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KATHARINA
"You're an abomination!"
"You should never have been born into this world!"
"Let's burn her at the stake!"
"A curse like her would only bring calamity upon us!"
Different voices-distorted and warped-filled my mind as I slept, their tones dripping with disgust, contempt, fear, and morbid jealousy.
I saw myself as a child standing before the crowd in confusion, unable to understand the hatred in their eyes, or why they wanted me dead when I'd done nothing wrong.
-
Present.
In my deathly still, dark bedroom, my golden eyes snapped open. They were clear, alert and untouched by sleep.
I sat up slowly, a momentary daze clouding my gaze before clearing up.
Perhaps it was because today marked my nine hundred and ninety-ninth birthday-coupled with the fact that I hadn't fed in ages, leaving my physical vessel frail-that I dreamed of such an ancient, dusty memory.
Speaking of which... how old had I been back then?
Less than ten.
Abandoned. Parentless.
With no one to protect or explain the uniqueness I carried.
That fateful day, I had inadvertently activated my witch powers to save a werewolf pup from a rogue's attack.
I never imagined that one moment of kindness would turn everyone against me-even the parents of the very child I'd saved.
They all looked at me with fear and disgust, whispering that I was a monster.
An abomination.
As a child, I couldn't understand why I was treated that way despite showing them nothing but kindness.
But now, I did.
It was because I was a hybrid. The cursed fruit of a vampire and a witch.
It might have been tolerable if I had inherited only one lineage's power, like most mixed-bloods.
But I was different. I inherited both.
And that made me a threat.
A freak. An oddity.
Most wanted me dead. Some wanted to save me, but only to use me.
To experiment on me.
To drain my blood and strengthen their own powers.
None of them succeeded.
Not out of mercy. Not because they suddenly grew a conscience.
But because they couldn't defeat me.
Even as a child, with my hybrid powers raw and unrefined, I had already become the strongest supernatural alive.
Blinking and snapping back from the unpleasant memory, I summoned a hand mirror from the vanity with a flick of magic.
My reflection stared back at me.
A young, exquisitely beautiful woman with high, sculpted cheekbones, full crimson lips, and long, raven-black hair cascading down her back.
Her fair skin gleamed faintly even in the dim light.
But it was her eyes, a mesmerizing shade of light gold, that stood out the most.
The sight of such beauty would have brightened anyone's day.
Yet all I felt was boredom.
Boredom that seeped deep into my bones.
After all, I'd been looking at this same face-frozen in time-for almost a millennium now.
Long enough for dynasties to rise and fall ten times over.
And I was not the least bit happy about it.
Many longed for immortality and would do anything to attain it.
Yet for me, who possessed it, immortality was nothing but a curse.
Each passing year left me feeling hollower than the last.
So by my five-hundredth year, I had begun searching for a way to end it.
Yet even after all these centuries...
My gaze hardened as I tightened my grip on the mirror until it shattered to dust in my palm.
I still hadn't found a way to turn mortal, or die.
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