The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

01:51 May 27 2008
Times Read: 739








To the reader of this account, madness has found me once more, and I put these memories into written words as insurance. Last night I walked, lost in my own thoughts as always. Two men stepped out from behind the oak tree that shades a crumbling brick tomb. Unaware, I had no time to react.



The thin man swept my feet from under me and pinned my throat with his walking stick. His insectile eyes crawled across my body, like graveyard spiders. My mind raced into action, desperately trying to think of a way to reverse the situation and escape. That was when the fat man stepped forward.



He wore a flamboyant suit of green silk, the tie knotted perfectly under several extra chins which spilled over his collar, all of which further strengthened his keen likeness to a frog. He dabbed absurdly at his generous jowls with a lace handkerchief that wafted a sickening scent of lilac water toward me.



"Where is it?," the toadish dandy demanded. "You will find that I am not so easily tricked." He registered my surprise with clear pleasure. "Yes, we know about Venuto." He leaned down with some difficulty and smoothed my blouse across my breasts. As he did so, his fingertips absently brushed my collarbone. The feel of his icy fingers, moist from perspiration, sent a wave of revulsion through my body. I swallowed my scream and felt Spider Eyes shiver through the stick at my throat.



I had no intention of speaking. This was not my first experience with Nicomedo muscle. He continued after righting himself once more, a feat not unlike the near-capsizing of a great ship, listing precariously on storm waves.



"Have you become such a mouse, strega Toscana? I wonder then how Venuto came to have such a pretty face." His chuckle did little to warm me; his voice was as feminine as the kerchief that now fluttered as he mopped at a third chin. "The bandages only just came off a few months ago. He will never see through that eye again. I'm sure he thinks of you each time he sees the reflection of the new face you gave him."



Had circumstances had been different, I would have celebrated such welcome news. Frog spoke again, his voice softer, malevolent, and my stomach turned at the cruelty in his pinched little eyes. "Where is it? Tell me, leonessa, or I assure you, this will not end well for you."



At this, Spider Eyes hissed through thin lips, chapped raw from his nervous habit of licking and licking at them. If the Nicomedi wanted me dead, I would have been dead long ago. What more could they do to me after all that had happened?



I closed my eyes and concentrated. I felt the ground immediately become less solid below me and the pressure of the walking stick but a slight inconvenience at my throat. I heard what sounded like a woman screaming and the connection of a blunt impact, but no matter; I was already falling backward through the hole I ripped open in my mind.



When next my eyes opened, I was on my side beneath the oak. Hours must have passed, because the cicadas were well into their night music and the shadows had deepened to a still, bluish-black. Blinking the events forward in my mind, I sensed, too, that I was alone. I ran shaky hands across my body and face. The worst of it appeared to be my right temple. I remembered the flashy copper trim on the foppish boots of the frog-like man. He must have landed a quick kick to bring me round, to no avail. I have few defenses against evil, but I own the ones I do have.



I sat up slowly, inching my sore body toward the old oak, my faithful confidant, until I could rest my back against the scarred trunk. I swallowed with some difficulty and spoke aloud for the first time in weeks, "I am surprised that I am still clothed, my old friend. They grow bolder. Their filth spills out from beneath the false face of aristocracy they wear. Did you see those two? They were malignant even for the Nicomedi. For now, they will not overtly harm me, but the quaint sham of their manners will soon disappear." I reached my hand to the side and stroked the rough bark affectionately with skinned palms. "And what will we do then, caro? How will we keep our secret then?"

Send a sign, my love
01:45 May 26 2008
Times Read: 748

Words and the earth hold me to this place, my hideaway, my prison.



I would blood the earth, a sacrifice to any god who would bring me but a single word of you.



I fear that you are dead, but only when the sun is baking the land.



In the cool, deep night I feel your breath at my back. Are you in the North wind?



I have gathered the dry leaves blown from that direction, smelling them, desperate even for false hopes of a trace of you.



It is too long.



I wait still.