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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Contest Entry · #1570857
A story of the death of a vampire.
      There are only two things I fear in this world, two things that make my demise certain.  The sun and water, water and the sun, no matter how it is said, how it is uttered, it all has the same meaning…my death.  The red hot sun and the cool blue water determine whether I will remain the living dead or a pillar of brittle gray dust.  I prefer the first scenario but my captures feel that if my ashes were scattered into their summer winds it would make their world a better place, but this is only a lie that masks reality. 

        Their plan is simple, to kill me.  It will be slow and painful, done with a method of torture these hunters swear by.  They use their rage and anger towards my kind as a motive to rid their world of things like me. I wish they truly understood, all I want is to feed…on them.  Then again maybe they do understand.  Nonetheless, I have been captured and placed in an iron coffin.  They drag me through the trails of the forest where I’m positive my fallen brethren were dragged through at the point of their ends.  It is their way, their ritual to take us on this rough journey before sending us to our second deaths.

         I dread that my nights stalking are no more.  I will never again taste the rich metallic blood flowing from the neck of a sweet delicate human. I will never again feel its thickness coat my tongue and throat, replenishing me to strength and vigor.  No more shall I hear the quaint screams from a young woman who has just looked upon my face and realized that it will be the last image that will grace her eyes. Nor will I fight resisting men, young and old, who can not protect their loved ones from me.  My unmoving heart swells from my memories and draws the remembrance of that bitter-sweet substance on my lips.  If only I had one last taste, one last hoorah before I am destroyed.  Will these hunters grant me that?  No, they will not. I know they will not be as generous, as I have not been so to their kind. 

         I hear the cool running of the stream ahead.  As the water flows with power and force I weaken.  I feel my muscles relax and my body began to wilt.  What a terrible way I must meet my end.  I hear their foot steps cease and the roar of the stream becomes annoying louder.  Its babble irritates my ears and mind like a thousand chattering voices.  I'm at the point of paralysis. I am useless now. The lid slides open and my still eyes see the darkness is soon to be day.  The hunters look down on me with disgust and dismay, their spittle acting as temporary hydration for my dried skin. 

        Their destination is perfect.  No trees to block the rays of the sun. It is quiet with the only population being me and my enemy, them and theirs.  I hear them settle and quiet.  I feel my face and body being slowly taken over by flames.  My mind is insane with the urge to survive.  Unfortunately, I will not. I am doomed, as I have always been.       
© Copyright 2009 QuietQueen (qumoha at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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