Saturday, January 22, 2011

Lover of the Night, where art thou?

Lover of the night, where art thou?

Do you remember me, my love? Do you ever wake from your dreams to curse the day you abandoned me, nay you betrayed me? How I have risen so many a night, to face the moon, and detest your dastardly acts. My blood ever runs cold for you. But I loved once, your charm enticed. We played the game, seducing in return. You wanted me, the intensity unmatched in all your exploits; you pursued, your ardour beyond constraint; your temptation, sweet like love’s wine; your persistence eternal, until you gained, and I yielded my soul. In my dress of white, you stained my body red with my life’s blood.

I forgave thee when thou forsook mine heart. I rejected the idea your marriage rite had selfish motives. In my contemplation, I reasoned my need for your body, far greater than your carnal want. But you returned, not for me, but the fruits of your exertion; forgetting my part, my body used in this way, with no recourse for my rights; claiming your child, our baby: my son. He is my blood, not yours.

Then you punished, locking me away in your castle, the Hall of Tears in the Blood Forest, to leave me divest of all the very things that mattered most. Forget you do, how your bite transformed me into your wife, one of many I suppose, but bonded nonetheless. I am your body incarnate, transformed flesh to create a power greater than thou; you granted me fangs, the source of my supernatural powers; but I am more, filled with all your hate and fears, yet I fear nothing, and hate all things. You my love must fear me.

Centuries have I cursed you. Prepare now for my revenge. I have made the Blood Forest my throne, the earth my domain, and I shall destroy you to make your heart my crown. Hear me husband mine, hear my voice, tremble inside until you fail to quell your shaking. I can smell your fear, taste your apprehension, and oh, how I long to blood my fangs with your life’s wine, drained fresh from your body. In an unholy communion, I shall drink of thy blood, sup my sacrament upon thy body, for I am death and I shall help you die, my love: with me you shall not experience a greater pain, as you expire in my arms—this I promise.

Prepare for I come to thee for payment of your favours. You cannot run, except thy fate, so come, as you did once, letting this time be a dance of death—yours. I crave your demise. I will ensure you endure the punishments, my dearest one, when I scrape your skin with my fangs to carve proof of my love in your flesh. How I want to hear you scream while you suffer. Please me darling, perish from this world.

Lover of the night, where art thou?

© 2011 Suzanne Carré

(This was one of our members in my "Writer's Prompt Group" where they had to use 6 words highlighted in yellow to create a story)

1 comment:

  1. This is one of our many talented writers on Vamplit Publishing who has joined my Writer's Prompt group.

    Her piece here is nothing but superb. Please make your comments on my blog and let her know your thoughts!


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