Vampire Short Story [slightly graphic]

[Angelicious]

After reading Twilight, I needed a real vampire.... So instead of looking for a good vampire book, I wrote up my own.

Warning: There is death. There is blood. There is gore. This is a vampire short story written for the sole intent of having a real vampire, not actually writing a story... So yah. If you dislike that kind of thing, don't read on. xD Anyway, I just wanted to get some people's opinion on it. Please be honest. Whatever it is, I can take it. ^^ (Also, view point changes frequently.)

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A heavy fog covered the land, dimming both the stars and the nearly-full moon. The sun’s last stretches of pink were slowly giving way to the more solid blackness of night; darkness reigned in more than one sense that night.

His pace quickened as the path changed from gravel to dirt underneath his leather boots. His boots left no prints in the dirt. An eerily calm silence surrounded him. Diurnal animals had just gone off to sleep and those who were nocturnal were still asleep. He was alone.

His gray eyes glinted in the darkness as he approached the single farmhouse at the end of the path. They narrowed slightly as he walked up the steps leading to the door. He knocked once, sending a single echo throughout the home.

The old woman strained to get off of her couch when she heard the person at the door. She slowly approached the door, admiring the cross hanging from it with pride, only vaguely wondering who would be visiting her at that hour. She had no real friends and her family wasn’t didn't even qualify as functional; they never came over. They had no reason to do so in the first place. They weren’t the people who visited you randomly just to spend time with you. They were the people who visited people when they needed money, and she had none.

“Can I help you?” The question was accidentally phrased before she had pulled the door open, but having the enhanced senses that accompanied being the undead made it irrelevant.

“Actually, yes, I’d like to think you can.” He flashed a charming smile at her, keeping his lips in check; after four and a half centuries, it was almost second nature. Even he slipped up occasionally, though. This would be an okay time to reveal it too early – if she screamed, there would be no one to hear. Even if someone did, who really cared about the religious nut, the social recluse, Arianne Forgeman? No one. He did his research well, after all.

“Oh… And, how is that?” She asked, sounding skeptical. No one had ever needed her help since… Since… She couldn't even remember when the last time was. And yet, this man she’d never seen before suddenly needed her help? Not to mention at eleven o’clock at night… What a strange time to ask someone for help.

He didn’t notice her suspicion – or if he did, he didn’t comment on it - as he continued, “Well, you see, I’m doing a consumer satisfaction interview of sorts. It's been broadened out to include a wide variety of- oh, it’ll only take a moment, I promise.” He rushed through the last sentence as he saw her preparing to slam the door in his face. Even as the undead, which could only be truly harmed by holy objects, having his face flattened by a dead tree didn’t quite appeal to his vainer side. “Now, what is your favorite movie?”

“Uh- what?”

“Movie. Your favorite?”

“Um… I’m not… really sure…?” As she spoke, she became more and more skeptical of the man in her doorway. This night was very weird. People with time to kill went to the movies. People with friends went to the movies. She had neither.

“Oh. Not a moviegoer?”

“No... I mean, n-not really…”

“Okay, then. Next question. Favorite condiment?”

“Condime- What? What kind of interview is this? Who is it for, anyway? Who are you?” She demanded, suddenly angry. No doubt this one was one of those weird teenager pranks. Except, this man didn’t look like a teenager. Her veined fingers grasped the edge of the door again, clearly preparing to take another attempt at slamming her door in his face.

“Oh, that’s unfortunate.” He sent her a sad smile. This time, he didn’t bother to conceal the four fangs protruding from his jaw. “You see, I was going to get in a... Debate, of sorts. I was rather hoping you’d say… I don’t know, ‘ketchup’ or something. My personal favorite is adrenaline. Even though it's for the muscles, it still adds that extra, I don’t know… An extra zing, so to speak—“

“—Wait. Adrenaline- that’s in the bl—,” Her sentence was cut short as she saw him approaching. It didn’t take long for the few pieces she had to fall into place. She was a firm believer in both heaven and hell, as religion was the only thing that had kept her somewhat stable throughout her life. She also believed that people sentenced to hell sometimes returned. In that moment, when her beliefs were proven to be a reality, she finally saw – really saw – him for the damned being that he was.

She saw the protruding fangs and the gray eyes flashing with what was unmistakably hunger. Not the hunger of a five-year-old wanting a cookie before dinner; the hunger of an ancient predator. A wolf. A snake. A lion. Conniving, intelligent, patient. For a time.

But no longer.

The predator was ready to spring.

The fear came shortly after her understanding did. It was mellowed by something, though. Realization struck her just then, just moments before her very probable murder. This “man” – for lack of a better word – was probably going to kill her. Maybe she’d been dying for a while now, though. A new emotion washed over her that time: Regret.

Life was the one thing everyone had in common, the only thing everyone was gifted with indiscriminately, and she had wasted hers. No friends, no contact with her family, a bad job, poor education, no hobbies, no neighbors, no interests other than worshiping her god… She was lost in thought and she barely registered the clouds moving, uncovering the previously shielded moon. Strangely, the light seemed to just be absorbed by the strange man before her. He formed no hint of a shadow.

Finally, she mustered up courage from an unknown source. A desire to spend her last moments alive overpowered her fear of death.

“Do me a favor. Just one.”

He blinked in confusion at her newer, more assertive tone. However, he obliged. He moved closer to her, though that time, he did so in a much less offensive, more casual manner. His eyebrow cocked in mild curiosity as he waited for his next meal’s last request. “Remember me.” As she spoke, she leaned backwards, trying to reach her arm around the door. The cross was there. If she could just reach it, there was a chance…

He gave her a sad smile, tilting his head in false pity and very real amusement. Despite being centuries old, cockiness prevented him from noticing her actions. He interpreted them as a vain attempt to postpone death. It was too late, though; death was on her doorstep. Quite literally. Very poor timing, trying to live when you had mere minutes left. If that.

“You know… You’re really taking it much better than everyone else did. Congratulations.”

He murmured softly as he approached her. His eyes moved from her face to her neck to her breasts, not even attempting to be stealthy. Before he realized what was happening, he saw a cross shoved across his chest. He could only assume that mentioning he was a mass murderer with such casualness had fueled her anger. He loved instances like this one; when the completely inexperienced prey tried to outwit the predator with lifetimes of experience.

“What is your name, monster?” There was new strength in her voice now that she felt protected. While trying to hold back a laugh, he decided to play along.

“That’s a hefty bit of information, that.” He said, putting on a rather convincing act of considering telling her his name so as to ‘postpone his own death.’ “If I might ask… Why would it interest you?”

“Even monsters deserve to be remembered. I’ll make sure that you are. I’ll make sure that your crimes are known. Death will not end your tale.” Slowly, the would-be crucifix was making its way towards where his heart should have been.

Amateur.

“Ah, you are intelligent then.” A glint of humor was entering his smoky eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Death has played its part in my life… And I’m still alive. Indeed, death has not been the end of my tale. How very… Astute of you.” His head was mere inches away from her face by that point. Giving up his act, he let out a short laugh, breathing almost directly onto her weathered neck. His breath was hot and sticky, as though he’d ignored basic dental hygiene for several days; despite that, his teeth were perfectly white. Perfectly straight. Marring that perfection, though, was a slight tinge of brownish-red stains on either of his canines.

A slight blush was creeping up her cheeks, but he pretended not to notice. “But you seem to be under the impression that you’ll be killing me for a second time tonight. That would be where you are incorrect, love.”

“Incorrect? How so?” Her voice faltered; her wrist wobbled ever so slightly, causing the wooden stake to drop slightly as her body began to tremble. Insignificant though it was, it caused him an enormous amount of satisfaction. It was almost as though he’d achieved something spectacular, something altogether unique, even though he’d preyed on more than one victim before as he preyed on her then.

“Holy objects only work when they’ve been blessed – recently – by priests. My heart, if you can’t tell, is completely useless. Stab me and I’ll bleed, yes, but nothing severe would happen. Even if you did manage to somehow reach my heart with that twig… It wouldn’t do much.”

He leaned closer still, causing the old woman to flinch away. He flicked away her wispy strands of faded brown hair, bringing his mouth to her ear. Grabbing her wrist, he twisted it so that the stake’s tip was pointed away from them.

"And no matter how much I would bleed, your blood will replace all that was lost."

He moved his right hand to her shoulder, running his fingers over her shirt’s collar, up her heavily veined neck. Her heart was pounding loudly, but her body was frozen stiff; a deer in headlights. His eyes rolled back in his head at the sound of the heart rate. He was inches away from his one life source, the one thing event that made “life” worth living. That was his favorite moment.

Hearts were all so different when they realized how short of a time they had to live, how little time they had left to keep beating. Some sped up, rushing to make the most of that time; others slowed down, abandoning the hope that was never there to begin with. Despite her bland lifestyle, this woman’s heart sped up. The reactions of different prey fascinated him. It was almost like a science experiment.

“And I fear that I am not as respectful as you, my love…” His lips trailed down to her throat, using them as replacements to his hands. Freed, his hands moved up to her ear and gently pushed her head to the side, exposing her neck. He whispered his last words to her; the last words she would ever hear:

“You will be lost in history.”

His jaw detached like a snake’s, making it large enough to easily fit around her thin throat. The scream that formed in her lungs never left her lips. He bit down, pushing his teeth through the layers of skin and muscle, bursting through the walls of the jugular from both directions in a matter of moments. Her body turned limp and he caught her underneath the armpits with ease, never detaching his mouth from the veins. He let the corpse fall to the ground with a quiet thump once he felt the suffocating nothingness entering his veins in place of blood.

He pulled back and wiped his face clean of the wasted blood. He smeared it on what remained of her mangled neck: His trademark.

And with that, he ran off into the night, leaving the bloodless corpse far behind him.

[lorraine]

well that was certainly graphic!(like you said) anyway it was good and scary....please keep on writing

[Luckeh_Is_Random]

Wow that was really good. I liked it even though there was indeed a bit of gore in there.

[Knight]

hmm...interesting....definately darker than my story is....at the moment....very discriptive and altogether very good....I'll be interested to see what you write next.
-Knight

[Bratterratt]

Well, I can see how the most incredible book (Twilight, I think I'm addicted) was an inspiration to your short story. I enjoyed it. Definite gore in there. But I liked it, your a good author, way better than me!

Bratterratt

[Angelicious]

Aw, thanks everyone =D -gets that fuzzy feeling inside-

Also, Bratterratt, as a side note, Twilight was an anti-inspiration, of sorts... Twilight didn't have what I consider to be real vampires, so I made one. ^^; Just to clear that up.

[Bratterratt]

I realized that. You made your book the opposite. I think you are the one on the other topic titled "Twilight" that was against the book. I can see that you made you vampire more realistic. You should keep writing, your good...

Bratterratt

[Angelicious]

Ah, okay Just checking. Thanks! That means a lot. <3

[Lil*Angel]

Your good! You need to continue! Lol im a twilight fan =D -cheers of twilight-

[KaylaBlue]

FANTASTIC!! It's been awhile since I could find such a good, descriptive story as yours. I can find the ones that are descriptive, but never as good. Amazing job...

Kayla

[Cheyann]

AMAZING! I really like it. Indeed there was blood and gore. I am not much into that when it's movies but books and stories are okay!