Somewhere out there in the ceaseless snow, she observed me. I could sense her, feel the chill from obsidian eyes. Which of us was the hunter, and which the hunted, I’d quite forgotten? All I knew was that she had to be mine. She just had to be!
The snow fell as swan’s feathers soft, broad, and more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. They carpeted the ground in layers of smoothest delicacy, yet with each individual flake my own struggles intensified. Whilst I sank ever deeper with each trudging step, she made not an imprint. She danced through the Christmas forest as I choked in it. But, I knew she tired. The sun was smothered by the snowfall, but soon it would be dark and she would flee no more. I had to do it whilst light remained.
I felt for the sharpened stakes that thrust from my belt. The rough wood offerring a degree of comfort, but not much, as I paused to listen to the blizzard’s song.
The word came as an iced breath on a winter’s morning. The crisp syllable frosted as it entered my ear and numbed my mind. Her single word sank into my streaming blood to freeze my very soul. She sought to unnerve me, but I stood defiant, as the air noticeably darkened.
“I shall not!” I roared.
“You must, or you will die.”
There was no bragging in those whispered words, she merely stated a fact.
I was about to launch into a tirade of abuse when something caught my eye, something incorrect. Two flakes amongst a myriad others were tinged in a crimson hue.
It was a reaction, rather than action, an instinct born of a desire to live. I snatched two of the stakes from my belt and thrust them up into the branches that overhung me. My movement was met by an avalanche of falling snow, and a cry of such anguish that only the damned could spawn. My aim had been fortunate, but true.
She fell to the floor writhing in agony. The blood she’d stolen from so many streamed from twin gaping holes in her chest to stain the snow in the crimson ink of a vampire queen. I pitied her then, as I drove in a third to finish her off.
I staggered back when the killing was done resting my back against the mighty spruce’s trunk. It wasn’t her death, nor my dealing it that had broken me, but the crying that cut through those steadily falling flakes. She had tricked me, lured me to her kind.
They slid across the snowdrifts emerging from the dusk to grieve her. As ragged an assortment of vampire gentry as you would ever see, yet dignified in their own way. Rivers of blood they cried. Torrents of loss was theirs for their queen. They honored her in their soulless way, tattered clothes billowing in the northerly wind. They wept for her, as I did the wife they stole from me. Until eventually they turned and bowed. Then pounced!
And that, my friend, is how it was done. That is how I became the King of an undead world.
And that is why I stand over you now!
(Image courtesy of DemonVlad on deviantart.com)
Where winds wail and rocks do clash
Where storms are bright and clouds do smash
Where air is still and night pitch black
My heart has gone and won’t come back
Where moon is full and shall not wain
Where tides do push and pull again
Where silence lives and words do fail
My heart does speak to no avail
Where caves are deep and reach abyss
Where rifts have slashed and trenches kissed
Where world is dead and life all spent
My heart has left to circumvent
Where heaven touches oceans far
Where light is gold just like a star
Where eyes do cast in search of she
My heart will know where it should be
In the still of the night
When breaths are joined,
And words are not required,
Nor light, nor reassurances,
Listen to those ebony depths;
Listen with all your soul,
And share the one thing
That only you both can:
Each other’s heartbeats.
Breath steams on cold run
The Robins watching us pass
With red scarves waving