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Writing Machine
Join Date: Aug 2005
Location: Middle Earth
Gender: Female
Posts: 1,599
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Blood Lust
Blood Lust
It doesn’t take much effort to call up the memory. Even after so many years have passed, I see him as clearly as if he stood right in front of me. If I close my eyes, I can still hear him, strumming his guitar and singing softly. Singing for me.
Only me.
I imagine him, holding me to his chest on freezing winter nights, whispering softly in my ear, telling me he loved me. I never deserved him. He always disagreed, of course, but to me, that made it even more true. How could I ever deserve someone so unselfish, so giving, when I myself am the most selfish person I know? He disagreed with that, too, of course.
He saw me in a different light, one that, even to this day, I cannot understand. When he spoke of me, he described me as beautiful, loving, supportive. It may be just my memory, but I don’t remember being any of that. I’ve always considered myself cold, and distant. Uncaring. Perhaps during the short time that I was with him, I was everything he claimed I was.
Perhaps not.
It’s impossible for me to think of myself during that time, I can only remember him. Him, and the knowledge that for the first, and only time in my wretched life, I was happy. I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t a monster.
The year of my twenty-third birthday, my life changed forever. My friends and I decided to go skiing in the mountains of Colorado. It snowed heavily, and the air was so cold, I was sure we would all get frostbite.
During the rare occasions that it wasn’t snowing, we sped down the slopes as much as possible, not sure when the next opportunity would come. That’s when it happened.
I was flying down the mountain, possibly for the last time that day, when I hit into something beneath the snow. I tumbled to the ground, my momentum rolling me farther down the slope. I don’t know how long this continued. It’s possible I blacked out, for the next time I opened my eyes, I had stopped rolling.
I wasn’t sure how long I had been there. I tried to move, but I soon realized that was impossible. My body ached all over, and sharp pains shot though my leg when I tried to lift it.
My body was freezing cold. For a while I just lay there, too exhausted to do anything else. As I drifted in and out of consciousness, there was only one thing I was sure of. If someone did not find me soon, I was going to die.
This fact did not disturb me as I thought it would. Considering the pain and exhaustion I was enduring, death was welcome to me. Death was the only way I could see to escape the pain. Even if someone found and rescued me, it would still be there, restricting my every movement, making every breath I took an agony. I just wanted it to stop.
As I sunk further into oblivion, I was vaguely aware of someone else approaching. I wished I had the strength to call out, to beg them to leave me, but my voice was barely a whisper. As I slowly lost all coherent thought, I felt myself being lifted lightly off the ground.
When I awoke, I didn’t know where I was. Nothing looked familiar. I tried to sit up, but a wave of nausea swept through me and I lay back down.
My entire body was dangerously hot. The pain was on the point of unbearable, but my exhaustion helped me to endure it. I frequently slipped in and out of consciousness as I lay there, and when I was able to think I wondered if dying in the snow would’ve been better.
Now, when I look back, I wish she would’ve left me to die.
I don’t know how long I lay in that state. I just know that, eventually, the pain stopped. My body no longer felt like it was slowly being roasted. In fact, I felt cool. I touched my forehead and found that I was freezing cold, but I wasn’t uncomfortable. I felt great.
I sat up, but I wasn’t assaulted by nausea as I expected to be. I wasn’t even exhausted anymore. I took in my surroundings quietly, instantly knowing that I was in a cabin. I was sitting on a small cot in a corner, and a small stove sat on the other side of the room from me, heating the cabin. A hallway began next to it, leading to other rooms of the cabin. The walls were plain and unadorned, and a small chest sat at the end of the bed. There was also a small table in the adjacent corner, with one chair, and a window overlooking them both. All of this I noticed instantly, and I soon stood and made my way to the door in the opposite wall.
Boundless energy coursed through my veins, and I walked quickly and effortlessly.
“Going somewhere?” a voice asked from behind me as I opened the door.
I turned and found a beautiful woman standing behind me. She had long, straight black hair and pale skin. Every feature of her face was perfect. I noticed she wasn’t much shorter than me, and although she was just as petite as I was, she had a look about her that made me think she was much stronger than she appeared.
She stood by the cot with her arms crossed in front of her, waiting for me to answer.
“Well?” she asked when I continued to stare.
I shook myself and found my voice.
“I’m sorry,” I said. My voice sounded different, smoother, more musical.
“Where am I?”
She still hadn’t unfolded her arms. She glared at me a moment longer and then crossed the room to the stove. She stared into the flame within, lost in her own thoughts. Finally she turned to me.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” she asked. Her voice was even more musical than mine. Her words rolled off her tongue with such smoothness that I hesitated to answer, I was so lost in the sound of her voice.
“I…..I remember lying in the snow, and unbearable pain, and then someone approaching……” My voice drifted off.
“Was that you?” I asked. She unfolded her arms and placed her fists on her hips.
“Yes, that was me,” she said. “I saw you hit that hidden boulder, and then followed you. I figured you’d already be dead when I found you.”
I nodded, understanding her reasoning. I had been pretty banged up after tumbling down the mountain.
“Well, thank you for saving me,” I said. “You didn’t have to do that. I’m grateful.”
She got a look on her face then, as if she was unsure of something, and went back to crossing her arms.
“There’s something you should know, before you go about thanking me,” she said slowly. She seemed to be struggling internally, as if something weighed heavily on her conscience. I wondered at this. She had saved my life. Why should she feel guilty?
She took a deep breath.
“Come here,” she said , reaching for my arm. Her hands were as cold as mine, colder, if that’s possible. She tugged me to the hallway door and pulled me through. A little ways down the hall was a fairly large mirror on the right side. To this she led me, and then positioned me in front of it.
I gasped involuntarily. I had no reflection. I waved my hands in front of the mirror, trying to find the trick, but it was just an ordinary mirror. That was when I noticed that she gave no reflection either.
“How did this happen?”
She sighed behind me.
“Well,” she said. “You were really bad off when I found you.”
She looked down at the floor.
“I did the only thing I could to save you.”
What did you do?” I asked, turning to look at her. Slowly, she raised her eyes to mine.
“I turned you into a vampire.”
Later, she told me her name was Marie, and I stayed with her for a long time. Years passed in moments, and I soon lost all track of time. I’m sure my friends thought me dead. They couldn’t know that they weren’t far off from the truth. I adjusted to my new life without much difficulty. My only regret was the loss of all my friends and family. My new cravings and instincts were so strong that I couldn’t trust myself around them. So I stayed in the mountains of Colorado, and life went on. I grew faster, stronger, smarter. And restless.
After countless years of living with Marie, I decided I wanted to travel. I could always return to her, and I had innumerable years ahead of me: I wanted to see the world. I traveled to Europe first. I spent several months crossing Spain, France, Germany, and Great Britain, then moved on to Russia.
I was amazed to find that the vampire population was a lot larger than I’d previously expected. Everywhere I went, I found others like me. Some were “new-borns”, a few “ancients”, but the majority were “regulars” like me.
I also noticed that we weren’t limited on nationality. My kind occupied every country, without exception.
I especially like Russia. It reminded me of home; the snow, the cold, the isolated feeling. I stayed there for months on end, then continued to China. By the end of a few years, I had visited every country on earth, and had gained several lifelong friends. It was then that I decided I wanted to visit my home. My human home.
I knew I could no longer put my family in danger. I had gained immense control over my cravings, and I kept myself fresh. Besides this, I had doubts whether my family were still even living. It had been several years: anything could have happened. With these thoughts in mind, I made my way home to the States.
My hometown was much the same as I remembered. I wandered the streets for hours, searching out old friends’ houses. I even visited my old school. Not a lot had changed. As I turned down another street I noticed a red truck coming my way. I got to the far side of the road to let it pass, but to my surprise, it slowed down and pulled up beside me. The dark tinted window rolled down, revealing the tanned face of a man.
That was the first time I saw him.
His hair was a sandy-blonde mess atop his head, and his piercing blue eyes looked over me within intense curiosity. For a moment I thought he might be one of my kind, his features were so beautiful. But it didn’t take me long to realize that he was only a human. I tried to ignore him and turned to continue walking when he called out to me.
“Wait!” he shouted as he put the truck in reverse. I looked back at him. That was my first mistake. He hesitated.
“Do you need a ride?” he asked. It barely took me a moment to answer.
“Yes,” I said. That was my second mistake. He grinned.
“Hop in,” he said, indicating the other side of the truck with his head. I didn’t feel afraid. If he tried to do anything to me, I was much more deadly than he was. Besides this, I wanted to go with him. I felt drawn to him. As I got into the cab, I became acutely aware of his scent. The only word I can think of to describe it is sweet. I’d never smelled anything like it before, and after him, I’ve never found anyone whose scent even comes close.
I was on edge the entire time as he drove through the back streets of town. He was so alluring, so mouth-watering that I had to roll down the window to restrain myself from attacking him. The more fresh air I breathed, the easier it became.
“Where should I take you?” he suddenly asked, breaking the silence. We were approaching the main road.
“Turn left,” I told him. This he did, and then drove slowly past the dark, cluttered shops lining the road.
“Pull over here,” I told him when he came up on a street corner. He did so and then turned off the engine. I stole a nervous glance at him and reached for the door handle.
“Take care of yourself,” he said.
“Thanks for the ride,” I managed to reply. I hurriedly opened the door, hopped out, and slammed it shut, hurrying away as fast as I could. I thought I heard him chuckle before I hurried around the corner. Little did he know that he had come face to face with death; perhaps if he had known, he would have fled far away.
The next day I decided to spend my time at the town library. They had built a new building while I’d been away, and I was anxious to see what new titles it had acquired. I walked slowly up and down the aisles, taking my time and skimming through the pages of one that caught my eye. I became so absorbed in one book that I didn’t notice that another person had entered the aisle until he cleared his throat. I looked up toward the direction of the sound and froze in place. It was him.
He was casually flipping through the pages of a book, pretending to be indifferent to the fact that I was a few feet away from him. I glared at him for a moment, then put the book back on the shelf and turned to leave the aisle by the opposite end. Just as I was turning the corner, he called out.
“Hey!” he said. I heard him rushing to catch up with me and silently cursed him for his stupidity. Did he like putting himself in danger? As I turned back to face him, a wide smile spread across his face. He walked closer and stretched out his hand.
“I don’t believe we were introduced,” he said. “I’m Logan.”
I stared at his outstretched hand and then back at his face. He slowly put it down when I didn’t offer mine.
“Nice name,” I responded. I turned again to escape around the corner.
“Wait!” he called again. A chorus of ‘Shh!’ broke out from a few aisles down and he adjusted his voice to a whisper.
“Don’t I get your name?” he asked. “That’s how it works, right?” I glared back at him for a moment, putting all my anger and frustration into the look, but he didn’t seem to notice. He just continued to smile. I huffed in a fit of agitation.
“Lenore,” I said. I tried to turn to leave again, but he grabbed my arm. A wave of warmth spread through my body at his touch. Without thinking, I closed my eyes, relishing the feeling.
“Please,” he said. “Won’t you stay with me?” I gently pried his fingers from my arm and turned back to face him. He was more handsome than any human male had a right to be. It still astonishes me that he could look the way he did and not be one of us. The only others I had ever seen who even compared to him were of course vampires.
“Look,” I told him. “The last thing you want to do is get involved with me. I’m not good for you.” I tried to warn him. There were several times when I tried to make him leave me, and a few times when I tried to leave him. It was no use. The longer we stayed together, the more impossible it became for us to be apart.
Things progressed quickly after that day at the library. Logan and I soon became inseparable. It was very hard for me at first to control myself when I was around him. I often worried that I would slip and give in to my instincts. I’m thankful that never happened, but he still would have been safer if he’d left me alone. This was my biggest mistake. I wasn’t in enough control of myself to let him go, even though it was for his own good. I should’ve been the stronger person and ended it before it was too late.
It didn’t take him long to realize what I was. He was a smart guy, and he had an open mind that allowed him to accept what others would find impossible. He noticed that I never ate in front of him, that I preferred the night to daylight, and that at times I struggled within myself. (These were times when I wasn’t as fresh as I should’ve been, which made being around him that much more difficult.)
At first I denied what he said. I hoped that if I could dissuade him from that line of thought, he’d leave it alone for good. But he was too clever. He saw through my lies and pressed me about it even more fervently. Eventually, I told him the truth.
I was surprised at how calmly he accepted it. Anyone else would have panicked immediately. But that was just it.
He wasn’t scared of me.
He didn’t see me as a monster, or a demon. He only saw Lenore. I still haven’t decided if that was good, or bad.
From the time he discovered that I was a vampire, I should’ve been expecting what came next. He was very persistent: he wanted to become a vampire, too. At first I violently refused him. We had countless fights, arguing for hours on end. Why don’t you want to be with me? he’d ask. He could never understand, and I told him so.
But I eventually gave in. I wish I would’ve been stronger, that I would’ve continued to fight with him about it. I did want him to be with me, more than anything else. What other choice did I have? The worst I could see happening was him hating his life as a vampire and then hating me for all eternity.
I was gifted with rotten foresight.
As the night that we’d decided on approached, I became extremely nervous. I found that I was easily irritated and often distracted. I tried to keep my mind on positive things, to prevent myself from thinking about what I would have to do. I wasn’t very successful.
Logan arrived at my house at eight thirty. No worries or fears possessed him; he was completely at ease. I marveled at how calm he was. It was as if that night was just like any other night.
Despite his calm demeanor, I was shaking in terror. I tried to reassure myself, to convince my mind and body that there was nothing to fear. That I could do it.
Logan took me in a warm embrace, gently stroking my hair.
“Whatever happens tonight, Lenore,” he said. “I want you to know that I love you more than anything in this world.”
“I love you too,” I said. “And I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Nothing will happen to me. Have faith in yourself.”
I sighed. That was the problem. I had no faith in myself at all.
“Lenore,” he whispered. I felt myself tense. I knew what was coming.
“I’m ready.”
Involuntarily, I squeezed him tighter.
“Logan….,” I began to say.
“It’s okay. I trust you.”
I swallowed. I still didn’t feel good about it.
“I don’t think I can….”
“Just do it, Lenore,” he insisted. “Do it now.”
“Logan……”
“Do it!”
“I…….”
“Please, Lenore! Do it now!”
“Wait!”
“Do it!”
I panicked. Suddenly, I bit into his flesh, planning to get it over as soon as possible. But as soon as I did that, I lost control completely. I couldn’t tear myself away from him, though I tried several times. I could tell he was becoming uncomfortable, but there was nothing I could do about it.
The worst part was when he started to scream.
After what seemed like hours, I was finally able to pull away. Tears poured from my eyes and I buried my face in my hands. I had failed. I didn’t have to check to know that he was dead.
It doesn’t take much effort to call up the memory. Even after so many years have passed, I see him as clearly as if he stood right in front of me. If I close my eyes, I can still hear him. I imagine him, holding me close to his chest on freezing winter nights, whispering softly in my ear, telling me he loved me. I never deserved him. He always disagreed, of course.
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"Silence is not a natural environment for stories. They need words. Without them they grow pale, sicken and die. And then they haunt you." -Diane Setterfield, The Thirteenth Tale
Among the Ashes
Last edited by VinrAlfakyn : 04-24-2007 at 02:34 PM.
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