The following prompter was provided;
Write a story using the following components:
1) A Blind Female Vampire
2) A Bottle of Vodka
3) A River.
Title; Blood's Lament
As the moon reaches its zenith above Chicago's
River East district, Denise de Frontiac can feel its presence. She can hear the
moonlight, smell it's radiance. But for the 53rd night in a row, she can not
see it.
She stands five foot ten inches, slight of build, her long black hair reaching
the middle of her back. Though she can not see it, every other sense tells her
she stands overlooking the river. Dressed in black to blend with the night, she
slowly gropes her way to the riverbank where she can sit to consider her
situation once again.
Has it really been one hundred and eighteen years? Was it the time that made her
careless? Or was it the man she met that evening? No, she could not possibly
become enamored with her food, for that was all he was, food. Yet, she did not
take his life when she had ample opportunity during the evening. She did not
take his life that night. She did not even take his life's blood as the dawn
approached. No, she lingered with him, beyond any time that was safe for her.
Then, before she could return to her sanctuary, she managed to catch only the
slimmest glimpse of the morning sun's light. That was enough.
Where once her eyes drank in the world, empty sockets sit serving no purpose at
all. Well, not quite empty. But what resides there is useless just the same. And
every night she goes without the ability to see, is another night closer to
being discovered. And with that discovery, she is acutely aware, her destruction
will follow.
Perhaps it was that he reminded her so much of Marcel. Marcel who could make her
laugh when she was sad. Marcel who could make her feel loved when she hated
herself. Marcel who was her dearest friend for all of her, living, life. Marcel
who was her first victim when she was changed. She never forgave Valentin for
doing that to her.
"He must be your first victim." Valentin told her. "Or you will
never be truly separated from those who live by the day."
"But I love him. I cannot do this." She cried. "I cannot!"
"You must!" He responded. "Or you can simply step back into that
grave and stay there for all eternity.
"It is the only way you can free yourself of your previous life. You must
do this if you are to step into the life of the night and be fully on your own!
It is the only way."
In the end she gave in to her hunger and took Marcel as her first victim. She
remembered the surge of power she felt as she subdued him. He fought valiantly,
yet vainly. She remembered the feeling of lust as she opened her mouth, fangs
extended, over his soft exposed throat. She remembered the ecstasy she
experienced as the warm saline flavor of his life's blood crossed her tongue
and filled her belly. She remembered the heady feeling as his life passed in her
arms and she finished devouring his soul in her bloodlust. No other victim had
ever given her such a surge, such a high since the night she took Marcel.
And now she is forced to wander the River East, among the dregs of society,
because a victim reminded her of Marcel. And remembering Marcel she let
sentimentality give her pause. He was food, and she treated him as an equal.
How could she be so foolish?
She who once strolled the Seine River by moonlight, selecting victims from among
the lonely who had lost their loves or the artists who would never appear in a
gallery, from among the young fools who came to Paris with visions of riches,
only to find reality. She, who once dined upon people of distinction, was now
reduced to this. The River East in Chicago. They called them the homeless today.
She remembers what they really are. They are derelicts; they are good for
nothing, not even food. Yet she travels among them forced to do the same as
they, ravage among the garbage to find a meal.
She feels the item she is carrying. She can feel its hard smoothness under the
irregular shape and texture of the paper bag that surrounds it. She pulls it out
and runs her hands over it. A glass bottle, about the size of a quart. She
unscrews the top and tastes the contents so she will know what to tell her next
victim.
She quickly spits it out. Vodka!
She, Denise de Frontiac, a well known patron of the Moulin Rouge, seen many
times sharing a cognac with Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, the funny little artist
who hated people, and dancing all night on the floor afterward, must now drink
the leavings of potato peels. Oh what she would give to enjoy another glass of
cognac.
The smell of male interrupts her thoughts. The breeze is light, so she can only
sense that he is somewhere close. She puts her bait back in the paper bag and
starts working her way up river to where the smell of man is taking her.
She always prefers a male victim to female. The feeling of power it yields her
is always too appetizing to pass up. She never feels the power with a female
victim. Nor when the victim is too young. No, the heady feeling of power is
always at its best with a man, especially a man in his prime. Sometimes, with a
very strong man the euphoria will last until she is in her sanctuary, bedded
down for the day.
There is, however, no euphoria among these victims found along the riverbank. It
is all she can do to gather the desire to take a victim from among these
itinerants. She takes them because she needs to. There is no desire in her. Were
it not for the dangers of allowing her hunger to go unsatiated she would not
hunt among these riffraff at all. But her hunger unfulfilled will finally lead
her to attack any human that moves within her vicinity, and such an even will be
disastrous for her. It will almost certainly mean discovery. And then the end of
her. No, she must continue take her victims from among these rejects. She has no
choice.
As she nears the man she can feel her insides begin to reel as her senses
acquire him. The smell of him assaults her. His sounds are abhorrent. Her skin
crawls at the thought of his touch. She stops for a moment and steels herself
for the coming encounter. She moves close to him slowly and softly, as if she
were just out for a stroll along the riverbank, not even aware of his presence.
She stops a mere arm's length from him. She seats herself on the bank and
pretends to stare out at the river. She can sense a barge headed up river. The
smell of the strong working class men fills her with a desire and blood lust she
hasn't felt in nearly two months. She craves the life's blood of those
hard-working, sweaty, men on the tug pushing its charge toward a port, who knows
where, on Lake Michigan. As the barge recedes from her senses she is engulfed
once again by the aroma of her intended victim.
"Tain't sharin' none-o-what's mine. Jest move on. This here's my
spot." He tells her.
She swallows hard and turns around. "I'm sorry, I did not notice you
there in the dark."
"'smy spot. Go away!" He says.
"I said I was sorry. But I have a quart of Vodka, I can make this intrusion
up to you." She says swallowing hard.
"Yew wouldtn't be snaking me wouldja?" He snaps.
"Not at all. I have a full pint of vodka. And if you've forgotten what it
is like to be a man, I can be a woman for you too." She manages to choke
out.
"I tain't been wit-o woman in so long…" he says.
"Whar's dat Vodker?" He snaps suddenly.
She holds the bottle out to him.
He snatches it away from her and quickly unstopping it. He tips his head back
taking a long pull from the bottle. When he finishes his gulp he extends the
bottle back to her. "Jew twern't lyin' isss the real stuff."
She takes the bottle from him. Now she has two reasons for not wanting to drink
the wretched liquid. Yet she needs his confidence to wrap him in her embrace.
She purses her lips and tips her head back. She allows none of the despicable
fluid to cross her tongue. She will swallow not a drop of it. She hands the
bottle back and sits close to him.
He takes another long pull from the bottle. She shrugs when he offers it to her.
So he takes another drink. The vodka is beginning to have its effect on him and
she leans close to him, feeling his body and its positions. She carefully
orients herself to him so she can make her move. Need and instinct extend her
fangs, sheer drive of willpower draws her mouth onto his exposed throat. She
almost gags at the taste of his exposed skin. She holds him firmly as she sinks
her fangs into his jugular and begins to drink his life into herself.
"Dwacha doin'?" Are his last words.
She feels his passing as she takes his life into hers. She releases her grip on
him and finishes sucking the warm saline fluid from him. She pulls herself away
from his neck quickly. She produces a kerchief and quickly wipes her mouth clean
of him. She puts the pocket kerchief away and pulls out her tool.
She carefully lays out his body on its back, then feels his face. She works her
hands up his cheeks and feels for his eye sockets. Then she feels along the side
of his face and inserts her tool. The eyeball comes out with an extended
sucking, popping sound. Then she removes the other. She then repeats the
procedure on herself and places his eyes in her sockets. She puts the useless
ones into his sockets. Having no further use for him, she rolls his lifeless
body into the river.
She searches his hovel for anything that could be of use to her. She is ready to
give up when she finds it. It is a tall bottle, a fifth she thinks, or maybe a
wine bottle. She puts it in her carry bag.
In the darkness she silently walks back to her sanctuary.
She beds herself down for yet another day in River East. When she rises again
she will know if she has found a match this night.
As the moon reaches its zenith above Chicago's River East district, Denise de
Frontiac can feel its presence. She can hear the moonlight, smell it's
radiance. But for the 54th night in a row, she can not see it.
In despair she realizes that she will have to hunt this ghetto once again.
{1,861 words}