Vampire Lace

White or red, doesn't matter when you're dead.

"A vampire? Really? Don’t make me laugh."

"Would you care for me to demonstrate?"

She scoffed and turned from him.

But he was having none of that. She had teased him too much tonight, showing up to his masquerade ball in a white lace dress of all things. He grabbed her arm and spun her towards him.

She gasped in surprise, then furled her brow in anger.

"How dare you sir! I am the Duchess of Greenbriar! Unhand me!"

"Duchess, are you? Don’t make me laugh. You are nothing more than a high bred whore, just like all the others."

And he gripped her long red hair, pulled back to expose her neck, and bit into her jugular. She let out an ear piercing scream, but he held her closer, her blood now running down her neck, staining her white lace dress red.

*****

When she woke the next morning, she believed it all to be a dream. Until she saw her red stained lace dress hanging from a headless mannequin in the corner of the room. A room made of dark stone and damp earth; one that she had never seen or been in before.

A mirror hung on the wall, and she walked to it; examined the swollen marks on her neck.

"Do you believe in vampires now, Duchess?"

He cast no reflection in the flawless glass but she felt his lips kiss her temple. She screamed.

~ 242 words ~

written for and WINNER of:

Daily Flash Fiction Challenge  (13+) Enter your story of 300 words or less. #896794 by Arakun the twisted raccoon

05.19.2025 Prompt: use the line “Don’t make me laugh.”

and inspired by:

White Lace & Promises  (13+) It's not what you're thinking #2340496 by JL Richter