|
|
|
Everlasting |
| Written by Sneh Srivastava | |
| Tuesday, 01 April 2008 | |
|
Share it:      The words were whispered, barely audible and hardly comprehensive but he understood. He understood this, just as he understood why that usually confident young man was standing before him, shuddering and shaking, and why the man's lovely young wife was lying sprawled on the ground. Her eyes were closed in a serene fashion, but her features seemed troubled, and that in turn troubled Davie. "You didn't hurt her, did you?" "No. You know I couldn't. Not to my Annie. Not to her." Davie nodded, surveying the body. He had never liked when the job was done brutally. It was meant to be a graceful thing, a swift, sudden act that muted the heartbeat and paused the flow of blood as it made its last journey from the very tips of the toes to the most uppermost section of the brain. He knew, however, that the process had not been completed. The woman on the floor was still alive, and that was a problem. "I didn't even want to take her. I didn't want to. But she begged me!" The man seemed to be on the verge of tears and hysteria both, and Davie allowed himself a moment of pity for him; after all, the man was more of a boy, thrusted unwillingly from sheltered university life into the cold adult world just a few days ago. "She begged me," He continued, "To let her become like me. As if I was some sort of celebrity. Some sort of thing that everyone always dreams of becoming." He inhaled a shaky breath through his gasping, dry mouth. "She'd only read about the life through those books, you know. Those stupid, filthy books full of horridly false misconceptions that grew stronger in her mind the more she continued to research...I didn't want Anne to turn out like this." "Did she think..." Davie's yellow-gray eyes shifted now to graze the man's face. "Did she think that a bite would lead to a transformation?" He sighed, shrugging. "I suppose. And when realizing that it would not, that nothing would, she requested that I help her end her life." "Are you sure this is what she wanted?" "Yes. I guess I deseve this..." The man looked down at the cobblestone floor on which his wife was laying. "No one wants to spend their life with a vampire." Davie kneeled upon the stones beside the girl, his left hand softly rubbing the porcelain-pale skin that stretched from her chin to her collarbone. Beneath the smooth expanse he could feel warmth pulsating through the various routes and canals of the bloodstream. "Hurry," Her husband urged. "Or else she'll wake up." "What would be the matter if she did? You did say this is what she wanted, didn't you?" "Then she would...she would feel it," The man replied in a whimper. "How would you feel if you were awake, and a hulking old brute was trying to kill you, and you couldn't stop--" "You asked me to do this," Davie curtly interrupted, his voice low and threatening. "If you'd rather have the pleasure, go right ahead, my friend." The room was suddenly filled to the brim with a sepulchral silence, and despite the seriousness of the situation Davie smiled. A fanged coward was the most pathetic kind. "Shall I now...?" The young man gasped lightly, then stood there with his mouth half-agape, as if overtaken by a rapid case of paralysis. "I.." He began to say, then stopped. "If you..." He tried again, but could not complete the phrase. The man put a hand to his mouth, and then turned his face towards the wall. After a moment, he swallowed harshly and nodded. Davie cupped an almost colorless palm across the young woman's chin, tilting her head backwards at the angle that made her neck most accessible. All ready, the man behind him was beginning to make high-pitched, muffled cries of misery; Davie shook his head and exhaled in exasperation. "Stop it. Be a man, can't you?" The crying only intensified and he rolled his eyes, returning to the work at hand. With learned fingers, his hands danced across that fragile little neck, searching for that one vessel that would make the act almost instaneous. Only an animal, he believed, would force their victim to suffer before Death finally whisked them away behind her blue-black cloak. Only an animal would force that great black dame to wait until the last drop of blood was gone. Sitting back from the body, Davie became pensive. "You really love her, don't you?" The man seemed to momentarily cease his pre-grieving. "More than you can imagine," He said with a sob. "Did she love you, too?" "What do you mean?" The man asked, his tone revealing offense, though he still looked on at the wall. "Of course she did! She married me, she wanted to live the rest of our lives together. Anne and I are...were...inseparable lovers." "Then why did she not want to stay with you? Live out what was rest of her life with you?" It was a logical train of thought, Davie believed, but apparently the man did not. "I didn't ask you here for an interrogation. Are you going to go through with this or not?" Davie sighed. It had been a logical train of thought, and one that may have made things easier if it had been followed, but it was a thought nonetheless; thinking deeply about matters like these was a frivolous waste of time. It was better, perhaps, for the man not to know or remember the truth, if it would prove to be unbearable. And with a long eternity ahead of him, it undoubtedly would be. Now was the moment. Davie moved closer to the unconscious body, hovering over the pale woman like a ghost, and swooped. His lips made contact with her skin like a lover's would as his teeth drove down deep, ripping in a precise but vicious manner. Anne seemed to tense up slightly at the intrusion-- could she feel the venom flowing into her?-- but then she relaxed and lay still. Completely still, as if she was just a waxen statue, a full-figured artistic masterpiece. "Peter," Davie said, "Peter, turn around. Peter..." As if he was deaf, the man continued to stare into the distance. "Peter..." The man was no longer sobbing, just staring. "Listen to me, I know this is difficult, but it would have happened eventually!" The man did not appear to be listening. Instead his eyes began to glaze over, and Davie understood. An everlasting man was no match for a broken heart. Copyright 2008 Sneh =] |
| < Prev | Next > |
|---|
via Email
