Otherwordly Desires

He calls me again, but I refuse to answer.

Nikolai's all calm and cool again, dreadfully immune to what just happened to occur between us. Yet his eyes glint too nervously for him to completely have forgotten this, and the way he reflexively lets his all-too-sharp canines prick his bottom lip shows it.

I'd always been warned about the Morbus, the Misère, the Klagen. Whatever name they took up, they were eternally doomed - a world I was never supposed to know about. They led my older sister away from us, away from the watch of God ... and, because of the tiniest mistake I made, they're going to take me as well.