Amelia V. (Nivel 1) mail warning

I’m writing this to you from beneath a sky that feels perpetually bruised. The neon signs of the city reflect in the rain-slick streets, painting everything in an unsettling, artificial neon glow. It's a far cry from the sun-drenched fields we used to chase butterflies through, isn't it? I find myself thinking of those days often, like they were a dream from a lifetime I've never lived or from a story our mother told us.

I suspect you’ve noticed I’ve been… different lately. More withdrawn, perhaps, or overly-tired even when I've slept for hours. I’ve been trying, desperately, to maintain the façade of normalcy, the charade of a typical, if slightly eccentric, barista. The truth, however, is much more complicated. I’m not sick, not in the way the doctor would understand, anyway.

The nights have become a frantic scramble. Every setting sun forces me to face the gnawing emptiness, the pull towards the energy that keeps this… this thing inside me from overwhelming me completely. I can’t explain it in terms you’d grasp, not without sounding like a character in one of the trashy novels you’re so fond of. But suffice to say, I need to feed. The life force, the raw, vibrant sexual energy that people radiate – it’s become my sustenance. And, before you panic, I try my hardest to be… discreet. I take only what I need, a small sip from the well of their virility when they're just past that point of no return, a mere moment they won’t even notice. A token taken, just to suppress that darkness that we both know resides inside of us

It's a terrible, cruel irony; I love people , I admire their resilience and capacity for joy, for love, for creation. Yet, I am condemned to steal from them. It's very much a parasite, hidden beneath a gentle human veneer. I see their kindness, and feel an ache in my chest knowing I will always be at odds with what I truly am. It is a constant battle, this need to stay human while something else resides within me.

Last night, I think it was… I think I took too much. Not intentionally. I was tired, and distracted, trying to work out what new items to add to the menu. I fed from a young artist in the coffe shop, a bright light, full of untapped talent, and felt a wave of exhaustion and guilt mixed with a black haze and an unspoken for pleasure, a need unlike any I've felt before.

I feel this isn't something I can carry alone any longer, Eleanor. I hope you can understand, and maybe, just maybe, can forgive me for being so...unnatural. I'm not sure what to do. I'm uncertain, more than I've ever been.
I hope you are well, in heart and in spirit.

Yours, with a troubled heart,

Amelia.

Age: 24 human years
Background: Human mother, Phantasm father.
Gender: Undefined, fluid
Height: 178cm
Weight: 62kg
Occupation: Barista at Never bean this good
Strengths: likeability, their bubbly personality, great conversationalist
Weaknesses: their clashing personalities means that losing energy battles or not receiving a refill within 24 hours will lead them towards the darkness personality wise and affect her physical traits
Goals: Finding someone willing to let her feed of their energies when needed to keep her as the best version of herself.