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Rated: E · Short Story · Gothic · #1286474
I wrote this for AS English Literature.
            He stood leaning against the city wall, an ivory man draped in a black velvet coat which hovered just above the ground. Ripples of red lace cascading down his chest, and his raven locks over his curved shoulders. His eyes closed, listening. A soldiers footsteps on the wall above, the wind rustling the leaves of a nearby tree…

            He opened his eyes.

            There. That echoing sound resonating throughout his entire being, calling, mocking him. He could see her strolling across the cobbled courtyard, watched as she was swallowed up by the mist, and then he gave chase, limbs quivering as he followed her into the silky night.

 

            It had been five nights before. The night that he, Dremrae, had died. He was in his carriage, meandering through the city streets to the Inn where he planned to spend his time in the city. He never made it. The carriage jolted to a stop.

            "Driver, why have we stopped?" he enquired.

            No reply.

            Fearing highwaymen, he withdrew a dagger from the generous folds of his heavy woollen coat. The carriage door opened. No-one there. He sighed and relaxed into the seat, its supple leather accommodating perfectly his shape…

            He saw her then, out of the corner of his eye, sat in the far corner of the carriage. She was clad in a long shimmering dress of green silk, her face a vision of perfection, beauty.

            "Sleep now," The words poured from her blood-red lips like intoxicating wine, and he knew no more.

 

            He caught a fleeting glimpse of her step into a passage between two buildings.

            The Lust. Unbearable now. He caught up to her with unnatural speed, winding through the streets, stone walls blurred to a paste by his sides, the tiny droplets that made up the mist tore at him, stung his eyes, only one thing in focus, her heart pounding in his ears, clawing at all his senses.

            And then he had her, tearing at her creamy neck, goring his way into her jugular with his razor sharp fangs, into ecstasy.

            She flowed into him entirely, her memories washing through him, wave upon wave, like a sea under the dawn he would never again witness. Fleeting glimpses into her life, and then gone, lost forever.

            Dizziness. They fell to the floor.

 

            Darkness. He felt all around him. Stone walls. Fear. He was imprisoned in a stone sarcophagus. He pushed upwards with all his strength, throwing the solid stone lid across the room. He lay there, puzzled. Shocked.

            He remembered the last thing he saw, the woman in the carriage with him, her soft kiss upon his neck…

            He sat up, looked around. He was in an exquisitely decorated room. Oil lamps gave the walls a soft glow. The woman sat in a luxurious velvet seat in the corner of the room, a smile playing on her lips like a small child.

            "Welcome to darkness, my love," she smiled, revealing her small fangs.

            "What have you done to me? Why am I here?" he asked, an expression of horror and puzzlement on his face.

            "Do not be afraid; you have been reborn, remade; I have given you the gift of immortality! Ah, I see you wonder how… Then I shall tell you. Eons in the past there were two, and two children were born of them. They were Cain and Abel. The story goes that Cain killed Abel and was cursed. This is not entirely true however. Abel was jealous of Cain. Cain succeeded at everything he did, but Abel merely failed. His jealousy grew until he could not bear it any longer, and he killed Cain, his brother, but that is not the end of the story.

            "A miracle occurred! Cain rose from the dead, gifted, no doubt by some higher being, with life enough to have his vengeance upon Abel before once again falling into death. Indeed, he had his vengeance, but he did not die as should have happened. As he dealt the final blow to his brother, he slipped and fell! A stray droplet of his brother's blood landed upon his tongue, and transformed him entirely. From then on he was a Vampire, the very first, cursed to prey upon the blood of man, shunned by the light, having to hide in the darkest holes during the day to avoid the obliterating rays of the sun.

            "And that is how It began. That is how we came to be. As to the question of why you are here, you are here because I wanted you."

She taught him how to hunt; to distinguish between strong and weak blood by merely listening to a victims heart. She showed him the places where he could hide, sleep during the day. She taught him everything she knew about their kind. She disappeared a week later, without notice, without a trace. He knew there must have been a reason for her leaving like that; she had told him that she loved him…

 

He stood himself after his careless fall, his head spinning. He had relished the moment too much. It is fine to relish it, he told himself, feel the blood caress your body like fine velvet, smooth and soft, it is only natural that such pleasure is felt, but to go that far, to do that… it is not acceptable, it's dangerous.

He looked down. So sweet, the pale lady, looking as if she is merely sleeping. He turned away and wandered off, engulfed by the mist, embraced by the virgin night.
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