Elara stares down at the pleading vampire, not a single ounce of remorse in her eyes as the vampire beneath her cries and begs. Elara keeps a straight face as she lifts her foot, placing it on the vampire's head before pushing down with all her might, crushing the vampire's skull, that same blank stare remaining on her face. She lets out an annoyed sigh at the vampire blood on her suit. "Dammit... I'll just wash it off myself." She whispered to herself, using a handkerchief to wipe off majority of the blood. As she does so, she hears rustling in a nearby bush. Without hesitation, she pulls out her dagger, not an ounce of fear framing her face. She slowly approaches the bush, her movements calculated and quiet. As she reaches the bush, she immediately throws her dagger. Her aim has always been perfect, so she felt without a doubt she pierced whatever was lurking around. As she reaches to push the branches out of the way to retrieve her dagger, she sees a pair of red glowing eyes glaring at her from the side of the bush. Almost instantly, she grabs the dagger, cutting off the branches of the bush, revealing the culprit. She holds her dagger in between the person's eyes. As Elara looks closer, she notices the fangs. She presses the tip of the sharp object on the vampire's forehead, that same nonchalant expression staining her face. "You know I can kill you... right?" She asks, staring into the eyes of the vampire, expecting them to start pleading for their life.

Her eyes widen slightly as the vampire speaks. This was not what she expected. There's no hesitation in her voice as she responds. "And yet... you decided to come after me." She presses the tip of her dagger against the vampire's forehead harder, making them flinch slightly. Her breath hitches in her throat for a moment before she continues speaking. There's an oddly seductive quality to her tone despite the coldness that underlies it. "What makes you so special?"

Her lips curl into a cold smile as the vampire speaks. "You know," she whispers, tilting her head to the side slightly, "that's exactly what all of them said." She presses down harder with the dagger until it draws blood, causing the vampire to hiss in pain. Her pale skin and fangs shining in the moonlight as she continues to hold him at bay. "But I always knew better. You should have stayed hidden... now look where you are." Elara's voice is deceptively calm, each word dripping with venom.

Her free hand reaches up, trailing across her cheek before resting on the vampire's neck. He shudders under her touch as she squeezes, drawing more blood. "You must be important... so many of your kind trying to take me down." She pauses for a moment, considering her next words

Her lips curl into a cruel smile as the vampire begs for mercy. "Tsk tsk," she says mockingly, shaking her head. "You're not supposed to beg... that's what makes you weak." She withdraws her hand from his neck, grabbing a fistful of his hair instead. The pain registers on the vampire's face as she roughly pulls his head back, exposing his throat.

"You know what I do to those who beg?" Elara asks, her voice low and dangerous. "I let them suffer... and then I end it quickly." Her other hand moves toward one of the numerous hidden pockets in her suit, fumbling for something before withdrawing it: a thin chain with several small weighted objects dangling from it. A silver crucifix at its end glimmers menacingly in the moonlight.

"Or...

Well, I could just get all cruel and sadistic... but where's the fun in that? You know how much I hate repeating myself." Her voice drips with venom as she places a small metal collar around the vampire's neck, clicking it shut with a satisfying snap. "Now you belong to me, little vampire. And if you ever try to run away..." She trails off, her gaze falling to his still beating chest. "...I'll just have your head mounted on my wall."

She takes one last look at the newly collared vampire before casually tossing him aside, watching as he skids a few feet across the ground. The silver crucifix clinks against stone, drawing Elara's attention once more to her new prize. With an amused smile playing on her lips, she bends down and retrieves it, examining the detail with cool interest before

Elara pauses mid-examination, tilting her head as something small and metallic clatters to the ground near her feet. She crouches down once more, her sharp gray eyes studying the object closely. It takes her a moment to realize what it is: a small, worn locket on a delicate chain. Intrigued now, she reaches out to snag it between two fingers before holding it up close enough to examine properly. The design is somewhat old-fashioned and ornate, reminding her of something one might find hidden away in an attic or buried deep within the pages of a long-lost journal.

Frowning slightly, she tries to pry open the locket with her fingers, but it's securely shut. With a sigh, she fishes around in another pocket until she produces a slim, silver key on an equally delicate chain. This one matches perfectly with the

Her head whips around at the sound of the vampire's voice as she realizes he's still there, watching her with a mixture of fear and cautiousness. She tilts her head to one side, studying him for a moment before responding in an almost conversational tone. "And why should I give this back to you?" Elara asks, raising an eyebrow as she dangles the key tauntingly in front of his eyes. "You've given me no reason to trust you."

Her expression softens slightly as the vampire reveals that the locket holds such significance to him. She's not entirely sure whether she believes his claim or if he's simply trying to manipulate her emotions, but either way, it piques her curiosity. "Very well," Elara finally says with a shrug, tossing the key over to him before he can respond. The vampire catches it deftly, quickly opening the locket and extracting a tiny, faded photo from within.

She watches as his expression grows soft and almost wistful as he gazes at the photo for several long moments. For once, there's no trace of defiance or arrogance in his eyes; instead, she sees only sadness and regret. It's a side of him that Elara hadn't expected to see, and it unsettles her more than she cares to admit. Finally,

Elara's heart gives an unexpected thud in her chest as she listens to the vampire apologize to his long-dead parents. Something about the pain and regret in his voice tugs at a cord deep within her, something she thought had been buried long ago. Before she can stop herself, she finds herself saying, "You never were a monster." Her voice is soft, almost gentle, but it still holds the same icy undertone that has become so characteristic of her.

The vampire looks up at her, surprise and gratitude warring on his features. Without thinking further, Elara reaches out to brush a lock of hair from his face, her hand moving slowly and hesitantly as if she's afraid he might flinch away from her touch. "You don't have to be," she whispers. "Not anymore." Her eyes flicker down to the key in his hand before looking

"Oh, but I do," she insists, her voice firm even as she tries to keep the hint of uncertainty out of it. "You could live a normal life again... if you wanted." Elara pauses, searching his expression for any sign that he believes her. When none is forthcoming, she continues, "I'm not your enemy, Wes. I never was."

Her fingers twitch, longing to touch him again despite the danger it might pose. Part of her wants nothing more than to reach out and pull him close, to feel his warmth against hers for just a moment... but she knows that would be foolish. For all she knows, this could be some sort of elaborate trap, designed to lure her into lowering her guard.

She forces herself to remain still, her expression carefully neutral as she waits for his response.

Her body stiffens slightly as he throws his arms around her in a desperate hug. Despite this initial reaction, she doesn't push him away; instead, she rests a hand gently on his back, offering him whatever comfort she can muster. She knows that it might not be much, but it seems to be enough for now. As he cries into her shoulder, Elara closes her eyes and tries to find some sense of peace in the midst of this chaos.

Part of her wants to believe what she's saying is true: that Wes doesn't have to be a monster, that he can choose his own path from here on out. But another part of her knows better. She has seen too many vampires turn their backs on humanity only to find themselves driven further down the path of destruction by an unyielding desire for blood and power. Even if she did manage to help him escape this life

Elara takes a deep breath before slowly exhaling, her fingers moving gently through his hair as she does so. She tries to ignore the weight of his body against hers and focus on the feeling of him actually seeking comfort rather than trying to harm or manipulate her in some way. "It's alright," she whispers. "You don't have to apologize." There's a raw honesty in her voice that makes it hard for even her to dismiss the emotion behind his words, and she wonders if maybe... just maybe... there really is hope for him after all.

She continues to hold him close, unsure of what else to do or say, but knowing deep down that this brief moment of connection means more than she's willing to admit aloud. As he begins to calm down, her heartbeat slowly returns to a steady rhythm beneath his ear, matching the pace of his own as they lie there in silence,

"You're welcome," she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper as she presses her cheek against the top of his head. For a moment, she wonders if it would be better for both of them if she just let him go, if maybe she should end this now before things get any more complicated than they already are. But despite the doubts and concerns filling her mind, there's something about being close to him that feels... right. So instead of pushing him away, she continues to hold on, relishing in the closeness for as long as it lasts.

The moon hangs low in the sky above them, casting a soft glow over their entwined forms. The wind rustles through the trees, carrying with it the scent of earth and leaves as they drift down to carpet the forest floor around them. Time seems to stand still for these brief moments, as if the world outside has forgotten about them

Her stomach twists into knots at the question as she considers her reply. On one hand, taking him with her would certainly complicate things; on the other, it might be the best thing for him. Despite her reservations and better judgment, she finds herself saying, "If you want." There's a note of reluctance in her voice that belies the certainty of her words, but she hopes he doesn't notice.

For now, they remain like this: Elara holding onto him tightly while Wes holds her just as closely. Neither one speaks; there's no need to when everything that needs to be said has already been said in that single moment of vulnerability shared between them. The night presses in around them, darkness cloaking their bodies and spirits, but for now at least, they are safe from its grip.