The Sakura's Song

[Apotolofo 1414]

 

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It was that time again. Her skin began to wrinkle, and bags formed beneath her eyes. She felt her hunger, her thirst grow. 

 

It was a time she always dreaded. She had never taken blood from someone unwilling. And yet, drinking it always had the same awful, wicked feeling that she couldn’t shake. 

 

Each time it only grew more and more painful, increasingly difficult- a strain on her mental well being. And yet she fed, as often as she could, to ensure she did not fall into a rage. 

 

. . . But Henna was getting tired. 

 

She thought to herself, ‘this is the last time I feed. I promise.’ She knew what it meant. And she was ready for it. 

 

A year went by, and she lived as she normally did. She served tea, she smiled, she laughed, and played music for all to hear. She began to feel the hunger gnawing at her gut. . . But she ignored it. 

 

Another year passed, and it was starting to get bad. Every exposed bit of flesh she saw, she could feel her teeth aching to sink into something- and she hated it. Every mirror she looked within, she saw her face gaunt, and ugly. Her vanity had kept her a vampire, after all- how foolish she was, to think that this vanity would keep her sane. That it would be enough. 

 

How selfish was she to allow it to go on.

 

 

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But it was too late, now. 

 

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She tidied up the teahouse, left a note for the owner. She smiled to the neighbors, and went into the forest. Deep into the woods did she go, until she could no longer hear the voices of civilization. Until nary a trace of smoke was seen upon the sky. 

 

She walked, her hunger and thirst growing with every step. How she longed to taste the metallic sting, to put an end to this suffering! Yet she knew it would only bring her more anguish. 

Days went by, and still she walked. She was near the brink of insanity, she knew. It had gotten to the point where her arm was riddle with punctures- both from her extended talons, scratching at her own flesh- or her teeth, from trying to drink her own blood. Nothing worked. 

 

She was frail, she had not eaten in weeks- the berries and vegetation she had consumed when she first entered the forest no longer appealed to her. 

 

Soon, she collapsed to the ground, shaking- trembling. Her skin sickly, hair falling out- her beautiful face was disfigured. Her greatest pride and joy, destroyed by the folly of her own vanity. 

And so, Henna prepared to face starvation- she could hardly move as it was. . . Lying on her back, she gazed at the stars, admiring the full moon for one last time. 

 

 

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Then. . . She heard a song.

 

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It was a beautiful song, more alluring and enchanting than any melody she could have ever hoped to play. Somehow, Henna found the strength to rise, and drift towards the source of the sound. 

 

She was met by a sight of beauty. A beauty that reached beyond appearances. It beckoned her, drew her near- a luminescent cherry blossom tree, its bark smooth and pearly. Its flowers of pale and vibrant pink floated around her, tickling at her skin. She reached its trunk, a hand going out to touch the mystical plant. 

 

Sleep. It whispered. 

 

Henna could only nod, her bloodstained and barbaric body curling up beneath the tree’s branches, resting in its roots. ‘Yes, let me embrace beauty one last time, before it all ends. One more time. . .’ 

And so, she fell into a deep slumber. 

 

Unbeknownst to Henna, its roots creaked and twisted, wrapping her in a casket. . . or perhaps, a cocoon. 

 

It was the end of her life. And perhaps, the start of another…

 

Spoiler

OOC:
The STs said I could turn her into an epiphyte, so woo! Here we goooo!

I was honestly going to PK this character, so if the CA doesn’t work, this post might have a [PK] in front of it soon.