Forgive me for not writing for some time. Due to some kids playing with a tennis ball that ended up whacking me in the eye some days ago, nearly injuring my cornea but fortunately avoiding my line of vision (to quote my doctor). Fortunately, my eye's on the mend, thanks to God's healing hand, prayers…and antibiotic eye drops.
So, allow me to add another chapter to "Ritual"…
P.S. This one's for "The Unrequited Lover".
Over the years, Dracula learnt a great many things in his damning immortality. But there was one he NEVER forgot: Women can be temperamental.
Understatement…He mused wryly as he uttered the one word that sent HIS woman into yet another fury:
"Checkmate."
Shirra's small but strong, pale hand smashed down onto the oak table, nearly causing the chess pieces to fall from their positions, as she uttered a Bavarian curse. Opposite the table, cool as Winter, was her lord and sire, Vladisalus Dragulia, looking very amused at her reaction. She had many buttons that when pushed, could send her into various furies that even Hell would fear.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…or in this case, a woman who lost a game of chess again…
Thought Dracula, paraphrasing the bard's immortal words. To be honest, this was getting to be quite a ritual with them both nowadays.
"Practice makes perfect, my dear. Its like Life really, you learn as you go."
Unfortunately, Shirra was in no mood to listen. Said mood was as black as her attire. Her lily-white neck was harshly contrasted with an ebony colored choker consisting of lace, leather and barbed wire (!) made to resemble a cluster of roses, while her immortal form was clothed in a strapless laced-up bodice and long, flowing skirt that resembled a raven's plumage. Her arms too, were covered in black Venetian lace gloves that half covered her fingers, which were now clenched in beginner's frustration.
"Forget it,"
She hissed, throwing up her hands in exasperation as she got up to leave.
"Oh no, you're not,"
Interrupted Dracula, grabbing her forearm, gently pushing her back down into her seat.
"You're not giving up so soon-
"The real reason you don't want me to quit is because YOU enjoy watching me suffer…"
She growled.
Dracula just smiled disarmingly as he started a new game. She wasn't exactly wrong, but why let her know she was right?
"Your move, my love."
Shirra's temperament had changed drastically from the past hour. She had changed from an unwilling player to a now fierce and determined one. And Dracula wasn't about to complain.
Unlike Dracula's cool and calculated moves, fiery little Shirra often rushed into matters, seldom thinking of the consequences, hence her downfall, especially in chess.
"Checkmate."
Dracula announced, looking his opponent straight in the eye. To his utmost surprise, Shirra was not in a rage, nor was she resigned. There was an uncharacteristically predatory smile on her lips.
"Shirra?"
In a split second, Shirra threw herself upon the love of her (after) life and opponent in chess, knocking down the chess pieces as she did, her cold yet smooth lips meeting her sire's equally icy lips in an immortal heartbeat. However, she parted all too soon. Before Dracula could snarl in protest, she smiled wickedly and replied,
"Checkmate."
Before continuing her kiss.
Touché, my dear…'twas an unexpected move…a cheating move, but a good one nonetheless…Thought Dracula archly as he entwined one hand through his wife's licorice-chocolate colored waves, the other round her waist while deepening the kiss.
If this was what was going to happen every time they played chess, well…they were certainly going to do so everyday…
(END)