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A creature of the pitch black night, he wanders throughout the realm of time. Under the cloak of darkness he strikes his blind prey. His movements are swift and unnoticed by the mere mortals around him. He has the strength of over a thousand men, and no mortal can pierce his blood-stained heart. He lives in the shadows of the night, and his ancient crimson blood is scorched only by the light of the sun. He hides in a sleek black coffin during the hours of the sun, awaiting his arising at sunset. He walks this earth as a damned man. A man that is the undead.
He glances around the bar in search of his prey. He sits in the shadows as he spots her. She’s talking to a man that looks twice her age. As they finish their conversation the man takes his leave, and the damned man takes his chance. Swiftly he blurs, and he appears behind the woman. She tries to sidestep him, but he’s too fast as he blocks her exit. A grim smiley appears on his face. "Come m’lady for another drink or two," he offers her. "No, thank you, sir, for your kind offer," she speaks softly as she tries to make him move. "Can I at least walk you home? It is late for a young woman, such as yourself, to have no escort home," he asks. "Thank you, Mr...?" she is surprised at his offer of being an escort. "Jekurai. Lance Jekurai. Please, feel free to call me Lance," he responds in a soft manner. "Okay Mr. Jekurai. Take me home if you wish. My home is not far from here," she rustles her pale skirt and looks up at him. His muscular frame could intimidate anyone, including herself. She was not frightened of him, however, since he had such fine manners for a man of such a nature. He was a quite handsome young man, she thought. She looked at his well-built muscles, and his manly charm. He offers her his arm to escort her out of the bar. She accepts and they quickly scurry outside to meet the fresh nighttime air. He draws up his black mare, and helps her upon his horse. He slids up behind her and grabs the reins. They begin racing into the cover of the dense forest trees. He pulls on the reins for the horse to stop, and slowly they come to a halt. "Mr. Jekurai?" There was worry in the tone of her voice. "Yes?" He questions back. "What are we doing here in the middle of the forest?" she asks as her voice quivers. "I am stopping to give my trustful steed a slight break. And to talk to you." He boldy responds. "Talk to me? About what, sir?" Her loose clothing rustles in the light breeze. "You never told me your name, ma’am." He looks at her with his keen eyes. She feels his eyes upon her skin even though she cannot see him. Her flesh seemed to burn as if she was on fire. Her breathing became rapid and shallow. His hand grabbed her chin and he sternly commanded her "Tell me your name." "My name is Brittany," she struggled to say through her breath.
His voice became strong and powerful, "Prepare to be drained of your source of life my darling. Your sweet blood will be mine." He grasped her with his strong hands and bit her throat slicing it open for him to drink. Precious blood spilled into his mouth. He sucked until he could hear the rasp of her heartbeat fade away. The blood on her dead body shone in the moonlight shining through the trees. He dragged her lifeless body and hid her under the bushes. He climbs back onto his horse and gallops through the forest towards his resting place before sunrise.
The morning sky was a soft orange and rolled pink and light purple fluffy clouds. Morning dew hung heavily on the foliage. Cricket's chirped their meloudious tune and the birds sang their own songs of the morning light. The soft breeze brushed lightly against the trees, shuffling their orange leaves to the autumn ground. Everything seemed to be alive and awake, well, except for the girl they were searching for. Slowly hours rolled by, and there were no traces of her. Finally, a young hunter followed the horse tracks through the woods to the bushes where Jekurai had concealed her. The hunter had found her lifeless body with that strange little mark on her neck. Her arms lay stretched out above her and her legs were barely bent. Her open, staring eyes were glazed with that second of terror she felt before the murderer had taken her life. Memories flashed before the hunter's eyes. The way she moved, she breathed, she worked was like watching an angel. Her joyous moods had always brought happiness to even the sadest townsperson. She helped out anyone who came to her for help or advice. She was the kindest and sweetest girl in town. Now her beautiful body lay emotionless. Now it was too late to tell her what he always wanted to tell her. He had loved this girl. He bowed his head in silence and mourned his loss. He let his tears fall and dampen the ground beneath him. Wiping away the salty tears, anger burned deep within him, boiling his hunter's blood. The news of her death quickly spread thoughout the small town. The mark of her death was examined by the local docter. He declared the wound the mark of the vampire. In a frantic frenzy, the frightened townspeople began stocking themselves up on all they could of garlic, wooden stakes, silver, and crucifixes bought from the traveling merchants coming through. Some families fled the town in terror. Above every door was staked a crucifix and garlic. By high noon, every townsperson that remained was filled with fear and prepared as best they could for sunset.
The first light of sun sank underneath the wide horizon. The young hunter, Andy, walked the woods in search of the fearsome vampire that had stolen his love away from him. His deep agonizing pain turned to blazing fury. Andy would hunt for his sweet revenge or die trying. Slowly he followed the still-visible horse tracks to the edge of the forest. Deafening silence rang through the still trees. Nothing stirred as the hunter made his way to the trees' end. He crouched low to the cold ground, waiting and watching for the vampire. He took out his silver cross necklace, and sent prayers to the heavens for dear life. He pulled out his revolver and packed the beast with specialty bullets of silver. His wooden stake belt engulfed his waistline. He cleared his mind of clouding thoughts, all except one, revenge.
Meanwhile, Jekurai rose and stretched his aching limbs. He sweetly summoned his mare. Quickly, the mare ran across the plains of his resting place to his beck and call. As she reached her master, she abruptly halted. Jekurai smiled and patted her nose and gave her a small cube of sugar. He ran his hand across her sleek black coat. He grabbed the reins and swung his leg over her back. He rode fast and hard up the arching hills, through the shallow rivers, and small thickets of trees and shrubs into town. He trotted to the church, basking in the stone structure's magnificence. He dismounted his mare, and his gaze flitted over the House of God. The light shone upon it, seemingly making the church glow white. His hand swept the church door. The golden angels engraved on it appeared to watch Jekurai as he pushed open the door. He took a deep, cleansing breath and stepped inside and closed the door. The magnifcence of the inside took his breath away. Light filtered in the large stained glass windows. The biggest alter stood in front, a crimson and gold cloth covered the middle and unlit candles were placed on it. The second side alter was an alter for offerings and was partly concealed with a blue and gold cloth. Jekurai bowed his head, heavy with thought. He send up his prayers and confessed his crime. He stood up and reluctantly walked over to the side alter. He dug through his pants' pockets to offer something decent. He hand grasped around his silver pocketwatch. He removed the watch from his attire, and held it in his hand, turning it over and over again examining every detail. The details were written in silver, the two trumpeters played heaven's tune on it and the other side was the gateway to God. He closed his eyes and looked down as he offered the pocketwatch. He walked up to the front alter when the priest entered. TO BE CONTINUED...
reign_of_blood666 · Sun Apr 06, 2008 @ 03:58am · 1 Comments |
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