This blog contains material I wrote and posted on between the years 2005 and 2011 only. It does not contain any new material. For newer writing, please check my main blog (Bill the Butcher).

Thursday, 11 October 2012

Vampire Story

It was only just gone dark when the vampire awoke.

Sluggishly, it moved in its warm bed, stretching and readying for the night. It was not yet really hungry, the blood-hunger was not yet upon it; but it was hungry enough to know that the blood-hunger was coming.

Slowly, still not fully awake, it moved from its shelter and passed on through the darkness. Like all its kind, it was no active seeker after prey; prey would, sooner or later, once it set up its ambush and lay in wait, come to it.

Its teeth moved against each other in anticipation. Like all its kind, it was a creature of darkness by choice, cloaking itself in the night. It moved with an eerie grace, its sinuous litheness at far variance with the clumsiness of its prey.

Far above it, the Universe whirled, stars and galaxies in their cosmic dances; but it knew nothing and cared nothing for all that. Strange impulses moved inside it, overwhelming it with their urgency. The blood-hunger was coming.

It found a place near a tall old bank of rock and earth, where the river bent. This was a good spot. Its prey came here often.

The man and woman came down the bank of the river, already kissing. They were very young, still in their teens, and the raging desire for sex drowned out everything else for them; drowned out the repeated warnings about the riverside, drowned out the warnings of their own intuitions, drowned out common sense. Quickly, fumbling at each other’s clothes, they stripped, and made urgent thrashing love on the grassy bank.

The vampire waited.

Afterwards the man and the woman sat, still nude, on the bank with their feet in the water and snuggled. The man got a joint from the pocket of his discarded pants, lit it up, and passed it to the woman. They passed it back and forth, softly giggling, in post-coital togetherness.

The vampire struck.

The woman did not feel anything. The vampire was hidden in the darkness, invisible, and its saliva deadened sensation as its teeth got to work, cutting skin and vein and ripping apart capillaries. It sucked, the warm rich blood coursing down its gullet, filling it with new energy after the long starvation. The blood-hunger retreated, sated.

At last the vampire moved away, swollen with its meal, and made its way back towards its bed in the mud. The woman was still oblivious, in her marijuana haze. She and the man began kissing and fondling, preparing for another session. They lay down on the bank again, side by side, in steadily advancing arousal.

The moon came out from behind a cloud, and lit up the scene.

The woman screamed.

“I’m bleeding,” she shrieked, pointing at her feet, still wet from the river.

The man bent over her legs and had a look at the flowing blood.

“That’s one hell of a leech bite you got there,” he said.

Copyright B Purkayastha 2009

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