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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/215297-Rising-And-Falling
Rated: 13+ · Book · Gothic · #593396
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#215297 added December 23, 2002 at 6:10pm
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Rising And Falling
With every rise comes a fall. With every fall comes...

I stand in the darkness and move into the moonlight. It bathes my bare skin in it's soft glow, a tender caress upon my flesh. I stare at the lake, the deep dark lake bordering the large manor. I move toward it, slowly, answering the silent call none hear but me.

For weeks now I have heard the call, my name whispered upon a lovers lips. Deep and seductive, it's lure has finally reached my soul and I cannot shake it off. I think of my robe draped carelessly across the foot of my bed as a gentle breeze tickles my skin. I think of my family sleeping peacefully. I open my mouth to scream, to awaken them and free myself from the pull in which I am trapped.

The sound does not escape and all I hear is my heavy breathing and the gentle lapping of the water on the shore. I stop at the waters edge but I do not allow my bare feet to touch the liquid. There is death here.

I feel a hand upon my shoulder but I dare not look, I dare not think. I close my eyes and feel pressure on my neck, a hand upon my breast. He has fed before, he has touched before, I lean back against his chest as he sucks my blood from my body.

I feel light, airy, weightless. I open my eyes and stare at the black night and the blacker water and I feel sickened by the lack of light. I moan low when I attempt to scream, he is taking too much. He has never drank this long.

I feel lightheaded and faint, like I am drunk on too much wine. I close my eyes once more, knowing they shall not be opened again.


"She is dead? No! No!" Margaret falls to her knees and weeps as I stand before her bringing the news of her daughters demise. I run my fingers through my thick black hair and lick my lips. Her blood was delicious and I still recall the gentle moaning as I took her life.

"I am sorry, Madam." I say coldly and Ryon glares at me. I cannot spare compassion, not when the youngest daughter, Ellyn, stares at me lustfully. Sixteen and pure, Ellyn will be a treat for the senses as well as a supply for the sweat nector I crave.

"Please leave, sir." Ryon states just as coldly and I smile softly. I have sent my calling to Ellyn, she will be mine tonight.

"Of course, Mister DuPrey." I say as I bow lowly. Ellyn will join her sister. No doubt of that. I will feast well tonight.


Ellyn strips down to her chemise and enters the lake. Five weeks and I have yet to claim her. She is stronger willed than Meghan was, stronger and more seductive. She swims to the other side of the large lake effortlessly and I sit on the bank to wait for her return.

She has toyed with me, played with my desires like a coy slut and I long to kill her. But, it is always better to have a pet than a corpse. I anxiously bide my time.

She swims quickly, effortlessly, her strokes smoothly parting the water. When she reaches higher ground she stands and her wet chemise clings to her young body, molding perfectly to her form. I see her tempting shape, her full breasts and luscious curves. I swallow the growl that rises with the hunger.

"What do you want?" She asks coldly and I stand, smiling, calling.

"You, my sweet. Only you." I say.

"You presume too much, sir." She replies as she snatches up her gown and covers the revealing slip.

"I presume nothing." I say. "Come to me."

She stands her ground and tilts her head. "My sister is dead, sir. Do you think I wish to join her?"

I stare at her long blonde hair, wet from her swim and lick my lips. Water trickles down her neck, moving as gently as a lovers tongue to the treasures below.

"Do you think I killed your sister?" I ask.

"I know you did, Myrelt." She says my name lowly, seductively.

"You play with my lusts, child." I growl.

"As you played with my sisters?" She questions, her gray eyes blazing. "You want me?" She asks as she drops the gown and once again reveals her beauty. "Take me."

I move forward, my fangs pressing against my lips, my eyes on her neck. I pull her to me, sliding my tongue up the curve of her neck to her chin, tasting sweat and water. I press my fangs in, deeper than neccessary.

She doesn't cry out and the blood clots in my fangs. I withdraw and release her. Her smile is cold as I choke on the poisoned blood.

"Tasty?" She asks. "Let me explain what happened when you killed my sister. I was changed way before her, I was created by the greatest vampire ever. Ryon DuPrey. He is not my father, he is my creator, my lover. I am loyal to him.

"Meghan was truly my sister and he kept her closer than me, closer than anyone. Why, you may ask, would he hold Meghan closer than me? I am tempting." She embraces her curves and I swallow the vile blood. "Because Meghan didn't want to be a vampire, Myrelt. Because Meghan hated Ryon. So, she let you kill her.

"You took a little longer than we expected. She told me she expected you to kill her soon but you just drank the nector she offered willingly. I offer death as Ryon has taught me. You will die."

I stumble and fall to my knees on the ground. "Colder than I ever was." I say.

"Yes, I guess I am. Of course, if I was truly the innocent sixteen year old you believed me to be, I would be the one dying, not you."

"With every rise comes a fall." I say as my throat closes off. I see blackness creeping into the corners of my vision.

Her face moves in, filling my rapidly fading sight. "With every fall comes a vampire more powerful than the last."

I shudder and fade, remembering the taste of Meghan and the defeat of my reign as Myrelt, vampire.

© Copyright 2002 DragonWrites~The Fire Faerie~ (UN: mystdancer50 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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