He suddenly tugged the knife across my skin. I can’t feel any of the pain I had imagined, though the warmth of spilling blood is unmistakable; I’ve felt it over my hands more than enough. I can’t breathe and it’s only when I try to that the pain begins.
I fall to my knees. This is my end. I can see a deep red stain growing on the rug, and I feel as though I’m floating above myself, watching my body die. Is this what the afterlife is like? I feel... liberated, almost. This is the end and I do not fear it. Not anymore. I—
Beth dropped the book back to the table, her quivering hands unable to hold it and her vision too unstable through her falling tears to read the words. Besides, she didn’t want to read anymore. Underneath her pain and ache, she was confused; she’d just read Robert’s death, and yet his book continued writing.
For now though, she simply set her head in her hands and sobbed.
After many minutes, the door opened and Lucius entered, shutting the door behind him and rushing over.
“Beth, what’s the matter?” he asked, kneeling beside her. When she didn't answer, he placed his hand on her arm and repeated the question.
Beth opened her mouth to speak, but her voice was cut off inside her throat, which was too thick with tears to utter even a word.
Lucius looked to the table. Slowly he picked up Robert’s book.
“I see you found the biographies,” he murmured.
He let her cry until she had no more tears to shed. Even once she had finished, she just sat in silence, waiting for when she knew her voice would not fail or falter.
“I just read of Robert’s death,” she whispered. “But the book is still writing.”
“What? That’s impossible, Beth,” he said, his voice rich with incredulity.
“Read it yourself,” she snapped.
He looked at her for a few moments before turning his eyes to the book in his hands and opening it. He read the passage that she had, though read on, his eyes widening in surprise and shock.
“What is it?” Beth asked eventually.
“Destiny’s been misbehaving indeed,” he mumbled.
“I don’t understand.”
“Once upon a time, Destiny would choose one individual from the six main races, and humans from time to time, and he would give them his blood, usually without the individual knowing. But that stopped a very, very long time ago. Or so I thought. The Nairabs grew far too strong to be controlled. They were hunted to the ends of the world and buried deep within the ground so they couldn’t ever escape. An extremely powerful vampire, whose very essence is weaved together with a demon sprite, mixed with Destiny’s blood. Unstoppable,” Lucius whispered.