“I know you…”
I was repeating myself; in my mind, with my voice.
I was saying, “I know you, I know you,” mentally screaming, “I know you!” and I did, I knew her.
The light of a church shone brightly nearby and in it I could see her fair hair, her eyes: their depth and their emotion. The slight figure I had only recently held in the very hands she now restrained; how small and helpless se had seemed then.
My wrists weren’t bound but the pressure of her delicate hands holding them together felt like they were clad by iron.
I could feel the sweat dripping down my bow as I desperately tried to move my fingertips.
Reaching a hand upwards she ran it smoothly over my cheek, feeling the moisture on my face; my sweat, the heat of her breath on my skin.
She inhaled quickly, suddenly drawing her hand down to my throat and within seconds pushing me backwards.
My head cracked off solid stone and although already wet with sweat I knew the liquid now soaking through my hair was blood.
I gasped as her lips came to my neck. As I felt the sharp sting of her teeth piercing my skin, the pain of them sinking into a vein, the sensation of my mind opening to such an impossible possibility as I realised I had been expecting all of this but refusing to believe it to be true.
I felt my eyes begin to blur and body begin to numb, but my thoughts were clear and no, I could not go down this easily.
I clawed at her hair, tangling its waves in my fingers, pulling at the strands with what strength I had left.
I tried to scream, but I could muster little sound, little more than a spluttering that sounded more like I was going to vomit the word vampire than scream it.
Before me I could still see the lights of the church, how dim they were becoming, and with an emotion I cannot explain I realised my body was failing me.
I was but moments away from death…
I felt my limbs weaken, I felt the faintness, I felt the exhaustion, the submission, I felt my hands weakly fall down her back and I felt my lips part as I choked what I thought to be my last words:
“You are too alike. I thought that by ridding myself of you she would be gone; would no longer haunt me.”
I sighed knowing that such a thing to say should be followed by an outburst of tears. But I had cried, cried until I thought no longer tears could flow, and now it appeared as though they could not.
I placed my hand on his head as I felt him stir. It was gently that he did but I felt a rush of content flood through me knowing I had stopped in time. My peace ended abruptly as with his next movement I felt him begin to shake. I had given him my own blood in an attempt to heal him. It wouldn’t matter the type, my blood could heal any I had fed on, a way to redeem one’s self I thought bitterly and grunted a laugh.
I took a deep breath and looked down at him; he looked so weak, so helpless. I wanted to pull him closer, to tell him I was sorry and beg for forgiveness, but instead I chose to do something I thought I would never have the courage to do.
I pulled my coat which I had laid over him higher to cover his neck and the wound which I had caused. He needed to be kept warm. If I had the strength I would have moved him, but from trying to revive him I now had little; I was drained.
Steadying my breath I held my voice no higher than a whisper as I began:
“You know what I am, you always knew.” I said to him, as though replying to his previous comments, only a life time too late.
“But how I came to be, what led my path to yours, the result of which could have been your death in exchange for my eternal life, you will learn only through my story.
“A story I am finally willing to tell.”
You know, just yesterday I was talking to someone about how we get from A to B when writing a story. This is part of my A. When I get an idea, I first get a feel for it in my head, and then I write something in that world. I never have, and probably (unfortunately) never will, go straight to the plotting board. I like to write a sample first, something that gets me into the mood of the story. I found when I wrote my book that the final story turned out very differently to what I had first started writing, and I can’t help but wonder where I would have taken this story.
It was going to be about Elizabeth, our main vampire lady, and the love story that had destroyed her. Nothing new there then, but that’s okay. It was also going to somewhat link in with the Verity story I posted a few weeks ago, but now I know that Verity will be a part of my series, I don’t think Elizabeth will be joining her.
Anyway, about the writing: it ain’t awful. It’s when I was developing how to write. Now, I’m kind of over that over emphasis on everything that I seemed to have enjoyed doing back then. I’m also not so big on writing in first person, which I seem to have also done a lot of in the past. Supposedly, young adults (and I was a young adult when writing most of my Flashback Friday Fiction) relate better to first person, so I find it interesting that it’s also how I wrote. My book isn’t in first person, however. I now prefer to write in third and be a bit of an omniscient narrator (I know all your secrets, mwahaha).
Another thing I’m not so keen on is the switch in point of view so early in the story. It just confuses things and I’m fairly certain that I had planned for the story to be told all from Elizabeth’s point of view. I suppose I was going for some kind of reaction, wanting the reader to somewhat fear Elizabeth and see her as a mysterious character before I introduced her as the main.
I don’t have any plans to write this story. It actually might be one of the only stories that I’ve started and don’t plan to go back to. I think it’s because of how serious I planned it to be. I don’t recall having any characters in mind to add humour and now when I write I like to have those characters. Also, vampires. I don’t believe vampires have been done to death in literature, I just think that for me they have. I was massively interested in vampires as a teenager and read a lot about vampire mythology and, of course, I was a huge fan of Anne Rice. Now, I just feel bored the minute I see something is about vampires. Although, I do still really want to watch What We Do in the Shadows!
Until next writing time machine,