She stood there, center stage, as guns pointed all around her. She knew what she did was inconceivable, but didn’t care. She did what was right, whether they knew it or not. He was eventually going to turn on them, devour them alive, enslave them in madness; torture them and have them beg for mercy, but he wasn’t going to waver.

As she lowered her bloody weapon, his blood dripping on the floor from its blunt end, she was deafened by a loud bang. Someone panicked and fired their gun. As adrenaline coursed through her body, numbing the pain, she didn’t budge; just looked at the man who shot her. They lowered their weapons, murmuring and shouting.

“I-I...” was all she managed to say as she collapsed to the floor. She was ready, welcoming death as the man rushed to her side.

“I’m... sorry,” he said as he looked down, hiding his tears.

“I-I didn’t mean to...” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to!” he cried.

“Don’t apologize! SHE KILLED HIM!” someone yelled. Some yelled in agreement. Others questioned her motives for killing her beloved.

Her eyes stared into the distance. She could see darkness from the horizon closing-in, moving quickly; ready to envelop her, to prepare her for what the cold afterlife would bring.    

“I’m coming love...” was her final thought as life fled from her eyes.

They all closed-in, some inspecting the body of her husband, while others surrounded her. They didn’t know what to make of her sudden betrayal. It got louder in the camp, some trying to calm everyone down, others shouting.

Two marks an inch apart found on his body, marks too familiar with the group. Marks which made some members of the camp understand her, but raised more questions to the rest. Panic started to creep in within the group. Some grew more violent in the confusion, others cowered and cried.

"Why didn’t she tell us?” some questioned.

“Why didn’t she tell us after she killed him? Why did she keep this from us? Why was he bitten? When did he get bitten? Did this happen somewhere in the camp? Did they sneak out of the perimeter? Did he go out without telling her? Was she bitten?” were a few questions asked at the moment, but none answered.

A few hours later as they started to clear their house, they found a note. A note that answered some of the questions the group had, but left most unanswered.    

To whom it may concern,    

If you are reading this, then I am dead. I don’t blame whoever killed me. I forgive you. You did what you thought was right, just like I did what I knew was right. As you may have discovered, he was eventually going to kill you all. I didn’t tell any of this to any of you because he is my husband, and if anyone was going to kill him, it was going to be me. I didn’t tell any of you because even after I would have killed him, my life would have been over in that moment. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself after that moment.    

Please, don’t resent me for my actions and forgive me for causing fear in our community.    

Live on, friends.    

Yours truly,    


They burned them in their belongings, just outside their walls. They left the bonfire, one by one, until only one remained. As he stared at the flames, watching it change colors from a deep red to a vibrant blue, something else was watching.

Written by Roman Hahn
Content is available under CC BY-SA

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