Just a random dreamscape I came up with early in the morning while listening to music. For my readers who are waiting for the next installments of my Joker story as well as Dracula, I'm afraid there's going to be more patience than required. I'm on major lack of inspiration, this was just a bout of it that I needed to write. I'm swarmed with projects, research papers, and piles of homework in other classes that it's driving me insane. For Juniors taking loads of AP classes, you'd understand. Hope you enjoy the read, I'm sorry it was short.
He could taste it in her limping step, the curling wisp of darkness strangling her naivety to the extent of desperation in this girl's innermost desires. He could feel it in her essence. She sought his presence more than a master of slavery craving that next whip directed into the naked back of his diligent peasant. But, most of all, he could see the longing in her eyes. She stepped in routine: left, left, right, left, right, right, continuing to move forward but always looking back. The spectacle amused him, how little struggles every day drove her to a lifeless gait on the dirty cobblestoned street. Broken, at last. Dracula had been watching her for months now—for certainly he knew every motive in each step she took onwards. When his brides' bodies no longer contained the lustful warmth only hours before his nightly flight, he dwelled in the streets of Vaseria… watching her. It wouldn't surprise him how much he knew her than even herself from the first time she called. The stars twinkled above his head, winking ever so closely at the sight of death approaching his fair maiden of doom.
"Come out... wherever you are." She whispered this to herself delicately, a meek call for help that will never arrive when the time came. He took a step on the cobble, enough to make the signaling rustle overturning the swish of a dilapidated dress.
Tonight the waiting would end.
An ignorant smile painted in covert motivation forced her to turn around. She was too weak to walk anymore. Torn dress flustered around her body as she lay on the ground, Dracula stepped closer again, his frosted eyes the only speck of color shining through cave black darkness. She began to tremble in the reduced space he closed in on, fully aware of the excess blood remaining on her wounded body.
"You've come… at last." The girl shook from the deathly chill of his presence, but remained to tilt her head back as if the wanton tension wasn't enough to throw her into nirvana. His eyes continued to pierce through a malevolent threat, making sure the captivation factor was enough to stop her from any sign of movement though her body refused to push forward anymore.
"You are foolish to seek me, human. I can see the fear leaking out of your pores, a disrupted calmness falling away under your temperance. Everything you've ever hidden has been revealed to me in the past month you call to stand in my waking step, fully alive. But you aren't fully alive now, are you?" She made an effort to get closer; her feet dragged a steady pace behind, ravaged with cuts and open wounds only a beast could have inflicted. Dracula's thirst was trained well, even though the constant itch was there. He remained in control.
Another footstep towards her echoed off the cobblestone.
Bending down a breathe away from her own; he grasped her bloodstained hair in his hands as he smelt her life essence. And with the other brushed against the beating organ inside her chest, she whispered the most coherent words she could muster, "There is nothing left in this body to beat, to function. I'm dying, can't you see?" Her laugh rung out like the lash of gunshot into an unprepared body. "That is why I have been calling out to you. Disease has stricken me ill for the past months I've lived in solitude. Death is the only person to greet at this hour and here he waits!"
Dracula's hand moved downwards from her chest, slowly passing over the folds of her dress until it rested on the rotting center of disease coursing through her body. The shock of his touch thrilled through her without warning—it was as if the touch of death injected heroin with every minute of its need.
"And what about your so-called heaven?" The girl was of a desperation unknown to him. Who would wish for an immortal life in the darkness he spawned out of without being forced? Was there an act so horrific, so murderous she committed by her own hands to turn her over to immortality? The highest significance truth be told was… that he didn't care at all. Ignorance is learned at best through the mistake of death, and death is what he will give her.
"Heaven could never accept a sinful woman like me." She choked. Her breathing wheezed through, overly desirous hands grasping the Prince of Darkness's shoulders as a lifeline to the undead.
"Then so be it." He thrummed his fingers over her neck, lowering until her pulse could have killed her before he did. Her golden hair disappeared under his arm, her apple-red lips invisible against his own. Dracula's mouth moved downwards before covetousness drove him into claiming a body he did not aspire to taint. "Close your eyes."
The emeralds fluttered to a final shut, awaiting an afterlife she's only dreamed of.
That last breath before he plunged was when he made his choice. And then, all was the euphoria of crimson. She cried out with the happiest of screams to his delight, gripping tight to his body so very closely pressed against her purity. He drank for minutes on end, nothing but the ecstasy of taking a life in his grasp. Her smooth hand, beautiful in a reflecting marble of moonlight but stained in blood, began to slip away. Her life source, only a dim glimmer through that last puff of air, died away with the rest of her body. Dracula continued to hold her as he pulled away, knowing so well what a deed he bestowed on her.
"Go to your own heaven then, life and the afterlife itself would have to been too cruel a curse to afflict your innocence."
She was finally put to flight, in her own immortal afterlife.
