My Sister Aches

My sister aches to be whole. She believes she will not be whole until she finds a life partner. Mind you if she was able to keep one alive for longer the ideal of a ‘life partner’ may be met. To date she has had many life partners, the problem being by ‘life’ she thinks till the end of ‘their life’ is perfectly acceptable.

My sister aches for the total embrace of a man, the total embrace of a man that will be hers’ heart, mind and soul. My sister is adept at the soul part for she has over two centuries of experience luring and capturing souls. Her skills in hypnotic suggestion are formidable to the strongest willed of creatures, so the mind is not so hard to accomplish either. It is the heart that my sister has yet not managed make hers. She has tried, however she found after many unsuccessful attempts that they don’t last long once this vital organ - the heart - has been ripped from their chest cavity. My sister mourns for those that she had thought she had found this embracement in and still does not realize that she must learn to embrace herself.

I love my sister and feel pain, anguish and sometimes frustration as I watch her flounder in her search for the perfect romance, the absolute love that she believes is her destiny. I wish to impart my knowledge of the love and comfort that can be found within oneself, of the need to accept faults in others and recognize our own, that no partnership is perfect. I long for the day that she appreciates the love that is given freely to her, by her true family and friends and wish with all my heart she would stop this fruitless search for the unobtainable.

My sister is a young and very beautiful hybrid that is able to lure a man with the tricks of her femininity alone. Her eyes are black with silver gray flecks that are curtained by long, thick eyelashes. Her hair is the color of onyx that drifts in waves across her latte shoulders and falls in crescendos down her slim straight back. Her lips are of rubies, her teeth are of pearls and not a blemish can be found upon her skin. She is beauty in its purist form; unfortunately it is that of evil.

She does not need to use her magical skills and yet there is something lacking in her that fails to believe that she can be loved for whom she is. And so she woos them and beguiles them and takes them as her blood slaves. She entices them with the seduction of immortality and enslaves their minds with her hypnotic intonations and ancient crafts. They become hers in all ways except of the heart, for you cannot make someone love you and this is her mistake.

I see her in the gardens of Avalon, walking alone or with her latest blood slaves on leashes. I see her transform under the moon into the beast that she is, for she is neither vampire nor lycan, she is hybrid.

We share the same mother whose memorial cave I still visit regularly. She was beautiful our mother more beautiful than my sister ever will be, for she had a passion for the living that they may go on living and the understanding of this world that my sister will never have.

Our mother was a Dark Elven Vampire; her love of murky, moist, earthy places led her to be a powerful mage specializing in fungi and worms. My mother although fond of her own company, had several lovers and delighted in variety. And so it was that my sister was born of a Lycan father, making her the first of her type, part elf, part vampire & part lycan…she is a Hybrid; as am I, for she is my twin.

As dark as my sister is; I am light. As evil as my sister is I am good. We are yin and yang…together we will make a whole.

I have made it my mission to see my sister kill no more, to see her stop playing this game of cat and mouse with human men her mice. I am tired and sickened by her games, of watching her pull them to her only to push them away in disdain and violence.

She flicks at them with her claws and bears her fangs, snarling and laughing, she toys with them until the final attack that leaves them writhing in a bloody mess...soon to be still and silent! She treats her blood slaves well, however beware the one that she chooses for her next pet, for they never last very long.

It is ironic, for how my sister would hate to be likened to a cat, feline, a species she has no tolerance for and yet when she plays, she is cruel. I can think of no better way to describe her, which makes me sit and giggle at my own story telling.

I too am a creature of the night as we are known as. This of course is superstitious nonsense, for I am able to walk in sunshine, I am able to feel the rain against my skin, I too get tired and need rest and sustenance, I am not prisoner to the dark hours. Unlike my sister I do not use blood slaves. I do not dominate my food, it comes willingly to my service. I only need to feed of blood every fifteen to twenty days, and my lunar ray intake is needed only twice a month. Of course if I am at battle, I must sup a little more regularly, for it wearies me to fight these days.

My husband is true blood Vampire, we are life partners, the end of one life will be the end of both for we each hold the others soul. He is a strong and powerful King with over three thousand under his rule and I am his Queen. Together we nurture our family, guide them with the wisdom of age and love and support them with lands and armies. Ours is not an easy life, yet neither do we face hardship. Ours is a life we are proud of. We have turned the fear of humans for us into a curiosity through changing the ways of our people; however we still have some ‘bad seeds’ amongst us and these must be eliminated. It saddens me that my sister will not change her ways, for she is one ‘bad seed’ that I would prefer we could allow to grow.