Maybe that was what made her humane.

She thinks she is weird. She thinks she is different. She thinks maybe she was not who she really was suppose to be.

Many a times, the little things she did, she assumed would have been scorned at by her own kind. Maybe even be despised for it. That is, if her kind still existed.

At three thousand years old, Lunar was possibly the only and hopefully the last vampire alive. Her origins had been far complicated, her creator Kien, defeated by her own hands after years of chasing and hiding, was buried in her along with the other millions of memories she kept. The war was long over, and there she remained passing through the timeless nightmare. She would have maybe decided to end her long life, but the blood of Kien was far too precious and dangerous to live unguarded, especially in the new age of advancing technology. Her present existence was to servant his immortal elixir than flow through her veins, forever protecting it from the mankind.

However, she was not a protector. Lunar didn’t like the term, neither does she likes the burden from it, especially in the current weeks, when a strange tingle had set an alarm through her overly- sensitive skin. It was a craving for more than blood or lust, but a seeking for a missing puzzle.

Labels: fanfic, Lunar, OC, vampire