Year 1864
Selene was so happy. Tonight's the night, she thought to herself, her body tingling in joy.
After three hundred years, it seemed like she hand Leon were finally taking another step forward.
Selene basically skipped into her room, but something was wrong. Where Leon kept his clothes were empty – the drawers were vacant. His pipe was missing, the one that he'd smoke every night before going to sleep. The scissors she cut his hair with was mysteriously gone; his closet was filled with nothing but loneliness.
Confused, 460-year-old Selene wandered around for some clue, something to tell her what the hell was going on.
It was in the bedroom, on her pillow that she found the note.
Selene read it once, twice, thrice, until her eyes grew tired and thoughts swarmed in her head. I thought he loved me, she wailed in her mind.
She broke down and sobbed herself to sleep that night, hoping that it was all just some hellish nightmare that her damn mind had conjured up, but Selene woke up the next morning to an empty bed, and empty rooms – an empty life.
Selene felt something happen to her, and didn't want to stop it.
She felt her heart freeze and die that morning, and her soul grew cold as her spirit fell. She vowed to never let anyone – Leon especially – back into the depths of her being.