Lacy
Chapter 1
In death I remembered it perfectly, standing by my mother's bed side as she lay dying. Her battle with cancer was over; she had stopped wheezing like donkey. The nurse trying to comfort me, but all I'm hearing is buzzing, and then a slow beep repeated over and over again. My mum now a body under a clean white sheet, being transported to the morgue consequently another nameless body to those who work down in realms of loss, murky and despair. The funeral, no-one can explain, a certain oddness which had the sense of passing away in the air, everyone looking sadden, discouraged and dejected. Anyone who knew me, warned me about burying anyone there and yet I went along with it. The legends and myths couldn't have been true I thought than, but I now know they were true. My last moments I spent thinking of my mum, otherwise that stupid, moronic legend that caused my death. I remembered the legend, if you visit a grave at St. Johns cemetery for longer than 30 minutes than you get killed by a mysterious monster they say. But strangely I didn't care I just found out I was going to suffer like my mother did but with lung cancer. I have never touched a cigarette in my life well life was just unfair. I went to see my mother for advice.
Me, a young slightly deformed boy stood by his mother's grave wondering about her, the legend in the murky eerie cemetery. The small and shy boy saw an ultra quick movement; he saw the pale-faced, blood thirsty monster appear. The fear so much he too was vampire pale. He ran as quick as he could, attempting to out run a vampire. Unfortunely for him he didn't. The marble monster appeared in front of him, he couldn't move from fear. The blood he once cherished now gone as the vampire pulled back with a shudder and sank his fangs in my cold clammy neck. That young slightly deformed boy (me) at this moment is a ghostly bloodless body on the cold damp floor, waiting for anyone anything to find it. Waiting patiently. I thought I was dead than I was awake...
The monster appeared in front of me, as I lay in HER (!) arms, you could hear her tearless sobs as she kept repeating one word : sorry. It was then she realised I was awake, with a sudden thump on the damp, dank floor she ran off. The fire in my throat burned like Hades was shoving a white hot iron stick down it; this made it impossible for me to even move. As I lay there waiting for it to go away I could see her peeking around a grave, wall or anything, just staring at me. Eventually she came round and did the most amazing; she slashed at her wrist with a glittering steel knife and let me drink her sweet, wine flavoured blood. Only then did the burning disappear, I knew what I was then. I was a vampire, a deceitful blood thirsty evil condemned creature who deserved to meet Hades in the eyes. Lacy, such a beautiful name, gracefully rolling of your tongue like cream on a strawberry, her eyes a sparkling blue like the sea only to contrast to the deep, mysterious dark purple with a black and blood red lacing on the simple yet understated dress she wore and the old English riding boots she wore told me she liked to walk in.
Lacy got me to stand up as best as I could (which was swaying). After stumbling every few seconds from nervousness we got to her home, which was sadly a grave too. Once Lacy had pressed the L on the grave, the ground seemed to unroll beneath us and slick metal stairs appeared for us to go down. The cave as Lacy calls it was decorated with deep purples and blacks that made the room