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I saw her there….A little girl, a baby really… so sad, so alone. How very much I wished to go to her, to comfort her and to hold her against my cold dead flesh. Yes….I am capable of compassion. I am even capable of love, although I do not give

it freely. Standing there, I seem but a shadow to the mortals that come and go…yet

this child ….this object of innocence seems to perceive me….seems to know who I

am. She speaks to the darkness where I stand watching her, how very perceptive

she was. Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation…. Yes… the song from

Phantom of the Opera. The songs of that story are very appropriate when

considering the events….She told me of her hopes, dreams, fears, confiding in me as

a child normally would to a parent. When she was hurt, whether a scraped knee or

a scraped heart, it was me, the shadow that heard of it.

Her “parents”, and I use

the word ironically, had no time for her. To them, she was a duty, an encumbrance,

but I discovered I treasured every moment that was shared with me. The nights

come and go. The weeks become months, become years and this girl grows. Pretty

becomes lovely becomes beautiful. The child that trusted the shadow in the corner

as a confidant grows into a young woman, and I realize I love her, and I always

have. Sing once again with me, our strange duet….And so once when her heart was

torn, and she felt she was dying inside, I could not stop myself…I sang to her. The

child that I felt in my heart as my daughter had always known I was real…but this

was a confirmation. I sang…softly to this beautiful child. I sang of darkness and of

love. Of the love of a father for a daughter….but also that of lovers, for I am no

mortal man, and the love of my heart cannot be categorized as others do. She froze

unmoving, listening not only with her ears, but also with her spirit to the songs of

my heart….of my soul. A blackness so profound that others would be repelled, yet

she found a soft warmth there that comforted and entranced her. She found then a

magical realm within my songs. A place where she could remove the mask she had to wear with all others, but most

sadly her “parents”.

She realized what she had always known. I was mother and father to her. I was the parent she had never really known, yet always so

desperately desired. Sing for me, my Angel of Music. On that night, as she sat

listening to the songs coming from the shadow in her corner, I finally emerged. I

have been patient with her, as I knew from the beginning that she was like no

other…She was my beloved daughter, and on this night, I came forth, and took her

in my arms. She showed no fear, but only longing. Not just the love of a young girl

for her father….but the desire of a woman for her lover. Our kisses lit up the room

like the molten silver light of the moon pouring through her window. My cold dead

heart picked up on this heat, and I felt the warmth of life once again. So many

feelings for a long dead soul to experience again…such things so long forgotten. At

the moment when my sharp canine teeth penetrated her throat, it was as if I had

penetrated her sex. There was a sharp intake of breath, and her innocence was

gone. Her blood so sweet and so hot, a magical nectar of the darkest of gods, ran

down my throat, evoking a passion within me much like a prolonged, screaming

orgasm, just much more intense. Her body bucked against me, not in pain or fear,

but in an abandonment of wanton lust. But she was growing cold. I finally felt

compelled to speak to her for the first time in my voice, and I knew fear.

“My daughter…my beloved child. You are so close to death, and I for the first time in

centuries know fear. I fear for the loneliness that I have known for so very long to

return with your passing, yet I also fear to curse you with this eternal existence that

I must endure. To be always alone, even when walking in the most tightly packed

crowd. Is mine an existence that you could bare my love?”. She looked at me then…

her eyes shining, beautiful in her imminent death. “Father” she said. I realized then

that she knew who we must be, and what we would be…”I have always been alone

except when I was with the shadow. I was always alone except when I was with

you. I would rather go to sleep in your arms, never to awaken, than to go on with

my so called life without you in it. If I may live as you are, together with you, then

that isn't a curse to me, but the fulfillment of a dream. A life after death where we make our own paradise rather than some sterile heaven

that is bottle fed to the masses from a priest. Father…let me die now…so that I may

truly live.”With that, she lay back against me, her throat exposed to me once more.

When I bit into her throat again, she moaned as a satisfied lover might, feeling

arousal as I took her life. At the last moment, I whispered to her

“Kiss me childe…kiss your father”. I then bit into my lip hard, and pulled her mouth to my own. My blood flowed into her mouth, and she soon was nursing at my lip as a newborn

nurses at its mothers breast. My life was filling the almost empty vessel that was

her earthly body. She stepped free of her mortal body then, dropping it on the floor

as one would a soiled garment. We walked together into the moonlight, and

waltzed together to the eternal music of the naked stars. Her body was found the

next day. The doctor said that the cause of her death was severe anemia, and

her “parents” reported that she had also suffered from depression. Their life went

on, as it is known that teens sometimes do die. Perhaps it was an eating disorder,

or drugs that stole their daughter from them. The truth be known though, their

daughter wasn’t stolen, but had been given away many years before.







And she waltzed through the eternal darkness with her true father ever after.