The storm had passed. Sunlight streamed through the cabin window, painting the dusty room in soft, golden hues. I woke slowly, the echoes of the night before lingering like a warm, tender dream. Krista lay beside me, her breathing soft and even. Her face, bathed in the morning light, held a peaceful, almost ethereal glow. It wasn't just the sun; it was the soft radiance of happiness, of shared intimacy. I watched her for a moment, a strange, profound contentment settling over me. She looked like an innocent girl with no fears or worries, a mirror to the tranquility I felt within.
Her eyes fluttered open, finding mine. A gentle smile touched her lips, and she reached out, tracing my eyebrows, down my nose, to my lips. My heart, a concept I was still learning to fully grasp, swelled. We held each other's gaze, smiling in the quiet intimacy of the morning, until the real world, and its pressing dangers, intruded.
"Amelia," she whispered, the name a sudden, sharp reminder.
The spell broke. We dressed quickly, a silent urgency propelling us. We ran back to the cabin where Amelia had been, a desperate hope clinging to my thoughts that she had, somehow, found her way back. The door was ajar, a chilling detail. Krista burst it open, rushing inside.
To our immense relief, Amelia was there. She was sitting on the couch, calmly munching on some snacks Krista had brought the other day. Krista knelt beside her, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Where have you been? We've been looking for you. We were so worried."
Amelia looked up, her expression utterly nonchalant. "Sorry. I was chasing a bunny and I got lost."
"A bunny? Why?" Krista asked, confused.
"I was thirsty," Amelia replied, her small voice devoid of any malice, simply stating a fact.
Krista stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening, her gaze falling to the floor. Mine followed. Under the dining table, a small, lifeless bunny lay still. Its neck was contorted, a dark stain on the floorboards. Amelia's "thirst" had been a thirst for blood. My earlier assessment of her complex scent, the subtle hint of vampire traits, solidified into a horrifying truth. She wasn't just a victim; she was a predator, an anomaly unlike any I'd known. I looked at Krista, my eyes conveying the grim confirmation. Her own eyes were filled with a mixture of shock and dawning horror.
The drive back to the city was subdued. I parked my car a few meters away from Krista's front gate. It wouldn't do for us to be seen arriving together on a school day, in clothes we had clearly slept in. We were quiet in the car, each lost in our own thoughts, processing the new, terrifying dimension of Amelia's existence. Things were far more complicated than we had imagined.
"At least now we know Amelia isn't… vegetarian," Krista said, a nervous attempt at a joke that fell flat.
"It's not funny," I replied, my voice serious. "It means there's a possibility of her becoming more dangerous every day."
"But I thought you said she isn't turning into a vampire. What's going on?" she pressed, her confusion evident.
"I don't know," I admitted, a rare confession of uncertainty. "Since we don't know what's going on yet, I need you to promise me something." I turned to her, my gaze unwavering. "Promise me you won't ever go visit Amelia on your own. I don't want you alone with her in case she loses control. Please promise me?" My gentle tone, a stark contrast to my usual directness, seemed to resonate deeply with her.
"I promise." She sealed it with a quick, soft peck on the side of my lips. "I should go now. I just hope my father isn't there."
"No. He's not there. I heard there's a joint meeting today. Some of our elites found out about an underground alliance between the rebels." My words were meant to reassure her, to explain his absence, but they also hinted at the larger, unseen conflicts simmering beneath the surface of our world. "Don't worry about it," I added, seeing a flicker of anxiety in her eyes. "They'll be discussing what to do to prevent future rebels from springing up. They'll be looking for a peaceful solution for everyone." I knew how unlikely "peaceful" was in the long run, but it was what she needed to hear.