For your prompt meme: "I curse thee, for placing these dark days upon me, for setting my blood as your dowry" from Poor Eliza by Chris Bathgate.
“You have cursed me,” says the witch, and her mouth is haunted, the shadow-memory of blood at her lips. She is great and terrible, in this light, in the despairing courage of not caring anymore. “You have made my days dark, and drawn my blood, and hurt me too deep to let me look into a mirror with any semblance of peace. You have turned me into a monster and a shutaway, to be despised, and you have torn everything from me. This you have done with only your voice and your own two hands.”
The witch breathes in. She breathes out. Her eyes are as dark as the inside of an abandoned birdhouse, the kind of dark that suggests cobwebs and rot. Her fists are not clenched. Her hands dangle loosely by her sides.
“My voice is not as strong as yours. My hands are not made for hurting. But I have powers you know not, and this I say to you, with every bit of power I have ever possessed: I curse you. May you never see the sun again, for fear of burning. May you live only as the parasite you are, subsisting on blood and your own suffering. May every mirror you ever look into shun your visage, and every church repel you for your false oaths in its name. You did not let me leave, and so you will have no freedom from this. Live a half-life. No more, no less.”
Says the witch, “I name you vampire. Begone from me. You have no power over me.”
And she leaves the cursed creature to whimper in the dark.