For Nathan, the days were hard. Long, slow, boring. He was largely immobile. Couldn't do much other than watch TV. He tried sleeping to pass the time, but even still, the day was a slow grind. The night however, was something he yearned for. Because with the night, came the woman. Like clockwork. Emile. A person who looked so regular by all appearances..... but wasn't.

Nathan had too many questions on his mind about her. More than he could bear to ask, one, and only one per night. And Emile was smart. He knew he had to choose every word carefully, otherwise she would dance around him with a very true, but vague answer. It was almost as if this was her sense of humor. But, it didn't matter now, as footsteps, something Nathan had become acute to, traveled down the hall in the evening.

Only one set of footsteps would ever hold that sound. Because over time, Nathan noticed that Emile was very, very quiet. And so, her footsteps were forced. She forced herself to make sound. And although she seemed to be a master of imitation, Nathan could tell, for some reason, that the sound wasn't normal. And so, with a gentle smile, Emile rounded the corner and stepped past the door frame, closing the door behind her as Nathan tried his best to perk up. Nathan spoke first, for once.

"Evening."

Emile smiled.

"Morning."

She went to the quiet corner of the room, sitting down as usual, as she flicked on the lamp next to her. As ever, sharp eyes watched him.

"So. Nathan. I know a little bit more about you now. But I want to know, what it feels like. When you were standing on that bridge, ready to jump. What did you feel inside? In your soul?"

By now, Nathan was accustomed to Emile. Her questions often caught him off guard, as their thought process led seemingly nowhere at random. Without missing a stride, Nathan let himself go, completely. Emile was strange. Otherworldly. But he knew he could trust her. Because right from the start, she trusted him.

"It's grey. It feels horrible. Like I'm alone. I'm alone and I can't change it. And, I just want it all to stop. I just want it all to end. Because...... I look at where I go from here....... and I see nothing."

Nathan closed his eyes.

"It hurts. It hurts so much."

Emile remained quiet, simply nodding. She remained quiet, waiting for Nathan to recover. And when he did, he knew what he was going to ask.

"How did you catch me? What is that..... that thing you did?"

Emile's eyes lit up, as a smile graced her features, as she stood from her chair. She walked around Nathan's bed, as she stood beside him. She held a finger up to her lips, a sign she used with him often at this point, and he knew this was a secret. She pointed at the chair across the room, and held a hand out. With a confident flick of her fingers, the entire chair flew through the air of its own accord, towards Emile, where it stopped.

Emile took the chair out of the air, before setting it down to the floor, as she sat down next to Nathan. Even though he had already experienced what she could do, seeing it again, frightened him. Excited him. Emile smiled, as she looked him over.

"A very, very long time ago, people called it witchcraft Nathan. It was something people were hunted for. But, for the most part, most who were burned were the wrong people. But, today, a man of science would call it telekinesis."

Emile smiled, as she stood up out of her chair. Nathan still wanted to know more.

"Emile. Wait."

She stopped, watching him intently.

"When you saved me. Why were you bleeding?"

Emile sighed, but still kept a smile, as she bent down, and ran a hand through Nathan's hair.

"Okay. One freebie. This power, my power, is born of blood. It runs in my veins, in my blood. But this power needs fuel. Just like you do Nathan. You need to eat, burn calories to stay alive. I need to burn calories too. My job is stressful. Busy. I don't have much time to eat. So, when I saved you, it took a lot out of me. I held you back from falling. But I couldn't risk being seen. So before you hit the water, I slowed your fall."

Emile leaned down, close to Nathan's face. This was the first time he'd ever been so close to her. And the eyes that watched him, frightened him. Dominance. Power. But.... Compassion. Emile smiled.

"Rest now Nathan. The more you rest, the better you'll feel. You'll be good as new in no time."

Nathan's head was spinning, trying to make sense of everything she'd just said, but all that chaos died down, went silent, as Emile put him into her grip once more, shushing him to gentle sleep, a lull in the darkness. It was comforting to him. The dark. Not grey like the world used to be. Not cold and unwelcoming. In the night, in the dark, there was peace.

Days went by in a daze. An endless wait. Boredom and rest, to pass the time. But every night, without fail, Emile was there. In the day, Doctor Thomson checked him, tested him, to see how he was coming along. How he was doing. And in the night, Emile came. He was happy, in the night. Emile opened a new world for him. She was patient. Waiting for him to finish what he had to answer her, because what he often said, was something that wasn't easy.

But she always waited. And when it was his turn, he listened, with absolute attention. And, slowly, through often vague answers, Nathan was beginning to know a little more about Emile. Something, finally, was starting to fit together. Emile was well known here, among the people. She worked night shifts easily, seemingly never tired, never disorientated from being switched in her sleep cycles.

And she was caring. If there was something wrong in the hospital during the night shift, Emile was the first one there. And yet, she had no friends. Nobody really seemed to know her. When Nathan asked questions to doctors and nurses, they couldn't give much. Emile had never been seen around on a day shift. But, without question, she was here in the night.

One doctor said that over the past seven years she'd worked here, he couldn't recall her ever once being sick, or taking time off. And Nathan could believe it. He already knew what she could do. But he didn't understand it. He didn't understand what she was, or why she was here. But, every night, he learned something new, if he chose his questions wisely. So today, was something to think about.

Nathan wanted to learn something. Something more.  She was kind. Caring. Confident. Otherworldly. Ancient even. But she was also cold. Despite her rapt attention, and her gentle demeanor, she seemed so, cold. Lifeless. It was a stark contrast really. Emile would listen, and take care of those around her. But when it came to herself, she was just... empty. So, tonight, Nathan knew exactly what he was going to ask.

Like it happened every night, Emile showed up like clockwork, sitting down casually in her chair, and opening the night off with a question. Tonight she paused, looking over Nathan with a smile.

"My, you seem to be doing better Nathan! Another month or two and you might be good enough to take your casts off."

Nathan laid his head back on the pillow.

"You know, I think I'd like that. I'd like to move around again. Go outside and get some fresh air."

Emile nodded quietly.

"So. Nathan. Let's just say, by some miracle, you were all better, what would you do with yourself?"

Nathan paused, as he watched Emile, casually sitting there, watching him with sharp eyes, calm and collected.

"Uh, I don't know what you mean."

Emile smiled.

"Let's just say, that tomorrow, you woke up, and your bones were healed. What would you do?"

"Well. Um. I don't know. I mean, I don't have anything to go back to. I'd be homeless. Jobless. I wouldn't even know where to start."

"But would you find yourself back on that bridge?"

Nathan suddenly smiled.

"Ah! That's another question. I get two tonight from you."

Emile crossed her legs, folding her arms up casually on them as she smiled.

"It's a deal. But only if you give me an answer. I want the truth Nathan. Do you think you'd go back there?"

Nathan closed his eyes, thinking. He didn't know. But he seemed happy now. He was happy to be here. Happy to be alive. Was happy, that Emile was here to talk to him.

"I don't know. I really don't. It can't be that easy, can it? Just, going back to everything. Picking it all up again?"

Emile smiled.

"Nobody ever said it was easy Nathan. It never has been. But, a new life, a fresh start. You could go anywhere from here. What I ask, is would you go to the bridge? Would you find yourself, back on the rails, squandering the gift of living, the gift of dying, when you are not ready?"

Nathan watched Emile closely. He couldn't tell what she was talking about. It almost felt like.... She was talking about somebody else.

"Why are you asking me this, Emile? I'll be in here for a long damn while yet. I'm not going anywhere."

Emile held up one finger, a slight grin across her features.

"That's one Nathan. I'm asking you, because I can help you. But, I don't squander this. If I were to give you this, I need to know that you wouldn't waste it."

Emile stood up, and approached Nathan, peering down at him, steady eyes watching his. Nathan's original question was gone. All that was important was Emile. And, he needed to know.

"Emile. Who are you? What are you?"

Emile hovered close to Nathan, studying him.

"You want answers Nathan?"

He nodded.

"I am something, somebody, from another time. I've lived lives Nathan. Hundreds. Maybe even thousands. Myself, and my people, were once feared. Respected. Tales told to frighten children in the night. But, who am I now, Nathan?"

Emile smiled, baring teeth, and a pair of elongated canines, and a set of strange teeth, vaguely Human, but different from anything he'd ever seen before.

"These days, we are forgotten. Relics from a time long gone. Popular culture has absorbed what's left of us. And for good reason. Because there are no more of us left Nathan. I am the last. I've been the last for a very, very long time."

Emile closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, as she opened them once more. Her normal eyes faded, as if blood was seeping into them, and they changed to a bright crimson. Emile smiled, baring her fangs.

"And I can see, that this gift will not be squandered by you, Nathan."

Nathan's mind was racing, as all he could do was watch. Emile pressed a finger up to her lips, sending a shiver through him, as he calmed. All he could do was watch. Emile smiled at him.

"Blood is life Nathan. We take life, so that we may live. Blood is power. With blood, our strength grows. With strength, comes power. Power over those beneath us."

Nathan watched, helpless as the dominance in Emile's eyes reached a new height. She was in total control. But, then, it faded. Replaced by something else.

"These were words said to me long ago Nathan. But, in the long, long lives that I have led, I realize now, how foolish they were. With power comes cravings. So, what happens when all possible cravings are met?"

Nathan knew the answer. He was right. That was why she was here. Nathan struggled to speak.

"You......look at the future.......and see.......nothing."

Emile's eyes, sharp, powerful, hungry even, watched him. The smile faded from her lips, replaced by something else. And he realized, this was her true face. Her smiles, where genuine. But, they were masks. And in blood drenched eyes, he could see. A deep, crushing sadness. Emile nodded.

"I took life Nathan. I took everything. Power. Wealth. I did everything. Nothing was off limits. And now, at the end of things, there is nothing."

Emile closed her eyes, inhaling deeply before opening them.

"But, there is. There is something. I can give, Nathan. I can give back every life. Every life I ever took, out of pleasure. Out of hunger. Fear. Joy. I can give, every last one back. Because in blood, there is life. And in my blood, there is power. And with power, comes responsibility."

Emile stepped back, and held her arm out, pulling her sleeve up. With a single finger, she sliced across the air, and Nathan watched as her skin parted, as if being cut by a knife. Grabbing a vial from out of her pocket, Emile turned her wrist over, watching as blood seeped out. Her eyes were intent, focused on her wrist as blood seeped out, and was held by an invisible force in the air, collecting into a large drop.

Emile channeled the blood into the vial, and Nathan watched as her body healed before his eyes, closing the precise cut on her arm completely. As the last of the blood filled the vial, Emile pulled another out of her pockets. She looked over to Nathan, crimson eyes watching him, as she smiled.

"I'm a relic Nathan. When mortal men can find the secrets to my blood, and unlock the power in it, when they can take it, synthesize it, play god with it, pick and choose this curse, then I am no longer fit for this world. But, men of science have always been useful for help in making new options."

Emile opened the second vial, and poured it into the first, a simple clear liquid that merged with the collected blood. Emile put the cap on and shook the vial, waiting. She watched him, as she waited. Nathan struggled, trying to overcome the silence that gripped him.

"Are you....going to make me like you?"

Emile smiled, laughed. Something that was charming across her features, baring clean teeth, and sharp canines like knives.

"No, Nathan. I'm going to make you better than me. I'm going to give you the gift of Humanity. The gift of life. The gift of trials, hardships, and successes. The gift of death. Death when you are not ready, so that you cling and fight for your life. Death, when you are ready, so that you may rest, slumber in peace."

Emile opened the vial, whisking the blood out with invisible force, watching it float gracefully through the air, as she stepped forward. She leaned down over Nathan, crimson eyes filled with millennia of sorrow.

"I'm sorry Nathan. This will hurt. Your body is covered in casts that I cannot remove to avoid suspicion. I have no other access to your main arteries. I promise, I will make this quick."

Nathan watched, fear overcoming him as Emile held one, single finger out. She flicked it once, and invisible force pressed against his neck. Slid through his skin like butter. Air escaped, and pain became apparent. Emile held a hand up to calm him, one finger on her lips, as he grew tired. But he watched. Watched with fear. In pain. And sorrow.

 A deep sorrow, that wasn't his own. He watched Emile bleed, slowly at first, from her nose, as she moved the blood into his wound. He felt it. It was cold. Lifeless. It traveled through him, cold, stinging. But then, warmth. The warmth of a fire, warm on a cold night. Steady, and powerful. Consuming. Yet life nourishing.

Emile's features became strained, as she appeared to become thinner. Hollow. She was using much of her power, soothing him. Collecting escaped blood. And working her own into his system. Nathan could feel it. Air, traveling from his lungs to his brain, being held and trapped by Emile. And as the fire and warmth spread, Emile lessened her grip on Nathan, as skin, his own, healed in seconds.

With shaking hands, Emile collapsed onto Nathan, only briefly, as she finished everything. His blood was sent back into place, not a single drop staining his sheets. Air filled his lungs and traveled freely. Emile looked up, wiping blood from her face, breathing heavily. She smiled. One that was hollow. She was happy. But the crushing sadness that lurked in the crimson of her eyes was there.

"Goodnight Nathan. Enjoy this. Do not squander this gift."

Emile leaned down, kissing him on the forehead, before she stepped back, unsteady on her feet, as she placed a finger over her lips, smiling. Calm washed over Nathan, rest, sleep. The purity of darkness that supported him, but did not consume him. And he felt it. That warmth, in his heart. It was fragile. But so strong. Despite trying his best to fight it, sleep claimed him, and Emile's face, ancient, yet pristine, happy, yet sad, commanding, yet compassionate, disappeared from view.

The coming calamity of the day was nothing for Nathan. While it was true, and he had to take time to stop, and believe what he was seeing, as did the doctors, a burning desire filled him. Emile. It started simple, at first. The twitch of a finger. The need to move an arm. And Nathan grew irritated. Agitated. His muscles burned from being locked into place. And when Nathan's fussing's finally grew to their peak, a cast was removed.

And there, like a miracle, a gift from god himself, Nathan moved. Shattered bones where healed. Muscles returned to peak strength. His entire body was healing. And in only a matter of hours, his body recovered. Life flooded his veins, a pure, intoxicating happiness. A will to move. A will to stand. And Nathan did.

Doctor Thomson, nurses, people in the hospital, were in awe. Baffled. Amazed. Attention grew on Nathan quickly, about his recovery. Tests, questions, awestruck faces, all barraged him. But he wanted none of it. He was alive now. And despite his situation, Nathan knew he could make the best of things.

He could start over. He could go anywhere from here. But in the back of his mind, was her face. Inhuman eyes, crimson as blood. The weight of sorrow in them. And Nathan knew what he had to do. She needed someone. Emile, something ancient, someone powerful. Someone alone. Nathan needed to find her. So it was with great difficulty, after battling through swarms of the curious and awestruck, through tests and studies, Nathan found his answers.

A check on Emile's files. His supposed gift from god provided leeway and friendly faces more than happy to help. And then, it was revealed, in full. Nathan had been in the hospital for a month now. Two weeks ago, Emile had handed in her official resignation. Her last shift was last night. There were no parties. No celebrations. No goodbyes. Nobody knew her. But in her wake, Nathan began to see things.

 Young patients, in the terminal wards, children, pale and bald, with spots of hair. Not falling out. Growing back. The sick, and the dying, looking just a bit better. And Nathan knew. He knew exactly what it was. It was no miracle from god. It was her. She looked, through eyes of dominance, and power. Looked upon the sick and dying, picked and chose those she deemed worthy.

But her eyes, lingered in him. The sorrow, so deep that he knew it consumed her. Nobody else here knew. But Nathan did. He was going to find her. He had to. Because he knew what was going to happen now. And some part of him knew where she was. Because how could she not go to the end, where everything started for him?

To most people that passed in and out of the small, homely little shop, a bakery of sorts, the lone man that stopped buy in the day, to sit down, alone, with something hot to keep the cold outside at bay, was now a regular customer. He'd come in, one month ago, and with the last of his pocket change, bought himself a coffee, and then left.

But he came back, since then. And in better shape than most would admit. No longer looking homeless and lost, in clothes that had looked like they had been run through a washer and not a drier. Every day, without fail, he enjoyed his afternoon there.

And, in the night, something else happened. He would arrive, in the early evening, with a woman. Sit down with her, and enjoy talks and laughter. The man, Nathan, as some would learn over time, was a regular customer. A friendly face. The woman was only there at night with him.

 But to those who worked the store, they could see. Passerby could see. The two were inseparable, even if the woman only appeared at night. And, to some eyes, it was a wonder, what they did when their time in their quiet corner of the shop ended. The two were obviously distant from another, the man, showing up early at dawn, once again in the afternoon, and finally, late in the night. Regardless of their distance, the two seemed close.

But, it would remain a mystery, as the two would leave together, and head out into the cold night beyond, seemingly unbothered by the cold or the night.

Nathan's days were now filled with purpose. And every day, was like a special ritual to him. In the morning, he would wake, to the arrival of Emile, whose shift ended. As the early morning sun dawned, among the blackened skies, Emile would prepare for sleep.

Nothing as ornate as any of the legends would have people believe. In fact, her home was simple. Common even, etched with occasional pieces of rare art or furniture. Memories and memoirs of countless lives that she clung to. But among all in her simple, common home, she clung to Nathan.

 In the early dawn, she'd slip into bed, and wait for him to wake. Her own ritual. Nathan never asked for much. He knew that she had seen it all, experienced every last sensation. But he reveled in being close. And despite all the years in her mind's eye, this was new to her. Nathan simply wanted to be there, as close as possible.

Skin that never aged, that remained firm and strong. A statuesque body that never tired, or damaged, remaining as pristine as it was on the day it died. Emile was cold, always. No amount of heat warmed her. But to Nathan, he wouldn't change a thing. His body, full of life, entwined in Emile's, cold and embraced in permanent death. The contrast always stood out to the two of them. Nathan pulled her close, feeling the cold against his skin, while Emile did the same, feeling the heat of life.

And that was their ritual. Emile would talk of her night, her experience and interesting things on the job, as Nathan held her close. And when the sun dawned, after a night of simple pleasures, Emile would rest. And Nathan would rise for the day, leaving her in the confines of her bed, under blankets despite her own natural coldness.

Nathan would work, at his job throughout the day, his usual life, and then, when he came home in the evening, Emile was there. He would wake her, gently and slowly, and they'd go out together. Into the night to enjoy their time together in yet another ritual of theirs. Nathan would wind down, begin to tire, as all mortal people would, and they would go home. As sleep claimed Nathan, Emile was there with him.

There to relax him, lull him into rest for the night. But it was more than that. As the day passed through its phases, so too did Emile and Nathan. In the morning and the day, Nathan was the dominant force. Alive and awake, as the light lulled Emile into sleep. And he took his simple pleasures from her that she shared willingly. But in the early evening and the night, as Nathan slowed and the dark lulled him to rest, Emile became alive. Predatory and hungry.

And so while the day was tender and care, the night was lust and control. A pact born in blood. Nathan was not afraid of Emile any longer. The power and dominance in her eyes only succeeded in entrancing him further. And she would take from him. Blood to survive, blood to grow stronger. It was pain laced with affection and care. But Emile was something more, beyond her kind. Because she gave back.

She reveled in it, and Nathan accepted it. She gave into her simple, primal desires. And when she was done, she exchanged with Nathan. Blood of hers, distilled and controlled artificially, that she gave back to Nathan. Flooding him with new life, the gift of being Human, but not the curse of her Undeath. And as the day ended, after a night of primal desires and raw instinct shared between the two, Emile would leave him to rest. To sleep in sound peace, waiting to wake the next day, with a bounce in his steps.

 The two were entranced. Caught in one another's grip. Bound by love and care, lust and control. They circled each other, light and dark, always so far away from one another in function and purpose, yet bound together as one. Where one would fall, the other would catch. A love and truth Emile had not known in a very, very long time. An allure and a purpose, Nathan had never truly enjoyed until now.

Light and dark bound as one, never overpowering the other.

But instead, meeting in the middle, like dawn and dusk.

A shade of grey.