It was a frigid evening, the one that left dogs shivering in the unforgiving weather. The wind blew vigorously against the windows of the old Italian hotel, making them quiver as if they themselves were suffering from the freezing conditions. Sylvia gazed at the leaves scattering about as she took another sip from her coffee. She sat in her room, fidgeting with the spoon with a dreamy look in her eyes. What else was there to do but to dream while her life was turning into a nightmare?

She had fled all the way to Italy, just to get away from the man she loved, lest their passion for each other tear their hearts to pieces. It was a terrible feeling not being with him. His presence was like a drug that kept her sane and satiated, and his absence was the worst withdrawal a person could endure. She still remembered the days when they could be together, without fearing the consequences, but those days were now long gone.

The woman hoped she would never see him again, that he would never find her again, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that her persistence was futile.

And then like an omen, she saw a familiar silhouette perusing outside. It was him. She dropped her drink at once, the black liquid and porcelain pieces splashing against the wooden floor. It left a stain on her expensive nightgown, but she couldn’t care less, leaping towards the hanger to grab her coat and make her escape as soon as possible.

She dashed down the corridor, the echoes of her name from her lover’s mouth sending chills down her spine. They were beckoning her, filling her with temptation and mind-numbing desire. Her legs grew weak, tears streamed down her face, for she knew she could run no longer. The pain that she felt without him was stronger than what she knew was coming for her had she accepted his embrace.

“Why?” She cried. “Why did you come here, Theodor? You know we can’t be together or else…”

“Hush, my darling. My love for you is stronger than any curse that lies in our path. Let us be one.”

“No. I can’t. We shouldn’t, no matter how hard it is, we should be apart. That’s the best thing for both of us.”

“Do you truly believe that?” Theodor asked, and his lover sealed his lips with a kiss.

They returned to her room, engulfed in each other’s arms, craving each touch, each stroke, each movement that made them mad with ecstasy. It was a dance of pure passion, one that was soon going to be washed with regret. Their bodies acted on their own accord as slaves to one’s desire. Their kiss deepened, and so did their sorrow.

The man trailed his lips upon her neck, savoring the delicate nature of her skin. It wasn’t enough, he needed more. His teeth drove deep into her nape, sinking, carving, tearing. He ripped a chunk of her flesh, and she retaliated by ripping flesh off his shoulder. Her nails clawed into his chest, his ribs, his abdomen. Blood soaked their tattered clothes, ripped apart savagely in the moment of unimaginable, uncontrollable love.

They feasted upon each other. It was their curse, their punishment for daring to cross paths with that witch. The night wouldn’t end until they consumed each other completely, until there was nothing left but hair and bone.

Then morning came. They woke up naked next to each other in anguish, their bodies whole again, aching from the depravity they were forced to enact on one another. Sylvia put on a new set of clothes and fled the room, her mind begging for the mercy of forgetfulness. She exited without saying a word, and soon, Theodor did the same.

In the following days, one would flee the country, while the other would wrestle with the unfathomable urge to seek the other. Inevitably, they would find each other, tear at each other, feed, and then wake up. And so the cycle continued.