As Dorothy finished tending to my wounds, she smiled softly and offered me her hand. "Come, Gabriel," she said, her voice low and husky. "I want to show you around the castle. There's so much I want to share with you."
I took her hand, feeling a jolt of electricity as our palms touched. She led me through the winding corridors, pointing out tapestries and portraits, telling me stories of her family's history. But then, she began to speak of something else, her voice filled with a deep longing.
"I've missed you for so long, Gabriel," she said, her eyes gazing into mine with an intensity that made my heart race. "Centuries have passed, but the memory of you has never faded. I've dreamed of this moment, of being reunited with you, for so very long."
I felt a shiver run down my spine as I gazed at her, confusion and wonder warring within me. "What do you mean?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "I don't understand. I've never met you before, Dorothy. I don't know what you're talking about."
She smiled, her lips curving upwards in a gentle, sad smile. "You don't remember, do you?" she said, her voice filled with a deep sorrow. "You don't recall our past, our love, our life together."
I shook my head, feeling a sense of unease growing within me. "No," I said, my voice firm. "I don't know what you're talking about, Dorothy. I don't have any memories of a past life, of meeting you before. I'm just a normal guy, living a normal life."
Dorothy's eyes never left mine, her gaze burning with an intensity that made my heart race. "You may not remember," she said, her voice low and husky. "But I do. And I'll never forget, Gabriel. Never forget the love we shared, the life we lived, the promises we made to each other."
As we continued our tour of the castle, I couldn't help but notice the numerous portraits adorning the walls. I had seen them earlier, but now, with Dorothy by my side, I felt a sense of curiosity wash over me. "Dorothy, tell me about your family," I said, gesturing towards the portraits. "The ones in these paintings, I mean. What happened to them?"
Dorothy's expression turned somber, her eyes clouding over like a stormy sky. "Ah, my family," she began, her voice low and melancholic. "They were a noble and just family, rulers of this castle and the surrounding lands. But centuries ago, a great tragedy befell us."
She paused, her gaze drifting off into the past, as if remembering a long-forgotten tale. "The townspeople, they... they turned against us. They accused us of darkness, of evil deeds, and they attacked the castle, setting it ablaze."
I felt a shiver run down my spine as I listened, my imagination painting vivid pictures of the horror that had unfolded. "What happened to your family?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Dorothy's eyes refocused on mine, a deep sadness lingering in their depths. "They fled, Gabriel. They fled in the dead of night, leaving behind everything they had ever known. They scattered across the land, seeking refuge and safety. But I... I remained behind."
I felt a pang of sympathy for this mysterious and beautiful creature, who had lost so much and yet still stood strong. "Why did you stay?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.
Dorothy's smile was tinged with sadness. "I stayed because this castle, this land, it's a part of me. It's my heritage, my legacy. And I couldn't bear to leave it behind, no matter how dangerous it became."
As I listened to Dorothy's words, I felt a sense of understanding wash over me. "So, the townspeople attacked the castle because they believed your family was responsible for the... the feeding on human blood?" I asked, my voice measured and careful.
Dorothy's eyes dropped, her gaze falling to the floor as if ashamed. "Yes, Gabriel. It's true. One of our own, a cousin of mine, had succumbed to the temptation of human blood. He had always been... different, prone to darker moods and desires. And one fateful night, he gave in to his cravings and fed on a villager."
I felt a shiver run down my spine as I imagined the horror of that moment. "And the family, they banished him from the castle?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Dorothy's nod was barely perceptible. "Yes, we did. We had no choice. His actions were unforgivable, and we couldn't risk him harming anyone else. But it was too late. The damage had been done. The townspeople had already discovered what had happened, and they were determined to take revenge on our entire family."
I could feel the weight of her words, the sorrow and regret that still lingered in her voice. "And so, they attacked the castle, seeking to destroy everything we had built," she continued, her eyes still cast downward. "They set fires, broke down doors, and... and killed many of our people. It was a night of unspeakable horror, Gabriel. One that I will never forget."
As she finished speaking, I felt a deep sense of empathy for this beautiful and tragic creature. I realized that the events of that fateful night had shaped her into the vampire she was today, a being of both light and darkness, struggling to find her place in a world that feared and hated her kind.
As the night wore on, I found myself wanting to ask more questions, to delve deeper into the mysteries of Dorothy's past and the secrets of the castle. But before I could pose my next query, she raised a hand, her eyes sparkling with a gentle but firm light.
"No more questions for tonight, Gabriel," she said, her voice soft but commanding. "You need rest, and I need... time to think."
I felt a pang of disappointment, but I knew better than to press the issue. Besides, I had already overstayed my welcome, and the darkness outside seemed to be growing thicker by the minute.
"I understand," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't stay here. I have a foster home, a place I need to get back to."
Dorothy's expression changed, her eyes clouding over with a hint of sadness. "You don't want to stay here with me?" she asked, her voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.
I felt a surge of guilt, but I knew I had to be firm. "I can't, Dorothy. I have a life outside these walls, a life I need to get back to."
She nodded, her eyes never leaving mine. "I understand," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't let you walk back through those woods alone. It's not safe."
Before I could protest, she swept me up in her arms, her supernatural strength lifting me with ease. I felt a rush of wind as she took off, her speed blurring the darkness around us. The woods were a mere shadow, a fleeting glimpse of trees and darkness as we hurtled through the night.
In what felt like mere minutes, we arrived at the church, its familiar spire looming above us like a beacon of safety. Dorothy set me down, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight.
"Thank you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
She nodded, her eyes never leaving mine. "Be safe, Gabriel," she said, her voice low and husky. "And remember, I'll always be here, watching over you."
And with that, she vanished into the night, leaving me to wonder if it had all been just a dream.