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The darkened cobblestone streets of the village were only lit by sparse lamp posts, the crescent moon grinned down on Violet as she walked hidden in shadow, only illuminated when she walked directly under the light. She had to be the one sent down to retrieve anything for the castle as Elizabeth’s former lady-in-waiting was dead and the countess refused to leave the castle grounds.
As she approached the village’s anomalous modern supermarket, she found a young woman standing under a flickering lamp post. A growing urge inside her stomach jerked her body, she fought it off, still not used to her new found afterlife as a vampire. The glaring lights of the supermarket gave Violet a headache, she replaced her dark purple tinted sunglasses as she browsed the hair dye section. It had not even occurred to her that her hair would keep growing and she had grown tired of Elizabeth teasing her for her naturally ginger roots. She walked absently through the aisles, eyes scanning the multicoloured shelves of snacks she used to eat but no longer had a craving for. In the deli she caught a glimpse of two women right before they turned the corner and she could have sworn it had been Drayton and Marjorie, but it would not have made any sense for them to be there. Even if it had been them, would she have approached them? Having to explain to everyone she had chosen to become a vampire was a conversation that nearly had her staked with a billiard cue, after all. She dropped a few steaks into her basket, hoping it would satisfy her craving. Part of her still refused to drink the blood of the innocent, she was a mercenary yes, but she had some morals left.
The cashier gave her a quizzical look as she rang her up for the purple hair dye and steaks, making an offhand comment on whether or not she ever thought about going for a different colour, to which Violet responded with a scoff.
Outside, the cold night air stung her nose, and even through the plastic she could smell the rawness of the steaks in her bag. The young woman she had seen earlier was still standing under the lamppost. Violet stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the girl. She was a mercenary, something Elizabeth started to use to her advantage for when she needed to satisfy her blood craving. She had brought the countess countless villagers, typically the ones no one would miss and from the looks of this girl and the tattered backpack by her feet, Violet knew she fit the criteria. She strided up to her, leaning against the lamppost and struck up a conversation.

“Hey.” She began, putting on a charming facade.

The young woman looked at her quizzically. “Hey…” She said carefully.

“A bit too young to be out here on your own, don’t you think?”

The girl did not respond, the void in Violet’s stomach grew, demanding blood. She took a good long look at her, her denim vest covered in patches of bands Violet used to listen to when she was a teenager.

“You don’t look like you belong here.” Violet said.

“Neither do you.” The girl said, gesturing to her leather jacket and dyed hair.

“Then let’s get out of here.” She winked.

Taking her hand, Violet led her behind the shop. The young woman leaned against the wall, with Violet's arms on either side of her. She smirked, wrapping an arm around her and dropping her bag on the ground. The quiet whimper the girl made as Violet bit her manifested in her chest as guilt. She dropped her, wiping the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand. There was still some left in her, she could be saved if the world allowed it. The back door of the market’s storage room burst open and she disappeared into the night, hearing a high-pitched scream announcing the body’s discovery.

Each lamp post shut off after Violet passed under it, leaving her trail a void. Upon returning to the castle she greeted Elizabeth with a kiss.

"Hm, you bit someone." The countess murmured after she pulled away, her thick accent rang through Violet’s ears.


"Don't lie to me, Violet."

She huffed, knowing the countess liked it better when they fed together. "Well, in any case, does this make up for it?" She asked, handing the countess the paper bag of steak.

"No, but it will do." Elizabeth pressed another kiss to her lips. "Hm, young thing, wasn't she?"

Violet turned away, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn't understand why she felt bad for this, she usually did not feel bad for killing people, she liked it in fact. Her youth, perhaps was a factor, the fact she was the type of person Violet would have hung out with too. She felt the countess’s arms wrap around her and gently kiss her shoulder.

“It will saturate,” She murmured, “And you will get used to it.”

They ate in silence, sitting on opposite sides of an impossibly long table. Even from the distance, Violet could feel the tension in the air. She distracted herself by reading the back of her box of hair dye. With no warning, the countess sidled up beside her, plucking the box from her hand and beckoning her to the bathroom.

Violet knew for a fact it was unnecessary for her to not have any of her clothes on, but upon the countess’s insistence she sat bare in the ancient claw-footed tub in the bathroom. Gloved fingers gently raked through her hair. Opting not to use bleach, they instead used a lightener that had striped the copper from the assassin’s hair in thirty minutes, leaving her as blonde as that damnable diminutive detective she left behind so long ago.
The assassin shivered when a strip of cold hair dye met her scalp. It smelled horrible and burned Elizabeth’s nose as she inhaled. She worked her fingers through her hair, making sure she covered every last strand. Violet had dyed her own hair for a while, not used to feeling someone else's fingers comb through it. Her shoulders relaxed, enjoying the feeling of the countess’s fingers saturating her hair.
After all was done, she wished she could see herself in the mirror, but she trusted the countess. Staring at the crime scene of purple that was the ancient claw-footed bathtub, she believed the countess when she said the guilt would go away, and when she laid in their shared bed, she believed her when she said she was beautiful.