Elias

From the ashes, he will rise. A prophecy I once read many moons ago. I scoffed at the time. Thought it sounded like every other overused tale of redemption. Always rising. Always from the ashes. What is it with humans and fire? Is there nothing else we can rise from—mud, shadow, bone? Show me a prophecy that doesn’t end with someone crawling out of the grave like it’s a daily occurrence. Show me something original. And yet—here I am. From the ashes, I rose. It wasn’t glamorous. No divine chorus. No bolt of lightning. Just the cold reality of waking up with pain lodged deep in my chest and a soul I didn’t ask for humming beneath my skin. Funny thing about prophecies: they only ever tell you part of the truth. A glimpse. A suggestion. They guide—they don’t explain. And most of the time, they lie. But this one… this one told the truth. I had lived more lifetimes than even the gods cared to count. I was something ancient—something feared. A monster. A myth. A curse with a pulse. Until she came. I don’t know if she was a priestess, an angel, or just some cruel twist of fate wrapped in a mortal form. What I do know is that her blood was different. It burned. Not with fire—no. With light. With mercy. A thousand years of sin unraveled with one taste. She didn’t scream. She didn’t beg. She looked at me with eyes full of sorrow, not fear. And in that moment, I hated her. Because I knew I would never be the same. Her blood was laced with humanity—not just the flavor, but the truth of it. The weight. The ache. I didn’t just drink her—I remembered her. All of her. Her pain. Her dreams. Her hope. She shattered me without ever lifting a blade. Before that, I had fed on everything. Humans, animals, whatever moved and bled. I didn’t kill for pleasure or revenge. I killed because I could. Because I was. I walked through time like a god without conscience. I cracked bones between my teeth, let bodies rot where they fell. I knew no sorrow. No guilt. No consequence. I was the end of every story. The nightmare behind every prayer. And now? Now a single human tear breaks me. Now the frightened squeal of a pig echoes in my chest like thunder. Now the look of terror in a stranger’s eyes makes me turn away in shame. I’ve become something I don’t recognize. I live in shadow. But I long for the sun. Not the light itself—but what it means. Warmth. Forgiveness. Peace. I want it to touch me, to kiss this skin that hasn’t aged in centuries. To thaw the blood that crawls through my veins like ghosts. I have a heart, though it doesn’t beat. And yet I feel it—every wound, every regret. They sing inside me like a choir of lost souls. The memories—oh, the memories. They do not fade. They come in waves. I remember every scream, every flame, every life I took like it was owed to me. I once thought I was invincible. Now I know better. Because the worst punishment isn’t death. It’s remembrance. It’s being made to feel. And yet… for the first time in centuries, I smile. Not because I’ve been redeemed. Not because I’ve been forgiven. But because I’m changed. The hunger still lives inside me. The beast still stirs beneath my skin. But now… now I choose. I choose restraint. I choose silence. I choose to carry the weight of what I was—because I can. I am no longer the thing that kills without thought. No longer the shadow that devours light. I am something else now. I walk the earth not as a man, not as a monster. But as a creature caught in between. The undead. The unholy. A vampire—with a soul. Do you know what that means? It means I feel everything—but I cannot die. I can break, but I will not bleed. I can love—but never age. I can suffer—and I do. So yes… from the ashes, I rose. Not reborn. Not redeemed. Rewritten. A prophecy fulfilled—not as a savior, but as a reckoning. I carry the fire now. Not as destruction, but as memory. And whatever fate has planned for me next—whatever gods or monsters dare come for me— I am ready. This is a new game. And I know how to play it. So let them come. Let them try to bury me again. I’ve already risen once. And now— I know exactly who I am.