Strangers

{Special Halloween Chapter}

Here is a halloween special feature for you guys! When I saw Eurovision 2018 with my friends, we instantly had this idea, and this chapter was how I was originally planning to write my fanfic. So yeah, this ~special~ edition is completely unrelated to the story. New update by Thursday!

Also, I wanted to dedicate rosesintheattic for the writing inspiration! their writing style is so chilling and alluring, so I took some inspiration from them to set the mood. Hope you like it!

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A cold wind blew through the churchyard. It felt like moss, and spiderwebs, and bells made of silver.

It flirted with Kostyantyn's hair, twirling it in gentle waves over his soft, pale cheeks, cold from autumn nights, before moving over to the leaves by his feet, rustling them up in the air, and dancing over the tombstones before traveling to new and foreign places.

Dark eyebrows knitted together, cerulean eyes focusing on the wilting bordeaux rose in his hands.

Kostyantyn's hands were always cold. They looked and felt as if they were cut out of marble, gentle and delicate, like art of forgotten times.

Pale eyelids with a web of veins, closed tight, as a tear traveled over his long lashes, before forming to a single drop, falling down on the leaves beneath him. He sat down on one knee, rose in one hand, ring in the other.

Will you take this rose, Suzanna? Will you marry me?

The person before him was dead silent. Literally. Suzanna had died in 1778, and before him was a crumpling gravestone, her name barely visible. In his head he saw her once more; her gentle blue eyes, crinkled from a wide smile, her gentle blush, her soft blonde locks, the pink silk gown she wore the first time they met.

He captured her in his head; alive, beautiful, young. Pushed out the other memories that were trying to poison the good ones. Of her limp hand, tired eyes, pale lips that he never had gotten a chance to kiss.

It had been 300 years, and Kostya had still not loved anyone else.

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Kristian liked long walks in churchyards. The chilliness comforted him, the mist was like a friend to him, and the loneliness there calmed him. Here, he was alone, with the stars and moon and souls of those who had lived before, in a past long gone.

His parents didn't like him walking around with the tombstones. It made him look strange, they said. Satanic. But what else could he do? He was alone anyways, so why not spend it with people who wouldn't pick on him? The souls that roamed around never called him names, never called him teacher's pet or spoiled or tease him for being son of the priest. Besides, he liked the feeling of being an outcast here. Everyone at churchyards are outcasts, so at least he felt some odd form of belonging.

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Kostyantyn had been transformed just before he met her. He was so young, so naïve. Thought he could love someone without hurting them in the process. How stupid was he?

He had bitten her. Sucked the life out of her. Felt her body turn cold and limp in his arms. Felt her pulse go slower and slower...He would never forgive himself for that, giving into the crimson lust. He had stopped going to church after that. He didn't belong there. He was a monster, an outcast, a devil.

A vampire.

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Someone stood by the older stones. Kristian thought nobody ever went there. Except for him, of course. He loved that place, the barely visible dates from ancient times. He loved bringing his camera there, zooming in on the moss and granite.