this was actually my first story ever and i haven't modified it at all >.<
oh right, i haven't reviewed yet but i'm reading some stories atm so i'll do that asap
anyways, onto the story:
cold
Her chest rose and fell under the white sheets, her brow lined with sweat as the summer’s heat radiated into the small room sparsely filled with wooden furniture. All was still in the room besides her rising and falling chest; there were no sounds but that of her breath slowly entering and passing through her parted lips.
Outside the room he stood, a pale statue to the world. He was crouched like a gargoyle on her wooden window frame, staring at her serene face. He did not blink, did not breathe, did not move. He simply balanced impossibly on the wooden bar, staring at her. His eyes were bright scarlet, set into his pale visage. His hair was black and greasy, and looked as if it had not been washed in weeks. Yet there was something strange about his face, an irrational charm or charismatic glow that made his average-looking face seem almost attractive.
After hours of staring, he sniffed the air. He could smell the dawn’s approach; soon, dew would be falling upon the grass, the cicadas would cease their nocturnal song, and the sun would break over the horizon. He grimaced, and mouthed out the words that easily could have been, “good night, my sweet.”
He then leaned backwards and fell, fell down three stories. But, like a cat, before he hit the ground, his body flipped at impossible speed and he landed on his feet. There was a dull thud when he landed, nothing more. He opened his mouth, his pointed teeth reflecting the light of the lanterns mounted on poles beside the road.
The man glanced at the ground behind him, and scowled at the sight of his shadow—or, the absence of said shadow. Maybe if he wasn’t… like this, he would have a chance with her. Maybe if he wasn’t a blood-drinking, shadowless creature of the night. Maybe if he didn’t burn with exposure to the sun’s light, her heart could belong to him. Maybe if he had a reflection in the mirror, or could be in the same room as a crucifix or clove of garlic, or…
Stop, he thought, regretting my… state… will get me nowhere.
With that thought, he leaped at inhuman speed and began his journey back home. Home... hell, more like it.
***
The next day was the same as always. He lifted the lid of his padded coffin, the hinges squeaking slightly, and he glanced around the dusty room. It could use a good cleaning, he thought absently. He had all eternity to spend in the decrepit manor, after all.
All eternity to spend in that decrepit manor. Alone.
And watching her by night, watching her say goodnight to that… horrible man. Wanting. Longing. Lusting.
He rubbed his belly, and decided it would be best to feed that night. He lethargically lifted his frame from the casket and shut it, closing the iron latches as he always did.
He walked down his spiraling, creaky staircase cloaked in dust and grime and hesitated at the door. It’s always the same.
With that thought in his head, he raced out of his home, hoping to catch some lost wanderer in the woods. He could almost taste it.
***
It was the same as always once again. He crouched in the same position at her open window, watching her sleep. Was he invisible to her? She had never once noticed the hideous stalker at her window. That was a good thing, but he couldn’t help feel lonely because of it. She didn’t even know he existed. But if she knew, then… the man would know.
The man. The one who stole her from him, the one with the holy water and the wooden stakes and the phosphorus flares… The one who could kill him.
The mere thought of the man made him growl under his breath—growl… under… no.
Her body jolted, and her eyes swung open. He covered his mouth and muffled a gasp, falling backwards out of the window. Had she seen him? he wondered as his feet hit the ground. He didn’t want to stay around to find out.
***
He shivered when he opened the casket the next dusk. It had been a close call… however, he had not been pursued or even spotted, to his knowledge. He just needed to be… more careful.
The running from the night before had drained him more than usual; he decided to stop in the woods along the way. As he stalked through the foliage, he caught the smell of warm blood. One belonged to a man; it was useless. The other, however, smelled ripe and young… the carrier was definitely a girl between fifteen and twenty. A virgin, too. That would satisfy his hunger the most. He grinned, his pointed fangs clenched together, and he darted into the trees. It’s best to stay out of the woods at night, he laughed in his head, you never know what might lurk there. People have been known to just… disappear.
He was positive that his prey was merely yards away now. He braced himself for the attack, and…
“—it was just a growling sound,” the female virgin said, “it could have been anything, but…”
He stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. His lust for blood instantly vanished, replaced with a sick feeling in his stomach.
“No. There are traces of vampire in your room. It’s quite obvious. I’m shocked I haven’t caught it before,” the man said.
He winced at the word vampire. He hated that term. It made him sound no more than… a monster.
But that was what he was after all, wasn’t it?
He rubbed his temple and backed up… but a twig snapped beneath his foot.
“What was that?” she exclaimed.
“Probably just an animal. But in the woods this time of day… Lord help us. I’m a fool…”
The trees in front of the blood-drinker’s face parted, and he saw the two standing there. He was right there, with his neatly-trimmed beard and strong face, wearing his dark blue suit and white shirt. And she stood behind the vampire hunter. Delicate, beautiful… afraid.
“Vampire!” the man growled.
The other scowled and spun around. After beginning to run, it struck him that he was perfectly safe… the hunter was unarmed, and he could easily be taken down. But… what would that make her think of him? She would see him as a monster, no doubt.
But then again, wasn’t that all he was?
***
Too many close calls, he thought, not even reaching for the maroon padding of the coffin’s lid above him, I should be more careful… but I can’t stop. Not now.
He grunted as he lifted the heavy lid with one hand. His strength was definitely sapped from all the running and lack of human blood in his system. Still, he didn’t want the same thing to happen… not again.
He exited his house, and sniffed the air. There were children out that night, he could tell. He breathed in the heavy, tart aroma of young, fresh blood and started off at the speed of a horse. Still, he was much slower than usual. He definitely needed to feed. And soon.
Then he was there. He heard their laughter not too far off… their delicious smells wafted towards him… and the children came into view. There were two boys of approximately age ten, and one girl that looked a bit younger among them. The girl shared similarity to one of the boys… they were probably brother and sister.
With one swipe of his claw, the three children were down before they could scream, before they even noticed him. Both of the male children, who had been closest to his claw at the time, instantly died. The young girl fell, staring up at him with petrified eyes, the deep gash in her stomach pouring fresh blood and saturating the white cloth of her dress, spilling into a pool around her legs…
She screamed as he leaped at her throat.
***
What am I? he thought as he wiped the drops of crimson blood from his mouth, why must I do this?
It always happened this way. The bestial hunger drove him to the kill, and then he always mourned the dead afterwards. Why did he have to have a human’s mind but an animal’s instinct? Why did he have to exist? A… vampire?
When he approached her house, he felt something wrong immediately. He leaped up to her third-story window, and peered into her room. It was empty. He stared at his surroundings: furniture had been overturned, blood soaked her sheets, and there was a clear liquid spilled all across the wooden floor. Someone had attacked her. Another vampire?
He leaped into the room without thinking, and instantly regretted it. The water burned under his fingers and feet when he landed on all fours, as if he had pressed his hands and feet directly onto burning-hot frying pans. He cried out in pain, and turned for the window. It was too late… it swung shut as he turned. It had been linked to wires… obviously a trap. How had he fallen for this so quickly? He cried out in pain, his back falling against the searing fluid. It poured into his left ear, and he felt as if the side of his face were being chewed off by some horrible animal.
“Well, well, well,” a rich, deep voice boomed from over his head, “I see you don’t have much of a taste for holy water.”
The vampire arched his back, and he saw the one who had trapped him. The hunter, obviously.
“The blood—” he hissed, “What did you… do to her?”
“Her? Afraid you won’t get your meal?” the man laughed, “it’s only animal blood, my good friend. Now, care to tell me why you visit my love so often but never drink her blood?”
He hissed in agony, the holy water tearing at his body.
“Wait. I think I know,” the hunter chuckled, “You want her.”
He laughed as the vampire on the ground hissed and shrieked.
“Well, I have this to tell you: you can’t have her. She is mine, and she loves me. And she would never love one like… you. A monster. The lot of you deserves to die.”
He screamed, but lifted his body up hesitantly. “I… know… I can’t have her,” he growled, “but you can’t either, you… pig!”
The vampire hurled himself at the hunter, but soon his body went numb, and his arms, legs, and torso felt as if they were being torn into by red-hot needles. He fell to the ground once again, flailing in the holy water.
The hunter clicked his tongue. “Uh-uh, leech. I planned this a bit more than you expected.”
The vampire stared up through tears at the hunter’s hand, gripping a lead crucifix.
“Now I will avenge the deaths of all those you have fed upon. This town will be free of vampire once more, and so will my love!”
He fell to his back, and his eyes closed. Seconds later, he felt the wooden point of a razor-sharp stake press against the flesh of his chest.
“By the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,” shouted the hunter, lifting a metal hammer up in the air, “I condemn thee to—”
“Wait!”
The stake came free of the vampire’s chest. And then… It was her.
And then memories poured into the vampire’s head, memories from a time not so long ago that seemed to be millennia ago… two years before, before he had become a creature of the night, before he had lost the right to love a human being…
***
Voices. And faces.
He remembered holding her in his arms, her warmth radiating through him… Lenore. That had been her name. But… they had been in love?
He remembered her cool voice, whispering into his ear… “Alucard…”
And then everything had become clear to him. The vampire hunter—Stephen—had been jealous for years. They had been in love… but Stephen had wanted her.
And then Alucard had been bitten—not killed—by that vampire. It was simply up to chance… but the town had proclaimed him dead.
Then… had Stephen become a hunter? Had he consoled Lenore when Alucard was gone? Had Stephen just found out that Alucard was the vampire plaguing their town?
Alucard shrieked and snapped back to reality. Lenore was curled against his chest, her tears burning upon his face.
Her neck was so close… his nostrils flared with the delicious scent… he… he…
No!
“Lenore!” he shouted. He threw his arms around her, not believing what had just happened. That was why he was so strongly in love with her.
“Don’t! He’s a monster!” Stephen yelled as he forcefully pushed Lenore out of the way. He instantly regretted it, because he had let his guard down and thrown himself upon an unhappy vampire…
Instantly, Stephen was thrown across the room. He slammed against the wall with a great bang, and sank to the floor, unconscious.
“You… you…” Lenore muttered.
“He’s alive,” Alucard said soothingly, trying his best to hide the pain that stabbed through him like a thousand knives. “And I must go, love. You cannot be with me. I am too… dangerous. You are…” he gulped, and shivered, “happy with Stephen.”
Lenore sobbed, and looked into Alucard’s eyes. “I thought…” she muttered, “…you were… dead.”
“I am.”
There was silence for a moment, and Alucard considered leaving while he still could, leaving and never returning to that town.
“Kiss me one more time, Alucard,” Lenore breathed.
Alucard gulped, but nodded. He crawled across the floor, and put his wet arms around her. She was so warm… because of the fresh blood that still flowed through her…
He pressed his lips to hers, and the world was spinning around them. His almost-still heart began to beat wildly, and he got dizzy. Still, he pulled her closer, kissing her passionately. And that was when he tasted it.
It was the most delicious thing ever… sweet yet salty, tangy and bitter… but with a coppery, metallic taste. It was hot… it was blood.
Alucard wrenched his eyes open, and saw where his fangs were placed. He was drinking from her throat.
“No!” he screamed, pushing Lenore away.
He didn’t check if she was alive. He departed, never to return again.
***
He opened the coffin padded with blue fabric and exposed his body to the chill interior of his house.
He guessed that this night would be just like the rest of them. He would hunt, and then find sleep once again. Something made him think of a time long ago… how he spent his nights… what was it that he did again? He used to live somewhere far warmer, he was sure.
The vampire shrugged and exited his home.
His prey waited.
***
