There was something about the first bride that was a bit different from the others. Perhaps it was because she was the first to die. But if one were to ask the brothers, they'd have said it was her eyes. Sharp and snake-like, the golden green that emanated from her gaze was unparalleled. If one had to make a comparison, they might almost say she had…

"Nee, Cora, tell me you love me."

"I love you."

She learned rather quickly that indulging in the vampire's requests would mean a much less painful life. Or rather, what remained of her life.

Because she knew she had been sent to die. A sacrificial offering to the monsters that threatened the church.

But she was no Holy Virgin.

An old maid, by the church's standards. Already twenty-four and with no foreseeable prospects in life. An orphan that no one cared about, raised in the monastery. The choice was only all too obvious when talk of a blood sacrifice came about.

Repaying an old debt, is what they said. The Lord saved you, they said. She wasn't aware that God was one to collect favors. If that were so, she would have chosen to die much sooner.

Of course, there was no such thing as God. That much, at least, she knew. And she knew that despite this lack of God, there was an ever-present devil.

And his name was Laito Sakamaki.

Hair red like the flames of hell, and eyes green like Hades' sea of souls. But perhaps the cruelest attribute held by this Lucifer was the simple fact that he was beautiful.

He took her blood; her flesh. One day, she knew, he would also take her life.

What she didn't know was why Laito looked at her the way he did. Nor did she understand why Ayato glared upon her with such disdain.

For all of Laito's Faustian aura, there was a certain dullness behind the high-pitched laughter. It made her more uneasy than Ayato's deadly glares.

The worst, however, was Kanato, who did not look at her in any particular sort of way. He simply…looked. And he would continue to look, cocking his head and whispering to his teddy bear.

"What was your name again?" He always seemed genuinely curious, requesting this ever important bit of information.

"Cora." She'd reply simply.

"Co-ra…" Kanato would repeat, as though he were lost in a dream. He'd then murmur something she couldn't hear to the stuffed bear, and look her up and down, examining her frame.

"You're too short," He'd decide, or determine that her hair was too black, or something else that seemed to reject whatever train of thought he had so obviously calculated in his head. He would then end the interaction by declaring her hair to be hideous. That hair like his was indeed much better.

Laito, like Kanato, agreed on the subject.

Laito giggled often. And he kissed her often. But mostly, he tugged at her black hair, calling it ugly. Saying that she'd look better with a lighter shade. That when it was like this, she looked like a gypsy.

"Fufu, is that why you're such a slut Cora? Because you're a gypsy?"

She would always reply the same way. "I don't know what I am."

It was an answer that always triggered that scary smile to crawl upon his face. "Don't you know?" He would say, licking his lips, "You're mine."

She didn't quite understand the dynamic that existed between vampires. Once Laito had claimed her as his, the others seemed to ignore her. Which suited her just fine. But she had assumed she'd be drained upon arriving.

Perhaps Laito enjoyed playing with his food.

But as the weeks dragged on, she soon learned from her captor that the reason behind the other vampires' indifference was due to the fact that her blood was positively average. Which, apparently, was a good thing for her.

Laito didn't seem to mind. But if her blood was nothing special, then she couldn't understand why he was so obsessed with her, when the others simply were not.

It was frightening, to a certain extent. Especially in the moments where his playful facade began to crack. Could a vampire be driven to madness? If Laito was any example, she believed herself walking on his tightrope of insanity. In his world, there existed no safety net. And Laito had a way of snapping the rope without warning.

There came a day when she looked upon the face of death. Did not die for reasons unknown to her, memory failing her— or perhaps purposely evading her. But certain things were perfectly clear: Laito's laugh ringing in her ears, her blood— her spilled and soiled blood— splattered against his sleeves, dripping down his lips. The sharp pain between her legs, her flesh torn; claimed and stolen by the vampire that panted above her.

"Fufu, nee, nee, call me a good boy! I'm a good boy, aren't I?!"

Her throat had long since been void of sound, and she could not remember whether or not she had the strength to indulge him.

But by what obligation was she bound to him, he who had robbed her of everything?

Tremors still raked her body when the unfortunate memory returned in flashes. And without realizing, tears stained her cheeks, just as they had that day. But here the memory would fail, because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't remember whether those tears had been his, or hers.

If he were only a monster, it would not have been so cruel.

"Nee, Cora, do you want to be more attractive?" He said one day.

She didn't know what he meant by that. With the amount of times he claimed her body, she didn't think it took very much to capture his attentions. But going against him, especially when his voice was so sickeningly sweet, would result only in torment.

"I would, Laito." She said politely.

He seemed to purr in excitement, clapping his hands and then grabbing her by the arm, leading her down a maze of halls.

They stopped in front of a room she'd never seen before, the large door heavy and intimidating. Laito's giggles seemed to rise, his hand excitedly twisting at the handle so as to open the door. She held her breath, though she did not know why, when Laito tightened his grip on her wrist, pulling her inside.

The room was hopelessly plain. The windows sealed shut, framed by dark drapes weighed down by dust. An armoire stood in the back corner, facing the door. It looked…out of place. Laito led her closer, urging her to open it. Inside rested nothing but a dress; navy with white ruffles, a blinding white rose splattered with red, the sleeves somewhat torn.

She may have imagined it; hoped she'd imagined it— but the sudden scent of blood filled her lungs.

"Laito," she began cautiously, "…What is this?"

His hands snaked around her waist, holding her from behind, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Try it on."

It was obvious enough. The torn fabric, the streaks of red. It was inevitable. What she always knew was destined to happen. And even as she stripped down, stepping into the ball gown stained in stranger's blood, she remained perfectly calm, accepting things for what they were.

Because, her entire life had progressed without purpose. So it was only fitting that she die in the same manner. But, as she adjusted the strap on the ripped sleeve, looking at the vampire that'd become her keeper, she couldn't help but wonder if this death did have purpose. If not to her, then perhaps to him.

Laito visibly shivered before her, his fangs bared as he smiled, "You look so scared!" He whined happily, rushing up to her. Her muscles froze.

"You are, aren't you?" He whispered, his breath now on her lips.

She dared not answer, her breath catching.

He brought his palms against her cheeks, cupping her face, the sudden cold still managing to shock her, even after all this time. With uncharacteristic tenderness he pulled her in, guiding her lips so that she was just a breath's distance from his own. "Cordelia," he whispered, gleam lining his eyes, making them shine despite the darkness of the room. "I'll do it right this time. Not with Ayato's filthy hands."

Her breath was stolen from her, Laito granting her a deep kiss.

Cordelia. She'd heard the name before. But the only thing she could gather from it, was that it was either a woman he loved far too much, or hated with all his being.

But she would remain in ignorance, knowing nothing more than the feel of a knife against her chest, slicing the flesh, and taking her life.

A/N: I feel like I wanna do Kanato next because I've had that idea for a while...and also I love Kanato.