Moonlight, A Vampire Story

She slept like a child.

Her arms were tight around the pillow against her chest, an unconscious smile pushed up her cheeks. There were no worries or fears on her face, just peacefulness so many want.  The lines on her face told me a tale –how her dreams were extra sweet tonight. Maybe they were sweetest in the world but she would never remember them. She only has them tonight.

I stood in a corner of her room, the only one the moonlight couldn’t reach. From there, I saw everything –from each falling strand of hair on her head to the rise and fall of her chest. And I heard so many things –the little ants crawling out of the pack of rotting cookies under her bed, the sound of her breath, the flowing blood under her skin.

The last sound made me gasp, night air rushing into my old lungs. The feeling pushed me hard against the wall. My tongue skimmed along my lip –making it wet and coloring it red. I pressed my back harder against the wall, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Again, I heard the sound…

If only this girl knew.

It’s been days since my last drink.

If this was another lifetime, if I kept my old ways, she would have been dead.

But things are different now.

I slinked to her, moving away from the dark corner where I hid to the bed she slept in. I glided past the lone ray of moonlight that cut across her room. My feet slithered over the dust, ants and dirty clothes on her floor. As I drew closer, the sound of her heart pumping blood all throughout her got louder, as if it was banging against my eardrums.  I tried to listen to other things –the ants rummaging for cookie crumbs under her bed, the rats hiding in her walls, just not the war drum beats in her chest or the steady stream in her veins. I’ve done this countless time before.

My head started hurting as if my skull was shrinking around my brain. But I still tried to block away the sound.  And then like a response, she twisted her head to side –baring her neck to night, to my eyes. My throat dried up and felt rough at the sight, the sound I tried snubbing seconds ago started buzzing in my skull again.

I haven’t fed in days; the sound drilled the thought in my head.

The sound made me lean close to her, close enough to let the scent of her blood dance under my nose.  My head stopped hurting when I smelled the blood but I felt my fangs sliding against the tip of my tongue and the acids burning my stomach.

Why can’t things be like before when I could just sink my teeth into a neck and drink and drink and drink…

A cold wind pushed the windows open and slapped me out of my thoughts.  I looked at an open window, gritting my teeth and fighting the growl that made my throat quiver.

Of course, I couldn’t do such a thing to this girl. She was special after all.

Then I heard it, the sound of eyelids parting with a quick, crisp snap. I looked back at the girl. Her pupils were wide in the dark and in them, there was my reflection.

I backed away to my corner as she stood up and got off the bed. The moonlight made her sallow skin paler; making her look more like inhuman creature I was supposed to be. A hard surface banged my back but I tried to back away some more.

“Eric? Eric Carmen?” She whispered as her hand vanished in the darkness and cold, spidery fingers wrapped around my wrist.

“I know it’s you,” she announced, her voice brave and smug, “Eric Carmen.”

There was no more point in hiding. I walked out of the darkness, my green eyes glued to her brown ones.

“I’ve been watching you, Luella.” I said as I felt the moonlight polish my skin. At once, her hands flew to cover her mouth and her eyes became as big as the moon. I felt her anticipation and delight crackling against my skin.  There was no tinge of fear trickling along her back.

Once long ago, the sight of fangs and skin that shimmered under the moonlight made Catholics cross themselves, made people weep and piss themselves.

Times have changed.

Girls aren’t afraid of vampires anymore.

I took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I did this, Luella. But I can’t stop thinking of you.” I whispered as I reached out to her. My fingers wrapped around her arms, I felt her bones protruding against her thin skin.

The lines on a human face tell so many tales but the face itself, to a creature like me, will never be enchanting or exciting. I wasn’t a lovefool with infatuated eyes, I saw her for what she really was. Not a goddess, not an angel but a mortal.

There was nothing special about her, there was nothing great. I could blink and forget her face. But tonight, she was the only living thing my eyes could see.

I rested my forehead against hers. I let out a breath and watched a blush bloom on her cheeks when the hot air crashed against the tip of her nose.

“You’re the only person who can do this to me, Luella. What is it about you?” She bit her lower lip, giggled and looked at me. I have lived through centuries and drank from the necks of thousands of women and they have all given me that look.

It was want.

“I have no idea what you see in me, Eric. I’m not special at all.” A grin pushed up her lips as she said it, a shy grin and a small drop of pride.  But at least she knew that nothing about her was special.

Maybe that was the only thing that made her unique from the others.

“You are, Luella. There’s something about you, something special under the surface. You’re a treasure and I want you to know that.”

“Oh Eric, you sound so romantic.” She sighed, resting her head on my chest. It was true. Romance was a scent, a feeling, my kind exuded. This was how we got the living to spread their legs and bare their necks. This was how we survived.

And this was the same reason why I stood here, in front of a mediocre daydreamer whose name I’ll forget once the night ended.

“Do you like my almond eyes, Eric? My lips? My hair? My curves? My wit? Maybe it’s my personality you can’t resist.”  The blush kept on creeping on her face, drowning out her paleness. I thought the blush would make her seem healthier but it made her skin look inflamed.

“All of you, Luella. I don’t love your fragments or your pieces. You’re a whole person, not shattered glass. I want you, every bit of you.” Her smile got wider, her eyes twinkling like constellations. Her reaction wasn’t special; I’ve seen it on so many women. Their eyes always lit up and their hearts always raced when I told them those words.

“Do you know how much I want you? How bad I need you?” My voice rose, desperation seeping out of my mouth. A sound echoed from the back of her throat, it was barely disguised delight. Women like her love desperation, they crave for it. In fact, women like her love desperation so much, they reek of the thing.

“I know, Eric. I know.” She failed at hiding the smug grin forming that twisted her already crooked mouth. Of course, she knew. After all, I stood in this room because of her.

“Do you dream about me, Eric? Do you dream about me the way I dream about you?” Greed gleamed in her eyes. And behind the greed I saw flashes, years upon years of being ignored. I saw her parents in her eyes, equally mindless creatures asking her stupid questions. Why wasn’t she as pretty as her younger sister? Why wasn’t she as smart? I saw her being taken for granted by everyone; they all fawned over her sweet little sister.

In this time and at this place, I was the only one who gave a damn about her. She thought that I was the only one in this world who loved her.

Tonight, her thoughts were correct.

Another scent waltzed in the air –attraction, her attraction. I could smell it dripping from between her legs; the warmth in her belly clinging on my skin. The smell made my vision spin and blur, it was a strong smell. But no matter how strong her attraction hummed, the desperate stench was still there, oozing out of her pores and slinking into my nose.

“Tell me, Eric! Do you dream about me? Do you see me when you close your eyes?” She said, her sickeningly sweet voice turning to something that sounded like metal scraping against metal. I couldn’t hide my cringe from her.

“Eric! Answer me. Do you love me? Do you want me?” She asked again, the shrillness of her voice grating across my shoulders. I couldn’t answer her. I felt the gust again, wrapping around my neck and forcing me to give her an answer.   She tilted her neck at me before I could give an answer. It was a cunning move. My ears caught the sound of blood in her veins. It sounded like waves crashing against each other in the sea. I ran my tongue down my sharp fang. It’s been days since my last drink —

The chilly wind ran through my hair, pulled at it. The breeze made me stop myself, reminding me that there would be hell to pay once I lost control. I gulped and whispered.

“I dream about you, Luella. Night and day, in my waking hours and when I close my eyes. You’re the sun that sets me on fire and moon that eases the pain.” Desperation was all there and under its shadow was hunger. It warped my senses, made them liars.

I could feel my teeth sinking into her neck and ripping off the thick taunting vein. I could almost see the red stream flowing from her torn neck. Her blood felt warm under my fingers.

“Eric, are those fangs?” Her voice pierced through the hallucination and so did the gust of wind. I blinked twice and tried to focus on her.

“Yes, Luella. I have to confess, I’m a—“

“Vampire?” She didn’t sound surprised. But then again, why would she? I nodded, looking away from her. I felt a bony hand press gently against my chest. Her pulse was beating against my skin, teasing and tempting. The hunger clawed at my ribs and scraped at my bones. My eyes, my tongue, it felt like they were being boiled. I sucked in a breath before continuing.

“I’m a monster, Luella. I’m a killer. And I…need…Luella. I. NEED.”  She blushed deeper and glowed brighter with every word. I didn’t need her. What would I want from daydreamer rotting in reality? Why would I want a creature that feeds on delusions the way I feed on blood?

“How much, Eric? How bad so you need me?” She asked, eyes half-closed and voice deep and syrupy. Maybe she was fluttering her eyes at me or pouting her lips, but I didn’t see those. I saw no lips, hair or skin. I saw muscles and veins. They were red, moist and intricate. And there was blood, it ran through the veins and soaked the muscles. I shook my head and felt the sweat on my brow. I wiped at it with the back of my hand. My mouth suddenly felt more parched when I saw the blood coating my hand.

“Luella, please! I need to drink. Please!” I bawled as I fell to my hands and knees, my tears, spittle and sweat dripping on her bedroom floor.

This was me, a monster of beauty and pedigree, begging some lovesick creature for a few drops of blood.

“Please, my darling,” this was me spitting on my proud heritage, “Just a few drops, Luella.  A few drops.” I shouldn’t be on my knees. I gave her romance, I gave her thrill.  All I needed was a few drops of blood. Not even a spoonful, just two, three drops.

I was about to scream at her to keep her end of the bargain when she grinned at me and raised her hand to her neck. She started scratching. The sharp fingernail scraped and scratched the skin, making the skin glow red. My fangs throbbed as she scratched. She was digging for something precious, something delicious.

Scratch.

Scratch.

Scratch.

And then, skin broke and blood flowed.

It ran down her neck, down her chest and left a bright red trail down her pearl white nightgown. My mouth watered as I looked at her bedroom floor where the blood gathered in delicious drops.

I dived to the floor, to the miniscule pools of food, lapping at the liquid. The dust and dirt from her room mingled with the blood. But I kept on lapping. A bitter taste spread around my tongue, a blend of bedroom dirt and disease. Alas, my head bent down more, my tongue kept on touching the floor. Every blood cell, every drip I collected with my thirsting tongue.

The blood kept on dripping to the floor and it felt like rain. Perhaps it was the long period of hunger or the fact that this blood did not come easy, but I stopped drinking and pressed my forehead on the bloody floor. This blood –no matter how dirty –was food, was life, was sacred.

I felt something hit me in the stomach, something so forceful I ended up on my back. I groaned, blood and dirt caked on my cheek. My eyes rolled up and there, I saw her towering over me with arms crossed around her chest and a frown digging down her chin.

“Stop that!” She shouted at me, flaring nostrils and all. Her blood boiled, I felt them simmer and bubble inside her.

“You look like a pig. I didn’t pay that sorceress three months of my allowance so you could act like a pig.” She said, wiping the blood away from her neck. The last drops of blood flowed down her dress, down, down to my mouth.

One drop, two drops and then no more.

My tongue grazed the corners of my mouth for blood traces I might have missed.

There was none. And then to make things worse, I felt a foot hit my side.

“Get up. Come on, the night isn’t over.” A kick accompanied her every word, sending ripples to my bones. I sat up and turned to her. Maybe it was the thirst but the sight of a bright red line of blood cutting the middle of a snow white nightgown gave me goosebumps.

The hem of her nightgown was a bloody mess. But I thumbed the edging and enjoyed the feeling on lukewarm blood and cool silk. I couldn’t take it anymore. I leaned in to the cloth and sucked on the blood.

“Stop it! You’re disgusting! Eric Carmen didn’t do that in the books!” She yelled. I could see the disgust dripping from her words as she yelled and kicked at my shoulder. I didn’t care. She kicked and clawed as I let my lips trail up her gown.

“You pervert! You freak! Get off me!” Her left thigh rose from its position, its foot stomping again and again on my shoulder. I stood my ground, my lips attached somewhere in the middle of her right thigh. And then with one last stomp on my shoulder, a sickening crack drowned all the other sounds in the room. I felt my collarbone snap and to ease the pain, I bit down her thigh.

She was screaming gibberish now, her spidery fingers tangled up in my hair, trying to pull my head away from her leg. I’m not a sadist but I loved how hurt she sounded, how scared she smelled.  And her blood. Oh god, blood.

The frenzy didn’t last long. The hands on my hair stopped pulling, the free leg stopped thrashing against me, her screams were now just whimpers.

“Eric Carmen didn’t do that in the books, Eric Carmen was sweet, romantic even. He was a darling. He loved Luella so much.” She said, hiccups chopping up her words. I looked up at her, pulling my fangs from her thigh and enjoying her cry at the pain.

“I’m not Eric Carmen.” I growled, baring my teeth at her.

“I’m a vampire not a sex toy.” Cold winds blew against my back; the wind blew so hard it felt like someone was right behind me.

“Stop forcing my kind to fulfill your fantas—” A hand, a solid hand wrapped around my neck and I felt something sharp go through my back, my ribs, my heart. Something cold and sharp protruded out of my chest. It was a metal stake.

My eyes caught the stake’s gleam before I crashed to the floor.

Wise humans lie when they say that vampires crumble to dust when they die. We don’t vanish into thin air, our bodies and hurt don’t just suddenly turn to ashes. We wither, that’s what happens. The heart stops pumping the blood, slowly killing every Nosferatic cell.

We die at a snail’s pace, with time and hurt stretching for miles and miles and for days and days.

And we feel every second.

“Are you alright? Holy hell, you’re bleeding like the elevator from the Shining.” My eyes couldn’t move anymore, I’ve lost control of my body. But I would know that voice anywhere. I have heard it cast spells, voice threats and feign promises. And that voice promised me so many things.

“What took you so long, sorceress? That freak sucked enough blood from me to run a blood bank.” The girl’s shrieks felt like fingers poking my wound.

“Miss, I’m extremely sorry. It looks like he lost it. I forgot to feed him.” I have never heard the sorceress sound apologetic and what a sound it was. It’s like hearing a hurricane say sorry.

“I don’t care! He,” she stepped on the stake on my chest as if to emphasize, “didn’t act like Eric Carmen! I paid you good money to give me a vampire who acts like Eric Carmen!”

“Like I said, I’m sorry. This is a little problem with the product. Not feeding them for weeks makes them kind of crazy.” That was the same voice that cast a spell on me, the spell that led me to this life.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it! I wanted romance but all I got was bloodloss! I want my money back!”

“What if I send another vampire for the night? Would that be cool? The moon is still full and the night is young. What do you say?” The sorceress sounded coy as she pulled the stake from my body. My vision was gone now and so was my sense of touch. Death was coming closer and closer now like a shy lover.

“Does he look like Eric Carmen? Will he love me and woo me like he did with Luella in the books?”

“Of course, the one I’ll send later is more romantic and sweet than this Eric here.” Please death, come closer. Closer and take me away.

“Really? Oh thank you, sorceress. You’re a blessing to girls everywhere. Where would we be without you?”

The sound of their voice was dimming and so were my thoughts. Before the death ate me whole, I heard the sorceress in her sly, gusty   voice.

“No worries. After all, I make dreams like yours come true.”

My Imaginary Boyfriend

It has come to my attention that I have gotten myself an imaginary boyfriend.
And no, it is not a real life boy helplessly shanghaied into my depraved BDSM fantasies.
He is an actual creation of my addled, lying mind. I named him Noah.

Hey don’t laugh, this is not an indicator of my insanity or of my crippling social ineptitude.
This is a fucking breakthrough in the field of dating, relationships,career and greedy selfishness.

Never again has a girl to worry about distance, fidelity and unexpected pregnancies!

PROS:
–He is hot. Imaginary boyfriends are like the Sims. You can totally customize them to suit your shallow needs and desires.

–He is somewhat sweet and thoughtful. Like I mentioned above, imaginary boyfriends are totally customizable to suit your needs and desires. Also, he will wear a fucking condom if you tell him to unlike some douchebags I know.

–He’s sensitive. Because he lives in your mind, he knows your problems and needs and he’ll do his best to fulfill them.

–No more long distance problems. He is a hot boy living in your head, it doesn’t matter if you’re flying to Slovenia or some other country to study because He. Is. Always. There.

–He won’t cheat. He won’t be able to look at some sexier, bustier girl because duh! He was created to cater to your desires.

–He’s disposable. Unlike any ex-girlfriend of Pete Wentz of Fall Out Boy, you won’t have to worry about spiteful song lyrics, texts, calls or e-mails from your imaginary boyfriend! Since he’s not really real, you can dispose of him when you get bored.

CONS/UNEXPECTED SIDE EFFECTS:
-Increase in social ineptitude.
-Could lead to schizophrenia.
-You might end up dying old and alone.

But come on! Who cares about social ineptitude? Or schizophrenia? Or dying alone?
The pros totally outweigh the cons.

Imaginary boyfriends are the shit!
Get one now!
Free!

hold your breath, close your eyes…

and get your lousy ass ready to dive…

howdy wordpress, this is kyo kagami signing in and taking blogging and writing seriously