Posts Tagged ‘nightmare’


Headstone Child

   Posted by: T-bird    in General Writing, Random Thoughts

(Halloween story from last year.)


Heaven… There’s no place on Earth that can even come close to its beauty! Ehrin knew that, and so did every other person who went there upon death. It was a shame that someone so young would find this out, but that carriage’s coach just wasn’t paying attention to the road.

It was just a typical day in paradise. She was playing with her old dog, Jester, when something started feeling wrong. It felt as though a weight had been attached to her leg, and speedily it pulled her through the cloud floor.

“JESTER!!!!” she shouted up to the dog. The dog only howled sorrowfully and watched her plummet to the Earth.

There was a sickening crunch as she landed on her back. She cried loudly and tried to move her wings. Even trying hurt. She sat up and looked back at them. They were now hanging limply, contorted.

With a sniffle, she stood up and looked at where she landed. Quickly, she recognized it as the graveyard where she had been buried… she wasn’t even sure how long it had been. Something was wrong, though. She knew this was the spot where her body lay, yet the headstone wasn’t there. There had certainly been one there!

“Ah… So THIS is Ehrin…” a deep voice laughed from behind her.

She whirled around, blonde curls bouncing on her shoulders. “Wh-who are you?” she asked.

A smile spread across the man’s lips. “Paul Hunter, m’lady,” he said, bowing deeply to her, black hair shimmering in the moonlight as dark eyes looked her over.

Her lower lip quivered. “Wh-what do you want with me?” she asked.

“Calm now, child,” he whispered. “Everything will be alright!”

“My wings! They hurt!” she whimpered.

“Don’t worry. It won’t last for long.” He draped an arm over her shoulders and led her away from the graveyard.

She tried to break away from him. “My headstone! I see it!” she cried, running toward a tiny stone leaning against the church. “I need it!”

Paul grabbed her arm. “No! You’re mine now!” he said, pulling her away. If she grabbed that tombstone, she would surely return to the afterlife. He’d already learned THAT lesson.

“LET GO!!!!” she shouted at him.

“No!” he hissed, dragging her from the graveyard. “I need you’re help, pesky brat!”

Tears began falling from her blue eyes. “B-but… Heaven! I have to go back!”

He continued to drag her away. “I have somewhere else for you to go. My bothersome sister needs to be taught a lesson, and you’re gonna help me teach it!”

She continued to cry, but to no avail, as Paul pulled her into a… motorized carriage?… and took her away from her graveyard. As she looked around at the faces of other tortured spirits, she abandoned all hope of ever returning to Heaven.

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True Nightmare

   Posted by: PoisonPen    in General Writing

The room was heavy with the scent of blood and it was clouding his mind. Solomon shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He focused on the cup in his hands, which only made his mind haze more when he caught a whiff of its substance. So, giving into temptation, he downed the blood in his glass in one gulp. As the cold liquid ran down his throat, his mind finally cleared a little, enough to notice that Victor wasn’t sitting across from him anymore. Looking around the bar, he spotted him at the counter, ordering more drinks.

Solomon watched Victor walk back to the table, and grabbed the cup before it the table. In a second, its contents was washed down his throat. “Why the rush Solomon?”

“There’s no rush, why do you ask?” Solomon licked his lips, getting the stray drops of blood into his mouth.

“Your draining your cups dry, thirsty?” Victor swirled the plasma still remaining in his cup.

“I’m a vampire, I’m entitled to this. I have the right to enjoy blood in any way I choose. It’s not like they can stop us.” He tiled his head towards the girl walking towards them. He didn’t even have to look where she was, the chains hanging from her body was indication enough.

            “A-a-are you d-d-done with that s-sir?” The girl extended her hand to except the now empty cup. Solomon took a quick look at her, the dirty rags hung off her thin body, both from mal-nutrition and blood draining.

“Silence Human, I gave you no authority to talk!” He threw the empty cup at the girl, who flinched, but wisely said nothing.

“Hmm, you seemed to be in a foul mood.” Victor signaled the girl to stay and wait for him to finish his drink, but he didn’t drink any faster.

“I’m fine Victor. I just get a little annoyed when the humans forget their place. They are food, nothing but food. Food that was unfortunately been blessed with thoughts and ideas. It is our right to remind them of what they really are; powerless in front of a true predator, a true nightmare.” There was true venom in Solomon’s words, more than enough to cause the girl to start to shake, not that he took anymore notice of her.

“Yes, I remember how easily they crumbled once we vampires rose up and took control. Indeed most humans are powerless before vampires.”

“Most? What do you mean most humans?” Solomon leaned across the table, staring down Victor, who didn’t even blink.

“Don’t you listen to the news anymore? Apparently one of the prisoners escaped from England, the first one ever.”

“First, nothing Solomon. You know as well as I that England was turned into the ultimate prison. An entire country, converted into an inescapable hell. No human who ever lands on those shores leaves, dead or alive.”

“Apparently not entirely,” Victor said, pausing to take another sip. “Apparently, this man – by the name of cross escaped from a high security hold, and fought his way off the island. There also has been no contact from any of the vampires who were stationed there. Some say they were all killed.”

“Impossible! Anyway, how did he get off the island? There are no boats, or materials to build a raft. It was constructed with that in mind; it was constructed to be prison. What could he have possibly used to get to the main land?”

“Some say that’s why he killed all the vampires on the island. They were the only resource in the island. They say he built a raft out of vampire teeth!” As he said the last line, Victor bared his teeth, flashing his two vampiric canines. They reflected the light onto the girl’s face, who had started to lean closer as Victor told the tale. Solomon noticed the slight gleam in her eyes.

            “Insolent creature!”  In a flash, Solomon was holding the girl by the neck, which he sliced in the next moment. The girl didn’t even have time to scream, just looked scared as the little blood she had left in her body drained from her. “Terror… a much better look for food like you.” Turning around, he let the girl’s body sag to the floor – where several other vampires eyed it greedily – and left the bar. Outside, the city of New York was quiet. No longer was it the city what never slept. Once the sun went down, all intelligent beings hide where ever they could. This was no longer a safe world; because now there were vampires in it.

Solomon turned in the direction of his home, ignoring the cries of Victor who tried to catch up. He was so focused on ignoring him that Solomon almost didn’t notice when Victor suddenly stopped calling after him. 

            Turing around, he expected to see victor down the pavement, but he wasn’t there. He shrugged, thinking that Victor had gone home, when he heard Victor scream. It was a bloodcurdling scream, even to a vampire. It was one of pure pain and desperation, not a noise a vampire should be making. Solomon felt his hair stand on end; something they had never done before. He ran to the alley where he thought he had heard the scream come from. His entire body was on edge, the first time in centuries, and it was that that saved him.

            By a hair, he was able to dodge the kick that had been aimed at his head.  All his instincts were active, and he was in the alley and poised to counterattack before the hairs the attackers leg had brushed had settled. The cloaked figure seemed momentarily stunned that his attack had missed, but quickly composed himself.

            Solomon didn’t waste asking what the cloaked figure wanted, it soon wouldn’t matter. Bearing his fangs, he lunged at the figure.  Whoever he was, he was highly skilled, and fought Solomon blow for blow. Soon realizing he didn’t have the upper hand, he changed his tactics. Using feints, and surprises, he was soon forcing the figure back. Then, in a moment of perfect timing, he feinted a low blow, and then flipped the hood of the cloak. Smiling wickedly, he looked into the eyes of his attacker, two brilliant blue, human eyes.

            “What?” Solomon was taken by surprise, and that was all the human needed. The human sprung forward, hitting Solomon’s jaw with a sickening crack, followed by a strong punch to his mouth. Solomon fell back into the alley, momentarily stunned. His vision was fading and his head rang out in pain, but he ignored it. He shook his head, focusing on the man in front of him. He would not lose to such a lowly creature, he would not.

            Smiling, Solomon licked his lips, and noticed that something felt off. He ran his tongue over his lips again, and realized to his horror what felt off.  He looked down the alley at the human, who was unclenching his fist, and removing one of Solomon’s fangs that had got logged between his fingers. At first the human looked puzzled, but when the realization hit him, he gazed at Solomon and grinned. The smile was not of happiness but of triumph, a look that set Solomon’s blood boiling.

            “Lowly Human, you dare defile me in such a way! Filthy creature, you are nothing compared to me!” He was almost in a total rage, his eyes glowing red and his one fang bared, ready to drink the accursed human’s blood. And that is when he caught sight of Victor. He was pinned to the alley wall, five metal rods held him fast to the ally’s side. His head was hung, his white hair covering his face, and he stank of blood. At first Solomon thought it might have been the human’s blood, but then he saw the large gashes in Victor’s arms. Victor was dead; he had bled out.

            Solomon didn’t have time to morn his friend’s death and the human had silently drawn up next to him. He was given no time to react as he was pinned to the opposite wall, with similar metal rods. He tried to break free, but couldn’t seem to move them at all. All he could do was stare as the human pulled out a dagger from his cloak, and wipe the dried blood from its blade.

            “What are you going to do, human?” Solomon still spoke with scorn in his voice, though it wasn’t as strong as before. The human barely looked up at Solomon as he rubbed the last of the dried blood off.

            “I’m returning what you stole.” His voice was calm, calculated, and steady without anger or malice.

            “What do you m-” Solomon’s sentence turned into a blood curtailing scream and the human slashed his arms. He felt his blood running down his forearms, and dropping to the ground. His question had been answered. Solomon tried once more to free himself from the roods, but that only amplified the blood flowing from his wounds.

            In a minute he started to get lightheaded, his vision once again fading, and he couldn’t shake it off this time. His breaths came out in gasps, and his body started to go cold. “What are you… who are you?” Solomon tried to piece together how he could have lost to a human, or how a human could have done the things he was seeing. But he was starting to lose consciousness, and his mind wasn’t clear enough to give him an answer.

            The human stood there for a minute, almost like he wasn’t going to answer, but then he said: “I am cross.” One answer and Solomon couldn’t tell for which question, maybe both.  It was the last though that went through his mind before he died.

            Cross surveyed his work, checking to make sure that they were both dead, and had bled out completely. Then, when he was satisfied, he left leaving no trace of himself behind. Days later, newspapers all over the world where talking about one topic: the udder massacre of the England prison, and the legend of the man who was believed to escape. It was the beginning of the era of Cross, the vampire killer. It was the era of a true nightmare: a man, a mortal man that could kill immortals.

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