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|Series:||Of The Night|
|Previous chapter:||Drown In It|
|Next chapter:||Fate's Next Move|
It had been about six months since the death of Lotta Greaves and two months since I graduated high school. Since learning my parentage I knew there was no use in fighting Elvira anymore. After all I tried that once and look at how well that worked out. I’d grown less and less close to Michael, Matilda and even Brigit. The only time I ever saw Brigit was once a month on the full moon when Elvira would call the other vampires together in peace. Brigit had even grown apart from the others when her mother had mysteriously, disappeared. Suddenly my worst nightmare had come true. I was joining the dark. The vampires. Over the past week or so, Elvira had been very secretive. Making hush phone calls after dusk, trying to keep odd papers out of my sight. Elvira was cold and cunning but even she couldn’t hide something from me. Around eight o’ clock one evening, I came home from hanging out with Matilda for the first time in two months. When I walked into the living area, Elvira was talking with two other adult vampires and a younger male sitting just to the side. I wasn’t sure what they were talking about but I specially heard “Nisha” in their conversation.
“Nisha! Wonderful to see you!” Elvira greeted loudly and a little too perky. “Come, meet the Franks!”
I obediently sat down in the closest chair to Elvira.
“Nisha this is Mr. and Mrs. Frank and their son Sinjon. Mr. and Mrs. Frank, Sinjon meet Nisha Slayer.” Elvira introduced. I shook each one of the vampire family’s hands in turn.
“Nisha would you be a dear and show Sinjon up to your room?” Elvira suggested. “She has some lovely paintings up there!”
I nodded solemnly and guided Sinjon back up to my room. When I flicked the light switch on I immediately heard Sinjon gasped behind me.
“These are…marvelous!” He said in a polite little accent that I’d never really heard before.
“Thanks.” I muttered.
Sinjon began carefully inspecting each painting after courteously asking for permission first. One that particularly caught his eye was a rather dark one that directly hung over my bed. The first painting I’d created after the incident with Lotta.
“I don’t believe I understand this one.” He commented as I walked over next to him. “Could you explain?”
In the very top center of the painting was a little white luminous butterfly fluttering across the dark canvas. Hiding in the surrounding darkness were sinister, malevolent looking butterflies.
“You see that little butterfly at the top, the other butterflies think it’s weak and worthless so they try to get rid of it. But the little butterfly glows and shines light, a light the other butterflies are afraid of. They can’t touch it because dark butterflies are afraid of what it reveals about what they truly are!” I suddenly stopped when I realized how emotional my voice was getting and I was digging my nails into my wrist.
“I’m sorry.” He sympathized.
“It’s fine.” I replied.
Unexpectedly, Sinjon gathers my hands and holds them in his. I feel him place something small in mine but I couldn't see what it was.
“Good luck Nisha Slayer.” Is all is says as he walks out of my room and leave the little trinket in my hands. Once I know he’s gone I dare myself to look at what he left and all I see is a little gold ring with a blood red ruby in the center.