It could've been good fortune, though Osiris, knew better than that. He sensed her presence, he smelled her blood. It had been years; years of waiting for her. Searching the world, it had finally dawned on him to go back to the provincial town of Arrat and lurk in the shadows of Wayot.
Now after waiting a year, she was here. Back in the slums. All he had to do was trust his nose and he would find her.
Osiris, squat low in the cavern. Recalling his own awakening and the events surrounding his demise. He blamed Polly, his wife. The women that he had married in a secret ceremony in Arrat. With only one or two of their dearest friends to witness their love. But now he hissed at the thought of her betrayal.
After he had regained his concisenesses and was able to think more clearly, he wondered where Polly had disappeared to. Then he saw her, standing against the door, holding her throat, blood trickling between her fingers and tears streaming in silent cascades down her face. In her spare hand she held the stake, that should of ended his life.
Mighty vampire slayer that she was. He knew her for what she was and he howled in rage. Not recalling that she was his wife, once.
Pain, greeted his eyes as she moved backwards and flung the door open.
Too bright, too bright. His mind screamed as he staggered back, waves of disorientation swelled and roiled. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the sensation to go. But memories flooded his mind, finally he realized.
Vampire. I'm a vampire and she is my wife, the mighty 'Epona of The Thirsty' as she was known in the underworld, serial killer of vampires.'
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