Something Romantic
folder
Vampire › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,034
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Vampire › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,034
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Something Romantic
Greetings! Once again, I have been going through my writing/backups and the like and have found another Vampire story. I seem to be fixated on them. It needed a couple of paragraphs to round it off. So, here is a one-shot Vampire tale. (I think I was in a rather melancholy mood when this was originally written.)
Something Romantic
By
Kiix
Written December 2004
@1900 words
They think that it’s something romantic. That IT is something to be desired. They want to believe that it’s like the stories in all those books - a brotherhood...a coven...a pack. An alpha male or female leading a herd of thin beautiful people throughout the world for all eternity.
Bullshit. The gift of the blood....gift?. Ha! It simply is.
I hunt the night. I hunt alone. I kill alone and when I do encounter one of my kind...it’s not a pleasant thing. My territory is well defined and any encroachment can only be seen as a challenge. I hunger, I feed. I lust, I take. There is no questioning, or morality. I just am.
So why am I telling you this? Why haven’t I killed you already? I’m asking that question of myself as well.
Once I sat shivering in the dark, terror leaking from my pores leaving a sweetly, ammonia tinted stench, so many, many years in the past. This memory is a rose plucked from the vine today - vibrant, colourful and oh so full of life. The heart beat thundering so loud in my ears that I could barely hear my labored breathing. I was dying - and I could feel each beat pushing me toward the end.
Hush little one. Death is not something that should be feared.
My maker was old and more than ready to give up this...continuation. I don’t think that he gave much thought to his choice. There were others more suitable that I. Maybe that was what he wanted - this perversion on one such as I.
I don’t look the part of a killer at least I don’t think so. Neither do you. That is what is going to make it so deliciously wicked on my part. I guess I am more like my maker than I wanted to believe. A killer with the face of an innocent.
I have taken a life each night as is my right. 365 and an extra on leap years or if I just get horny. Well at the minimum it’s 365. I get horny a lot.
I give you my gift. I give you my territory. I give you an eternity of blood. You can always walk into the sun if you find it too much. Few have the stamina to walk alone.
Take it all. Don’t stop even if I struggle. This is the way of the new world. Take from your maker all that you need to survive.. Good girl. Make all who meet you weep at your beauty. Make all who see you, fear your thirst. Give all who seek you the peace in death that they wish.
This I give to you with my last drop. Kill well my daughter.
Something Romantic
By
Kiix
Written December 2004
@1900 words
They think that it’s something romantic. That IT is something to be desired. They want to believe that it’s like the stories in all those books - a brotherhood...a coven...a pack. An alpha male or female leading a herd of thin beautiful people throughout the world for all eternity.
Bullshit. The gift of the blood....gift?. Ha! It simply is.
I hunt the night. I hunt alone. I kill alone and when I do encounter one of my kind...it’s not a pleasant thing. My territory is well defined and any encroachment can only be seen as a challenge. I hunger, I feed. I lust, I take. There is no questioning, or morality. I just am.
So why am I telling you this? Why haven’t I killed you already? I’m asking that question of myself as well.
Once I sat shivering in the dark, terror leaking from my pores leaving a sweetly, ammonia tinted stench, so many, many years in the past. This memory is a rose plucked from the vine today - vibrant, colourful and oh so full of life. The heart beat thundering so loud in my ears that I could barely hear my labored breathing. I was dying - and I could feel each beat pushing me toward the end.
Hush little one. Death is not something that should be feared.
My maker was old and more than ready to give up this...continuation. I don’t think that he gave much thought to his choice. There were others more suitable that I. Maybe that was what he wanted - this perversion on one such as I.
I don’t look the part of a killer at least I don’t think so. Neither do you. That is what is going to make it so deliciously wicked on my part. I guess I am more like my maker than I wanted to believe. A killer with the face of an innocent.
I have taken a life each night as is my right. 365 and an extra on leap years or if I just get horny. Well at the minimum it’s 365. I get horny a lot.
I give you my gift. I give you my territory. I give you an eternity of blood. You can always walk into the sun if you find it too much. Few have the stamina to walk alone.
Take it all. Don’t stop even if I struggle. This is the way of the new world. Take from your maker all that you need to survive.. Good girl. Make all who meet you weep at your beauty. Make all who see you, fear your thirst. Give all who seek you the peace in death that they wish.
This I give to you with my last drop. Kill well my daughter.