A yawn echoed through the silence of the study, lingering for only a moment before it was slowly devoured by the silence once more. The noise had alerted the acute hearing of the female occupant. With a small, almost undetectable sigh, she tore her focus from the small printed text of the book on the small sitting desk in front of her and turned it to gaze at the origin of the noise.
"Is something wrong father Nightroad?" she asked, her voice was thin and frail, almost like a thin piece of glass, the slightest interruption enough to shatter it into shards.
Her voice had always been like this though, or at least as long as Abel had known her..
The silver haired priest was caught off guard by the questioned. He had not been paying much attention to the work at hand but had instead allowed his mind to wander back to the topic of food. Smiling sheepishly back as the question finally sunk in he rubbed the back of his head uneasily.
"No, I'm alright Annabel, just a bit tired," was the reply as he turned his attention back to the book that lay in front of him, the page had been turned but once in the entire six hours the two had spent in the study.
Annabel looked at him for a moment before returning her gaze once again to the book she had previously been focusing on. Unable to control the urge she reluctantly allowed her eyes to travel up and along the wall until they found the grandfather clock which stood off to the side of the desk she was currently seated at. It was nearly one in the morning. With another low, almost inaudible sigh she slowly closed the book and placed it in the right hand corner of the desk.
"You should get some sleep father, you will not be very affective on our mission tomorrow if you are sleeping on your feet," she said standing and tucking her chair away into its appropriate place. "I will walk you back to your room."
"How would one sleep on their feet?"
Annabel turned her head to the origin of the monotone voice that had drifted across the room from the shadows of the far corner. There stood a tall man with dull orange hair and dark piercing eyes. She had almost forgotten his presence in the room he had fallen silent for so long.
"It is merely an expression father Tres," she replied, no smile or any other emotion could be detected on her pale features.
"It really is quiet alright Annabel, you should get some sleep as well," Abel interjected from his place looking at her with the same sheepish smile that his face seemed to always adorn.
"I'm not tired," was the reply.
At first sight Annabel would appear one who had not slept in a number of days. Her features though beautiful were as pale as alabaster and seeming just as cold, like that of a porcelain dolls while the rest of her skin seemed to small for her body even though at 5'8 she was a very petite woman. She didn't look quiet put together, her joints seeming loose and her body frail and thin. Despite this she never seemed to have much of an appetite usually refusing food.
Long silver white hair hung to the middle of her back and around her face. Above each ear was a flower, the same blood red color as her eyes. A tight black dress clung to this thin frame, the collar low exposing the skin stretched across her collar bone. The sleeves level with the collar showing her shoulders, as fragile as the rest of her body appeared.
"Well, then good night Annabel, I will see you tomorrow."
That being said he turned and exited the study Tres following behind him. Annabel's eyes never left the two even after they had gone and the door of the study been shut behind them.
Reaching up a thin hand she removed each of the flowers in turn from her hair and laying them atop the book she had been reading moments before. Looking at the clock once more she walked towards the hard wood door of the study. Placing her hand on the cold knob she turned it causing the door to open with a small click and silently slipping into the hall. With the door closed she began to walk down the hall towards the abbey, her bare feet were silent against the cold floor of the hallways and passages of the Church.
Finally emerging into the abbey she looked up and down the empty rows of pews to make sure that she was indeed by herself. The moonlight shining though the stained glass windows created colorful shadows which dance carelessly about between the pews and along the aisle.
Allowing her eyes to linger on the sight for a moment she walked down the aisle towards the large, double doors that lead to the sleeping city outside. With one push the great doors opened allowing her entrance to the night. A myriad of stars hung over the quiet town with its sleeping inhabitants. The cool night air brushed against her face as if in attempt to push the strands of hair back behind her ears, her blood red eyes seeming to reflect the pale glittering light that the moon cast over the ground.
Slowly, Annabel began down the stairs of the Church. Nights were the only time she wanted to be outside, something about the darkness made her feel more at home, like a blanket that hid what she was from the world.
She was looking for him again, the one person who would justify her life in this form for so long, the one reason she was not already dead and did not take her life herself. No, she had to take his first, the way he had stripped her of her own. Because of him her future had no meaning and no point, there was nothing except to kill the ones that her superiors told her were evil and malicious even if they were doing the things in the name was what they truly believed. In an odd way, the humans and vampires were alike in more ways then they were different. The humans had risen after the war, but hadn't the vampires as well. Both sides only fought for the freedom of their people without the constant threat of invasion and extermination by the other factor.
Averting her gaze from the pavement to the now reddening horizon her lips curled into what most would not be able to consider a true frown. Such expressions were devoid. Turning she headed back towards the Church, there would be no point staying out for much longer. Once the sun had risen her blanket of shadows and darkness would be slowly eaten away by light and she would be reminded of her existence.
Standing in the arch of the still open doors Annabel took on last look at the quickly fading darkness, one she would not see till next night. Turning she returned to within the walls of the Church, closing the doors behind her.