Categories > Original > Horror

Damned With A Curse

by hyperballad13 1 review

Clara waits for her prey

Category: Horror - Rating: G - Genres: Fantasy - Published: 2008-01-28 - Updated: 2008-01-28 - 2018 words - Complete

The air was crisp and delicate sweet as it spindled throughout the midnight streets, whispering through raven locks. Clara eyes scattered around her surrounding as her sense heightened in the dead of the black. The walls were drenched in the darkest of shadows though the moonlight painted patterns upon the dank dreary city. Moans of a modern beast were echoing across the town, the horns whirring past in a hazy of speed. The belly of the city fast in lateness and many could be victims stood safe inside their metallic fortress; unmoving from their solitude. In cases that were rare and garish, a humming of melody would rush thick from the small cracks of the windows; sometimes even a thudding of vile excuses for music would pour out as poisonous as the smoke that joined. The modern world merely blocks away from where she stood and stuck in her mind as a monster; offering nothing but neglect in a disguise of alcohol and electricity. None of which gave her much satisfaction.

Upon the building blocks that towered high, she crouched, waiting for a sense of life to come tiptoeing by in the hub of the underworld. You see, as close as the flashing lights, alcohol lips and electric dreams were, they were vast in a blind ignorance, refusing to look further than the tips of their noses and the shine of their gold. Clara could wait patiently upon her building top with no interruption; she could prey for that one fool to come willingly into her world. The wind headed warnings from the home of the clouds, screaming violently to anyone that dared step one toe into the wastelands. Clara would glare as nature seemed against her in her war, her battle, her hunger. She needed feast and her spot was the only place where she could get the finest cuisine of flesh.

Clara was a slave to the underworld; a vampire, travelling from land to land across the rubbish tumbleweeds and creatures of the night. She loathed her need to drag her limbs through the dusk and despised her hatred of the day. Where she belonged was the feeble genes of a once terrifying race. Slithering down the walls where the heathens begged for joys of the skin, she would step along the beaten track and wallow in a mercy that was taken from her at such young age. Those strong sat in churches of hell and roamed on wild hunting spree. Those weak would follow them in awe hoping for the same blessing to fall against their corpse. Those pathetic outcast by the packs and feasted upon animals or scarps. Clara was none; too independent to follow and too smart too scrounge. Clara had been a loner since her damnation from the bourgeois of clans. Yet she had never been willing to join; never been willing to accept her vampire heritage. She was banished by her self.

So here she stood, the moon a blaze in the blanket of dark as it mirrored the eyes of the hopeful. The stars around coated themselves in the light that beamed merrily from the orb; stealing only miniscule amounts of brilliance. Clouds floated by in a dance of sloth, covering the moon every so often. The rays fell down and for second at a time shone over the details of the alley so that a fool could walk in, assuming that the path way was full of safety. Alas, the moon was always an ally of the damned.

A breathless array of beats came pounding into Clara’s hearing and a smile resided across her pale portrait face. She cocked her head to one side and although her hair covered her features, she sought out the source through the gaps. Heals; footsteps from heals had tunefully hinted at the presence of a pulse ridden corpse. Her pupils dilated as Clara found, turning the corner, a fresh blonde haired girl; the scent of her in sweet perfume as she sang softly to herself to keep her calm. The woman was perfect. Licking her lips, Clara waited patiently in her abundance…

The girl, Isobel, was slightly flushed. The glasses of wine that she had consumed merely moments before had hit her cheeks in an explosion of alcohol and binge. Her steps as she walked were no longer straight but they wobbled from one side of the alley to another. She could see alright but then again, the cool air was sobering her senses but her walking was still difficult. A smile was fixated on her rounded face as her hands we delved deep into the seat of a pocket where a rosary bead necklace lay. She stroked it as she walked alone; her heart thudding panic but she tried to stay from the worry. Her home was just a few streets away and she had little cash to get in a taxi, little balance to drive her self home. Humming lullabies, she blundered down the brisk path as content as she could be.

A growl. That was all it took to shatter her illusion of an easy way home, a simple blood curdling growl. Isobel slowed her footsteps down in curious fright. A growl, seemingly came from nowhere; rolling across the atmosphere like deadly thunder. A growl that was straight from the mouth of hell where innocent blood had dabbled on the Devil’s lips. Stopping her tracks before she moved, Isobel stood silent and still. Her heart thudding as tumbling hopes fell to the floor. There was no echo, no repeat and no sign. Just the remembrance of the deafening low growl and the fear that would be the last she ever heard.

Isobel turned her head to check behind her and all she saw was the emptiness of the world. The alley stretched back further than she had anticipated; the safety of the cars streaming past seemed miles away. She frowned in confusion, her eyebrows pointing down into the temple of her nose as she pouted ever so slightly. There was no one following her, no dread looming over her shoulder, just air flying by without a care. Isobel sighed out of relief and turned her head back to the path ahead; turned to face two gleaming red eyes. And another, deafening growl…

Clara had watched the young girl turn the corner. She waited patiently, cold and patiently. She stretched her bones and stood, waiting for the perfect moment. The perfect time. The wind breezing past her body hitting her skin as though it willed her to feel its harshness; she felt nothing. A growl was heard and Clara poised her foot on the edge of the building, about to jump when two hands pulled a back from her hunt. She gasped in shock as she was dragged away only inches from her spot; that hands pressing against her hips and smoothing against her skin. In her neck, a mouth nuzzled and enticed nerves to tingle in an animal instinct; teeth gripped tiny pillows of her skin. Clara could feel the rage boil, building up from the pit. She dug her nails into the hands and pushed the body away from her. Turning her sights to the creature who dared touch her, the demon standing close to her, his eyes alight with need.

“Have you come to fight me Leonard?” She called throughout the air, clenching her fist as she worried about the time ticking by, her eyes darting ever so often to the girl below. She wasn’t going to miss her feast. “Or play foolish games once again.”

“Clara, you know I admire your conviction, can I not simply awe at such a fine creation?” He grinned “After all, God does with his, why can I not play with mine?”

“You are pathetic Leonard, if you haven’t come to fight, I expect you to leave.” She blurted, her hands shaking from the battle that she knew would come, not now but soon. She turned her head away and found that the girl was still checking behind her; no presence yet. Leonard took steps towards her, slow unnerving steps and stood inches away. His scent looming on the tingles of her nose.

“Oh dear, are we still at this Clara? Have you not succumbed to our ways yet?” Leonard chuckled, “You are a foolish girl.”

“I am not the foolish one,” Clara muttered under her breath, her body rushing with her fear of him. Her bones shaking for her hatred for him. “It is you and your elite; blinded by the generations…”

“Blessed with a charm…” he finished

“Damned with a curse,” battled Clara, daring not to raise her voice as Isobel below turned her head to face a menacing beast. A tall vampire with dark skin, he wore nothing but trousers as his muscles were large and intimidating. His eyes flashed as Isobel started to whimper. He had grabbed her wrist.

“You watch this every day, Clara, do you not wonder what it is like?” Leonard whispered, spreading his five long fingers across her curves again; turning his face into hers so his words could gallop across her cheeks, possibly kissing her lips. “Do you not crave for the sweet blood of innocence to curve down your neck?”

“I crave nothing than the day you and your creations perish…” she replied.

Leonard growled, walking away from her and brushing him self down with eloquence, “Very well, have it your way but you have to give in sometime. There is only so much time a vampire can wait before the evil takes its soul. We shall meet again.”

The wind screeched as Leonard disappeared into the shadows, Clara clenched her teeth and took in a rush of wind to settle her headache pounding in her temples. She poised herself at the edge again; rocking back and forth over the edge until she leaped precisely behind the bellowing beast; he was just about to take a sweet taste of Isobel.

“Hey, tough guy,” she muttered causing him to spin around. “Picking on someone your own kind.”

Clara dove a wooden stake she had whipped from her trousers and dove it straight into the chest of the vampire before her. Pure black blood came pouring out from the wound she had created and he fell to the floor. His eyes wide and open. Isobel, whose eyes were streaming flailed her silent screams as the body lay shocking on the ground.

“Thank you,” she stuttered, not knowing whether she should as the woman before her had the same red eyes. When the words stumbled from Isobel’s lips, Clara cocked her head, flashing the same menacing fangs. Isobel stayed statuesque against the wall, daring not to move.

Clara walked only a few steps to the girl and breathed her in; the strongest perfume of human flesh potent in her mind. Leonard was right she wanted it, she needed it. Sniffing at the trembling girl, Clara was inches away from loosing self control, she merely moaned; “Run. Run back to where you came from; take the lightest route you can find. There will be more down this way….Never come back to the night again”

The girl nodded and took no haste, pelting down the alleyway back to the beeping of the horns, the flashing lights and the electric dreams. Clara hung her head and peered at the demon before her; the cursed blood oozing fast. Sighing, grimacing, Clara crouched down so her lips were seconds from the wound. Like an animal, she lapped up her feast….

Ciao Bella

AN: Minimal people will read this as it isn’t laden with Fall Out Boy or My Chemical Romance, but why would it? This is the first short story with vampires I have written in a long time and let me tell you a secret; this is the part of a whole big book that I am writing that may have this scene in it somewhere. AND I quite like it.

Let me know what you think.

All My Love



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