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Ch 2 of unnamed vampire storyDelilah felt dizzy, "You. . . You. . . You're a vampire." She said.
He nodded, "Every morning, noon and night. . . But especially night."
"So when you say drink you mean. . ."
He nodded, averting his gaze. To mortals he was always going to be a disgusting demonic creature, even if at heart he really wasn't so different from the rest of them, "Blood." He Whispered.
"And. . . And if I don't?" She asked, much to his surprise.
"I'll probably die here." He answered, looking about himself, "The sun's only going to get brighter." He added.
There was a long, grave silence.
"Okay, go ahead." Said Delilah.
"Pardon?" Asked Vincent, looking up in mixed shock and confusion.
"Go ahead, take what you need." She said.
"I, I don't think you understand. . ." He said, "If. . . If I slip, even a little, you. . . You could end up just like me." He said.
Delilah shrugged, "I have nothing to lose." She said.
"What about your family? You friends? A less barabric food supply?" Asked Vincent, who couldn't belie
Ch 1 of unnamed vampire storyBy: I.M. Ortal (as ridiculous and hideously corny as that may be it's essential to the story, so just go with it)
This is a story. It's not terribly long, nor is it terribly interesting, or even important. (well, not for you anyway) It is a story of love, and of survival, of lies and illusion, of passion, and of darkness, but perhaps most noticeably it is a story about a hidden race with a forbidden hunger which keeps them in the shadows, vampires. Yes, those blood-sucking creatures of the night who have become so (im)famous in the world of story telling.
The vampires i feel called to focus on today are known as Vincent and Belinda, and in order to really familiarize you with these characters I have decided to begin my story with a description of how the two beings met.
It was a cloudy and drizzly day and the being we know as Belinda now, but was still going by her birth name then, Delilah, was sitting on a swing in the local park, having walked there early in the afternoon to have som
Sara CH 3i always knew he would do it. it's why i always told you to leave. but now he's finally done it, so there's nothing more left that i can say.
there you lie, and there they found you, on the bathroom floor of the warehouse several stories below your apartment window, in that dress your husband hates. my dear Sara, you deserve so much better.
i know they've moved the body by now, so in actuality you're no longer there, but in my mind that floor will always be stained with your blood. no matter how many times they clean it, no matter how many times i try and see the floor as being clean it will always be marked with your blood. the blood of a pure and gentle soul whose only mistake was not leaving when you had the chance.
no, not really.
that's not your fault, it's mine.
i should have left when you told me to. i should have shut the window. i should have made you leave. should have dragged you away.
should have rescued you.
but i didn't.
i didn't do any of those things.
and now i'm paying
Sara CH 2anger and intoxication fill his features as he views us together; he's a ball of drunken rage.
i stopped when i heard the door open, but i couldn't get away fast enough.
he stands at the door a moment, speechless, reactionless.
you and i begin to back away, i can see your face, scared and stained with tears out of the corner of my eye, and it makes me want to tell you it's ok, you'll be alright, like i always do.
but before i get the chance he pulls the knife.
now is the time to start getting scared.
the room turns into chaos as he screams, "you dare to mess with my wife???"
of course he wants you all to himself so he can hurt you even more.
it makes me sick, and i feel i need to lecture him for this, but before i do he lunges at me, knife forward. the blade glitters as it flies through the air, i think not of myself, but of you, my dear Sara, "run, Sara!" i plead narrowly escaping the knife's fatal blow.
you move out of the way just in time and at first i believe you were g
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