The Vampire And The Orphan

October 21st, 1960

Solitude Peaks Colorado

“Time goes by too fast, doesn’t it?” She smirked as she said it; she knew it was cliché.

She said it to tease the man sitting next to her. He knew this, but somehow the words hit him on that day. These were words a vampire typically would never understand. Words he’d normally scoff at her for uttering. He had existed on this earth for over six hundred years. Time had never ‘gone fast’ in any sense of the word for him until today. Today time was slipping by too fast, far too fast. For the first time in centuries, he was... sad.

Nathanial Hart was sitting at the bedside of his last and final friend in this world. Truth be told, she was his only friend. He’d never intended to have one at all. Once he’d been turned, he didn’t see any point in it. She, however, barged right into his life and wouldn’t take no for an answer, and so it was.

At eighty-three, Greta Olin had lived a long life, but it was nothing compared to his. He’d give anything for a few more years with her. He’s too old and far from humanity to cry over her loss, but he will feel it. She will leave a hole for some time.

“Get me a smoke, will ya?” she asked him hoarsely.

“The last thing you need.” He nearly grunted at the request.

“What’s going to happen? I’ll die more?” She challenged.

“Fine.” He sighed as he lit the stick and passed it to her. All his senses, including smell, were heightened. He always hated the smell of those things.

“Where will you go? After here?′ She asked, as she took a long drag in and blew it out. Her once vibrant hazel eyes were so dull. She was fading away from this earth right before him, just like so many of her relatives before.

“Somewhere just like this.” He said with an easy shrug. “Hidden away from the world.”

This house was one of his favorites. He found it six years ago. It was tucked away in the mountains, nicely hidden from views; someone would have to know where it is to know it exists—a small log cabin hand built by someone, not him, but made well. The floors were a nice solid wood, and the log walls gave it a good woodsy feel. The kitchen was small, but it worked. The bathroom was also small and functional. A little loft sat over the kitchen he set up as his bedroom. The living room was modestly set up. The big fireplace was the focal point. It warmed the room up and gave it a nice glow. The soft and plush tan couch faced the fireplace.

The once vibrant and strong but now small and fragile Greta was lying on that couch. A plaid blanket was pulled over her lithe form. Nathanial was sitting in the chair next to her. His emerald eyes looked over her from time to time.

“You shouldn’t be alone after I die, Nathanial.” She said again.

“I am meant to be alone. Greta.” He told her again.

He gave her a sad smile and brushed her gray hair back from her taupe brown forehead; he then pressed a chaste kiss. Despite the roaring fire, her skin was dry and cool to the touch. The years were etched all over her face, but she didn’t care. She always said wrinkles tell a story of a life well lived.

“No one is meant to be alone.” She took another drag and handed the cigarette back to him. He snuffed it out and pushed it far away from him.

“You’re one to talk.” He let out a laugh then, and it eased the sadness.

“I had many lovers.” She said with a proud look in her hazy eyes. “The vampires were always my favorite; why didn’t we ever?” She asked, knowing full well they never could. They were like siblings as the years went on.

“Because I was too busy keeping your foolish self alive,” Nathaniel scolded her playfully. “You were supposed to marry and carry on your bloodline. remember”

She cackled at that. “I showed them. This thing, this duty, it’s a curse. I refused to pass it on.”

“That you did.” This was her proudest accomplishment, ending her bloodline. It wasn’t easy by any means. She had to fight her very nature to keep herself from getting pregnant. Hence her attraction to vampires.

“My promise is fulfilled now,” He commented.

“That it is.” She said with a tinge of sadness in her voice.

She was worried about what would happen when he had no purpose. Not a soul left in this world. Just him.

He wasn’t. He had no reason to worry, he could handle being alone. His bloodlust was well under control. Old feelings of bitterness, regret, anger, and even guilt all faded into nothingness as the years droned on. His emotions were nearly nonexistent. They would be entirely once Greta started to fade from his dark, cold heart. He would then exist until the time came to meet the sun.

“I think you should keep this house.” Greta looked to be half asleep as she spoke in a husky whisper. He knew that she was not half asleep but half here and somewhere else. Her coven was calling her home and allowing her to see things.

“You should return here in fifty years. You’ll be needed then.” Her eyes were becoming murky and unfocused.

“Greta darling, you are the last living soul that will need me. Hell, you never even did need me, did you?” He saw her smile just a bit.

“Well, there may have been one or two scorned lovers I needed you to deal with.” She admitted to that.

“You kept it interesting.” He told her with a short laugh.

“Don’t become a shell of a being, Nathanial, please. You will be needed again.” She begged again.

“My promise ends with you.” He reminded her.

“This promise does but hear me! You will be needed again in fifty years’ time.” She insisted on this; her eyes held a spark suddenly.

“What could it be?” He questioned as he found his curiosity peaked. “Is there a descendent still out there that we missed?”

“No. I am the last one. That I know for certain.” She said thoughtfully. “It’s very unclear. I feel like whatever it is, it’s really important.”

“Why are you always so cryptic?” He asked with a groan.

“I like to see you suffer here and there.” She admitted with a dry laugh.

“That you do. I will miss you, Greta.”

“Of course you will.” Even in her old age, she was still so cocky she never changed.

“Don’t you go tell the other witches, but you are my favorite,” He confessed.

She laughed then, and a tear slipped down her cheek. He carefully wiped it away.

“Whatever will do without me?” She sighed in that raspy voice.

“Don’t worry about me now in these moments.” He dismissed her musings.

“Humor a dying old lady,” bhe begged. “Say you’ll come back.”

’You’re forcing me to make a new promise?” He realized that he sounded a little whiney, but this promise, he was being released from today. It was a long and daunting one. He was beyond ready to have no ties left.

“It’s an easy promise. You only have to keep this house and come back in exactly fifty years. We will guide you from there.” She opened her eyes wider but was unseeing the physical world. He squeezed her hand to let her know he was there.

“Say you will. Say you’ll come back. Please?” She begged in a pained voice.

“Fine, Greta.” He finally relented with a sigh. He knew she’d refuse to die until he promised. That was how stubborn that old witch was. “I will keep this house and return to it in fifty years.”

Her eyes closed, and her face relaxed. “Thank you.”

They sat quietly as she drew ragged breaths. She was in and out and was mumbling things sometimes. Sweat beads had started to form on her forehead.

“It’s okay, Greta. You can let go. I’ll be okay.” He promised her.

“Be well, Nathanial.” A soft smile touched her lips, and then she took her last breath.