A sword thrust into her side, yet she did not scream. Blood flowed unsteadily from the wound. She watched as the thick red liquid poured from her body. it indulged her, taking over her senses. Somehow she felt compelled to taste it. She allowed but one drop to fall into her mouth. It took seconds, the pure delight showed within her brilliant green eyes. She felt it flow gently down her throat. It tasted better then any sweet she had had, at least to her it did. Every moment she craved it more and more. She felt…… Starved…… A thirst for this… This blood. The sword came at her again. Quickly she jutted backward. Her long brown hair catching a gleam from the full moon, shimmered, if only momentary. Thrusting her hand forward it the swordsman. She hit him at such a speed, ripping in between his lungs. The slightest movement of her fingers and she could damage his spine. Silently she removed her hand from his corpse. It was covered in that thick beautiful red blood. She put her hand to her lips, and tasted it. It was better then her own! The body fell first to his knees then without a moments rest, fell limply into the once white snow that was beneath them. She felt some wave of emotion rush over her…was it joy? Pleasure? No…she found it exciting…
“Doctor be careful! That girl is badly wounded!” shouted a high pitched voice.
“How on earth did she sustain those wounds? Look at her! She’s covered in blood! Nurse quickly! Get me a wet cloth! Don’t just stand there gawking like a mindless drone! Hurry she’s dieing here!”
Oh! Yes doctor! Right away!” … I hear light footsteps leave the room. It sounded like tinkling bells. They came back.
“I……I a-am in……ino-k-k-ku…… Yam-mnaro……” I… I tried to tell them my name. But I can only make murmurs, So quiet that a mouse could barely hear it. It must have been audible, because they had heard me!
“Did she say she was a Yamnaro? Then she came here from Hokioka!” howled the doctor as if he had been shot. I tried to lift my head, to move my mouth, or even open my eyes, but my efforts where futile. My limbs where heavy and numb, my side ached as if on fire. With every breath it hurt more and more. Finally my body perked up. “How did she alone survive the massacre? Look, she can still move. Amazing, she should be dead or at least paralyzed from the neck down and yet… And yet she clings to her mobility. She’s like ...” He shudders hesitantly … “a vampire.” Vampire? What is a Vampire?
· Tue Mar 18, 2008 @ 03:47pm · 2 Comments