He believed he had been done an injustice. His kind and their image had been done the most unfair injustice through the ages. He often tossed this thought around in his pale bold head. He thought about it as he watched the man through the skylight window. The man roused from his sleep in a startle. From a nightmare or from the eerie presence he thought he felt, he wasn’t certain. The creature followed him along the top of the roof, scaling it like a deathly cat. Its claws quietly scratching the concrete ceiling, crawling stealthily to the hallway as the unsuspecting man walked through his mansion toward the kitchen. The hallway’s roof and walls are made entirely of glass, a sickle of a moon, cut in faint shards of moonlight. The man yawned unaware of the movement above him. This creature, unable ! to cast a shadow because it’s soul is cursed to roam between the heavens and hell forever. The man stopped and looked skyward. A chill ran through his body when he did not see the strange presence he felt. It’s a shame his blueblood cannot keep him warm the creature thought to itself. But he had learnt long ago that nobles had no fire in their blood; that they were spineless creatures that trembled when their wealth or greedy existence were threatened. The man stopped. His heart beat through his chest with fear. Something in his head screamed, telling him to return to his bedroom. Whether his chambers were safer it did not matter, but proceeding further surely did not sit well with him. The man turned on the ball of his heal to face his bedroom door but could not proceed further, the presence wouldn’t let him. He could feel it now, consuming him and molesting him with its darkness. Tap-Tap-Tap. Tap-Tap-Tap. The creature’s long sharp nails tap at the glass wall. Beads of s! weat rolled down the side of the man’s forehead and his heart ! violentl y punched through his ribs. Music to the creature’s goblin-like ears.”Let me in”, the voice says from behind the man. The man was reluctant to look back and face his vile visitor. “N-n-n-no”, is the only thing he could mutter considering all the effort he put in to try and speak. The strange presence-heavily overwhelming-was almost crushing him. He fluttered like a featherless bird fallen from its mother’s nest, and now in the clutches of this evil incarnate. “Look at me.” This time, the man failed to resist the command. He turned slowly toward the direction of the voice; the sickening grasp seemed to multiply tenfold. When their eyes met, the man melted into relaxation, the yellow eyes caressing his very essence.”Let me in”. This time, the man’s words escaped his lips with ease, “Come in”. His last words lingered in the air as the thing crashed through the glass and clamped its jaws at the man’s pulsating jugular. When the crea! ture had its blood thirst quenched, it left. But not before it intentionally stayed long enough to give the concerned maid a glimpse of its shadowy figure.
Indeed humans had done his species an injustice, with their pop culture and glamorisation of the once feared Nosferatu. Vampires had been made into the poster child for the mind rot that was what humans called ‘horror films’. They knew nothing of true horror. The times had forced vampires to creep back into the shadows and let childish myth of the undead to sprout into a life of its own and spiral out of control. Radu despised humans for their lack of respect for the once revered demon. His yellow eyes burnt with contempt as he walked deep into the forest. Away from the frail civilisation that held nothing sacred anymore. Nocturnal wildlife scampered at the very feel of Radu’s presence as he pierced deeper into the dark woodland. The tall bark of centuries old trees creaked in fear, they still remembered the legends of the Nosferatu. The legend of the true vampire. His powder white lips spread into a smile. At least something still told his lost tales. The cold wind stopped ! when Radu came to a halt and planted his bare feet in the ground, his clawed bony toes raking the damp ground. He did not have the luxury of a coffin. He had to burrow through the black soil and slumber deep in the earth, in fear of the wretched sunlight. That symbol of all that is pure and good. He spat at the notion, his saliva a mix of blood and phlegm. His hate only subsided when he had covered his head in the dirt and thought of the prospects of the next night.
Though he loathed a myriad of them, human horror films sometimes amused him. He would scale the building of a local movie complex and watch these films through a crack or opening in a dilapidated roof or wall. On this night it was not amusing, not the in the least bit. It showed vampires that walked during the day and sparkled when they met the sunlight. Radu knotted his hairless eyebrows and his bat-like nostrils flared in disgust. He could watch no more. He then sat patiently waiting for the movie to end; a human patron would have to pay tonight for this transgression against his kind. And as sure as the sun sets, the humans flocked like sheep when the film had ended. Couples of them usually walked slower or stayed behind to see if there was a teaser after the credits of the movie. Two teenage boys strayed into his sight. One of them made his plot easier by walking ahead to talk on his wireless. Radu moved with frightening speed and abducted the unsuspecting human, shootin! g straight up into the night sky. His friend saw only a blur and began to call into the darkness hoping he’s only playing a prank. The boy’s intestines caved within him and he soiled himself when his lost friend suddenly rolled off a roof like a bloody rag-doll. The drained boy’s head hitting the pavement like an overripe tomato with his entrails ripped out. The lost boy’s supper oozed out to his brains. Food for thought Radu thought to himself as he wiped his wrist across his bloody mouth. His hate only briefly abated, he craved more blood, he must strike more fear. The vampire ran through the night, stalking more prey.
They reeked of alcohol. He could smell it in their blood. When he drank of heavily intoxicated human blood, even he got briefly inebriated. The three humans passed around cigarettes in an alley near a club. Radu made himself seen under a flickering light, blatantly basking in all its effect. The humans stopped their mindless babble, staring at the skulls Radu used to craft his belt. Before their slow minds could realise what was happening, he was at their throats in a black flash. He was wasteful with these ones; he chose not to drain them entirely. Flesh gave way to sharp enamel as it was torn away from the vermin humans’ gullets. One of them fell to his face as his knees hit the ground and his back arches, his buttocks to the sky. How is that for a new moon, Radu thinks to himself as he wipes his mouth with his wrist. It would soon be morning; Radu must seek the protection of the dirt blanket once more.
As he lay in his newly acquired grave, he remembered a time, centuries ago, in the old country. The time when they lead the virgin boy through the graveyard, on a white virgin stallion to find Radu. The local villagers had known of his presence and seeked to put an end to the disappearance of their cattle and relatives. They identified his grave by the holes in the ground and began to perform their pagan rituals. The humans had made the fatal mistake of coming at night. The night belonged to Radu; he owned it and drew power from its darkness. He rose from the soil in all his undead glory. The humans trembled in fear and the horse baulked, Radu would have a feast fit for him. Ah, the good old days.
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