Bloodlust

Blackness. Suffocating, perpetual domination. It clouds over like a viscous film blocking out every last flicker of day. Is this all to life? Everything to fear and nothing to hope for? We live. We die. But what we do in between, does that really matter? After all, we do return from whence we came. Dust. Blackness. Suffocating perpetual domination. The people we know, the places we’ve been, the beliefs we fought and would have died for. All nothing. That word. Nothing. It really means everything doesn’t it? In this life, everything is nothing. Still that word serves a shudder. Frightening that we must accept our fate of doom and nothing will save us. Blackness. Just solitary Blackness…
These thoughts, Charlotte thought to herself as she lay in bed in a cold sweat, are going to be the death of me. Her skin felt sticky and it clung to the cotton of her nightgown with every toss and turn. It seemed that the more she tried to adjust the more adhesive the fabric became, like quicksand. Every rising breath was difficult.
“I have had it,” she cried out loud before stripping and flinging the sweat-soaked gown towards the opposite side of the massive bed. She laid back down and breathed a sigh of relief. The moon was radiant, peacefully suspended in its black velvet ocean of stars. The wind rustled against the tree directly in front of her open balcony and finally managed to creep into the room. That figures. The girl thought to herself sighing. It swept across her moonlit chest and her nipples hardened at the sensation. Slowly, she closed her eyes and let herself slip into dreaming, letting the wind play with her brown hair as it tickled the tops of her shoulders and sides of her delicate cheeks.

* * * * * * * * * * *

The fragrance of autumn harvest was thick in the hair, lingering on like the pertinacious sting of a wound. She breathed in utter completeness, as she had never taken in air before. Her lungs were filled to capacity and her body ached with an electrical enigma. The girl forced her eyes open to reveal a rocky landscape of aquamarine below her. She stood from a balcony, adorned with pastel curtains and Greek architecture intertwined with foliage. She stared off dumbfounded into the blue abyss, mesmerized by the vastness of the ocean and breathing in its every undulation. She startled in a panic when she heard a familiar voice from over her shoulder, which quickly tore her away from her dream state.
“Surprised to see me, Charlotte?” It was more of a statement of fact than a question, but yet the girl turned with a glassy look in her eye. She grasped for something to say, something that might hide her uncertainty.
“Of course you are. I can read your thoughts. I’m sensing confusion very strongly now.”
He approached her slowly with suave movement and confident step. The room, which she now gazed on, was absolutely lavishing. Red velvet upholstered furniture scatted everywhere while gold framed paintings line the bleached walls. There were a couple of elevated busts littering the room. One of which, Charlotte recognized as Aristotle. But perhaps the most intriguing of all was the enormous crystal chandelier hanging directly centered in the midst of the other embellishments.
He slowly walked past her, guiding his hand across the midriff of her stomach. He circled around to her left side sliding his hand across the small of her back before withdrawing. It was then that Charlotte finally realized that she was naked. She gasped, immediately, covering her areas that classified her as female. Her chest flooded over her small hand and pale arm despite her eager attempts to hide herself while her other hand fought to conceal her lower parts.
The man smiled revealing his enthusiasm. Charlotte felt her cheeks light on fire and for the first time she actually looked into his face. She thought she knew. She did. Slowly she found her will to speak.
“Mr. Devereux? Malerus Devereux?” she inquired spitefully, allowing emotion to consume her face for the first time.
The man arched an eyebrow before responding.
“I could say that you are correct,” he resumed, slowly pacing while looking down at the brick floor of the patio. “But you wouldn’t believe that any how, would you?” He stopped and looked up at her with a questioning glance.
Without giving her time to answer he spoke again
“No, You are much too intelligent to be fooled so easily. So I will tell you the truth,” he paused for a brief second while skimming her naked form with his icy eyes. Charlotte clenched her chest tighter.
“My name is Malerus Alexander. My mother was Russian royalty. She fled from her own way of life and moved to Athens with my Greek father who held high status as a diplomat. I was born there in 1047 AD. I attended the best of schools, received the best of training, and started my life as a politician under my father’s care. However, when I reached the age of twenty-five, my mother became very ill and when she finally died, my father poisoned himself with snake venom. I guess you could say life just wasn’t the same after that, so I left Greece and embarked on a journey across Europe. Mostly spending my father’s fortune on alcohol and whores until finally one night I encountered something that would turn my life in a new direction forever. I imagine you can calculate the rest of the story. Here I am, approximately alive for twenty-five years, but technically dead for over seven hundred.” He stopped. He had an almost melancholy look upon his face like that of a helpless child. Charlotte felt awkward, partly from being exposed and partly from Malerus’ story. He reached his firm hand out to catch a piece of her hair, which was fluttering in the ocean breeze.
“You look a lot like my mother,” the man remarked. “You have the same immaculate paleness to your skin and the same deep eyes. It is as if everything you feel is reflected in your face. You feel no shame for anything.”
Charlotte tried to force an insincere smile at him, but she was too irritated to feel any sympathy for anyone. He laughed inaudibly for he could see the resentment in her eyes.
The vampire let the strands of hair escape his grasp and turned away to walk into the commodious room leaving Charlotte standing on the balcony.
“You are more than welcome to stand there all night or if you prefer, you can come with me and find something to wear.”
The skeptical girl followed him into the room, being careful not to get too near to the mysteriously fascinating man.
The room was even more splendid from the interior and smelled of fresh cut lavender. There was a pleasantness that she didn’t expect to find in the home of such an execrable creature as Malerus. The paintings, she could now see, were of children and dairymaids. There were some of soldiers on horses. Your typical gallery Charlotte thought, nothing about his taste in art reflected his dark side like she had suspected.
He led her to a single door that dramatically stood out among the stucco walls and held it open for her.
“Follow the corridor. You’ll find a large room off to your left that was once the room of the lady of the house. I’m sure you will able to find something. Then we can talk.”
Slowly, Charlotte walked through the doorway wondering just what Malerus meant by “we can talk.” The last thing she wanted to do was talk. After all she wasn’t even sure how she had gotten here in the first place. Wherever here might be. The corridor was similar in design to the previous room, with paintings scattered among the walls and a steady flow of torches to light the way. There were no windows, which she found to be particularly odd, but she decided that dawdling wasn’t perhaps the best choice of action at the moment.
After what seemed like an eternity, she came to a pair of doors with horses engraved into the wood. It was as if they moved with every sway of the torch flames, coming alive. The room inside was absolutely breath taking. There were blues and pinks and greens hanging from the four posts of the giant, elegant bed. Marble statues and gold-framed mirrors guarded the adobe colored walls. There was a small balcony leading out from the right hand side of the room and it overlooked the ocean. The chandelier in the center of the ceiling illuminated every corner of space and granted the room cheerfulness.
The girl went to the corner where a cherry stained cabinet stood. She was amazed at the luxury of the fabric inside. There were all sorts of dresses, scarves, and hats. Each one uniquely exquisite, different from the one next to it. Randomly, she chose a silky gown of light blue. Slipping it over here head, she felt an instant wave of relief. Clothing, she sighed. Now that her mind was off of her nudity, she set to devising an escape plan. She could attempt to find the front door, but the hallways were dark and she knew that Malerus knew the house far better than she did. She might try a balcony escape, but she saw it would be of no avail after the twenty-foot plunge into the sea. Still, she hoped for a miracle as she walked to its edge.
There was some sort of discoloration to the stone. It seemed a bit unnatural, not your ordinary shade of rust. She extended her hand and found that the substance was moist, slimy in consistency. She brought her fingers to her mouth. She knew that taste. It was not as she expected. Blood.
Frightened, she forced herself to peep over the edge of the stone railing and there, washed up against the jagged rocks of the shore, was a lifeless corpse of a middle aged woman. Her face was pale, deprived of expression and identity. The shreds of her dress fluttered in the crests of the waves, becoming one with the mass body of water. Charlotte felt her heart contract and then expand time and time again as she found herself lost in the pitiful face of the carcass. She was dead, Charlotte knew, but it seemed as if the woman’s body was pleading in distress, as if she had been calling for days with no one to answer her desperate cries.
Charlotte had not been aware that she had been crying until a firm voice whispered into her ear.
“You should not answer her, Charlotte. She will only drain the life from you.”
At the point, she wasn’t sure how or why, but the urge for rebellion was evident. Turning and pushing Malerus aside, the frantic girl ran towards the closed door in hopes of a miraculous escape. Although she hadn’t the slightest clue where she was or how to find her way home, she knew that anything would be better than being held captive. She could almost touch the door. She could feel the handle cold and heavy in her grasp. She could hear the creaking of the massive doors yielding to her and revealing the salvation of freedom. Had she truly succeeded? She could not believe her eyes. She was standing in the corridor, but felt herself being lifted into the air and flung backwards. Suddenly again, she was twisted in the air as a puppet on a string and she heard the doors slam together with an earsplitting impact. Shortly afterwards, there was another thump. This time it was her back colliding with a solid aching. Her neck snapped back and pain instantly shot through her head. She could feel an iron door handle imbedding itself in her lower back. Then, all was quiet. No sound of iron or wind, just ocean breeze and the light tapping of feet approaching.
Her eyes were closed, for she was too afraid of what was to come next. He was angry. She wasn’t even immortal and she could sense that he was angry. Her eyes burned with fluid wanting to pour themselves out. They demanded liberty, but she knew she couldn’t let them escape. They were to be kept hidden. Her dignity was at stake. Her breaths were coming out in a shudder now. Wistfully dancing across her wind burnt lips. With each one she felt her stomach weaken. It felt as if she was going to vomit. For the first time, she truly wanted to die. She could taste a feeling of bitter resentment in the air and she knew too well that facing an angry vampire would be far worse than death.
The footsteps stopped and the girl knew that he had to be standing directly in front of her. She thought he was going to kill her. She thought he was going to turn her to the dark side. Honestly, she was not exactly sure what she thought, but she knew he had the control to do either one.
“That was a bold move, love, but I haven’t finished with you yet.” His voice carried a heavy accent. “I was hoping to be more civilized than this, but it seems I have overestimated your rationality.” Her breaths had slowed and silenced. “Open your eyes,” he commanded, staring her in the face. She struggled to disobey, but to no avail. Her eyes were not her own, they were no to be controlled any longer. She opened them slowly, allowing the tears to roll gleefully down her cheeks and to rest along the curve of her jaw. It was a sad, but yet adorable sight, making the vampire almost feel sorry for the young girl.
There was a short pause before he finally lowered her to the floor without exerting any physical force once so ever. Charlotte let out a moan of relief as she rubbed the area where the door had stiffened her back.
“Come here, girl.” The vampire ordered while turning his gaze to the open ocean. She did as she was commanded, yet reluctantly.
“Now turn around.” He demanded, facing her again. Skeptically, Charlotte turned her back to him and gripped her fists at her sides. Her back ached terribly. She thought she would collapse. Shuddering a little, she felt his hands slip under her arms and trace the curves of her waist and back. The girl felt utterly disgusting. The man was evil, he was not human, but yet he intrigued her as no man had ever done before. His immoral ways were absolutely appalling, but she found that behind every atrocity was a beckoning force, coercing her to comply. She was as helpless as the moon, striving to escape the gravitational pull of the earth.
“Is this where it hurts?” he whispered into her ear while placing his right palm on her lower back. His breath tickled her ear, sending goose bumps through her body.
Shaking, the girl mumbled a confirmation. A sudden shock of pain bolted through out her body and caused her to let out a shrill moan, but then the pain was gone. Her eyes grew wide and she rotated to see the vampire’s face. The pain was completely gone. His eyes glared fierce cobalt as he stood expressionless.
“What are you?” she panicked while slowly backing into a desk and falling on top of it. The perfume bottles tipped over and the stench diffused through the air. She sat with her pastel dress soaking up the spills of poignant scent, watching the vampire, Malerus. Her eyes squinting in question, her legs bent at the knees, dangling from the desk edge, she waited for him to approach her. And very slowly, he yielded to her growing curiosity.
“What,” he took a step towards her. “Am I? He inquired, positioning himself between her thighs as she sat on the desk. He brought his warm hand up to meet her cheek and stroked it a few times before rubbing his thumb along her pursed lips.
“I am doomed. I am cursed. I am unable to exist in this world. I am simply a nighttime horror story reiterated over the years, but yet no one knows my name. No one cares to know.” He pulled her lower lip down with his thumb, revealing the bottom row of her pearly teeth. Lethargically, she closed her eyes while her lips quivered, slightly. The vampire peered down at her celestial face. So beautiful, yet so inexperienced, he felt annoyed as he let the lip flip back up. Abruptly, he guided his hands up the outsides of her milky thighs and then back down the insides.
“I think the better question would be, what are you, Charlotte Ambrois?” he recited with a hint of irritation in his voice. He firmly grasped her hips and slid her forward until they were almost one with his own. The spellbound girl opened her eyes with a puzzled countenance conquering her already surprised face. He was a lost, destitute soul, Charlotte thought.
“You pretend to be what you are not,” he stated firmly while sliding his hands up the sides of her bare arms.
“You flash smiles and recite courtesies as you were taught in etiquette school, but that is not who you truly are. That is someone you can never be.” He slipped the thin straps down her shoulder blades to expose her supple breasts and placed his hand behind her neck. Quickly, he took the girl’s mouth to his, his tongue intertwining with her own. She closed her eyes as he pulled away to speak again.
“You long for knowledge, for something no mortal can give you. You are not like the rest of aristocratic women, who would be happy living their lives out as one with little responsibilities and an old, boring husband.” He whispered, eyes half shut, in front of her face. She could taste his saliva in her mouth once more, but this time she felt a surge of energy flow through her system. Her bones began to ache and her breaths became more deprived. She felt very weak. What was he doing? The girl’s elbows, which were supporting her upper body weight, nearly buckled and collapsed as she fell back onto the desk in an almost recumbent manner He was taking from her and she could do nothing about it and yet, this wrongfully aroused her. Charlotte had no choice but to let her head hang back completely unsupported except by the vampire’s hand placed firmly behind her neck.
“But I know exactly what you want.” Malerus said before he slid his hand down the length of the girl’s neck to her exposed chest. He grasped the right one in his hand while supporting her lower back with his left. Charlotte felt her body burn with desire. She didn’t care if it was wrong. Malerus had made her feel different than she had ever felt. Although she had potential feelings for Jacques, she knew too well that he could never satisfy her lust for knowledge as Malerus could. He could never quench her inhuman urges.
She moaned out loud as he licked the side of her neck while continuing to massage her hardened breast. It was some sort of hypnotic ecstasy, a persuasive desire.
He brought his mouth to her ear and whispered. “When you finally come to realize who you are, you will glean the reason I chose you.” And then, as quick as a butterfly’s life span, he vanished, leaving Charlotte weak and perplexed until she passed out among the clutter of empty bottles and books.

* * * * * * * * * *

She awoke, not abruptly, but subtly. It was still dark, although the moon was higher in the sky. The dream had been an odd one, indeed, especially since she knew Malerus existed. Although, perhaps, he did not look like he had in her dream at all. She had not seen him during consciousness. She glanced towards the balcony. The wind was still sweeping across the landscape outside, the leaves were still rustling outside her room, but something was definitely wrong. Her skin smelled of perfume and she could feel small remnants of pain surging through the small of her back. And then there was Blackness, suffocating blackness.