Sometime after the Asylum

The Shadow that accompanied her had been surveying the park while she went for a run and a bite. Somehow the taste of runners was something she never tired of, it may have been the thrill of the hunt. Charming them with incoherent babble about the chill in the air or that it was rare to find anyone so dedicated to the sport. The façade made the man that night just as delectable as the others.

Ariana continued running, her thoughts back to the Asylum and how the memories from New York were still there, but the impact was lessened. The dark place could be squelched easier now, surrounded by her Requiem in Sacramento. The additional security almost reminded her of being followed by others, except in an entirely opposite manner. Watching not for the purpose of protection, but torment and anguish. It was not anyone’s fault that she felt like a caged bird again. Only one knew what was in her past. They were not Bainsworth, they had her best interest in mind. So she hoped. Trust was less easy to come by when it was broke the way hers was.

Yet she wondered now what she would say to her former sire, if it were possible. Although it was not any longer, she still thought about it. There was still a slight fear inside that she could assume his traits, as she grew stronger; no longer weakened at his hands. Sometimes she had passing thoughts wondering if he had sired others and did the same to them. She wondered if they survived, she doubted it. Maybe she was always stronger than he made her realize. The strong silence of another made her believe.

If Ariana would have been there the day his Requiem ended, she would have told him he deserved it. The prologue of that chapter was coming to an end. She mentally began to tare out the pages of his memory, only keeping the good ones, few and far between...


So insignificant, sleeping dormant deep inside of me,
Are you hiding away, lost, under the sewers,
Maybe flying high, in the clouds?
Perhaps you're happy without me...
So many seeds have been sown in the field,
And who could sprout up so blessedly,
If I had died I would have never felt sad at all,
You will not hear me say 'I'm sorry'
Where is the light, wonder if it's weeping somewhere?

Room of Angel