A Vampire Story (380 hits)
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Submitted by Mike Hawk <thepoet03.at.gmail.com> (View user info) at 2005-10-20 02:37:20 EDT
About a year ago I started to post this story of mine but I never did get further than posting Chapter One. Well a lot of things have changed about the story so I'm going to try and have another go at posting this Story. Below is an edited and slightly diffrent Chapter One then I put up and I will start posting the rest of the book tommorow. Hope you enjoy.
Prologue
~ Ramblings and a short tale from an old man ~
It's funny how sleep works. You enter into a state, hours later you awake, the world changed yet still the same, and you yourself changed but still within the same state as before you drifted off. It revitalizes, it heals. But sleep can bring many things; the thought of dying in his sleep has always haunted him. It seems foolish to dwell on such things because if it happened he would never even know. What if someone was to wake up and find out that they had died? How would they react? Surprised, confused, sad, and or angry are some of the emotions that someone may feel. Then again maybe if the last day they spent living had really been horrid they might find some comfort in dying. We would ask the dead, but they don't tend to talk much. They just lie in their graves never knowing that they can't wake up.
~
Roma awoke the day after he died. He should have felt horrible insurmountable amounts of pain but he felt anew, born again.
~
Death had found him on a cold evening near the end of fall. He had left his manor for the evening and was riding his horse about the countryside. He loved the way horse moved with grace and speed as if one with him. Roma and his horse were this very evening riding at a very fast gallop under the pale moonlight. Roma was a very skilled rider and his horse moved with ease over the ground and over any obstacles. It had an amazing jump. It was brown with a mane that ran long and wild, a stallion with a heart and soul to rival any. It had several big black blotches around its most powerful muscles. One, near it long flowing tail, was in the shape of a clover. It was easily seen when he rode extra fast because the tail would whip and lash about exposing the designer blotch.
He drove his horse into a small stream about seven or eight miles into his ride so it could rest and have a drink. It seemed most grateful as it had its fill and waded around in the water, cooling down. He decided himself to have a swim and took his horse to the other side of the riverbed where he dismounted and tied a rope securely to an old sycamore log. He wasn't really afraid of his horse running off it was just sort easier to keep an eye on him if he didn't let him walk around and graze too far from him.
Wolfs also made their homes in the caves not too far to the north and one had to be careful. One wolf isn't much of a threat but because they travel in packs you were always a bit more precautious. One shot of a pistol sent them running thou so he loosened his from his side and put that on the edge of the banks, just far enough away from the water so that it might not get damaged.
Roma after laying down his pistol took off his cloths and wrapped it up in them. The air was especially cool tonight against his skin. He had been swimming in this river since his youth. It was very deep, perhaps fifteen feet near the center and a good thirty strokes across. It didn't have a particularly strong current even as a child at its fastest sections he could swim up stream. It had fish most not more than a few pounds but they were a good eat now and then if he caught a big one. Their bones were always welcome by his dogs Duke and Duchess back home.
Roma dived in swam to bottom and came up gasping in air deep. Swimming down fifteen feet is quite the feat he thought. He was an above average swimmer with great lung capacity he could hold his breath nearly four minuets if needed. His affinity for taking in oxygen allowed him to be a great runner as well and in fact an all around good athlete. When he came up from the water that first time he blinked a few times and droplets fell off his eye lashes. He ran his hands threw his hair, which he just then noticed, was getting a bit longer than he cared for it to be.
He looked back towards shore and saw his stallion was grazing on some nearby greens. It was so relaxing out here tonight he thought as he laid back and just looked up at the stars and let the current just carry him a little ways. He was growing tired and fearing falling asleep in the water, he decided it was probably a good time to head home. He started swimming back to shore when he realized something was terribly wrong. He couldn't figure out was it was but by the time he had reached shore he was in a state of panic.
His beloved horse was spooked it was reeling back and neighing. He ran up the beach forgetting his cloths and pistol for the time being. His only focus was calming his baby down. He reached him in no time flat and grabbed hold of the rope and the reigns. "Whoa! Calm down baby!" Roma said in a hurried voice. The horse was going wild Roma's voice near a yell had only excited it more. It bucked back and almost kicked Roma in the head but he was able to swiftly stumble out of the way of its powerful hoofs but in doing so he took a tumble and fell to the ground.
He got back up and tried again this time his voice a little more soothing. "Come on, won't you please calm down." it was probably just a snake or something. He thought but he had never seen him act this way towards a snake. Slowly and gradually with soft hushes and a gentle hand Roma was able to regain control of his baby and it quieted down to a soft grunting. Roma untied him at this point and led him to the water he gathered up his cloths and put them back on in haste and quickly fixed his pistol to his side. Reaching to one of his many pockets Roma withdrew a sugar cube and then another and promptly offered them up his friend. He licked his hand and they disappeared into his mouth. He leaned over, took a deep drink out of the river, and as his stallion did this Roma mounted his horse. Once his horse had his fill, he started to cross the river back towards him home.
The wind picked up and Roma had to hold tight to stop from swaying and falling into the water. He took his time, trying not to get his horse excited for fear of falling off. He was about three fourths of the way across, no more than ten strokes when a sharp whistle pierced the air and sent his horse into a frenzy. It started flailing about in the water dazed and confused. Roma tried desperately to hang on but it was to no avail. His stallion went up onto two legs, and with his arms spread, Roma hit the water hard on his back. The water seemed so very icy compared to just the short while ago when he was in it. He started to freeze he couldn't swim He couldn't even struggle to stay above water so he sank. He sank down, down; down further still, ten, twenty, thirty feet. The river didn't run so deep. A watery world consumed him; his watery prison surrounded him. His lungs began filling, not with oxygen but poisonous H2O. His lungs wanted to scream they wanted to explode in flames but the water doused it and chained him down.
~
When he was younger, much, much, younger than now, he had almost drown. He didn't have to worry about these things now that he was dead but in his sleep the nightmare of these events still haunted him. He hated water, he hated life, and most of all he hated snakes. It's no wonder God cursed the foul creatures to crawl forever on their bellies. They deserved worse, absolute extinction the filthy pests. He should have died back then, but he didn't no he was cursed because the devil himself had wanted worse for him. The bastard was a worm, a vermin, a plague, and a snake.
~
Long ago in Russo, a young boy was born. He was born with the surname of Yama His father was part of a royal family controlling much of the land and trade in this region. This land is far to the south of the place I sit, as I shall tell this tale. Lighting crashed as the mother died; she was nothing but a whore anyways. Her pact with the devil sealed in her blood guaranteed that this child would live. The boy was given the name Roma, after his father's father, who died gallantly in the Orent War. Long ago when the republics of the old still ruled, his grandfather was a noble knight. In troubled times the poor commoners, assassinated their leaders because they sought to better their society.
This group also stole then redistributed most of the countryside's land. After all this took place the loyalist, who still fought for a revival of the old republic staged a last stand. It failed miserably and left bitter feelings because many families were torn apart, fathers against sons, brothers against brothers.
Roma's father, Leo, was very saddened by his own father's death, but masked it with hatred. He should have been proud of his father because he alone went head to head to with a battalion leader and held his ground. Their swords clashed and its echo was all that could be heard amid screaming. Sweat ran down the insides of their armor, a crazy dance ensued. Their persona rose outwards locked in battle. In the end, Leo's father met his match in this soldier; one of the new ways, one that fought for that which is now law.
Leo said he hated his own father, called him a "Disgrace." In addition, he said that he was, "Selfish for believing in a lost cause and dying for it." Leo probably was filled with guilt, or at least the feeling of abandonment, and he grew ever bitterer as he aged. Leo thought that if he named his son, born of a whore, after his father he would have a sweet revenge. Like father like son Roma grew to despise his father yearning for that sweet taste of revenge, he educated himself in many things, such as swordplay. Roma's father took a wife later in his life and seeded another son; who would one day inherit his father's world, and fuel the fire that corrupted the heart of his brother.
They would always vie for their fathers approval and attention and Roma always ended up second rate even thou he was far better than his brother. Leo would always throw back, "You have little noble blood in you, and what little you have is tainted with that whore's blood."
As a young man Roma fell deeply in love with a princess from a distant land, they were wed. It was a glorious day. People came from all over to witness the two get married. Their marriage was like a shining symbol to all sorts of people that happiness still existed in this world. Despite the times, they all lived in when some would use their power only to strike fear into the hearts of men. Most leaders just manipulated people's lives to better their own personal gain. This was a world where a sinister shadow forever loomed overhead.
Darkness was a sheet pulled over the populaces eyes. Evil plots and vile schemes ran rampant. Greed too often was the driving force, not the well being or peace of others. Lives were traded for profit. Blood was like gold, everywhere, exchanging hands at a pace faster than any rivers course.
After Roma's father died, Roma's brother began to look at his brother and saw all that he had acquired. All Roma's bother had is what he had inherited from his father. He did not want any of it he wanted his father. Roma did not need his father, and his brother saw him as being, "ungrateful." Maybe he had earned the right to be, all which was his he got on his own. "No help from daddy." Roma's brother was spoiled and arrogant, he thought he could like his father, seize things and make them him his own. As ruler, he exiled his brother and then set out to have Roma's now abandoned wife marry him.
Roma raised an army and attempted a coup, but it failed, and ended in his capture. He was shackled into stocks in the public square where he was tortured for the public's amusement, more for his brothers. When people asked why he did this to his own brother he said, "That whores son is no brother of mine, he wanted to stop our happy way of life and oppress the people. For this he is punishable to death for treason." The crowd did not
buy this and grew restless but you could see the fear in their eyes. You could tell Roma's brother was enjoying this, making an example of his brother and inducing fear into the commoners. "Not even blood is strong enough to bring down my mighty empire he bloated."
On the third day of being locked in the stocks and horse whipped a crowd gathered around Roma's platform. His brother and his wife were seated a ways back elevated on wooden thrones. Roma's brother gave the command to let the final beating commence. Right as Roma's executioner raised his arms to begin; Roma's former wife withdrew a small shank and lunged towards her new husband. She was trying to kill him out of hate and to protect Roma out of an everlasting love. Roma's brother struck her down where she stood with one quick draw of his blade, maybe he saw it coming. She crumpled to the ground in a hurry dead, the cold earth swallowing her soul as her fresh blood spilled out.
The gathered crowed took steps back to avoid this frigid ooze as it rolled out of her towards them. The bruised and beaten Roma with all his bloody and scared appendages began to weep. As sweat and tears rolled down and off his face, he was suddenly filled with a burning. His cries became screams and the metal shackles that confined him melted away, the wooden stocks that had trapped him and held him captive in the blistering summer sun, splintered. He stood up tall, a wide chest filled with oxygen, fueling the fire inside him. With the winds from the summits of Lartis and Valos to the north, he attacked.
A sword as if possessed with a demon flew from the hands of a guard to the hands of Roma. The once standing guard now lay sprawled out across the ground propelled backwards by some invisible force. Every cloud in the world came together and burst above the platform where he now stood. The storm set in, an explosion erupted forth as the heaven wept. Roma's brother was sent flying back into the mud by the blast. A ringing sound hung in the air and in his ears. His breath quickened and fear danced in his eyes like fire, then it went shallow. At last, his brother was upon him, cleaving him like a bore into pieces, crude uncooked meat. Sliced, he prepared them on a dusty platter that is the earth. His lost love also lay in the silent bliss that is death.
The crowd had fled at the act of savagery. It was done the 'mighty empire' had fallen. Not by an army, but by the hand of one man, consumed by rage and love. He went quietly to his love and knelt, he ran his fingers slowly through her now coarse tresses. When he saw the contents of her soul flooding across the earth like wine, something grew in him. It was more powerful then any force that ever flowed through either of them. A thirst surrounded him. Whatever humanity he had left inside of him spoke to him in this instance. "Gather her up; her very life is drained, save it, save it." Then he spoke with his own voice a raspy broken voice, "My love, my precious love." Trembling he raised his hands to his own head and tried to grasp at something, anything human left inside.
However, it was no use in a fleeting moment it was gone, hysteria set in and he became inhuman. With no logic, all thoughts turned to saving any part of her, within him. It was almost incomprehensible, it was irrational but it brought him to the exquisite existence of the other world. He then for no logical reason kissed her wound and partook of her life giving liquid. The earth trembled for a second as a soul died and as a star faded from the evening sky forever.
Roma had fulfilled the promise made so long ago by a whore when an angel came to her and said, "You will lose your son and be forced to live alone forever." Her selfish death undid the world and she gave birth to a beast, became the mother of a devil, and robbed everyone of the peace of mind they once had it was all lost because he still haunts the world today. Always searching always looking for what he was robbed of. He feeds, and destroys all those that would not be something else. Desire breeds madness.
~
That is all I know of how it came to be and these things are merely rumors of people I have encountered speaking silly things. The truth of the matter may be different and as it is with any story the tale in its entirety could be completely different and or there could be more to the tale or even more then what meets the glancing eyes.
~
Introduction
One thing is for sure and that is that the story does not end here. The events that unfolded and were just described to you led up to something much more amazing and important that is for sure. The rumors all point to the fact that he may have fled a short time after this event because no one knows what became of the man they once knew. Some say he died some say he lived on and can not die. Some say he became a cursed man a devil all the rumors are the same but all of them are a little different as well. No one knows the truth that is for sure no one except one person, Roma himself. But here is where the interesting twist should come correct? Everything that follows is not rumor or speculation they are the words of that very Vampire Roma the worlds first and last Vampire and only by reading his story till its climatic end will the truth of the matter ever be reviled and will you find out who I am and how I know these things and where I got this book from.
~
Life after Death
A Vampires Tale of his Life: Till the End of Time
Chapter I
Leaving Home
In the falling twilight Roma learnt many things one of the most important of these lessons was life is discreet not death. He was to find that hunger would consume him most always only in the hours right after feeding did it even subside a little. He wanted to live a normal life, rule his kingdom and bring peace to the land. He was however to find that he had been cursed by his sin. He was forever doomed with the black mark. Much like a snake, God had cursed him to crawl not on his belly as much, but it might as well have been.
Sunlight burnt and one could not rule by night, at least not a kingdom of mortals. He didn't care too much for humanity. He wasn't sure when he lost it or how, if it was after the first killing for feed or the anger he now felt for being cursed. He didn't even realize it at first it was like a dream a state of sleepiness was about his head he didn't understand the hunger then. It's like when you first wake up if you ever doubt reality. When he finally fed, he felt released in the days that followed and he began to understand.
It had been nearly a week since he had turned into what he is today and he began to wonder why he could not eat or drink the food and wines he once held dear. They all were bitter and stale. He felt a certain longing whenever he was around flesh. He pushed the thoughts aside and tried to hang onto humanity for its own sake but he was to learn that he had none.
He was in need of personal relief too or so he thought. He figured 'Yes, that would do me some good' so he called a young whore to his side. When her kissed her he kissed deep he didn't know what he was doing he had no instructor. His fangs grew and sunk swiftly into her supple pink flesh. Around the bosom, he drained her, the last drops lingering on my lips stained with an immortal kiss. Her heartbeat still rang in his ears.
He felt like he was a hundred men. He went to his balcony threw open the doors, the glass shattered, and he leapt towards the streets below. He was afraid of death until it did not meet him. The wind made his breast like a feather and he floated to the street. Only then did he begin to realize he was not human he was something more.
His old friends, they never knew. A few saw him shortly after but he didn't want to stick around his home for too long. He traveled west not sure if he was going north or south but it was always growing colder. Too them he was a shadow a memory a faded picture or silhouette on a field of white snow. Along the way, he fed at his leisure thinking it was only the right thing to do. He thought of burial but decide against it for it was not his place to bury the dead because no one was coming to bury him anytime soon.
It was with the moon that gave way to dawn on the seventh day of his journey that Roma came to a town with a name from memory. Acanta was a small village far to northwest of his home. He had traveled over seven hundred miles by foot in a week trying to escape the dark shadow that followed him. No human could travel that fast but he traveled like a curse uttered on the cold wind.
He was far enough away from his own home now that word of what happened would not reach it for at least a good week and by then he would be gone. He would spend only as much time, as he needed at any given place and move on to stay ahead of his own deeds. It wouldn't always be like this until the stories became myths and legends, dreams and nightmares.
Now he was weary growing hungry and tired from the long nights of traveling. He decided to get better lodgings then holes and small caves. He figured this town is big enough to have a nightlife and tonight he would embrace it with a warming hug. A week of passing by the homes and towns of loved ones but not being able to stop in out of fears is heartbreaking, even for those whose hearts beat with tainted blood. But it had to be done; he had to be far enough away to never be recognized.
Quite a name that has to travel seven hundred miles and after last week it would stretch easily further still. It's like trying to out run a tidal wave. There was much farmland on the outskirts of Acanta and barns if well boarded made fine resting places. Farms also provided a source of food without disrupting too much on such short notice of arrival. He had his fill and found a cozy spot for a day of sleep out of sight and out of mind unless so choose the farmer to venture forth that cold day.
There was one less cow eating hay in the open fields that were finally starting to free themselves of their snowy wrappings. A voice a sweet voice was what he heard out of the darkness that was sleep and it said. "Wake up, wake up Roma you must go, you must go now quickly, quickly now, Wake up and go!" The heat, the hell flames burn higher, cinder, spark, ash and smoke, 'What is this feeling he thought.' Warm to warm the coldest skin. Eyes saw orange and brilliant red and threw the barn a mob and in their heads a secret. He'd been found out.
He rose with not too much passion wanting to address this matter quickly and decisively. He didn't fear the flames or the mob. Moreover, it was his own loneliness and the thought that he would never ever be rid of that that he was coming to fear. Should he show himself to them and kill them all then go or just leave quietly and quickly and be sorry for disturbing them. Innocence is what the weak and meager posses. While the strong are eternally damned and stained with the blood of the innocent.
Another long trek awaited him this time he thought it best to not stop till he reached the ocean there he would catch a ship off this accursed land to find a new home one where he hadn't tainted that which he once held so sacred. It is a troubled affair of the heart when one damages ones homeland, and or has to say goodbye to that which mothered it. Sweet supple bosom nurse and fed, sickness killed and festered.
The rugged land eventually gave way to a soft beach and a port town. With that he fed and the townspeople spoke of the curse reaching the edges of the land but the travelers leaving had nothing but merriment. They believed they were in a way becoming free of fear when in reality the shadow loomed even closer as it slept in their beds. As they ran so did it searching just as any animal does for a home to live in peace.
~
Roma kept a journal, over the years, its pages filled, and he had to get another and another and another, hundreds then thousands of pages documenting his day-to-day affairs and historical events. History allows us to reflect on the past and learn or forget. History as it is never changes it's the future that writes itself. Roma would reread his
writings every year and sort of reflect and meditate on the matters of the past so that he might go forward unhindered.
He had done this for as long as he could remember and perhaps even longer. Maybe he only remembered because he could turn back the pages and almost step back. He was sure however those pages where the things that stay most fresh. If he didn't write it down it faded quickly like a beautiful sunset. Paintings were the same a vivid image to hold and gaze upon with both of the minds eyes.
Hold on tight to the past lest you enter the future unprepared. The words of his father rang like a whip snap in his ears. It was about time for him to settle down for the time being just a few more things he had to do before he could rest for the future ahead; it always seemed closer right before he rested.
User Reviews
Submitted by Benny (user info) at 2005-10-21 02:44:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I could swear that I read the first version of this a long time ago. There was quite a few grammatical errors in this. One example which was very strange was "he bloated" instead of "he gloated".
I agree with Fabit that this seemed to wander all over the place at various times. It would be better if you stayed focused rather than typing any idea as soon as it comes into your head.
Having said all of that I did think this was pretty good and worth continuing.
Submitted by Fabit (user info) at 2005-10-20 04:01:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
This wasn't bad but the english was terribly disjointed because sentences would randomly make no sense. Try not to let your mind wonder too much, just concentrate on what you are writing and it should flow better.
Also don't try and write in Olde english or using dramatic phrases if you don't understand them yet, it makes it read weirdly.
Finally! This post would have been better if you had made into 3 or 4 posts and filled it out a bit.
Other than that a good idea.
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-10-20 02:40:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by bowser (user info) at 2005-10-20 02:37:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
tl;dr