Bloodlust

“Stop the coach!” she screamed frenetically to the driver after catching her breath.
She felt an incomparable lump swell inside her throat as she hesitated to open the door, but her curiosity proved more dominant than her fear.
Slowly, Charlotte forced the door to creak open to reveal the luscious French countryside. The lush meadows sprawled themselves out in front of the majesty of trees that covered the hills for miles. The fog was gathering among the vegetation as deprived bees would gather around a new patch of wildflowers. It seemed to absorb every square inch of the forests, just stopping at the meadow’s edge as if there were some sylvan law prohibiting it from devouring a sacred ground.
The air felt hot and sticky on her face. She shut the door to the coach as slowly as she had opened it and turned to make her way to the driver.
“Sir, I swear I saw something. It was on top of the roof or something.” She said constantly looking down to watch her step. “Would you mind taking a look for…” she stopped upon seeing an empty coach bench. The horses started to grow panicky as a chilly breeze swept across the seas of field grass. A breeze much to cold for this time of year, she thought to herself. She couldn’t help but admit that she too was feeling a little skeptical. After all, the night was dark and the barren fields watched her every shaky move.
“sshhh” she calmed the horses, stroking there thick black manes. The farthest horse let out a strong whiny and started stomping his hooves into the decaying cobblestone of the hillside path and was soon mimicked by the one Charlotte was trying to tame. The horses had definitely been spooked by someone, or something. Suddenly they reared up and took off as if Hades himself was nipping at their feet.
“Come back!” she screamed at them. Even if they could have understood her, they wouldn’t have come back, even for an instant. Their bestial instinct had set in and not even God himself would sway them otherwise. She watched them for as long as the fog would permit her to, watching their long tails flutter in the cruel autumn night, flickering as a dying flame fighting a sudden flood of water.
She felt something dance across her exposed chest and quickly brought her hand to meet the sensation only to find nothing.
“Who’s there?” she gasped stupidly before turning to discover the driver’s mutilated carcass on the ground underneath where the coach would have been. She gasped, grabbing her throat. Cautiously, she approached the corpse while fondling her cameo around her neck. His face was immaculately white with the exception of the crimson streaks of blood that streamed down his face and into his terror-filled eyes, the look of horror still captivating them. What could have possibly done such a thing? What would drive a creature to such grotesque measures?
She could not decide what to do. Should she turn back towards the ball? Or should she try to make it home alone? She could not recognize where she was. The fog was too heavy. She estimated that she was lost somewhere in the middle of both places, which left her without much persuasion to go with one plan or another. Eventually, after gathering her courage, she made up her mind to try to find her own way home. Only, much later she would regret ever making that decision.
She folded her arms across her chest to shield her breasts from the cool air, and perhaps to form some false sense of security and with that, she set out on her journey home, leaving the poor man’s dead body behind to be picked at by the rodents.
“Charlotte” a voice echoed through the trees “I know what you want, Charlotte.”
The girl stopped dead in her tracks. “Who’s there?” she inquired weakly. Her heart had begun to beat dangerously fast and was pulsating through her brain. “Who’s there?” she asked again, a little more sternly this time. “I will have you know that I know a great deal of people who will not be kind to anyone who crosses me” she warned in hopes that the voice might leave her alone in her isolation. She peered over the hills, attempting to see past the forest line, but the fog was too dense to see anything beyond the path’s perimeter.
“You might fool others,” the voice sounded a lot closer now and didn’t echo as much. “But you cannot fool me.”
“What are you?” she had stopped walking now and was clenching her shoulders in fear.
“My name is Malerus” the voice stated bluntly
Charlotte felt someone grab her from behind and she let out a quiet shriek. His hands were cold and as hard as stone as they wrapped around her arms that were still clenched across her chest. She could feel the hardness of his chest resting on her back and his breath smelled like the taste of biting metal.
“You are a virgin. I can tell by the scent of your blood.” he whispered into her ear from over her shoulder. “It is pure, but don’t worry. I have already fed tonight.”
His voice was enticing. It called to Charlotte, beckoning her to give herself to him for whatever purpose. She felt weak and utterly helpless. What could she do now? Even if she had a chance of escape, would she want to take it? She felt his lips brush against the skin on her left shoulder, before he spoke again.
“Ahh…I mustn’t yet,” he recited. “Now is not the time. Now they come for you.” He said before releasing her.
Immediately, she spun around to confront the mysterious man, but he had vanished as if in air.
“Who is coming?” she screamed into the night. “What do you want with me?” The clopping of hooves in the distance interrupted her. She could see the faint burning of a lantern and she hurriedly scurried off in the opposite direction towards the approaching carriage, unaware that those fierce blue eyes were still watching her.