Octavia stared at the contents of the bowl before her with a growing sense of trepidation; the coppery scent of the rust colored liquid assaulting her nostrils. It made her hungry. Her stomach growled and then clenched sending pain radiating throughout her midsection. Her body craved the nourishment contained within the dining ware on the table, but her mind screamed at her not to drink, that what she was about to do was wrong.
“You must drink it,” spoke the woman with sapphire blue hair seated across the oaken table. Octavia looked up at her with apprehension in her mulberry eyes.
“I know,” she replied then pausing. “I just feel like I’m breaking some sort of natural law.”
“Drinking blood is perfectly natural for us, but I understand your concern. This is, of course, all new to you.” The other woman reached up and pushed her shoulder length tresses behind her ears as she answered, regarding Octavia with violet eyes several shades darker than her own.
“Why can’t I just eat normal food?” she whined slightly.
“Trust me, you don’t want to do that,” a slightly masculine, but undeniably female voice from behind her stated. Surprised, Octavia jumped, her knees slamming into the edge of the heavy oak table and forcing it up several inches, the blood in the bowl sloshing out onto her light grey satin blouse in the process. She looked at the newcomer and then down at her knees in shock, despite the force of the impact she had felt no pain.
“You’re wondering why that didn’t hurt,” the second woman said, it was more of a statement than a question. Octavia nodded slowly.
“Increased strength and endurance are just a few of the perks our kind enjoys, but if you don’t consume blood you will wither. It is especially critical now in the early stages of your ascension.” She paused.
“Assuming you have just been turned off course,” she finished, turning to the sapphire haired woman still seated at the other end of the table who nodded in reply.
“So are you going to introduce me to our new coffin sleeper Twila?”
“My apologies, Octavia this is my other fledgling…”
“Vinyl Scratch,” Octavia interjected, cutting Twila off.
“You know who I am?” Vinyl questioned, her cerise eyes widening in surprise, not that the others could see them through the dark purple tint of the sunglasses perched on her small nose.
“Um, yes actually,” Octavia replied rubbing the back of her head in nervous embarrassment. “I’m a rather big fan of your work.” Out of all the things she had expected to happen to her, not that any of what had happened to her already during the last twenty for hours had been, meeting one of her musical idols and finding out she was a vampire was definitely not one of them.
“Huh, wait a second I think I recognize you,” Vinyl stated, tapping a pale, slender finger against her chin in thought. “You come to the club I DJ at a lot don’t you?”
Octavia nodded, her gunmetal grey hair bouncing slightly with the movement.
“Small world and by the way, Vinyl is just my stage name, my real name is actually Vincenza, but you can just call me Vi if you want,” said the azure haired woman.
“Anyway like I was saying earlier,” Vincenza continued, picking up her earlier conversation with Octavia. “Eating human food would only make you sick. Our specialized digestive system can’t process it.”
“Oh,” Octavia spoke dejectedly, sitting back down and regarding the bowl once more.
“Believe me; it’s not as disgusting as you think… as soon as you build up your strength you can drink animal blood instead of human. It’s much like drinking liquid meat- the flavor changes with the animal, personally I like lamb’s blood,” Vinyl explained as she took a seat at one of the empty chairs on the left side of the table facing the dining hall’s stained glass windows.
“I’m a vegetarian,” Octavia deadpanned. “Wait this is human blood!?” She exclaimed, a look of revulsion crossing her slightly European features.
“Donated human blood,” Twila explained. “Freely given at a blood bank.”
Vincenza turned, meeting Twila’s violet eyes with her own cerise orbs.
“Eventually you’re going to have to tell me what happened; it’s not like you to bring home strays.”
“For the sake of brevity let’s just say that I went to a concert last night and a situation arose,” Twila began. “I offered Miss Melody here a choice and well the rest is history so to speak. I’m sure Octavia will be more than willing to explain the finer details to you when she is ready.”
“I see,” Vincenza turned; the two elder vampires watching as Octavia finally worked up the courage to raise the bowl to her lips and took her first tentative sips. Her eyebrows rose in surprise and she hungrily gulped down the remaining liquid. Vincenza’s eyes focused on her mouth as she lowered the bowl; the blood had stained the pale flesh of her pouty lips an alluring shade of red. She averted her gaze as Octavia licked the remaining blood from her mouth with a long, slightly pointed tongue.
“You were right, is there anymore?” She asked hopefully, all traces of her previous misgivings seemingly erased.
“You must pace yourself or you will become ill,” Twila answered. Octavia pouted, her shoulders slumped much like a child who had been denied candy. Vincenza chuckled at the childish display. Stretching in her seat, she looked out the stained glass window across the wooden dining hall and into the starry night sky.
“Luna’s moon is supposed to be full tonight…I think I’ll go down to the bay and enjoy it there,” Vincenza spoke suddenly, rising from her seat and heading towards the hallway. Octavia watched as she made her way past her. She paused in the coquina archway and turned to face Twila.
“The next time you introduce me to someone, please don’t call me a fledging, I drank your blood well over fifty years ago.”
“To me you will always be my fledgling,” Twila answered with a small smile and amusement in her voice. Vincenza rolled her eyes in exasperation before shifting her gaze back to Octavia.
“It was nice meeting you Octavia. I’m really sorry about whatever happened to you that lead to you becoming one of us, but being a vampire isn’t all that bad…if you don’t let Twila drive you crazy first anyway,” with that said the azure haired, vampiric DJ exited the dining hall and disappeared. Octavia turned her attention back to the woman who barely twelve hours ago had dragged her back from the brink of death by turning her into a creature of the night. She wrapped her arms around herself and began to shake as the reality of her current situation became apparent.
“I’m not dreaming, am I?” She asked quietly.
“No, this is not a dream.”
“So then I’m really dead?”
“Sadly that is the case,” the elder vampire answered, sympathy laced in her voice as she stood and approached her.
“Oh Goddess!” She grabbed onto Twila, tears streaming down her high cheeks.
“And now I’m an unholy blood sucking monster!” She choked out as she sobbed into stomach of the elder vampire’s raspberry hued evening dress. Twila wrapped her bare arms the color of virgin olives around the shoulders of the sobbing woman in a comforting manner.
“We are not unholy monsters,” she said soothingly. “We are merely an ascended form of humanity. I have never taken a human life, it has always been donated blood that I have fed on and none of the animals I drank from have ever been completely drained.”
“Really?”
“Indeed, I myself am a member of the Celestian Church and Vincenza is a Zen Harmonite.”
“A Harmonite Vampire?” Octavia asked, pulling away from Twila, tears still streaming down her face.
“That is correct; she has a rock garden down by the bay which she is more than likely tending to at the moment and several Banzai trees in her chambers.”
Octavia laughed slightly as she pictured the blue haired DJ in monk’s robes moving sand around with a wooden rake.
“Now dry your tears young one, I have much to teach you, and do not worry, in time you will be able to control your hunger and feed only on animals. Being a vampire is not a bad existence,” Twila said, wiping the tears from Octavia’s face with her thumbs. She smiled up at her, starting to feel a little better about her predicament. ‘At least it’s better than the alternative,’ Octavia thought to herself.
“So what am I supposed to do now?” She questioned, though having calmed slightly she was still visibly upset.
“First, we will get you set up in a room of your own, as I would prefer to avoid a repeat of the incident earlier this evening, besides it would be inappropriate for us to share quarters.”
Octavia blushed, remembering what had happened two hours prior when she had awoken to find herself in an unfamiliar room under the silken sheets of Twila’s bed with the older vampire staring at her. She had then promptly freaked out, flung the pillows at her, and ran around her chambers in a fit of hysteria until she had managed to calm her down. Convinced that this was all a dream, she had gone along with it until Vincenza’s parting words had caused the memories of the mugging and her discovery by Twila to come rushing back. The last thing she recalled was Twila reaching out to her as she lay on the sidewalk a block away from the Concert Hall bleeding to death from the multiple stab wounds in her abdomen and asking if she wanted to live. Being terrified of death, she had mustered the last of her fading strength and begged the vampire to save her before blacking out.
“I’m sorry about that.”
“That is quite alright your reaction was understandable given the circumstances,” the sapphire haired vampire soothed with a gentle smile.
“Why was I in your bed anyway and not in a quest room of some sort?” She questioned curiously.
“You were just bitten-it was important for me to keep watch to insure your ascension was successful, the venom’s effects are not always beneficial and occasionally violent. Yours went rather well I think and your injuries should have been reversed by now.”
Octavia lifted her grey blouse up to her chest and looked down at her stomach, and to her amazement; her wounds had disappeared without a trace leaving only smooth skin behind. The only mark being the small chicken pox scar next to her navel that she had had since she was a child.
“Incredible,” she whispered in amazement as she lowered her blouse.
“Regeneration is another benefit of undead existence as well as increased speed, enhanced senses, and the abilities that Vincenza mentioned earlier. Your abilities will grow in power as you get older.”
“So how old are you? If you don’t mind me asking,” Octavia inquired curiously.
“Let’s just say that you may know me from the history books by another name and leave it at that. After all a woman should never reveal her age,” Twila replied with a smile that reached her violet, almond shaped eyes.
Octavia stared at the other woman in disbelief as an inkling of an answer to the cryptic clue she was given entered her mind.
“There is no way, you cannot be serious!”
Twila’s smile grew at the exclamation. “Have you figured it out?”
“But that’s insane! What about Vinyl?”
“Vincenza is much younger than I am, being just under a century old.”
“But you both look like you’re barely out of your twenties. I mean you look like your thirty at the most.”
“I was thirty two when I ascended. Our appearance does not change; we do not age.”
“So I’ll be young forever…?”
“That is correct, however, that is not always a good thing.”
“How so?”
“For example, if an infant is bitten that child would never grow up, neither its mind nor its body developing.”
“That’s horrible,” Octavia gasped.
“That is why the Queen has passed certain laws against turning children,” Twila replied flatly.
“There is a Queen Vampire?”
“Her official title is Princess, but seeing as she is the last of the royal blood line that technically makes her our Queen.”
“This is certainly a lot to take in,” she sighed, leaning back in the ornately carved wooden chair.
“You’re handling it surprisingly well all things considered. Now come,” She motioned for Octavia to stand. “I’ll show you the rest of the estate.”
Octavia stood and followed Twila through the archway and into the hall. She turned and led her down the brightly lit hall, the heels of her raspberry colored stilettos, the same shade as her evening dress, clicking against the hardwood flooring. After several minutes of walking, they reached a spacious room filled with luxurious looking furniture. Two overstuffed leather couches sat facing each other across an oval shaped coffee table made of finished cherry wood. On the far right wall of the room was a large glass display case filled with what appeared to be artifacts from the Great War. Beyond the couches and tables was a small set of stairs leading up to a pair of massive doors made of ash and decorated with wrought iron designs.
“This is the foyer,” Twila swept her right arm out in an arch. Octavia stepped out into the middle of the room and spun, taking in all the detail at once. She looked up and saw that the room was lit by an ornate crystal chandelier hanging from a vaulted ceiling.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed in awe. Twila looked on in amusement at her fledgling’s admiration.
“This is not the most impressive of areas within the estate,” she informed her casually. Octavia ceased her turning, starring at the elder vampire with wide eyes.
“This just keeps getting better and better,” she let out.
“I’ve had much time to amass my fortune and, as such, have put an extensive amount of effort into creating the perfect home for our kind, we do so enjoy our creature comforts,” Twila explained with pride. “Now, if you would be so kind as to follow me to the library.”
“You have a library?”
“Why wouldn’t I? After all ones such as our selves have nothing, but time on our hands and reading literature is an excellent way to enjoy that time. I think you will find my collection to be of great interest.”
“What about those doors over there?” Octavia questioned, pointing towards the doors of ash and iron.
“Beyond those are the main grounds, which I will show you later when I feel that you have recovered sufficiently enough to venture outside.”
“If you say so,” she said sounding rather put off. Twila moved towards an old style arched door set in the left side of the foyer and opened it, revealing another hallway lit by the same candelabrum style lamps that had been mounted on the walls of the previous passage way.
“Now if you would be so kind as to follow me,” Twila said a little more cheerfully as she started off down the hall. Octavia followed a few paces behind, taking note of the other vampire’s appearance from the rear. Her dark, sapphire blue hair fell just past her slender shoulders and had a single stripe of violet the same shade as her eyes as well as a stripe of rose pink running through it. The silken strands swayed with every confident stride that she took. The raspberry colored evening dress she wore came down to the tops of her well toned calves and clung to every curve that mattered showing off a lithe and modestly endowed figure. Though Octavia was at least a head taller than the elder female vampire the way Twila carried herself left her feeling intimidated, it was as if she were the embodiment of true power in its most refined form. She was not wrong in this assumption.
“Twila?” She questioned timidly after a moment.
“Yes?”
“I was just wondering, if you are really who you implied yourself to be, how come you don’t have an accent like others from the old country?”
“It’s faded over the course of the centuries that I have lived here. Speaking the same language for as long as I have would most likely destroy even the thickest of accents,” she informed her, keeping her gaze forward as they continued down the hall.
“You know now that I think about it,” Octavia said, putting a finger to her bottom lip in thought, “you kind of sound like that one voice actress from the north.”
“You mean the one who plays Raven?” Twila laughed derisively.
“Yes, you’re familiar with her work?”
Twila snorted in response to her question.
“It sounds like you don’t enjoy any of it,” Octavia sounded slightly offended at the other woman’s reaction to what she thought was a compliment.
“I have nothing against the actress herself, but one tends to dislike something when they are constantly being compared to it for the sake of other’s amusement.”
“Oh,” was all she could muster in reply. Several seconds later Octavia crashed into Twila having failed to notice that the elder vampire had stopped in front a set of double doors set in a coquina archway. She turned around and smiled at her, chuckling slightly at her apparent lack of attention. Octavia stared back at her and rubbed the back of her head sheepishly before noticing something amiss in Twila’s smile.
“I thought vampires had fangs,” she said like she had spoken a great truth.
“I was wondering when you would notice,” Twila replied, her smile growing wider, “Right here.” Suddenly her bottom and top canines were replaced with a set of needle like fangs with an audible click. Octavia jumped back, shocked by the sudden appearance of the deadly looking dentin.
“That’s amazing!” She exclaimed after the shock wore off, stepping forward to examine them.
“They work much like a serpent’s, extending and retracting with contractions from special muscles in our jaws,” Twila stated, said fangs being replaced with their more human counterparts once more. “It will take some time for you to get a hold of it; I would recommend practicing in front of a mirror.”
Octavia nodded in understanding, oddly excited to see how her own fangs would appear. Twila turned to face the double doors and pushed them open with ease. The newly sired vampire followed closely behind as she entered the library and let out a gasp of amazement. Before her was a collection of books enough to rival even the largest of bookstores. The room was shaped like a pentagon with all five walls taken up by high book shelves that almost reached the vaulted ceiling two stories above them. Ten glass cases stood before the shelves, each filled with an assorted collection of war memorabilia. Between each case sat a marble pedestal on which rested even more books. Octavia walked into the center of the library, her gaze everywhere at once.
“This is incredible,” she whispered completely awestruck. The full moon shone through the rounded skylight directly above her, bathing her in its beautiful pale light. She inhaled deeply and smiled in content as the scent of aged paper filled her nose.
“I love the smell of old books!” She exclaimed joyfully.
“As do I,” was Twila’s response. Octavia looked up at the moon through the skylight and sighed happily as she basked in its light.
“The moon is very beautiful tonight.”
“As is all of the Night Goddess’ work,” Twila replied softly, becoming entranced with the ethereal illuminations of the celestial body herself.
“I would like to show you something special to me,” she said after some time. She motioned for Octavia to follow her and led her to a rather unassuming looking door between two of the massive selves. The door opened outwards and she stepped inside with Octavia not far behind. As soon as she entered the room she was greeted with the comforting warmth of a burning fire, the smell of tobacco and pine tickling her nostrils.
“This is my study. It’s where I come to think,” Twila said observing the younger vampire as she took note of her surroundings. It was a rather small room, with a stone fire place taking up most of the wall before them. Above the fire place hung a faded portrait of an older gentleman with a neatly trimmed beard who bore a remarkable resemblance to Twila. To the left of them sat an old pine drawing desk, a sketch book had been left sitting open on its treated surface.
“You draw?”
“Among other things,” the sapphire haired woman answered taking a seat in the overstuffed leather easy chair at the right of the hearth. Octavia strode over to the desk and picked up the sketch pad as the other vampire poured a clear red liquid into a glass from the bottle sitting on the small end table next to the chair.
“These are really good,” she commented, flipping through the various sketches, mostly of people she did not recognize.
“Thank you, I’ve had time to practice. Would you care for some wine?” Twila offered.
“I thought we couldn’t consume regular food or drink?”
“Sadly we cannot, but there are some things from my past that I cannot give up. I’m more than willing to suffer the consequences for a fine merlot,” she answered, swirling the wine before taking a large drought from the glass. “Ah, a fine year.”
“Twila?” Octavia asked as she closed the sketch book and placed it back on the desk.
“Yes?” She questioned, taking another sip from her glass.
“Who are those people in the sketches?” she inquired delicately. Twila stared into the slowly dying fire for a moment before answering.
“People who have been gone a long time now,” she answered quietly, her eyes never leaving the flames.
“Did you know them?”
“Some,” Twila said, her eyes growing distant. “Not all, but I will never forget their faces.”
“I’m sorry. Did something happen?” Octavia asked gently.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” the elder vampire said, her violet eyes meeting Octavia’s mulberry. “But the reminiscing of an old woman can be saved for another time. I still need to show you the rest of the estate.”
Twila stood, downing the rest of the merlot, she placed the dirtied glass back on the table and made her way back out into the library. From there Octavia followed her through another set of double doors, opposite of the ones they had entered, into another hall, this one lined with low display cases along the right hand side.
“You have a lot of military artifacts,” she pointed out, observing that each case was home to different bladed weaponry from various eras.
“My home is a war museum during the day,” Twila said off handedly. Octavia stopped in her tracks and starred at the elder vampire’s back in disbelieve.
“Wait a second…this is a war museum?” She asked incredulously. “You’re not serious are you?”
“I most certainly am.”
“But the only war museum in the entire city is,” she paused, her eyes lighting up in realization. “Sweet Celestia, I’m in the Golden Oak Museum!? I’ve always wanted to see the inside of this place!”
“Indeed you are,” Twila stated, laughing at her fledgling’s outburst.
“So you’re really The Twila Sparks?”
“That is correct.”
“Wow I cannot believe I was so dumb as to not have figured that out. To think this entire time I never bothered to ask what your last name was,” Octavia said in exasperation of her own absentmindedness.
“Do not degrade yourself,” Twila admonished. “The topic had simply not arisen yet.”
“But why turn your home into a museum? It seems like a spectacularly bad idea, what if someone finds yours or Vinyl’s rooms?”
“There are certain parts of the estate cordoned during the day so that does not happen, for as to why I have turned my home into a museum, it was sadly the only way for me to keep what I have worked so hard for in this dire economy.”
“Oh, but I suppose it is rather generous of you to open up your home like this so other people can learn about the past,” Octavia said understandingly.
“Those who fail to remember the past are forever doomed to repeat it,” Twila quoted sardonically. She then began to walk down the hall once more with Octavia in tow. They walked along in silence, the newly ascended fledgling wondering just what exactly Twila had meant when she stated that line the way she did.
‘She’s been alive for such a long time. I wonder, does she think she is doomed to repeat the mistakes of her own past?’ She pondered this as they came to the end of the hall. There were two doors, one to the left and one directly ahead, each made of ash. Twila opened the door in front of them.
“This is the wine cellar,” she pointed out as she reached up and pulled the chain hanging from the ceiling just beyond the door, turning the light on with a barely audible click. The soft light of the low watt CFL bulb revealed a small flight of stairs leading to rack after rack of dusty wine bottles.
“The museum offers wine tastings on the weekends,” Twila spoke. “I keep the finest of them stashed away in my study however.” She reached up and pulled the chain again, plunging the cellar into darkness once more. Twila then turned to the door on the left and entered the room beyond it. Octavia followed suit, shutting the door to the hall behind them. The room itself was about the size of the foyer though not as brightly lit. There were three charcoal grey painted doors, each set in the opposite walls. In the center of the room sat a low octagonal table of stained mahogany on which rested a carved wooden bust of a horse which Octavia found to be odd and a little disturbing. Two leather chairs flanked the table each with their own ottoman. At the head of the table rested a leather couch much the same as the ones in the foyer. An old brick fire place occupied the space just left of the door they had entered, though it was not lit. Along the walls was tall display cases, a different military uniform rested in each. Decorative busts, of people thankfully, sat upon pedestals in the corners.
“This is the common room, it is the last of the rooms open to the public,” said Twila. “The door on your left leads to the kitchen, not that we really use it other than to store blood and dining ware.” Octavia approached the kitchen door and opened it. Poking her head through the door way she noticed how empty it was save for the large refrigerator and three ornate cabinets.
“Where does this door go?” She asked as she saw the small door on the other side of the kitchen.
“That one leads to the back of the dining hall,” was Twila’s reply. Octavia closed the kitchen door and looked around the common room once more. Twila stood off to the right of the room, her hands clasped together in front of her stomach as she regarded what looked like an ancient travelers’ cloak made from burlap resting in the display case before her.
“That was yours was it not?” Octavia asked noticing that faraway look returning to her sire’s eyes.
“Yes,” she answered sounding distant. Concerned, Octavia stepped into her field of vision, standing between her and the display case and placed her hand on her left shoulder.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, I was just remembering something,” Twila responded. “I don’t normally come into this room.”
“Oh, well why don’t you show me a different one then?”
“Very well, this way,” she motioned for Octavia to follow and she did.
“These are Vincenza’s chambers,” she pointed out as she led her past the door on the right of the room. Octavia nodded as they continued on to the last door. She followed the elder vampire through into another hall, the right wall lined with paintings depicting epic battles past.
“I remember this hall from earlier,” said the newly ascended vampire. Indeed this had been the first part of the estate she had seen when Twila had taken her to the dining hall earlier that night. “That’s your room there right?”
“That’s correct.”
“You said something about me getting my own room earlier; does that mean I’m going to be living here now?”
“Of course, where did you think you would be staying?”
“Oh I don’t know my apartment perhaps?” Octavia quipped, sarcasm dripping off her words.
“You have just ascended; it’s pertinent that you stay here under my supervision, until you can control your hunger at the very least. We can’t have you running around the city attacking people now can we?”
“I suppose you’re right, but…” she was interrupted by a beeping alarm. Surprised, Twila looked down at the gold watch on her wrist.
“Hmm, it seems to be later then I thought it was. I’m afraid I must leave you for now, my assistant Spike will be here shortly to open,” the vampire spoketh, leading Octavia to another door a few paces down the hall.
“This will be your room,” she told her, opening the door to reveal the space beyond. “There should be sleeping garments and a change of clothes in the wardrobe and fresh towels in the linen closet if Spike did as I requested of him this morning.”
“If there is anything else that you need feel free to ask, our rooms are connected so avoid using the hall during the day,” she said as she turned to go.
“Twila?” Octavia called, reaching out and taking her hand in her own. She stopped and turned, their eyes meeting.
“Yes Octavia?”
“Thank you, for all that you’ve done for me I mean. I literally owe you everything,” she said, her voice beginning to waiver.
“Believe me, it was my pleasure, we were in dire need of company,” Twila replied with a smile. “Sleep well Octavia.” She gave her hand a comforting squeeze and let go. Octavia watched her as she disappeared down the hall and sighed before stepping into her new room. It was rather spacious with a large canopy bed occupying most of the far left wall. The curtains on it were drawn revealing crisp white sheets. There was an old vanity next to the bed with a wardrobe of cherry wood to its right. Octavia made her way over to the wardrobe, but paused in front of the vanity. She looked over herself in its mirror, her mulberry eyes taking in every detail. The skin on her face was pale and flawless now, her eyes and gunmetal grey hair seemingly more vibrant. She studied the rest of her reflection, noticing that her curves had become much more pronounced. As her eyes traveled down, she saw the stain on her blouse from when the blood had spilled on her.
‘I should try and get this out before it sets,’ she thought to herself taking off the blouse so she could try and wash the stain out. She rubbed her thumb over the spot taking note that it was still wet. Octavia brought it closer to her face to examine it better.
‘I’m supposed to live off of this from now on?’ She wondered as the smell reached her nose. No more thoughts came as the hunger took over. She brought the garment to her mouth, her tongue darting out and lapping at the spot greedily. The appendage worked franticly, trying its best to remove the life sustaining fluid from the soft fabric. It was too late before she gained control again and realized what it was that she had been doing. A look of revulsion crossed her features and she tossed the soiled blouse to the side, disgusted with it and her own actions.
“Dear Celestia!” She moaned and collapsed onto the bed sobbing. Octavia Melody cried for the life she had lost and for the creature she had become. She fell asleep crying, never realizing that her tears had run red.