Proud and Precious

What exactly is a vampire? A legend or a mare virus? This, Elizabeth, is bound to figure out in this story.


1. Prologue

I ran my hands over the velvet sheets, closed my eyes and enjoyed the faint odour of vanilla. I took a deep breath, held it - and let it out. I made snowangels in the bed and felt my hands graze against the fured cushions above my head. I let my thoughts get wrapped around the song playing on the gramophone. It was so soothing; so quiet; meaningful yet simple. A love worth hating.

    I opened my eyes and stared up the ceiling. It was like a girl was lying there.

    Her bright red hair was spread out like a graceful curtain on the violet, shining sheets. Her lips, mimmicking the song, was blood red; her eyes cold blue. If it wasn't for the movement under her chest, her skin would be pale enough for her to be counted as a beautiful corpse. The thin, white nightgown made her look more than tempting in a young mans eye. Her goddess-like legs were running along the sheets, making it crumbling, then smooth and so on.

    Suddenly her red painted nails dug down the mattress and her upperbody shot up. Her key shaped pendant left her chest and fell down beside her neck on the covers.

    Her face twisted to the side as spasm shot through her body.

    Her beutiful red lips parted as she gasped for air.

    She reached for her chest region and dug in her fingernails - she tried to rip her heart out. Whilst this, blood was gushing from both the wound and her mouth.

    Our eyes met - the eyes weren't blue anymore; the pupils were so big, that they covered her whole eye. Her porcelean skin turned sickly pale and the skin around her eyes turned dark.

    Small screams escaped her gaping mouth as her flowing blood slowly turned more and more dark, until it's colour were completly black - it was around there her blood stopped, and her body became still.

    The ceilings mirror had shown me my very own death.



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