Vampires - Blog Posts

Mardi Gras Ball & Baby Lu Lu fashion packs, sold separately.

who are you, Louis

more iwtv tarot.

a spark in the dark

quite literally the first thing i thought of when i saw the original

romance is (un)dead

have i played the game yet? no. do i love Astarion more than life itself? well duh. have you seen him?

love is stored in the posca heart

a silly little guy. a whimsical fella.

I walk into film class. I say, "Joel Schumacher's The Lost Boys is the greatest film ever made." I'm booed out of the room when, suddenly, I hear a voice. "No, she's right." There he stands. It's the greasy saxophone man.

Wounds of the Earth

— by xis.lanyx

living in a gothic castle surrounded by candelabras in a silk dress while my vampire lovers argue over who gets to turn me as the full moon glows in the distance is a vibe

monster that doesn’t know that it’s a monster because it’s never seen its own reflection, doesn’t understand why it’s feared. lonely creature only trying to love and be loved but it’s clumsy and doesn’t realize its power, doesn’t know it’s different. why don’t you love me. why are you scared of me. i’m just like you

@oopsprompts

You’ll understand when you’re older.

I am twice your age.

Life is a fickle thing.

One day, you’re a ten-year-old boy, playing in a park. It’s near dark, sure. You shouldn’t be there, sure. But your house is across the street, and anyone could hear you shout. Playing on rusted swings and waiting for the call from your mother to come home and have dinner, bathe, and head to bed.

But destiny, it seems, has other plans for you. Destiny, it seems, plans for the man… no, the creature… dressed in black and hiding its face to attack you. To rip open your throat and drink deep of your blood and leave your body – little more than a lifeless corpse – behind for your mother to find not long later.

Without a chance to scream, or cry, or do little more than gasp as you die.

But destiny is not finished with you; for within your fragile husk of a form a few drops of blood remain, and your heart beats still. Weak, but enough to allow a strange change to occur. The change, of course, kills you first, so as when you’re found, your ears are death to your mother’s screams, to the ambulance, to the morgue. A closed-casket funeral in a funeral home barely worth remembering.

Indeed, your body sleeps for a long while, before the curse goes to work, knitting flesh and repairing bone. Within time, you awaken, coughing up the dust that had settled into your lungs, opening your eyes in the dark, six feet underground. Screaming and crying, beating your way into the lid of your coffin until it breaks with your unholy strength.

Crawling your way through the dirt, until you find yourself in the darkened night, a ghoulish sight. A gravedigger spots you on your way, runs over to you, trying to assess the situation. His death is quick and decisive, his neck broken and his blood drained as you come to terms with the situation.

Leaving his corpse behind, you flee into the night. For thirty years, you hide from your former life, learning as you go, learning to drink as you need to survive, and finding kinship with small clans – groups of interrelated vampires who have learned to survive on the bare minimum in the modern world.

I survive.

I watched. I watched as my mother and father came to terms with their grief; indeed their love perhaps kept them both sane. Ten years later, they have another child, a daughter this time. For nineteen years I watched, kept an eye on my sister, first out of jealousy, but soon for a sense of the life I could have had. From a distance I watched as she played in the same parks, this time with my father nearby at nearly all times. I watched as she went to school, all the way from elementary to high school.

She was nineteen, and I watched from the shadows as something from a nightmare I once had returned.

She was walking alone at night, from the community college she had been going to – an easy way to save money that she could use when transferring later on. I saw it then – a creature whose form seemed a distant memory. I was a distance off, shrouded from view with both shadow and a mild illusion.

The creature to whom I owed my existence.

I had learned in my time, of the different types of vampires.

The wandering clans of vampires were the most common – survival works best in groups, after all. They fed as necessary, typically, and murdered rarely if at all. Their desire for blood was tempered with a sentiment that could probably be called humanity.

Then there are the sedentary vampires – usually loners, and in big cities, these creatures feed as sparingly as possible – but are more often killers.

Then, there are those who vampires call ghouls. They are vampires who murder with each feeding, who travel from place to place and kill as they please. Though one only needs a couple pints of blood every couple of weeks to keep going, these creatures feast and over time, become more bestial. Their fangs – which every vampire possesses, one of the few actually true legends – become elongated and larger, their other teeth fall out and are replaced with pointed hooks. Their skin becomes more and more pallid, and hair begins to fall out. They regenerate health at a rate that makes death through typical injury next to impossible, but their weaknesses are more pronounced as well.

An average vampire can go out in sunlight, but it causes weakness with overexposure, akin to heatstroke but can only be cured with blood. One who goes out for eight hours a day, sometimes called Lifers, would have to drink a pint of blood every couple of days to maintain their charade of normalcy. Lifers are notorious for turning into ghouls, because of their tendency to overfeed.

A ghoul cannot go out in sunlight for more than a couple minutes without their cells degrading and the resultant failings resulting in death.

An average vampire is capable of entering the dwellings of whomever they please – they aren’t bound by the superstitions of men, and do not require invitations.

Ghouls were cursed in ancient days to never be able to enter a home without an invitation. To do so results in madness and death.

Vampires can use their limited magical abilities to remove recent memories from the mind of a mortal, knock them unconscious, and even heal wounds to a limited degree. Making one go unnoticed by mortals took little will.

Ghouls’ magical abilities bleed from them like a noxious gas. Mortals in their presence are often paralyzed with fear.

This was clearly a ghoul, and a familiar one at that. After the initial trauma of the transformation, I had done my research. I found others like me, learned the basics of my abilities, and learned self-control. But I sought my sire – for knowledge or revenge, I had known naught. I found his trail – of a sort – after almost a half-decade.

Called by some tabloids as ‘New Jack’ – for his brutal methods of murder – he went randomly across the US killing as he pleased. I was among his casualties. I regretted my first kill – but I learned to live with it. But Jack exulted in his murders. He wandered far and wide in his kills, far enough that few even believed his existence.

But here he was.

I watched him stalking my sister, at a safe distance of almost a block and a half. But he was nearby, and I knew a vampire with his abilities would be able to cross that distance in less than a second.

I watched, as she was listening to music on her phone. I don’t think she had noticed. Then, he stopped. He lifted his head and sniffed the air like a hound. He did this for a few seconds, then darted out of sight. I couldn’t see him, so I kept an eye on my sister until she had gotten a distance away. I was about to follow at length, when I heard the guttural growl in my ear.

“Hail, kinsman…” I felt my heart stop – or rather, the illusion of it stopping in terror, because it hadn’t beaten in nearly two decades. I turned quickly, trying to bring my arm down into his neck, sever his throat quickly. Maybe it would have been enough to get away.

He caught my arm in a crossblock near-instantly, and I heard a repetitive growling noise. He was laughing. “Well met, child. It has been too long since I have had the thrill of meeting another of my kind.”

He paused for a second, “I think they try to avoid me! It’s rather disappointing, to be frank.”

He sniffed closely at me. Though I was immune to whatever magical effects the ghoul possessed, I was still paralyzed in fear. I could barely move into an almost defensive stance.

“You smell… familiar. Have we met before?”

I was at a loss for words. Perhaps it should have occurred to me that even if my life had been so thoroughly altered by his presence, he may not even be aware I existed. He had, by my count, almost four hundred kills, perhaps more, in the past two decades.

“Or perhaps I met your sire? Tell me boy, who made you? Was it a clan? Or perhaps a wanderer – or maybe a ghoul like me?”

“I – I don’t-“ I was stuttering, trying for an answer that wouldn’t reek of suspicion, but was coming up blank.

“Ah, well. What does it matter?” The ghoul chuckled. “What were you doing here, stalking my prey, boy? Or perhaps this one is yours?”

“She’s….” I composed myself. If he didn’t recognize me, this could very well be an excellent opportunity. “Yes, she’s mine. I’ve been hunting her for a long while now, and I don’t take very well to ghouls attempting to horn in on my targets.”

The ghoul raised his hands in front of his torso as if in surrender. His hands were weatherworn and long-fingernailed. “I meant no offense, child. After all, one such as I can understand and enjoy the thrill of the hunt, and know what it’s like to lose your prey to another.”

He lowered one hand and closed the other, save for the pointer finger. “But if I may… suggest a mutually beneficial decision?”

I decided to raise an eyebrow as if in skepticism. It’d work better than outright hostility. I knew it was only by chance he hadn’t already killed me. “Go on.”

“I am… hamstrung… it seems, by my state. I cannot follow her, though together, we could lure her out and feed together. After all, your vengeance would normally put you at risk of becoming like me, and we couldn’t have that. So if you draw her out, you could drink your fill, and I’ll finish the job. We both have our prey, and we both leave in peace, never to see one another again. I’ll avoid this city, for I know it is your… territory.”

My mind was racing. If I took his offer, my odds of being able to protect my sister were greater, than if I said no, and he killed me as well. But all the same there were little odds of being able to put him down without her death. And that was truly unacceptable. My family had already lost one member to this monster. I wouldn’t let them lose another, even at the cost of my own life.

“By all means, I can wait. I’ll give you two days to decide, but after that I expect an answer. After all, I can wait to feed, but an ally… those take time to make. You can find me at night in the old railcar. Don’t disappoint me.”

And with that, he was gone.

Looking around for any sign of him, I turned quickly and then fell into a kneeling position. I was hyperventilating, an odd vestige of a mortal habit, as I didn’t normally breathe.

I had very few options. So I had to decide.

My odds were slim, of being able to defeat Jack, at least not without help. The wandering clans wouldn’t help me, even if they were near enough to get within two days. While killing a ghoul is permitted, direct interference was bad form, especially if he hadn’t broken one of their laws. Speaking of magical laws, there are a couple I should probably make you aware of.

Rule the first:

No mortal can know of a magical creature, be they fae, undead, or construct. To do so is to break the veil, and is punishable by death.

Rule the second:

While mortal death is permitted, slaying another immortal outside of your niche – a fancy term for species, or specifically clan, if you are a vampire or werewolf – is punishable by death.

The second rule wasn’t much of an issue, but the first… there were only a couple was around it.

-

The next day, I dressed in a grey hoodie and sunglasses, simple garb meant to disguise my appearance and protect me – somewhat – from the sun as I followed my sister into the city. She had the day off, and was stopping in where she worked to pick up her paycheck. I had her schedule memorized, and had no intention of letting her slip away.

I followed her, listening carefully to her conversation with her friend on the phone. She was discussing a soon-to-be arriving movie. Something to do with scifi. I don’t particularly know. When she had hung up, and was in a secluded enough part of town, I swept up close to her and dropped my illusion – she would be able to notice me. I moved faster than the human eye could process to be a few feet in front of her and facing her. She stopped suddenly, as one would, I suppose, if another were to appear in front of you, and began to speak. “Are you lost, kid? Where are your parents-“

I lowered my hood and took off the cheap plastic sunglasses I was wearing underneath. I looked up at her. She gasped a little.

Though I figured my parents didn’t talk much about it, I had figured she’d known who I was. Maybe seen a few pictures of me, and had asked my parents. I had even broken into their house a couple times to see what changes they had made. For a while, they hid my existence, but eventually, they displayed my pictures openly. They had learned to cope in a way that didn’t require blocking me out. I suppose that meant I was truly dead to them.

I put a finger to my lips as if to gesture silence, but then I layered my voice with magic and said a single word. “Sleep.”

She fell unconscious and I caught her before she hit the ground. Moving quickly, I took her to a nearby place where I’d often hidden. A darkened, abandoned motel. I had figured a way in long ago, and continued to be a very capable lockpicker. Laying her on a sofa that I had once-upon-a-time rescued from a curb, I waited for her to awaken.

I lit some candles, trying to be considerate of her mortal senses. After all, most weren’t as acute as mine.

My plan was simple – I would explain the situation, that a ghoul was hunting after her and that I could only beat him with her help, or rather, her cooperation – and there was only one way I could do that.

My only option was to make her a member of the vampire race – of a sort. While the only way to become a vampire was much the same as mine – drink blood until the target is near death, and let the transformation take hold. The creation of thralls, on the other hand, was something of a different sort. Feeding a target a few drops of your blood ushers in a different transformation – making the target bonded to you, and making it so that you can ‘break the veil’ as it were.

I watched her as she slept. It was strange, but as a creature that didn’t really require sleep, save for maybe the occasional hibernation of sorts, it was cathartic. She looked like mother, dirty blonde hair, similar facial features. I looked more like father, but I was young. My hair was darker, a brown.

After a few hours, she finally stirred.

She stirred slowly, stretched, and raised herself into an upright position. She yawned, then looked around. “Where am I-?”

She looked over and saw me, sitting across from her. “So… I suppose I owe you a bit of an explanation.”

She got up and started backing away from me.

“Amelie, please, let me explain.”

“No, you’re – Richard – you’re supposed to be dead – how do you look exactly like when – I saw the pictures – I even tracked down the paper with your obituary. How are you here? Are you a… ghost?”

She almost whispered the last word as if it was the weirdest idea.

“No, I’m not a ghost. For a start, they’re kind of a bunch of assholes.”

“But you’re not… you’re not?”

“I haven’t been alive since June fourth, 1987. It’s true, I am undead.”

She seemed confused by this.

“I’m a vampire, Amelie.”

“What? But that’s impossible. Vampires don’t exist.”

“Yes, well, you were the one who was willing to assume I was a ghost. So, please, keep up and treat all breaks in reality equally.”

“So are you… gonna kill me?”

She was whispering the last bit, and I shook my head in response.

“Actually, quite the opposite. I’m but to go into details, I’m going to need you do something that you aren’t going to really like, but believe me, it’s necessary.”

I bit into my own wrist and offered it to her. She stared blankly. I shook my wrist. “Drink, girl.”

“But, won’t I become a vampire?”

“For g-“ I cough a little bit, being incapable of saying any variation on the name of… well… whatever it is,” ‘s sake, if it were that easy, I’d be dead instead right about now. Once you drink the blood, you’re going to be a part of my world, it’s true, but you’ll still age. You’ll still be able to live your life. Trust me when I say it’s better than the alternative.”

She looked into my eyes. We had the same eyes, I now realized. “If you’re lying to me, kid, and I turn into a vampire, I’m going to use whatever superpowers I get to tear you a new asshole.”

“Yes, well, if I were lying, I’d admit I’d deserve it.”

She leaned over and put her lips to the wound on my wrist and drank a couple drops. I willed the wound shut.

Wiping her lips, she looked back at me and began – “So what happens n-ah!”

She stopped gripping her head. I suppose it hurts, to have your world change like that. The transformation isn’t as extreme as one of a vampire, but she was changing. Her senses a little more acute. Her mind a little sharper.

It only took about a half an hour before she was done gripping her head and crying, which I do feel guilty for, but it was the only way to keep her alive, I told myself. When she awoke again, she ran over to the empty kitchen area, with a sink and a mirror. Looking at her reflection, she opened her mouth and looked at her teeth.

“For the love of…” I stopped, looked up, and then looked back at my sister, “Amelie, what on earth are you doing?”

“Checking for fangs, asshole.”

“I told you that I wouldn’t turn you into a vampire!”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t tell me that it would hurt like a bitch, whatever you did!”

“We didn’t have time.”

She turned back to me, apparently satisfied. “So, why did you do this now? You know my name, so I guess you’ve been following me for a while.”

“Well, yes and no…”

“Bullshit.”

I stopped and looked at her. She had pulled out a pack of gum and was unwrapping a piece.

“What – what do you mean?”

“You do the same thing my – our dad does, when he lies, I mean. You both look off into the middle-distance and fidget your hands.”

“Well… um… I,” this was awkward.

“Well, apart from you stalking us, what else have you done with your time? What’s being a vampire like, I guess?”

I shrugged. “It kinda sucks, but then again, I was only like ten when I was turned, so…”

“You don’t really look ten. I mean, sure, you look pretty close to the photos, but you’ve definitely aged a bit. You look… maybe thirteen?”

I laughed a little. “Oh, thank god, I look like I’m on the cusp of puberty. That’s a relief.”

“Vampires do age slowly until they look somewhere between late twenties, early thirties. But judging by this rate, I’m going to look like I need an adult until I’m in my eighties. Great. Just fucking great.”

“Hey, watch your fucking mouth, you little shit.”

“I’m the older brother, I should be lecturing you, little shit.”

“Yeah, well, who’s the one who’s actually been to high school?”

“Low blow.”

She continued chewing her gum and shrugged.

“All’s fair in war.”

She came back to the couch and sat down. “So, why’d you do all this? I’m guessing you had your own little weird non-interference policy until now.”

“Well, it’s the person who… who killed me. He’s back. And I need your help to kill him.”

“Why my help?”

“Well… it’s kind of because he’s after you now.”

She bolted upright. “Wait, what the fuck? Why is he after me? Is it something you did?”

I thought for a second. Maybe he had misunderstood why I was following her in the first right, and thought it would be fun to interfere.

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh, well, this is great. I have finals in a couple weeks, you know. I can’t just go around killing all my little –“

“- older,” I chimed in

“-brother’s enemies.”

At this juncture, her phone began to ring. She drew it from her jacket pocket and looked at the ID. I got a glimpse. It was David.

“Now isn’t the time to answer calls from your boyfr-“

She had already answered the phone. “Oh, hi, Davy. How’s it going?”

I could hear the other end too, but I blocked it out for the sake of her privacy.

I waited out the remainder of their conversation, listening to them talk about going to a movie on the weekend, you know, typical couple-ish stuff. Needless to say, I was sickened. After she hung up, I began again.

“Yeesh, what was that about?”

“You’ll understand when you’re older.” She winked knowingly.

“I am literally twice your age.”

“Well, all’s the same. No more interruptions.”

“I’m going to need your help to take out Jack –“

“Jack’s the one after me?”

“Well, I’ve taken to calling him Jack. He’s a ghoul, kind of like a vampire serial killer.”

“So what’s his actual name?”

“Well, I don’t know. None of the clans I’ve talked to know who he is.”

“Clans?”

“Wandering vampire families. If I could’ve gotten one of them to help, I wouldn’t have dragged you into all this. But anyway, the problem is that Jack is… well… not going to be easy to kill.”

“Well, how can you kill a vampire? Stakes?”

“Well, shoving a piece of wood would definitely hurt, but ghouls are made of stronger stuff. We’d need a couple things. A silver dagger consecrated by a priest, a holy book once owned by a saint, and probably enough ashwood stakes to shish-kebab a small army.”

“Okay, where do we get that?”

“Meet me at 1211 Harker street tonight. I don’t think that Jack is following me, but if he is, we shouldn’t stay together long.”

“1211 Harker street… isn’t that the one place belonging to that crazy old lady?”

“Well, she’s actually a nature spirit, a member of the fae. Kind of lucky to have her around, really.”

“Any other surprising revelations for me?”

“Yeah, the president is a moleperson.”

“What? Really?”

“No, I just don’t like him.”

Ash watched the target closely as he went into the bar. She stood on the roof of the four-story office-building across the street, hidden in the dark of the night. She was dressed practically, in simple clothing – black jeans, a dark grey t-shirt, a leather jacket – her purple hair tied back behind her head. At her feet was a black biker’s helmet. At her right ear was a Bluetooth earpiece.

She needed neither binoculars nor night-vision to see clearly in the night; she was Damphyr, the child of one afflicted with vampirism. Beings without most of their progenitors’ strengths, but the few gifts they possess by comparison makes them far greater than humans. Durability, speed and enhanced senses are their hallmark, but the gifts come at a cost. The cost of human blood. A Damphyr can survive on the blood of animals for a time, but they are required to drink the blood of a living human with disturbing and increasing frequency.

For now, she needed only once a month or so. But as her years of life wore on into centuries she would need to feed weekly or even daily. She pondered this as she watched the bar.

“Ash!” buzzed her earpiece. Focusing back in to the present, she barked an answer to the microphone on her lapel. “What, Vesh?”

Vesh responded, “I can see you from here. Stop zoning out! We need you to watch the door. If the target is meeting one of the nine, we’ll need to be able to act at a moment’s notice. You’re our surveillance.”

“If you wanted surveillance, you should have gotten a van,” Ash cracked.

“Who needs a van when you have the sharpest eyes this side of the globe?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Ash quipped, as she noticed something off with the bar. The sounds of violence were emanating from within, which would not have troubled her unduly were it not for the scent. Her sense of smell was arguably her weakest, but there are some scents she could never miss. The scent of blood, the scent of a damphyr, and, strongest of all, the scent of a vampire.

Vampires are rare creatures; few in number and rare to reproduce. They make up for it in unholy might; a single vampire could lay waste to a small city in a single night. But they tend to occupy their time with petty power struggles between each other and attempts to control large swathes of territory. Their servants, known as Revenants, were humans vested with some of their power. Weaker still than even damphyr, Revenants were slow to age and stronger than mortals.

But the scent of a vampire was what Ash smelled now. How she had missed it for so long was beyond her, but it was clear now. The smell was difficult to define – somewhere between a rotting corpse and a rose, soaked in blood. A smell of beautiful decay.

“Vesh, we need to move. Now.”

“Got it. I’ll get the back entrance. You cover the front.”

“Got it.”

Ash jumped from her perch, flipping from headfirst to a pencil dive and landing on the pavement, cracking it. She was unharmed by the tumble, she got up and charged the door as a man was thrown bodily from the window. Or rather, a corpse. Its head was twisted and nearly torn off, a look of agony on its face. Its limbs were twisted as if it had been tortured, but knowing what lay inside, she understood that it had happened within seconds.

She took a second to spit on the corpse. A fool who had been bargaining with a vampire for extended life. But the artifact that he had found was too powerful. His contact with it made him a liability, not an ally.

She charged the door, knocking it off of its hinges. Inside, an unwelcome sight greeted her. Revenants, a dozen of them, were feasting on the corpses of the erstwhile bar-goers. A couple were holding onto the bouncer by the arms, one drinking from his carotid and another on the opposite side, who had chewed through to his aorta.

They all looked up at her, with bestial glares. Damphyr blood was poison to them, but they were bound to their master’s will, and would be more than happy to kill her.

She reached into her coat and pulled out a long dagger – something caught between shortsword and knife in size, but finely wrought all the same, of some strange, silvery metal. She whispered the invocation. “Carnwennan, feoht for mec, innan thone ciegnes Arthorius.”

The blade sheathed itself in shadow, its magic enhancing her accuracy, speed and strength.

Moving faster than the creatures could even fathom, she had already drove the dagger through three of the creatures’ chests, piercing their hearts before they could even draw breath. “Eallgrene sealt adfyr.”

Green flame ripped its way through the creatures anew, burning their flesh and reducing them to ash faster than should have been physically faster. Continuing, she made quick work of the others, and had destroyed the bodies of those who had died. Little evidence remained, and the magical fire did not burn the objects in the room. She breathed, for the first time since entering the place. “You alright?” asked Vesh, through the earpiece.

“…Yes.”

“Good. Nothing on my end. I’ll meet up with you at the basement doors.”

They had gone through the blueprints for the building before the strike. There was a basement, prohibition era, that led down into the sewer. They had guessed the vampire would use this route to escape after putting down the ‘livestock’.

She went over to behind the bar, went into the backroom, and took the short hallway to the back room, where she Vesh was waiting.

Vesh wasn’t damphyr, nor was she human. She was a Nephilim, the long-lost bloodline of angels. Moreover, her bloodline was the (in)direct descent from King (well, queen, but that’s another story) Arthur. She wasn’t all that much stronger than a normal human, until the bloodline was used in conjunction with an Arthurian one. Ash’s weapon was one, the bloodline only enhancing the weapon’s traits, not granting ones on their own.

But Vesh was more powerful in her own way. For she wielded two weapons – Rhongomiant, an ancient spear, and Clarent, the coward’s blade. With their power, she could take down many opponents with little effort – but at a cost. The two could only be wielded in conjunction for a short time, or she would burn up.

Vesh was breathing heavily, her sword sheathed and her spear at her back. “You okay?” asked the (suitably) concerned Ash.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“There’s no shame in turning back,” warned Ash.

“Yes, there is.”

“Okay, only a little,” conceded Ash.

“I’m not going to sit back and let you hog all the glory. Here,” said Vesh, holding out a thermos.

“I’m not thirsty,” protested Ash.

“Yeah, you are.” Said Vesh, gesturing with the thermos. “You didn’t’ have any blood at breakfast, and I’ve been keeping eye on your little freezer down in the basement. You haven’t touched it in going on a week and a half. Drink.”

Ash could smell the blood, and hunger snarled deep within her stomach. But at the same time, a foul disgust was creeping through her. “No.”

“You’ve got to drink sometime. Please. You need it.”

Vesh hold the thermos close to Ash’s face.

“I said no, damn it!” Ash shouted, batting the thermos out of Vesh’s hand and to the ground. Warmed blood spilled across the ground.

Vesh became more concerned. “Ash…”

Ash was stumbling away from the spilled blood, retching at the smell, reaching a corner and throwing up blackened bile. “We need to follow the vampire.” She coughed out, between dry heaves.

“You’re in no condition to fight a vampire. We can turn back – we can get more…”

Ash shook her head. “Don’t say it.”

“Damn it, Ash. You need to drink. You don’t think I’ve noticed you? You don’t sleep anymore. You can barely get down food, and blood… you barely touch it unless you’re desperate. This isn’t healthy. I’m here for you.”

Ash shook her head. “We have to go on. I know… I know this vampire.”

“What? You can differentiate between vampiric bloodlines now? Are… are you certain?”

“I know this one well. This one is…” she trailed off, and began to make her way down the stairs.

--- A Year and a Half Prior ---

Ash was chained to the floor of the cell, her interrogator standing above her. Throwing down a lukewarm blood transfusion bag, he kicked her in the stomach. “Drink, half-blood.”

“F… fuck you…”

He kneeled down, grabbing her by the back of the head, and held her mouth open. Kicking the bloodbag aside, causing it to leak across the ground towards the drain in the center of the room, he gestured to the door. A man stepped in, carrying with him a bound and gagged teenage boy. The boy kicked and screamed as he was dragged into the room. The man carrying him drew a wicked-looking hunting knife, and drew it across the boy’s throat in a swift, decisive motion. The boy was gurgling his last breaths as blood poured from the wound. The interrogator turned Ash’s face up as the other man put the boy’s throat to her open lips, blood pouring into her mouth, her nose, most spilling but some she felt going down her throat.

--- Present Day ---

They were making their way down the stairs in sullen silence when they heard it. The scratching, the skittering, the sound of rats, moving around them in the dark. Ash closed her eyes, her breathing becoming ragged. Vesh took the lead, and motioned for Ash to sit down for a moment. She whispered in her ear. “I’ll be back in just a few seconds. Wait.”

The sounds of blades being drawn and of the screeching of rats. Finally, Ash heard the words, “Eallgrene sealt adfyr.” A bright flash of green, and nothing else. “You can open your eyes now.”

They continued on their way.

--- A Year and a Half Prior ---

Ash was blindfolded as she was led into the room and tied to the chair. It was a cold, study thing of wood. Chained at the ankles and the wrists, weakened from blood deprivation, she struggled against the chains until she was exhausted. She heard him, chuckling and chiding. “Is the little girl tired? Poor little girl…”

“Maybe the girl needs some friends. Yes, maybe some furry friends.”

She heard the sound of blade against sheath as he drew a knife, and felt it as he drew thick lines every few inches down her wrist and thigh. Blood slicked her skin as he stepped back, and whistled.

It was then she heard them. Skittering across the rafters, across the floor. Ash felt it as they fell onto her body, and tried to throw them off, but they kept piling on. She screamed as they bit into her flesh. She screamed and the man laughed.

--- Present Day ---

The hallway was sparsely lit with dangling, electric lights as they continued on their way. The form of the hallway was made of brick and wood, with a floor of cement. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?” asked Vesh.

“I’m fine,” responded Ash, a little too quickly, having been waiting for the question.

“Ash… for gods’ sakes…”

Ash drew Carnwennan, and began the invocation again. The blade sheathed itself in shadow. “I’m fine.”

They reached the end of the hallway, and they saw it.

Sitting in the center of the room was a finely-wrought silver casket, surrounded on all sides by human bodies, blood splattered against the walls. Not catching her breath in time, Ash smelled the blood, assailing from all sides. Gagging, she began the purification invocation to cleanse the room with fire. “Eallgrene sealt adfyr.”

The room flashed green as fire consumed the corpses, leaving ash behind.

“What is this thing?” said Vesh, looking at the coffin.

“An artifact of great power, so they say. The coffin of the progenitors. Capable of bringing a vampire to an almost godlike state.”

“And capable of purifying the blood of a damphyr, my pet,” came a voice from the shadows.

They turned. Ash gasped. “You… you’re dead. I killed you…”

The interrogator stepped forward. “Only a spear of ash and silver can kill a vampire, as you well know.”

Gesturing to a stitched-shut scar around his throat, he laughed. “All you did was offend my vanity.”

He walked forward, touching the coffin with an outstretched arm. “You hurt me, running away like you did. All I wanted was what’s best for you, after all, little cousin.”

He held out his open arms to Ash. “Come to me, pet, I will take you with me and make you my immortal lover.”

Ash held Carnwennan at the ready, taking a step back. Her stance was nearly broken by her shaking.

“Come here, girl, I will hurt you no longer.”

Vesh stepped forward. “Enough.”

Drawing spear and sword, spear at the ready stance, sword ready to guard against blows, Vesh charged, speed and strength enhanced by the magic. The man just jumped out of the way.

“You’ll have to try harder than that to kill me, child. I am a vampire, not some weak-blooded mockery or halfblood pretender.”

Vesh struck with speed and strength, with each strike gaining more momentum and hitting faster. She felt her muscles burn as she fought him, but he dodged each blow with almost nonchalant ease. Growing tired of this, he grabbed the spear by the shaft and struck quickly, knocking the sword aside and biting deeply into her forearm. Vesh let out a cry of pain, as he threw her backwards.

Ash couldn’t stand still anymore. Half frozen in fear while Vesh struck, she steeled herself and struck. The interrogator laughed. “You can’t harm me any more now than you could then, girl.”

Before she could strike his flesh he dodged under the blow and slammed into her, sending her flying across the room, landing next to Vesh.

He crossed the room to where Ash lay, and grabbed her by the throat. “Your blood will fuel my power,” he said, biting into her throat. She felt herself being drained. After a couple moments, he pulled away, lips slick with blood.

“Watch, now, as I ascend to godhood,” he stated, wiping off his lips, opening the coffin. Inside was black velvet. Ripping off his shirt, he lied back into the coffin as the lid closed automatically.

A hissing sound like hydraulic sealing could be heard as the coffin closed.

“Ash,” said Vesh, trying to get closer to her, coughing up blood from broken ribs, unable to move her legs. Ash lay unconscious. Vesh took her wounded arm and put it over Ash’s lips, letting blood drip into her mouth. Still not conscious, Ash’s mouth instinctively bit into Vesh’s arm, draining blood. Vesh grimaced against the pain, but it was not in vain.

Ash awoke, her body repairing itself faster for the blood. She felt a surge of power from her blood, from Vesh’s blood, as Vesh faded out of consciousness.

The coffin opened just as Ash arose, holding Carnwennan and Clarent at the ready. The blood of Arthur she had drunk felt like fire rising in her veins as she spoke in the old tongue. “Cier asprungennes, Vampire.”

Her enemy had changed. Like some monstrous bat, his features had twisted into a vile mockery of the living. His fangs had grown and his teeth grown sharp. He growled.

They did battle, moving faster than sound, booms echoing off the halls. She dodged blow after blow, dealing small wounds bit by bit. Eventually, he failed – mis-stepping, he was impaled on the blades.

“This cannot kill me, whelp. I will return to hunt you. I will return to end you.”

“I know,” said Ash. “But next time, I will not hesitate. In the meantime, let’s see how well you can reform from my namesake. Eallgrene sealt adfyr.”

Flames engulfed him as he screamed in agony, burning as Ash gathered the weapons, picked up Vesh, and began to return up the stairs.

Story Shard 543

You know what I want? I want a Bad Ass Female Super Hero who is afraid of something small and cliche, like bugs or mice, but whose compatriots don’t make fun of her for it. They just step up and take care of the things she can’t. And her fear does not make her any less bad ass it just makes her human.

Me core edit but I can’t edit and basically gave up halfway through

All I wanna do is write about gay vampires and it's ruining meee

HE'S SO EDIBLE

Kakashi as a Skyrim vampire because I can (idgaf if there are any mistakes 💅)

genuinely one of my favourite details about Bram Stokers Dracula that isn't really transferred to the pop culture is that vampires have irridescent eyes, they appear brown at a glance, however when light is reflected on them they seem to go red!

Nosferatu is so blatant and unsubtle in its depiction of a vampire attack as being analogous to sexual assault, and there will still be people saying ‘you guys are intellectually lazy and Weird for saying so’. alright well he attacks his victim in the night, in bed or summoned from their beds against their will, and they wake up bloody with their clothes torn off, feeling violated. Nosferatu climbs on top of Thomas in bed and assaults him. even later, when they know they’re dealing with a monster or demon, he tries to tell Ellen and can’t, because it’s ‘too foul’. and people claiming Ellen summoned Orlok ‘accidentally on purpose’ is borderline offensive to be honest. she was a child - praying - and she said ‘God, an angel, a spirit, please, anything, comfort me’ - she obviously wasn’t thinking to the dark end of what ‘anything’ could encompass, and the film definitely isn’t about her taking ‘responsibility’ for a problem she ‘created’. in what world is Eternal Evil this girl’s fault in the first place.

Prompt #97

You are friends with two werewolves and a vampire. Somehow, your friends still don’t know that you know that they aren’t human. They also don’t know that you aren’t really human yourself.

Prompt #7

You (a normal human kid) have been adopted by a vampire.

Prompt #4:

You live in a world full of monsters. Vampires, Ghuls, Were-people, Shapeshifters, Yetis and other creatures are all normal in this world. And every monster thinks, that humans are extinct.

However you have a secret, that you keep from your friends: You are not really a vampire, you‘re one of the last living human beings.

How are you gonna complain that Nosferatu was too sexual as if Gothic literature didn't originate from social rebellion? As if Bram Stoker's novel didn't have sexual undertones? As if Nosferatu didn't have sexual undertones already? I understand if you didn't expect such upfront sexuality, but don't hate on the movie for it. If it's not for you, that's okay! Taboo topics aren't for everyone; Just remember that Gothic literature is meant to be taboo. A social rebellion. Expressing the dark, barbaric, animalistic, and shunned aspects of human nature. I haven't watched the film YET; But I have taken a course SPECIFICALLY on Gothic literature {and passed}, read Bram Stoker's Dracula, watched both original Nosferatu's multiple times, and immersed myself in Gothic literature for a while now. Gothic horror IS sexual in its essence. It's grotesque and disgusting. Revolting and shameful. That's the point. It's also sensual, emotional, despondent, and FULL of metaphors. It’s EROTIC. If the genre isn't for you, or if certain aspects aren't for you, that's okay. Everyone has their limits, everyone deserves their boundaries.

Vampires blood drink by hotdogs🌭 🩸💉

We just moved into a new house that has zero mirrors in it due to having needed to work on the bathrooms before the place was livable reasons, and not seeing my reflection for a week has made me reprioritize 'vampires don't show in mirrors' on my list of correct and good vampire traits.

I've always like vampires not showing in stuff, but it now feels necessary to the monster.

-Not seeing yourself has a depersonalizing effect that belongs in narratives concerned with othering.

-If i want to look nice at the moment, I have to trust my partner to make me up. Finding a second vampire is both threat and boon at every level.

-clinging to a selfie or portrait painting from when you were alive as a way to recognize and remember who you are, and slowly coming to recognize the image as a fully different being, someone who's dead.

It's not like people concerned with vampires don't play in this space, but, alongside sunlight, this often feels like one of the things jettisoned early. Especially in today's surveillance state, where it's Easy to lose control of one's image, that feels like a misstep.

did I cook 👩‍🦲

day four vampires!!

not my best work, might redrew it again

But what if we combine Mermay and Maynananggal?

Behold, a stingray mermaynananggal 🧜‍♀️🦇

American occupation era Philippines but our girlie here is secretly a vampire hunter at a fancy party looking for her target 🦇🧛‍♂️🌴