love, have children-" I ended abruptly, bursting into tears. He grabbed my left wrist and then lifted my chin with his free hand.
"I will make it my life's mission to rid you of this curse." He paused momentarily, looking straight into my eyes. "I love you... And I always have."
Taken in the moment, I took his face in my hands and kissed him. In our embrace, we fell to the ground, still clutching each other tightly and kissing. I felt my control slipping away more and more with each second, but I didn't care. I didn't care about the curse, I didn't care about the fact that we were practically about to make love on the ground... I didn't care about anything anymore. That is- except for my love. I took a breath and murmured "I don't care, I don't care," over many, many times; getting significantly louder until I was practically shouting, giving power to my words.
"No! Curses don't matter!" Even though I knew that the inevitable was beginning, I couldn't stop. The rush of my biological rebellion pulsed to my brain, spreading to the very exteriors of my body; tingling my heart and mind with the sensation of what was to come.
Demonization.
Consumed by lust and selfishness, I hyperventilated one last time as a human. I was defeated; the demon inside won.
"Run away! Leave while you can!" I yelled in anguish- a last resort to save the one I loved while I could still control myself.
He looked on in... was that triumphance?... as I transformed. He wasn't moving. Was he not afraid? Could he be in shock? He tried to communicate with me, but his tongue spoke words in a language I no longer knew.
I was consumed in darkness. As my vision's peripherals blackened as if charred, vision tinted red; I felt claws splitting my fingers open, yearning to be free. Had he planned on this? My weakness being overwritten, my being completely helpless? Releasing the demon, only to be destroyed himself? Would he vanquish me, then try to reconstruct the last human remains of my already-darkened soul, and then transfer them into a new vessel with the aid of the high priestess? Alas, I had no idea. I did not think.
My body was consumed by the essence of evil.

The Demon's lithe body stared into his eyes. I shook in terror; I was helpless. All that was mine was my soul, and even that was slowly but steadily deteriorating. My eighteen-year-old love. About to be killed. By my own hand.

I suddenly felt a pulling in my stomach, sucking everything out of me- and a delayed reaction pang in my heart... and then an excruciating pain in my very core. He had shot me... but with what? I looked down, using the last of my strength. All I could see was a glowing red ball... Dark - and, at the same time - light; like the redness I saw during my transformation, but different... more pure. I was curious, but I didn't have time to think.

I was dying.

I was overcome by emotion- My love will be saved because the demon was leaving existence. In my dying moment, I felt... Content.

Then I realized I was being pulled down with it for a moment. At a loss for a vessel, my spirit then separated from the dark mass. The moment my connection to the demon vanished, so did all my perception of time, space, and direction.

With the last of my sanity, I plunged into my love, merging my spirit with his presence. He fell backwards, fainting from the overload of spiritual energy within him. Then something unexpected occurred.

The demon's carcass fell atop him, smuggling his last breath simply by touch.

At least we were dying in the same body.

I looked at his essence; a blood-red like myself, but not completely. It was lighter.

But I had the colors of a tainted girl with evil in her blood. A Demoness. Even if it had left me sooner, this change in color would have been permanent anyway.

I have many regrets. His death was my fault in many - no, all ways. I accepted, I lost my self-control, and - in full knowledge of the consequences - conceived in an act that would leave me darkened.

Panting, I woke up. I'd had that same, random, relatively-plotless dream I've been having on and off for the past fourteen years of my life; some times more than others.

Of course after the same dream reoccurring this long, I had the entire dream down to a script. However, with no reference to any names or a specific time, I could not verify if the whole endeavor had the chance of actually occurring sometime in history.

Realizing it was Monday, I directed my anxious gaze towards my clock.

"Seven. Crap." With this realization, I got up. My mom must have slept in again; the bus came in twenty minutes.

I haphazardly dragged a pair of frayed, light-wash blue jeans from the bottom of my closet floor. They weren't the most attractive pants you'd see, but they were very comfortable, and it was a Monday; "what the hell," I figured. I then donned a light violet cami, and layered on top of that a pink T-shirt with the stains of many Summers that, I was told, Looked great with my waist-length, pin-straight copper hair. I picked up my favorite hoodie, complete with those ear buds that replaced the aglets at the tips of the drawstrings and a stark checkerboard pattern. Lastly, I selected a pair of lime green Converse. My socks didn't match, but it didn't matter. I was too tired to care. Before I forgot, I slipped a black hair elastic (my sister calls them pony tails) around my wrist. I walked out of my room and into the hall where I knocked on my little sister's door.

"Rise and shine, Annie," I called. "Mom's slept in again." No answer. I shrugged it off and walked down the stairs of our creaky old farmhouse to our rather large kitchen. I was shocked to find my sister already downstairs, dressed and brushed and just finishing her breakfast of eggs and toast.

"I should have known that you, of all people, Mary, would be this late getting up."

I stared at her in disbelief. "Annie? How did you wake up early enough to do all this?" I simultaneously walked over to the pantry and grabbed the first cereal I could find. Corn flakes. Great.

"Well, seeing as it is your fifteenth birthday, I thought I would do something nice for you." I guiltily put the cereal back before she could notice. Oh yeah, my birthday. Amazingly, I had somehow managed to forget.

"All this is for me?" I asked.

"Well, duh! Mom must have left early for work this morning, so seeing as I was going to have to make breakfast for myself; I thought I might as well make some for you, too." She took the orange juice out of the fridge and poured us each a glass.

"But Annie, you're only eight. Did mom give you permission to use the stove?"

Her cropped maroon hair fell gently over her deep indigo eyes. "Maybe...?"

"Annabelle Taylor Evansfield, are you saying you broke the rules?" I stared incredulously at her with my mouth in a wide O.

"You're not going to tell, are you?"

I laughed. "I've taught you well. And plus, how could I? I'm eating this illegal meal too, you know." She laughed at that, too. But then I realized something. "Wait a minute; didn't mom say she had off this week?"

Annie stared back at me, pausing with my meal still in her hands, awaiting to be served. "The opposite of going early," she responded.

As much as my instinctual sarcasm wished to say something along the lines of, "hello, captain obvious," I didn't think that would help the situation much. So I decided to be a decent person and reply, "I'll call her cell." I took out my junky old monster-of-a-cell phone that I had painted black years ago with assorted sharpies and nail polishes before realizing that we were at home, and I could just use the home phone. I slipped it back into my roomy pocket and walked over to the counter where it was kept. I picked it up and fluently dialed her number.

I heard her "vintage" ringtone sound upstairs.

"Mom never leaves without her phone!" Annie cried. "What if something bad happened to her?" Tears of worry began to form at the corners of her eyes. At this point, I was beginning to feel worried as well.

"Wait a sec," I said, more to myself than her. I looked at the list of emergency phone numbers and traced my right index finger along the number for her work, while the other hand picked out the numbers on our phone. I pressed the "talk" button, and was almost instantly greeted by an overly-peppy secretary who probably had glasses and curly blonde hair. I find it funny how you can sometimes guess these things from a simple "hello, how may I help you?"

"Hi, I'm wondering if Mrs. Evansfield ever showed up for work today. Do you know if she did or not?"

I heard some papers ruffling on the other end. "No, I'm afraid not. Didn't she say she was taking off this week for a birthday?"

I instantly hung up the phone. Manners were the last things on my list right now; along with school, the bus for which was already pulling away from our curb.

"Search," I bursted. We instantly split off in separate directions, Annie taking the rest of the downstairs and I taking the upstairs.

I sprinted to her bedroom, scoured the bathroom, and even looked in her closet. Nothing.

Finally I spotted her favorite ebony jacket in the hamper. She never puts that jacket in the hamper; it's dry-clean only.

I snapped it out of there and began searching the pockets. A gum wrapper, three pennies and a nickel, and a tightly folded piece of cream-colored stationary. I quickly unfolded its edges and stared blankly at the words before taking them in.

Dear Mary and Annabelle,
I love you. I need to tell you both a secret that you must swear to protect.

I stopped reading momentarily to wipe the fearful tears out of my eyes. I walked downstairs.

"Annabelle..." I tried to call her, but my voice was hoarse from crying. Apparently, she still heard me.

"Mary? Did you find mom?" She called back.

"Sort of..." She ran to where I had been unable to continue walking and had stopped at, utterly petrified. She helped me sit down on the lush carpet and I began reading the note aloud.

I have had a recent development that required me to leave; the same development you will someday share. You see, girls, we are very special people. Those dreams you have been having - Mary for your fifteen years and Annabelle for your lesser eight - about the demon girl? Well, that is your great-something grandmother on your father's side. She existed in the medieval time period, and was the first carrier of the Demon Virus. Her name was Crimson.

...By the way, Mary, I give you permission to tell your sister what "virginity" is.

Your father was the carrier in our family. He didn't divorce me nine years ago. He left us because he feared his transformation would occur very soon, and didn't want us to be in danger. So, he packed up his bags and left us forever. Annabelle, that was the day after I conceived you.

"Mary... I never even saw him..." Annie began to cry, but put on a poker face and stopped soon after.
You girls are part of a race of human/demon hybrids, bred throughout the years to be able to make love at least twice. Your father was lucky, and was able to proceed much longer than twice. I'll leave it at that. Because of his success, you girls are guaranteed at least three times.

At this point, Annie looked disgusted and confused, but still made no sound. I continued reading.

If, however, either of you exceed this maximum, I can no longer guarantee your safety. You will become demonesses, as I probably would have by the time you read this.

I was not born with the disease, but as soon as I conceived Mary, my time began to run out. Finally I, too, met my time. I'm so sorry.

Your father and I are together now in the realm of death. I love you both so much.
Love always,

~Mom

By the time I looked over at Annie, she had tears streaming down from her sparkling eyes. "It'll be okay, Annie," I sputtered. I had to bite my lip as hard as I could to keep from crying, and was surprised to find that I drew blood.

Just like the demon girl... Crimson. My ancient great-great-however-many-years grandmother.

I could see the similarities now. How could I have had this dream my whole life and never notice the hereditary likenesses both there and in the present?

I looked down at Annie, sheltering her in embrace. She was so young. How could God or whoever was controlling the universe let this happen to an innocent eight-year-old girl, and her almost equally innocent, fifteen-year-old sister?

Then I realized. God didn't support us.

We were tainted children.

The woman gazed out the stone window and looked towards the blood-red moon. Within her mind, she debated whether giving her children the knowledge of the curse was worth having to leave.

"It must be," she thought aloud. "The fact that they have warning justifies the fact that we're alive..." She looked at her husband. "Are we making the right decision?"

"Melissa, my love, I'm absolutely positive that our dear children will learn to accept that we're not there for them." He innocently smiled, and it sent shivers down her spine. His deep, black velvet voice definitely did not match his young-looking face. "Mary and Annabelle will be fine. It's all part of the plan."