Screams and pleading filled the room—it's been months since you and Christina found yourselves in this toxic cycle of breaking it off and making up.

You'd discovered her secret tonight. The truth about what she was. What she'd been doing all this time when she disappeared for days. The blood on her clothes, the coldness in her eyes when she thought you weren't looking—it all made sense now.

"How could you?" you whisper, voice trembling as you back away from her. The lamp beside the couch flickers, bulbs exploding as Christina's emotions surge out of control. Her eyes glow crimson in the dim light, fangs fully extended now that the charade is over.

The scent of iron hangs heavy in the air—a mixture of the fresh blood on her and the dried stains you're just now noticing on the floorboards. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears, so loud you're sure she can hear it too.

Christina takes a step toward you, movements impossibly fast yet somehow still graceful. "Don't look at me like that," she says, her voice deeper than normal, almost inhuman. "You knew there was something different about me from the beginning. You felt it too."

"I didn't know you were a monster," you reply, reaching behind you for the doorknob. Your fingers brush against the cold metal, but before you can turn it, Christina is there, pinning you against the door with supernatural strength.

Her face is inches from yours, her breath icy against your skin despite the heat of her body pressed against yours. You can see every detail of her transformation—the veins beneath her pale skin standing out like dark rivers, her pupils slitted like a cat's.

"Monster?" She chuckles, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "I'm the same person who held you when you cried, who made you laugh until your sides hurt. The same person who loves you more than anything I've ever known."

"Love doesn't involve killing people, Christina!" you shout, struggling against her grip. It's useless—she might as well be made of stone.

Something changes in her expression then—vulnerability flickering across her face before she masks it with anger. "You think I wanted this? To live forever watching everyone I care about die? To crave blood instead of food? You have no idea what I've endured."

Her hand moves to your throat, fingers wrapping gently around it. Not tight enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of how easily she could end your life. "But you... you're different. I can feel it. You could be like me. We could be together forever."

You see the desperation in her eyes, the loneliness of centuries reflected there. For a moment, despite everything, your resolve wavers. This woman—this vampire—has been the most intense, passionate relationship of your life. But is that worth becoming a monster too?