𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐀 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐀 - 𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐉𝐀𝐇 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍

𝖍𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖑 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖔𝖘, 𝖆 𝖒𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖆

Stars were the first gods. They existed first, and from around them came orbits and planets and god-like creatures.

Vampires, creatures of the night, immortal fleshes with souls too broken to be fixed.

Irena Rusalka a historical figure, the one who had religions based on them, a saint or even a god.

But Irena knew better, she was no god, nor was she a saint. And now Carmen, a woman torn, a human less, cold-blooded murderer had felt drained.

Her mind had set a blaze. Motions and motions of stories, delusions or reality, she still had to make for it.

But she had felt it, too long. It has been too damn long for her to live, to breathe or not, to exist as a flesh.

Maybe then, when she immersed herself in human society, she'd feel less self-loathing, less angry and yet she had never felt so lonely and out of ordinary.

Carmen Ares deeply loved her companion Jenna and was very thankful to have met Stefan as well, but it did not do the trick.

She felt as if something was missing, a part of her heart, or half of her soul as the poets say.

But that was the thing. Carmen Ares, or Irena Rusalka had never ever felt loved, desired, needed.

Someone alone in this world for nearly a millennium, and yet they have never felt the spark of love, adoration, and true happiness. Of course it would drive one mad. Incredibly bonkers.

Because who could survive a life so long without love?