Soulbound

Suppressing the Beast

The days after her escape from Vincent passed in a blur, though "days" was no longer the right word. For Isabella, time had become a strange, unmeasurable thing. The sun, once a symbol of warmth and life, was now her greatest enemy, a force that could burn her to ash in seconds. Her world, once bathed in sunlight, was now confined to the shadows of night.

She had left the village as soon as she could. Though she was grateful to the old woman who had taken her in, Isabella knew she couldn't stay. Not only because Vincent would be looking for her, but because she was something different now. Something dangerous. Every moment she spent near people, she could feel the gnawing hunger inside her growing stronger, that new and monstrous thirst she had inherited from him.

The first time she had felt it, she had been horrified.

It had been after she left the village, slipping away in the dead of night when the streets were quiet and the sky was a deep, starless black. She had wandered the countryside for days, trying to come to terms with what had happened to her, trying to reconcile the person she had been with the creature she had become. But no matter how far she went, no matter how hard she tried to push it down, the hunger had followed her.

It was an animalistic, feral need that had crept up on her, slow at first, like an itch she couldn't quite scratch. But as the nights passed, the need grew more intense, until it became impossible to ignore. It wasn't just a hunger for food—it was something deeper, something primal. A hunger for blood.

She had fought it with every ounce of her willpower, terrified of what it meant. Terrified of becoming the thing Vincent had made her. But hunger, true hunger, didn't care about fear or morals or humanity. It gnawed at her relentlessly, making her body tremble with weakness, making her mind grow wild with desperation.

And then came the night when she couldn't fight it anymore.

She had been hiding in the barn of an abandoned farmhouse, curled up in the corner, trying to block out the sound of the animals in the distance, the sound of their blood coursing through their veins. Her body had felt weak, her head spinning with a dizziness she hadn't known before. She thought vampires were supposed to be strong, invincible, but in that moment, she felt fragile, as though she might shatter into a thousand pieces.

It wasn't long before her senses sharpened, and she could smell something—a rabbit, small and innocent, its heartbeat a steady drum in the stillness of the night. Her throat burned, her fangs aching with a hunger she couldn't suppress. Before she even realized what she was doing, she had pounced on it, her new instincts taking over, sinking her teeth into its warm, soft flesh.

The taste of blood was intoxicating.

It had flooded her senses, the warmth of it filling her in ways she hadn't thought possible. For a moment, she had forgotten herself—forgotten the horror of what she was doing. The hunger, the pain, everything had vanished in that moment of feeding, replaced by a sickening euphoria. When she finally pulled away, the rabbit lay limp in her hands, lifeless, its blood staining her lips and hands.

Isabella had stared down at the creature in horror, the realization of what she had just done hitting her like a blow to the chest. She had killed. She had fed. She had become what Vincent had wanted her to be.

The days that followed were a blur of guilt and survival. She learned quickly how to move through the world unnoticed, how to slip in and out of places without drawing attention to herself. She had become a ghost, living on the outskirts of society, watching the world from the shadows. At night, she would hunt small animals—rabbits, birds, whatever she could find to keep the hunger at bay. It wasn't enough to satisfy the craving, but it was enough to keep her from doing something she would truly regret.

Still, the hunger remained, always lurking just beneath the surface, a constant reminder of the monster she had become. She didn't dare go near people, didn't dare risk what might happen if she lost control.

She traveled from town to town, always moving, never staying in one place long enough for anyone to notice her. In the quiet hours of the night, she would sit in empty rooms, staring out the windows at the lives she could never be a part of again. Families laughing over dinner, couples strolling hand in hand under the streetlights, children playing in the parks. It was all so achingly familiar, yet so far out of reach.

There was a deep, crushing loneliness that came with her new existence. Before, when she had been human, she had taken the simplest things for granted—the touch of another person's hand, the warmth of a smile, the sound of her own heartbeat. Now, all of that was gone. She was alone, not just physically, but emotionally, spiritually. She was no longer a part of the world. She was something other.

And the worst part was knowing that this was forever.

Isabella had long since stopped keeping track of time. The days blended into weeks, the weeks into months, and still she wandered, trying to outrun the shadow of Vincent that followed her everywhere. He was out there, she knew, always searching for her, always waiting for the moment when she would slip, when she would be too weak to resist him.

But there was one thing Vincent hadn't anticipated. Isabella wasn't just running from him. She was running toward something—something he would never understand. She was running toward her freedom.

She had heard whispers, stories among the creatures of the night. Tales of an ancient artifact, hidden deep within the vaults of the Vampire Council. A relic so powerful that it could undo what had been done to her. A way to reverse the curse of immortality, to regain her humanity.

It was a dangerous idea, a foolish one, perhaps. The Council was powerful, and their stronghold was impenetrable. But Isabella had nothing left to lose. She couldn't live like this—not forever. If there was even the slightest chance that the stories were true, she had to find it.

And so she continued to live in the shadows, biding her time, waiting for the moment when she could strike. She honed her abilities, learned how to move through the night with the stealth of a predator, how to control her thirst, how to fight. She was no longer the naive young woman Vincent had once manipulated. She had become something else entirely.

But even as she embraced her new strength, her new power, she never forgot what she was truly fighting for.

Her humanity.