Musings of an Immortal (Part One)

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"You could be a queen. No, a goddess. An immortal goddess, free from death and all of life's pain."

A tale of sweet seduction fraught with hateful bitterness.

Genevieve Nicolette is the victim of unrequited love. She's the obsession of a ruthless vampire. He's heartless and yet he swears he loves her. But when Genevieve gives him the proverbial cold shoulder this sadistic monster will stop at nothing to get her, the one he believes to be his mate.
Killing, torture, savage cruelty are all within his forte. And when he wants something, he's relentless until he achieves his desires.
Genevieve and everyone she knows and loves is in danger of this immortal's unforgiving wrath.


15. Chapter Thirteen

Barnabas waited four days before he called upon Genevieve, little time to an immortal, if he made her wait, she would be all the more excited to see him. The four days seemed longer than usual for Barnabas, but it is true all good things to those who wait. So he came to dinner, an apparent surprise to Genevieve, her mother had neglected to inform her.

He was careful to never stray from what was expected of a gentleman, he ate the food put before him, although he would undoubtedly throw up the contents later, it never failed to happen whenever he would dine on mortal food.

It was hard for Barnabas to leave her that night, he so wanted to get to know her better. Patience was never his strong suit, not even when he was a mortal, yet alone now, virtues meant little to him, what use were virtues to such an unholy creature. His soul was damned, there was no need to worry about recompense, his sins were his own to carry and he never expected forgiveness. Never desired forgiveness.

Mortals dreams are easily manipulated, he could visit Genevieve's dreams, make her see any reality he chose. So he did visit her in her dreams.


Barnabas became a constant presence around Genevieve, he called upon her many times in the evenings following the dinner at her home. He could tell she was still a little awkward around him, although he had visited her week after week, he knew that the unease was due to the fact of what he was. Mortals have a strong sense of preservation as well, the have an uncanny ability to sense danger, and that was exactly what Barnabas was, a danger.

Genevieve had a strong moral compass, he delighted in her mortal weakness, for she was the mirror opposite of him, she had become his obsession, his muse. 

Evangeline was always there, in the shadows, Barnabas knew she lusted after him, but he couldn't hold much more of a dislike for her than he did, it was only for Genevieve's sake he hadn't disposed of that nuisance. She flirted with him behind her sister's back, and sometimes even in front of her. He imagined even her blood would be bitter to the taste, how could sweet blood flow through such a girl. He knew full well that was impossible, but that's how much of a disdain he held for her, his contempt grew day by day when he saw the way she treated her sister. Never right out did she show her meanness, she kept it hidden well, and went about her evil deeds sneakily. He had to praise her on that account, she was a great liar, and an excellent deceiver.

Barnabas knew Genevieve was too proper to give herself to a man she didn't intend to wed, so, he did the only he could think of. He asked for her hand in marriage, and although it took a bit of persuasion she did say yes in the end. As he knew she would, he knew she couldn't resist his charm and he played upon that.


So it was on the eve of Genevieve's eighteenth birthday Barnabas had made up his mind to claim her virtue, or at least try, he would not force her, he was certain she wouldn't revoke his advances. He had promised to wed her, what more could she want from him.

They went for a walk, he brought her to a clearing, it was there he decided he would try to seduce her. Barnabas pulled her to him, he placed his lips tenderly to her, he kissed her intensely. He could feel her hesitation, but she didn't pull away so he kissed her passionately again, his lips moved over her's, never had a kiss given him so much life before. He could hear her heart palpitating, her body shivered as he leaned her back onto a tree.

He pulled back just enough to see her reaction, he wanted to see if the look on her face, was one of that of enjoyment. Delight filled him when he saw she did enjoy their embrace, so he brought his lips to her ear, and he breathed out in allurement a single question, he asked her if he may kiss her again. Her eyes closed she shook her head yes timidly, a smile spread across his pale lips, she stretched to kiss him, but she was far too short. So he lowered his head until his lips met her's.

You will love me. You will be mine, Genevieve.

Just as he was confident she would give in to him, positive she would give him her virtue, she pulled away. After a brief exchange of words, he pulled her forcefully back to him. "Then show me you love me" came his impassioned words.

He ran his lips down her cheek, he kissed her neck softly. He felt the intense yearning of the beast in that moment, he wanted to strike, dig his fangs into the lily white flesh of her throat. He fought the urge away, which wasn't easy, he craves her blood, but he craved her more. He pulled the lace tie of her dress with his nimble fingers, unfastening it.

Much to his surprise, she struck him, if it wasn't for his caring about her, he would her lashed out, snapped her neck with his bare hands. 

It was then he realized he loved her and would stop at nothing to get her.


It was a simple matter for Barnabas to tempt one of the maids to come to the woods with him, he promised her the time of her life, a chance to be thrown into sweet passion with him. And Rosie was all too eager to join him, she didn't care about bedding her mistress's fiancé. He told her no one would be able to see them in the woods, the house however already had guests arriving, and therefore they could be caught. He knew that he would enjoy her flesh, but that wasn't the only reason he called her to the woods, he needed to feed. He had been tempted to feed from Genevieve, and that woke the blood lust within him, and since he couldn't bring himself to feed from Genevieve, he lured the young maid.

While in the midst of taking the maid's body, he was interrupted by a familiar smell, Genevieve. He knew she was near, that she was watching, but it was too late to stop. As the maid groaned, Barnabas's fangs came down, reading to strike, the maid's eyes widened as he sunk his fangs into her neck. He slurped loudly on her blood, thoroughly enjoying his meal. He fed on Rosie hungrily until she was dead, he heard the soft rustle in the bushes, this he knew was Genevieve running away in horror. 

He didn't chase after her, for he knew she was too smart to tell other's what she saw, who would believe such a fantastic story, no one certainly. Plus, she would be deathly afraid of him hurting her, and therefore would keep her mouth shut.

He would take care of Genevieve later, that night he made plans to visit her. Right now he thoughts were on the disposing of Rosie's body.


As Barnabas stood in the dark recesses of Genevieve's room, he made her dream of him and her together, as immortal lovers. He stood back quietly, as he watched her awake with a start. Sweat ran down her pale body, she physically shivered. He was amused as he watched her walk to the window, he could hear her bare feet hit the floor with every step, and she carried herself lightly, no mortal would have been able to hear her steps. Her nightgown fluttered about her feet, like the dainty wings of a butterfly, as she made her way to the window. Her beauty only intensified when the moon's rays hit her, it illuminated her fragile, pale china like skin.

He wanted to hold her in his arms more than anything else, he was overcome by his lust. 

"Look, my dear, even the moon longs to touch you. Just as I do."

He bared his fangs when he smiled, she jumped to her feet and backed away fearfully. And who could blame her, there was much about Barnabas to fear. He longed to touch her skin, but when he reached for she pulled away.

"I saw you in the bushes, " he said in a barely audible whisper, his smile ever widening, "No, I smelled you in the bushes, but, you have no need to fear me. I wouldn't harm you. Not you."

Not as I have the others. 

His nails had dug into her wrist when he pulled her out of the corner to him, therefore she bled. He bowed his head, knelt down, and licked the blood from her wounds. He traced the gouges with his tongue, not a single drop fell to the floor. He hadn't intended to scratch her, but now that he tasted her blood, he wanted it even more. When he stood he tried to kiss her, but she turned away from him. 

With that, she demanded to know what he was, and so he told her. But she didn't like what he told her, although she must have known what he was before he spoke, she wasn't by any means foolish. She drew back, wanting to avoid him, and his touch.

"Don't fear me" he came closer, "I care for you. I shall not lie a finger on you."

He body convulsed with fear, "You are a monster."

His anger began to rise, all be it true, he didn't like being called a monster. She continued.

"You are incapable of caring for someone. I want nothing to do with you. You creature of death."

Hot embers burned behind his eyes, even their color shifted to a shade of red, she couldn't see them in the darkness, though.

Her voice stopped trembling, "I could never love you, you are the epitome of evil."

His blood boiled, the beast was near ready to strike. He grasped her by her throat, he squeezed just enough she got his message. "I could hurt you if I wanted to," he let go, "I choose not to."

I can't.

He left her with a warning, "Please Genevieve, I beg of you, don't make me chase after you. You will regret it. I always get what I want."

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