Khali

Damnation; the state of being condemned

to eternal punishment in hell.

So, you say you go to church every Sunday. You read all the Bible stories when you were a kid. You know all about the damned, their punishment, and hell. While you live you have a choice, the good road or the bad road and we all know which road leads you to which destination. You wrap yourself warmly around the promises made to you that he who seeketh me shall not suffer but find eternal life.

Are you damned or are you saved?

Only in the quiet moment after your last breath will you truly know, but you're confident. How secure are you in your deathâ¦. Or the moment after your death?

Imagine now if your judgment came before your death, in your life, interrupting your meager existence.

I know nothing of judgment or promises, nor do I have knowledge of quiet moments, not even in death. Because I don't die, the ones here with me don't die. We are the damned and hell isn't as far away as you might think.

Khali

I could see her. She could not see me. Plain and fragile, even for a human, seemingly of little influence or power within her world.

I scoffed. Her status was nothing to me. The choice had been made who would be the one to seek her out. It was a daunting task. One that I had no inclination to explore any further than the specific requests that had been made of me. Find her, bring her to me, do not kill her. He'd asked nicely so I hadn't killed him in return.

"On your command, Master." One of the other's snarled, bearing his fangs for all to see.

I snarled. Hideous creature.

Vayne insisted their hand in the mission. She was important to him. I had no need of them. Just as the humans they were insignificant to me, less even, with their soulless, lust driven, depraved existence. They made the air foul around their cold bodies. I was not one of them. I controlled the lust whereas they could not.

I crawled from grave just as any vampire might have according to the humans. I gathered all knowledge of myself from the literary geniuses of the world- screenplays and such.

Human, I scoffed to myself. My first mistake was relying on the human I'd once been.

I learned the truth. The romance of it all was not there. Waking up, finding yourself locked within a satin lined box, wearing your Sunday best, as the humans would say, with your arms crossed innocently across your chest should bring forth enough panic to stop your heart permanently. I assume it would, for a human.

When you awake a ravenous animal starving for blood, you can see only red. Yes, love exists in the body of a vampire. It was the love for the warmth of blood on your tongue, sliding down your throat. It's our atonement for the soulless existence we're doomed to endure and the only thing that drives a vampire.

The shadows expanded from their coils, emerging into the moonlight ready to strike on my command. My lips curled up against my fangs slicing into the flesh releasing the bitter, flat taste of watery blood, blood without life. The crowd below us was full of sweet velvety life. I licked the remains from my teeth as the lacerations healed at once.

Invariably, the creatures around me were not immune to my power. Even now as the shadows drifted forward their heightened senses did not alert them to the impending danger. Only I could gaze into the shadows and command them.

My chest lifted and fell. Disappointment was not a welcome affliction. Nonetheless, Vayne would be terribly disappointment and I rather enjoyed his favor, though I did not crave nor require it.

The shadows shivered and returned to the trees. My attention returned to the girl. It was time.

"Where I go, do not follow." My command was firm and would be obeyed. These creatures, although they were mere animals, treasured their hollow bodies and would choose not to live without them.