All Of This Past
Relena' s POV
August 24, 1572. For those who are familiar with this date would what event had occurred, but for those who are not, allow me to unravel. That date was the day known today as Massacre of St. Bartholomew. The day that I can still remember the screams and the site of Protestant blood being spilled. So many people, no Protestant was spared, not even the children. I died that day as well, not a victim being slain, but to my own fall. I was engaged to a Protestant, I didn't care about religion, because I at the time I found true happiness, but that night changed everything. Gaspard was slain right before my very eyes, they took their sword and slit him on the throat, blood pouring out, his body which I clung to so tightly, never caring about his blood staining my skin. His lifeless expression is still fresh in my memory, the look of terror and sadness, because it seemed as though he knew, but ashamed that he wouldn't be there to enjoy life.
My name is Relena Peacecraft, and I have been dead now for 436 years. I ended my life that night drowning myself, and my last view of life that laid before me was an ocean of blood and corpses. Milliardo forbids me to talk of such a subject, but I cannot forget what was and is still part of me. Damn him. Damn him for saving me and for turning me into his kind. A blood feeding creature. A vampire. Blood is all I see now since the time I have been dead. Now all I have is a cycle of unforgiving memories, and eternity. There is no happiness, no love, or that feeling of affection. Emptiness.