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VAMPIRE HISTORIA
A SERIES OF REVELATIONS: NICOLAI’S FATE
An Excerpt of the Upcoming Novel
By
Scarlette D’Noire
Chapter Two
Württemberg, Holy Roman Empire: 1548
Why did I run? I am a coward! I did not flee to save myself. No! I want to die, but I will not give him the satisfaction of watching. “Curse to Hell the man who made her!” My life force began to wither as I ran deeper into the woods in a state of panic.
~ ~ * ~ ~
Moments before, I had watched Annalise slip away, so beautiful as she lay dying.
"You are a disgrace to this family!" Wilhelm screamed as he plunged the blade through her heart. In shock, I pulled the sword from her chest and threw it away from her. Wilhelm snatched me from behind, pulling me upward by the back of my shirt. We stumbled across the barn, falling backwards. I landed hard on top of him, stunning him with the full weight of my body. My heart raced as I hit him several times, until he no longer moved. I ran to Annalise. Collapsing to my knees, I scooped her up and balanced her on my lap, pulling her close to me. There was so much blood! I pressed hard against her chest to stop the bleeding, yet her blood coated my arm. Tears stung my eyes as I cradled her and prayed to God to save her. She had not done anything wrong. Did she deserve to die for loving me?
As she took her last breath, she cried out for me. “Nicolai . . .” That was all she managed to say in a soft voice. I leaned over to kiss her. As our lips touched, a piercing pain shot through my back. I looked down to witness the tip of a blade emerge below the right side of my chest. I should have been in agony, but the shock of it all didn't allow me enough time to think about the pain as I lunged forward to remove myself from the sword’s blade. I spun around, catching Wilhelm off guard and knocking him to the ground, and then I ran.
~ ~ * ~ ~
Earlier, her father had forbidden Annalise from continuing our relationship, a demand to which neither one of us would adhere. Since I was not party to the Reformation, I fought against the League, with whom her father had pledged his allegiance. At the Battle of Mühlberg in Saxony, victory put an end to the Schmalkaldic War and sealed our fate. He thought me a disgrace, and blamed my father and our Moldavian heritage for our outdated religious beliefs; strong in the faith of the Holy Roman Empire. My father had fought for Stephen III and he would never allow me to align with these heretics. Yes, I knew Annalise’s father hated me, yet I did not think he would resort to killing his own daughter to keep us apart.
~ ~ * ~ ~
Adrenaline flooded my body as I continued to run into the night. I stumbled into the forest, bleeding profusely from my chest. Disbelief consumed me. Annalise... dead at the hands of her own father! Weakness made my body heavy, slowing each footstep as I made my way through the woods. The rain fell hard and fast, the droplets removing any trace of blood as quickly as it poured from my wound. In the cold night air, each breath grew fainter with every rapid exhale. Considerably weakened, I fell to my knees. Where is God now? “I curse you! You are not my Father in Heaven! You are a plague in my life, killing everything that is beautiful and pure. I curse you to Hell and wish to die a death far from You!”
From out of the shadows, a figure emerged. “Are you quite sure you are through with our God, my son?” As I grew weaker, I thought I was hallucinating. With each heartbeat, fear quickened my heart. Who is this strange-looking man? Each feature appeared distinct; sharp, yet I could not make them out individually. His eyes were piercing, the shade of a deep blackness. The liquid color seemed to bore right through me. His eyes not only shone; they seemed to control the night.
I was strangely defiant. I would have been terrified if not for my present situation, for I knew I was already dying. What more can this man do to me? Nothing! This stark knowledge gave me the courage to speak my mind. The anger of my heart poured out of my mouth. “To hell with you and your God! Do you not grasp my situation? I am dying. My beloved lies cold in death for no greater sin than that of love! Yes, I am through with Him. I have no further use for this life or for your God! They are both a curse! Go! Leave me to die.” My last moments were fast approaching. I wished for it to be over swiftly. Death was not a stranger. I had witnessed its ravages many times in battle. I tried to remove the image of Annalise’s fear as she realized the blade had pierced her heart. My mind raced. I experienced her fear at the thought of death. Her sorrow crushed me. I could not bear the thought of life without her. I had to escape this nightmare. I tried to focus on the fields where we would go to be alone in happier times. Where I planned to propose to her. I struggled to find the place in my mind where we always ran to share stolen moments. Our safe haven from the world. I tried to imagine the warmth of the sunshine on our skin, the smell of her hair as she lay in my arms. I wanted to hold her one last time. But my thoughts only returned to the fear and pain in her eyes as she lay dying.
“You cannot remove those images so easily, can you?” As I was shuddering from the pain, I did not answer. “Why should you think about the beauty of life or the pureness of your love if you are through with this life as you said? Why do you cling to the things that God made if you curse this life and God to Hell?”
Was this man reading my mind? Was he causing me to experience Annalise’s pain and fear? “Who are you? What do you want from me?” My apprehension became overwhelming. In the back of my mind, I began to regret the things that I had said. Now, it was too late.
“No, no! Do not second guess yourself!” He was upon me, grabbing me and pinning me against a tree. “You cursed God and begged to be set free, so, I shall set you free.” And with that short speech, he ripped into my neck, drinking my blood. Our two bodies intertwined; my legs buckled as I grew weaker and gave in to the attack. The stranger let me slide down the tree to the ground, his chest on top of mine. He began methodically to drain me of my blood. I whispered Annalise’s name as I reached upward into the black of night for her; my life, over. The rain fell softly now as the full moon cast a glow throughout the night. The stranger stopped and stared down at me in a curious fashion. Swiftly, he scooped me up and bound upward into the darkness of night.
~ ~ * ~ ~
In an instant, we were at the barn where Annalise’s body lay bloody and still. The stranger listened to her faint heartbeat as he stroked her hair. With savage intent, he stared at her neck. His bony fingers stroked her skin where her jugular pulsed ever so slightly beneath her pale skin. Death was upon her. He reached down, touching her wound, his fingers intermingling with her blood. He slowly raised his hand to his lips to lick his fingers clean and started the process all over again. I was outraged. How dare he touch her! “What are you doing? Get away from her! Why did you bring me here to die?”
He glanced at me, twisting his lips into an evil smile. “To answer your prayers. Your beloved still breathes. She has not completed her journey from this life. She will meet the God you never will and find peace from this life, but you, my son, asked for a different fate.” He grabbed me, pulling my face close to his. Through his eyes, I peered into the darkness. Dazed, I could not look away. “I denounce you to a place between this world and the next,” he said as he bit into my neck again. Blood dripped from his mouth as he paused. “I denounce you to find no peace in either world. For you will roam and search, but you will not find.” He released my body. I slumped forward on the brink of death. The stranger bit into his own wrist and let his thick, dark blood flow. He sat on the floor of the barn and grabbed me by the hair, thrusting his wrist into my mouth just as my heart was to take its last beat. To my utter horror, his blood revived me. My senses were heightened. The booming of his heartbeat rang in my ears. Images of death flooded my mind as his blood flowed into my body. “You will drink of their blood, trying to fulfill an unending thirst. You will drink of their breath, searching for the answers, looking for that which you lost. But follow them not all the way, for surely y
ou will die, cursed to Hell for all eternity.” Anguish overwhelmed me as I instinctively began to pray. “Doamne iarta-ma,” I begged.
The stranger threw me across the barn and laughed. “Too late for that, my son. God cannot help you, nor forgive you.” He picked me up by my shirt and pulled me to Annalise. “Listen. Do you sense her heart beating?” I strained to recognize what came so easily to the stranger. “Listen for the rhythm. Each beat is a sonnet to God. A steady pleading to go back to Him. A reminder of the greatest gift ever given to us. Each beat brings us closer to home, and I am afraid, Nicolai, your beloved’s life song is almost over.” He began to laugh. “Shall I make her one of us? Snatch her from God's hands and thrust her into yours to roam the Earth restlessly with you?”
One of us? How can I allow Annalise to be taken from God? My mind was racing. I did not know fully what I had become, but I feared the worst. This beast has condemned me. I cannot let this happen to Annalise! “No, please don’t!” I whispered. The sensation of being all alone smothered any hope and despair overtook my senses. I shuddered as the cold penetrated me to my core.
“Yes, Nicolai. The cold takes a little getting used to, but blood always helps ease our affliction.”
I turned toward Annalise. Her breath called to me. I lay down beside her and ignored my tormentor for a moment. I closed my eyes as I pulled her onto her side. She lay facing me now, her bloodstained chest close to mine. I held her in my arms. I opened my eyes and looked at her face. She looked like an angel. I knew she would be dead soon. The agony of it all was too much. Tears flowed from my eyes, to my surprise. I was dead, and very confused. “Careful. Your thoughts will be hers. I do not think you wish to send her to the Other World with thoughts of fear and regret.” Time with Annalise was running out. I pushed the fear and anguish from my mind.
“Kiss her,” he demanded. I readily obeyed and kissed her lips gently.
“Do not be afraid, my love. I am here with you,” I whispered softly into her ear.
The stranger stared at me. His lips began to curl into a slight smile. “From the life force of the innocent you will breathe and seek the knowledge of their hearts to bring you back to your Love and the redemption of God. From her final breath, you will see what you have done to your soul. The life force of the Innocent is your key, Nicolai.” I did not understand his words and let them roll off me. I focused on her breath entering my body as I kissed her. I couldn’t determine if her breath was flowing into me or if I was pulling it out of her, as our life essence mixed. Euphoria swept away reality.
~ ~ * ~ ~
Now we were in the field of grass; her eyes shined brightly and life coursed through her veins. I was in ecstasy! “Annalise, I love you.” She laughed, pulling away from me.
“I love you too, Nicolai. And I shall wait for you.”
“Wait for me where?” I no longer saw her, yet I sensed her voice, which started to fade as her heart ceased to beat. A great void came between us, like a vacuum of darkness sucking me away. I struggled against it, trying to get closer to her.
“Return for me, Nicolai.” I faintly heard her say.
~ ~ * ~ ~
In an instant, I was back in the barn. Pain seared through my body as I landed, the benefit of the stranger throwing me away from Annalise. When I opened my eyes, he was staring down at me. “Do you wish to go to Hell?” he asked, so matter of fact. “I told you never to follow too far. You must pull away before their final breath. Or you will die!” He pressed his fingers to my lips, still stained with Annalise’s blood, forcing me to taste of it. The rush was instant. Hot lava pumped through my veins. I lost track of what I was doing…the absolute horror of it all. Completely full of yearning, my new nature was emerging. The edges of the room began to dim, and sounds were muffled as if under water. My senses focused in on a faint metallic taste in the air. The aroma of her blood set my tongue on fire. I wanted more; demanded it! I tried to go to Annalise and drink from her, but the fiend would not permit me. He held me on the floor, my head resting in his lap, in a chokehold rather than any kind of nurturing embrace, until the craving subsided. Mortified, I wanted to go back to Annalise, to the green field and the life we had before. He laughed in a low cynical voice. “It’s too late, Nicolai.” His words echoed in my ears as I began to fade into the blackness.
About The Author
A lover of all things vampire, this is her first attempt at writing fiction. She is currently working on two books in the Vampire Historia, a Series of Revelations: Nicolai's Fate and Delano’s Undoing. Originally from Chicago, she is an American author currently residing in Florida with her husband and two furry children. Scarlette D’Noire is a nom de plume used to protect the true identity of the author so she may bring Vampire Historia, a Series of Revelations to light without consequences.
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FORGOTTEN IMMORTAL
By
BellaDonna Drakul
Chapter I
One cannot be dubbed as truly insane until they have seen all that others would believe is imaginary. For what one sees that others choose not to see is what separates the boring from the truly interesting. Simply stated, a maniacal genius is usually seen as someone who sees images of a reality that cannot be magnified by those who see all as blind or those who “live inside of the box.” However, in my world, it is hard to decipher what is real and what is not. I have been told by several that I dwell in a box that is neither here nor there and that I am far too out of touch with society as a whole. I am not exactly sure why everyone sees me as such, but it could be because many feel that I am not in my right state of mind. Or it could be due to the fact that I spend a large portion of my time in solitude, even though I’m happily married. But what I think it might actually be is that I am a “drug addict” who suffers from delusions brought on by severely potent hallucinogens who isn’t willing to admit it. And why must I be branded as an addict? I am not what others call me. I am not an addict, but rather an “experimenter in the field of hallucinogenic studies.” Yes, that sounds much better indeed! And as long as I keep telling myself that, then it will eventually be seen as true in the eyes of others. Unfortunately, my beloved bride also sees me as something of horrendous addictions, but she has a reason to, I suppose.
When we first met ten years ago at The Filmfest Hamburg in our homeland of Germany, we both gave in to the temptations of “full mental awareness” brought on by euphoric hallucinogens like acid and mushrooms. We were willing to love only each other as compared to others who lived in a world of free love and let our partners know immediately. No, we did not believe in sharing the one you were with, but rather the drugs you held in your hand. We spent many days and nights together after we met in that sultry month of lust and lost inhibitions. She was the most glorious creature I had ever laid eyes on and I almost stopped using drugs altogether just to be with her, but she objected to it completely, which made me love her even more. Yes, my lovely girl with a wild streak was all I needed to survive in a world full of chaos and there was nothing I would ever want more than her. Fortunately, as the years have passed into my present time in the early winter of 1975, my love for my dearest Isotta Emory has not only grown, but expanded to an “obsession,” as it may be. The very thought of her is intoxicating – from the vision of her dark auburn hair to the seductive words that exude from her lips of petal pink. I am enthralled by her alluring blue eyes that hypnotize me with one stare and her kind interior that melts my heart every day. This is why she is so wonderful in every way to me. She is all that I need in my
life and there is nothing that could ever replace her in my heart. No… that is a lie. I am not as in love with her as I was ten years ago. In fact, there are days that I despise her completely and it is because of my misuse of the illegal substances that brought us together in the first place. As I recall, I can still hear the first time she told me I was acting like an addict, nearly six months ago, when the temperature was as hot as her temper…
“Benedikt… don’t you think you’re going just a bit overboard with the acid?” She began with a sweet tone, her now aged lips pressed tightly together, with her hands on her voluptuous hips. “It’s making you act like a delusional ass! And would it really kill you to clean the house once in a while? If I wanted to live with a disgusting pig, then I would have married one! Oh, wait – I did! Get up, you sick bastard!” Oh, did I forget to tell you that she went from an angelic beauty to a psychotic bitch? I suppose I didn’t, but I think that speech alone speaks for itself. It is sad to think that it took such a small amount of time before she lost all hope in me. We used to be so close, so happy, and so much in love. But as the years progressed and I started experimenting with stranger and more dangerous hallucinogens than those my wife and I took together, she stopped caring and spent more time yelling at me. It was never-ending unfortunately, and seemed to get worse the higher I was, which was pretty bad.
My eyes were severely dilated as Isotta screeched at me and all I could think about was how she was ruining my intense trip. So, as with everything that occurred between my beloved and me, another hateful fight arose in a drug-induced state, which was the only way I could cope with it all. “Why is it every time you open your mouth, you act like a crazy troll on coke? I am so sick of you!” I howled, lit up a pungent cigarette, and blew the smoke directly in her face. “Now, are you going to bitch about that too? Leave me alone, woman…” I laughed as my wife continued to scream at me. I soon blocked her out and took another hit of acid I had hidden in my pocket. I then crawled into my formerly lovely bedroom two feet away and flopped down on the dusty-looking duvet cover as Isotta rushed in to yell at me further.
Vampires Romance to Rippers an Anthology of Tasty Stories Page 6
