CursedTruth

PART 1

"And his ivory fangs pierced my neck as I surrendered to him under the light of the moon. I could not fight him any longer- my strength for the struggle gone. A desire so rich flooded my body as his arms crushed me in their grip, pulling me against him. The chill of his body seeped through our sheer cloths as he held me, drawing from me the life I cherished. My arms felt heavy as I reached up, gripping his shirt tightly in my hands."

I smiled at her. "Well, what do you think?"

She sat there, staring back at me, shaking her head, her eyes wide.

I couldn't help but chuckle. "That bad, huh?"

"No...." She paused, breathing deeply as she looked in my eyes. "That...that was brilliant. Good Lord...I need a cold shower."

I tilted my head back, laughing. "Nora!" Well, it was true that she was never afraid to say anything and I mean anything.

"What, Amara? That was good. So dark, seductive, and thrilling. Gives a whole new meaning to the phrase, 'bite me'." She winked at me and rose, walking back to the table.

I went back to my work, calling after her. "Thanks, Nora!" I busted out laughing again as I heard the shower running. She really was a nut. No doubt about it.

Nora and I had been reading each other's stories for years. She was a brilliant writer, good with the dialogue and I handled the details. Together, we made an amazing team. Whenever one of us got stuck, the other was always there, firing off questions that gave us the drive we needed to go on. It was a great partnership, but lately, my inspiration had been coming from somewhere darker, something hidden deep inside of me, deep inside of all of us. I craved the tingling sensation on my arms, the prickling feeling on my neck and the cold chills that ran up my spine. Something dark, something forbidden. The eyes shining in the darkness, the shadows creeping along the walls. They all fed some force that brought me to this point, where I wrote of the unknown, the feared- the creatures of the night. That's right- vampires.

While in the back of my mind, I was a little apprehensive about this sudden dark obsession, I couldn't stop the thoughts. The long coats billowing out behind them in the chilly night air and the sinister seduction as they lured you to a dark corner, drawing from you all that you possessed. He lifts you into the sky, treading on the stars as you dance in the moon's rays. One fatal kiss and you forever belong to him, your bodies linked by that crimson tide that floods within the two of you. His icy hands moves down your arms as you struggle to keep your eyes open, helpless against his natural charms. His voice, barely a whisper, lulls you to sleep as his lips brush against your neck. A pin prick, sweet torture- a pain like none you've ever known, and yet, his cheek brushing yours soothes your cries. One look in his eyes and you are lost forever, eternally captured, under his spell.

All these images haunted me. It was time to write, now, before the visions slowly faded and the euphoria that swallowed me ebbed away. My fingers flew over the keys as the words poured forth from somewhere deep inside. Closing my eyes, I could see him clearly, as if he was standing before me. His dark hair flowed in ripples down over his shoulders, the blonde strands shining in the moonlight. His piercing gray eyes surveyed me, seeing straight into my heart, my soul. His lips were full, perfect as he smiled, showing off brilliant teeth, those two standing out from all the rest, razor sharp and fascinating. His face was smooth, not a line visible as he loomed over me, his hands on my shoulders, looking into my eyes. I mean, her eyes. Yes, her eyes, her shoulders. Not me. Her.

The silk folded beneath my hands as he pulled me closer, my heart beating slower with each passing minute. I cried out, but my cries only made him bolder, pressing me into him as he took one last drink, pulling away from me as a searing pain shot through my neck. The wounds seemed larger than they were as all the nerves in the my skin screamed in agony. I heard his voice, soft and soothing as he ran his hand down my hair, brushing my cheek gently with the backs of his fingers.

"You are weak, no?"

I nodded, unable to speak as I stared into his unforgiving eyes, so haunting.

"Yes, I thought so. Your skin, pale. Your breaths, short and shallow. Your heart beat, slower than before, yet it is still pounding, is it not?"

Pounding? Yes, that about covers it, I believe. It was beating so hard, fighting against my body, as I struggled to think, fought to breathe. "Yes."

He smiled, just slightly, barely showing his teeth as he looked down on me, his arms still holding my nearly limp body close to him. "Forgive me, but my love, you have only yourself to blame. This, this state you find yourself in, is all your fault."

I gasped softly as he smiled again, a strange warmth shining in his eyes. "My fault? But you came to me."

"Oh yes, but my dark darling, you called for me. Those haunting songs that you sang by the candlelight. Those words you read, beckoning me to come and take you away. Is this not what you wanted?" He asked, his arms pulling me closer, forcing me against him.

I thought back, knowing I had done this things, but thinking, all the time, that they didn't exist. A figment of someone's unhinged mind. A dream that flees upon waking. A story your parents told you to trick you into behaving. Silence your cries before the vampire comes to take you away. It seems...I was wrong.

"Answer me." I looked up into his face, staring into his eyes, searching to see past the surface. It was flooded with a lingering sadness, a harsh truth realized somewhere far back in his life, a curse over what he had become. He would wander forever, watching the death as it consumed every new life that was born into this world. I felt such pity for this creature. An insane notion, I know, but I could not help myself.

I whispered, captivated once again by his strange beauty. "Yes."

A chill, as common as breathing now, crept up my arms. I knew, from that, that this was right. This was what was supposed to be said. I heard the soft rustling of fabric and turned, a cool breeze slipping over my bare arms and over my neck as the curtains twisted gently in the night air. I rose from my chair and walked to the French doors that stood slightly open. Peering into the darkness, I saw nothing. I nodded, remember Nora had again left the doors open, just before she ran off to get ready for her date with Don, or Dave, or Derek. Something with a "D", I think.

I closed the doors and turned the lock, pulling the curtains over the windows, looking out one last time. This was nonsense. Stop it, Amara. There is nothing out there. Go back to your writing. It seemed like a perfect place to stop. Anything could happen next, anything. I needed time to dream, to imagine, to decide on where this would take our dear protagonist as she struggled against the dark forces at work around her and those warring inside her.

Smiling to myself, I logged onto The Writer's Lament- a forum for writers of all ages and genres to post whatever they had. With a few taps and clicks, I had my story ready to be posted, but then came the daunting task yet again: a title. I needed a title and Nora was nowhere near to give me one. I simply could not wait for some kind of feedback on this, so I set to coming up with my own, scanning the lines I had written for something, anything that stood out above all else. "Cursed Truth, Shining Silk". That covered it, didn't it? The horrible realization that somewhere out there in the night, these beings lurk in shadows- the cursed truth. Then, the other side, the beautiful danger of it all- the shining silk- seemingly harmless, but even it can be used against you. Yes, perfect.

Post.

Yes, post it, please. I sat back as the confirmation message flashed upon the screen. With a strange sense of pride and accomplishment, I signed out and flicked off the screen, crawling under my thick blankets that protected me from the chill of the night.

PART 2

A warm glow spread across me as I turned under the heavy covers of my bed. So, I forgot to shut the blinds. I close the curtains and forgot to shut the blinds. Oh, boy. I got up, groaning and stretching, my body stiff. I stalked over to the blinds and shut them with a snap. Blasted sunlight, especially when I'm trying to sleep. Tossing and turning, I knew as I closed my eyes that I'd never recover that dream. It was too good to come back again. It was just a flash, blonde hair and cold blue eyes, stars falling away behind, wind whipping around me. I groaned, pulling the pillow over my head. It was gone...gone. Gone! There was no use laying here any longer. I got up, shooting a hard glance toward the blinds. Oh, infernal sun, ruining my dream.

Throwing the covers back again, I climbed out of bed, feeling the cold floor beneath my feet. I felt a shiver run up me, one that I didn't notice before as I went on the mission to stop the light and recapture my dream. But now, the floors seemed colder and the air crisper than before. Right, air conditioning. Sliding the satin robe over my shoulders, I walked to the computer, one of my dearest friends now in the silence of the morning, and turned it on, waiting for it to come alive.

As the screen flashes, I waited, drumming my fingers lightly on the desk. I only had one purpose and it seemed as though completing my mission would take forever. Finally, after ages of waiting and threats, I was cruising through the wires, combing the websites, waiting for The Writer's Lament to find me once again. It was always the first place that crossed my mind, but had become the last place I would check. I knew that once I entered the realm of words, I would be lost forever, never wanting to venture back out for something as seemingly pointless as breaking news or security updates. Transported to another place, another time, I was free as I read the words, felt the emotions pouring from my screen, and saw the details in all their building splendor. It was a beautiful transformation, a wicked escape. It was thrilling, it was insane, and I loved every moment of it. But today, as the sun forced its way through the cracks, I had a different purpose. It wasn't to fly away, but to see how many others I had captured with my story of the night before.

I had only posted it hours before, but I had hoped that somewhere some other person who could not feel the hands of sleep upon them had found themselves running between my words, letting themselves be caught in the tangles that formed. As my eyes scanned the screen, I saw that someone had indeed found themselves tripping among my work. Several someones, in fact. I read the comments, a slight smile forming as their praise unfolded before me. I scrolled down, frame by frame, seeing all the variations of 'nice work' or 'I loved it.' or 'You can't stop there'. I smiled again. Oh, but that was the beauty of it. I could stop there. I could, and I did. Clicking onto the next page, I was caught off guard by another entry, longer than the others, simple and written in bold red. So different from the default of white on the clear, black background.

I looked at the name and saw that this was the first post. Nothing before and nothing since. I laughed to myself. Of all the threads in all the forums in the world, this person had to post in mine. I glanced the the left of the post. Well, TheImmortalOne, no wonder you found yourself in my thread. Let's see what our dark friend has to say. I felt a chill as I read his words:

ScarletLace,
Ma Chere, these words you write would send a normal mortal into another world, making them forget the evil that we are.

That we are? And just what are you, TheImmortalOne? I read on, intrigued. Another roleplayer perhaps. Another dark and brooding soul, sitting in the dark, listening to his sullen music and dreaming of endless life.

Perhaps, you're thinking I'm playing with you. Another lost soul dreaming of that gift which only takes away. Yes, I know you do. You must, for what sensible person would make such claims as these.

Alright, this is getting interesting. I looked at these words and shook my head, not believing it for a minute. Even if this person did want to play mind games, at least I could have a little fun. Shall we carry on? Yes, we shall. Or I shall. Right.

Whether you believe or not is of no importance. You will see one night that your cursed truth that you speak of is real. Some night when the fog is heavy and the air damp with the threatening storm, you will see, that those which frighteningly entrance you are real. Until that night, I tell you this. Your story, your words, they soothe me. Do not leave me here, teetering on this edge for long, Cherie. Save me from this torture that you have created. Tell me, what happens to this girl and tell me of this creature of the night that holds her in his arms. What does he look like? What does he see? Better yet, what does she see? What does she know? I await another glimpse into the realm of your genius, dark darling.
Forever,
TheImmortalOne

The chill crept over me as I read those words. His words. He sounded like the creature I had created. He asks and oh, he shall receive. I replied, my deep purple script glistening against the dark of the page.

TheImmortalOne,
Your words do not fall on deaf ears. I shall give what you ask for. In due time, your questions will be answered, but only if you answer mine. How can it be that such simple words soothe a soul as eternal as you claim yours to be? Is your suffering in enternal darkness so great? You play your part well, dear sir. As you await the next part, I await your next message. Until then, I remain:
- ScarletLace

I posted it and left, a strange desire to carry on this story of the immortal, locked in the arms of his mortal prey. Yes, he would have a face. He must be described. Others must see his strange beauty, his alluring eyes. One glimpse of him and they would be captivated, never to stray again. Of course, they views must be addressed. What is the use of sight if one cannot describe what they see so plainly before them? I chuckled to myself. Now this, this is what it meant to be inspired. This was the truth of assistance. This lone creature, reading my work was driving me on. All those other comments amounted to nothing against that one. It was as if he were standing beside me, whispering in my ear the direction in which I needed to go. His last question puzzled me. What does she know? She is being held in the arms of a vampire, drained to the point of endless night and dark enclosures. She knows nothing. She knows only that should he ask, she would permit it. She would become one of them to save herself from the death whose wings beat gently against her cheek. I shuddered, the thoughts unrelenting.

I began to write, filling in the pieces with the drama and flair I knew my readers craved, a sudden change in perspective necessary as the girl weakened. With my newfound spark, I set to work, my fingers flying over the keys once again with unnatural speed as the words came, faster then I could write them. I sighed, nearly tired from the writing. So much had been poured onto this page. So many questions lingering, hints of answers between the double-spaced lines.

She looked into his face, seeing for the first time his eyes which cut through her. Their green fire springing forth, sending warmth across her, creating a paradox within her as she felt the chill creep slowly in. The long lashes, delicate yet seductive, reaching up, brushing his brow as they curled. His skin, smooth as the silk he wore and cold to the touch. It was clear no life flowed in him, none but that which he took from her under the blanket of pure darkness. Looking at him, she knew. She knew it all. This was her last mortal breath should he chose to take it. This was her last heartbeat, should he chose to end it. This was her last chance, should he choose to let her have it, just this once.

He looked down at her, so frail in her mortality. Once more and it would be over. She was so fragile, so delicate, yet her heart beat strong with the iron will to live. Though she was weak, her silver eyes stared defiantly back into his. Though her body sagged in his arm, her eyes remained animate, misgiving of her true state of life. He searched her thoughts, hoping she would give into him, give into the darkness, give into the life of eternal night. But no, not this one. She wanted to, it was clear, but she would not ask for it. She would wait until he could not control it anymore, then he would take it and she would be free from the pain that flooded her mind. She would be free, by his lethal kiss, she would be free.

I sat back, thinking. Would she be free? Was he free, even now? They depended on others for their existence, an existence that they were forced to hide. No one could accept their danger in the dark. They would be hunted, taken from this world and sent to the death they cheated once before. Was it fair? Could they help what they had become? Surely, unlike the woman, they did not call out to become this. They did seek to find that which cannot die. Of course they didn't. Did they?

Chuckling, I saved this part, waiting to post it just before I was overcame with the feelings of exhaustion, the sweet relief of sleep. Perhaps, that was another question TheImmortalOne would ask. Then, I could find an answer. Somewhere, I thought I already knew, but that would wait.

As the hours passed, my eyelids felt heavy with the hours of the day. Glancing out the window, I saw that brilliant speckles of light had replaced the mighty sun. Perhaps it was time for me to let in the night as well. Another click and a confirmation message. It was done, the next part complete and I was on my way to another night of dreams and destinies. Perhaps, my dream would return. Perhaps, that fair-haired guest would knock upon the doors of my slumber and visit me once again.

PART 3

When I awoke this time, it was still night, the stars dotting the blanket of darkness spread across the world. All was silent save for Nora's soft sounds of slumber down the hall, more commonly known as snoring. Blinking several times, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the darkness around me, I sat up in the bed, pushing the covers away as they slid gently to the floor. I glanced to the clock glaring at me from the nightstand. I'd only been asleep for three hours, but I felt refreshed, as though I'd slept all night after someone lulled me to sleep. I climbed out, setting my feet lightly on the floor, to find it just as cold as it had been before. Always so cold, even in the winter. It was as if ice ran under it, forever chilling.

A slight shiver ran across me as I pulled the robe over my shoulders and eased myself down into the chair sitting before my computer. I looked at the screen. Funny. I forgot to turn it off last night. While I was reading a new article, using virtual reality as therapy, an alert flashed across the screen.

You have 2 new messages.

Interesting. I clicked out of the news and clicked on the link in the alert that would carry me away to my beautiful little inbox. Checking it, I saw that both were from The Writer's Lament: a reply to my work and a private message. Sure, it was nothing unusual, but I wanted to see them just the same. Curious and with nothing better to do, I made my way to The Writer's Lament forum, wondering who they were from. For just a moment, I hoped they would be from TheImmortalOne, but I quickly pushed the thought away, reminding myself that all comments are much appreciated, no matter how simple.

A quiet smile came across my face as I saw that TheImmortalOne had indeed replied. And what does my dark fiendish friend have to say this time around? I scrolled down, awaiting his eloquent words that would have my brain racing again.

ScarletLace,

Good Evening, Ma Chere. How lovely it is your reading this. I do put so much into it just for you.

I laughed softly, careful not to wake Nora. Flattery will get you nowhere, sir, but go on. I'm rather enjoying this.

Reading this, it's as if you were reading my mind. All the questions I had, answered, but still, I wonder other things about this story, more questions that your brilliance has raised. Particularly about the author, you, ScarletLace. All that will come in due time. For now, you must tell me. Why this girl? Why do you describe him the way you do? Why have you left out the girl's own description? Tell me. I must know. Is there a purpose greater than what I see or do you merely tease me, la petit, enjoying seeing me squirm with curiosity and anticipation? How cruel of you, my dark darling.
As always, I will forgive you, but you must give me more of this story. I must know. Does he take her, make her his eternal bride? You must tell me how it ends. When will she believe in this cursed truth and give into his sinister seduction forever? You kill me, ScarletLace. Soothe my yearnings for more of this soon.
Forever,
TheImmortalOne

I couldn't help but chuckle as I tried to reply. What could I possibly say to this person, begging for more? Like he wanted more of my story, I craved more of his replies. I do believe he was the mind reader, always keeping one step ahead of me, knowing what I needed to do next before it had even become evident to me. What questions could he have about me? Perhaps the same I've had about him. Perhaps, but a small part of me whispered that wasn't true.

TheImmortalOne,

How blessed I feel to hear from you so soon. You questions drive me on, sparking my desire to let my fingers race over the keys once more to keep in time with my neverending thoughts. Since you asked so nicely, I will give you more, but I must ask, let me write it first. Your patience is appreciated. I mean not to be cruel, but thank you for forgiving me. A thousand thanks to you.

Until then,
ScarletLace

And now, to the private messages. What secret desires could this message hold? Clicking into the box, I saw it was only from the friendly moderator giving me her own personal praise for the story. I twinge of disappointment went through me as I read it, wishing I had seen the tiny type of TheImmortalOne with his eloquent words and dark wishes. With a quick and heartless message of gratitude, I left The Writer's Lament, ready to write again. The questions burned through my mind, as did the doubt of my ability to answer them. Mere words could not properly convey the feelings of this creature of the darkness and this weakened mortal as they stood, embracing in the doorstep of death.

His arms nearly crushed her as he held her closer, breathing in the scent of her, the blood flowing weakly through her veins. Looking upon her face that grew more pale with each passing moment, he wondered what had drawn him to her. She was no different from the others, but still, he wished to save her, to give her his only gift of everlasting night with his arms around her. Oh, but this was insane. Love? From a vampire? Was this even possible? As he watched with his stormy eyes, he saw her own eyes, glassed over, but still staring up at him, defiant in her waning struggle. Yes. That is why he had chosen her: the fire that burned within her, the strength she held within her, the ferocity and dangerous beauty deep inside. It did not matter how she looked to the ordinary and overly critical eye. All that mattered was how she appeared to him: strong and unyielding. His charms worked, but only in her weakened state. She had fought for her life, though deep down this way the very thing she had always wanted.

Her lips moved as he gazed upon her, cradled in his arms. The breath flowed over them as she struggled to whisper, fought to make him understand. He wondered if he needed to hear it. It would be the same as all the others, but no, she was not the same. Bending down, his ear near her lips, he listened closely as she tried to push him over his edge which he already teetered upon.

Take it now, you fiend. You know this is what you want. Take it, coward.

He pulled away at her words. No. He would not take her. He could not. She did not deserve this life. Oh, if only he had known before. But wait, he did know. That was the reason he chose her.

Hesitate no more. Do it or you kill me.

Bending his head again, he pressed a soft kiss to her neck before piercing the skin again, feeling the final beat as it slowed to silence. Mere seconds was all he had. He worked his magic, giving her the life of a nightly hunter. Her eyelids fluttered as her beauty grew, her strength etching her new features.

I do, my love. Are you happy now, my eternal bride? There is no turning back from this. You have made your decision and you are now forever mine.

You sweet mercy is nothing compared to the sinister seduction of your soul.

The girl grew stronger as he held her, growing more alive with each second. This cursed truth, that secret which we must keep is hers now. Can she carry this burden? His heart, if one still exists within him, prays she can.

A bride he wants and a bride he shall have. While posting the addition, a wave of weariness overcame me as I laid my head on the desk, the lamplight shining soft upon me. I opened my eyes to darkness, the screen blank before me. For some moments as my eyes began to adjust, I did not notice the complete darkness. The lamp. It was out, but it was not before. Staring at the wall, I saw a shadow lengthen across it, standing behind me, still as the night, a soft rustling in the wind.

PART 4

Blinking repeatedly, I looked to the wall, my heart racing, the pulse resounding in my ears. As I opened my eyes, I saw nothing. I didn't need to. I heard a voice, as if floating across the wind, calling my name.

Amara.

I turned frantically from side to side, but saw nothing. There was no one there. Nothing but the darkness surrounded me, that darkness from which I could not escape. I felt my adrenaline rush as fear overtook me, the instincts battling themselves, pulling me in different directions. A part of me wanted to run, to scream for Nora, but the rest was curious, wanting to find the lips that murmured my name, that shaped that voice, so soft, yet strong.

Finally, I spun around slowly in my chair to see a solid shadow standing before the open French doors, blocking the moonlight that normally shined in so delicately. I never saw him move, but with each passing moment, he grew closer. I watched him, but no matter how hard I tried to peer through the darkness, his face was still hidden to me.

Amara.

"Who are you?" I asked, staring at this figure, noticing from the silhouette that he was wearing a cloak, ancient in its makings.

He walked closer to me, his eyes shining now in the darkness surrounding us. I saw them sparkle, striking green, like fires burning within the purest emeralds.

"You're not as eloquent as I had hoped, Amara."

Not only did I have a large figure looming over me, his eyes captivating me, but I was being insulted. "Oh, dear sir who flies into my humble abode on wings of midnight satin, please tell me your name, let the sound grace my ears, let it flow from my lips. Tell me, I beg you," I said, my heart pounding in my chest. He wanted eloquence. I wanted a name.

"That was well done, my dark darling."

His words sent a shiver through my spine. No way. This wasn't possible.

"Yes, it is."

"What is?"

"It is possible."

"I say again, who are you, sir?" I felt my heart rising into my throat as something akin to fear tried to break through the sheer excitement I felt.

"I am hurt that you have forgotten me so easily," he said sincerely, laying his hand against his heart. "My dear, dear Scarlet Lace...You have forgotten The Immortal One?"

I couldn't help but laugh as I heard this voice breach the distance between us. It had to be some kind of joke. Nora, she had done this. She had set this up to freak me out. That had to be it.

"This has nothing to do with your room mate, Amara," said the masculine voice, sternly, yet quietly, as if he were whispering in my ear though I saw him clearly in front of me.

So, scratch that idea. He stood there and I heard the rustling of fabric. He was crossing his arms, waiting for an answer- an answer from me. Had I forgotten him? Hardly. He lingered in all my thoughts, or at least, his words did.

"It is difficult to forget that which we have never seen, and even harder so to remember. Let me see you and I will tell you if I have forgotten you, or simply failed to remember," I said, knowing he loved these word games we played.

He stepped closer to me as a soft light began to glow from the corner.

"But what is the difference in forgetting and failing to remember?" he asked, taking one step at a time toward me.

"Forgetting is involuntary....you cannot help that which you forget. Failing to remember is a product of freewill. I did not want to remember, so I failed to do so. Understand?" I said, my tone measured, still unsure of what this shadow before me might do.

"Perfectly," he hissed, stepping closer and flinging away his cloak. As he did so, another lamp came on, showering him with soft fluorescent light.

Mon Dieu. It was him.

PART 5

"Yes. Him. Me," he whispered, leaning toward me while his eyes shined, electrically blue against the dark backdrop he had created. "I have haunted your dreams, have I not, ma chere?" he asked, his voice smooth as shining silk.

I stared at him, first in a silent fear, then in awestruck wonder. It was him. The man from my dreams, the one from my stories, the one that haunted my thoughts, waking and sleeping. And now, a true face, but still no name. TheImmortalOne was not enough. Yes, it was plain to see that standing before me, he was a true member of the unnatural phenomena that had haunted folklore for years, but that was not enough. I needed to hear his name, to taste it on my tongue.

"As you teased me with your story, I will tease you with the absence of my name, mon amour," he said and smiled, his teeth shining, his fangs nearly protruding over his bottom lip.

"But I finished the story. The vampire had his bride. Is that not what you wanted?" I asked, my eyes scanning his face, amazed by his skin, his eyes, his hair, all of him.

"That is exactly what I wanted...." he confided in a low tone, causing me to lean forward just to hear him better.

"I gave you what you wanted, then. Sir, I beg you, let me know your name."

"No. First, you will know me."

Before I could stop him, he had closed the gap between us and stood staring into my eyes, his arm wrapped around my waist to prevent me from running. His grip on me was purely for show. One look into his eyes and I was held in place. I felt my heart begin to pound in my chest as the blood began it's quick rush to my cheeks, my skin growing warm as our breaths mingled together.

"What do you want from me?" I asked quietly, my voice shaking only a little as I took in deeper breaths with each passing moment.

"Everything." was his simple reply as he bent down and pressed his cold lips to mine. His strong, yet seemingly delicate hands pulled me against him and I fought hard to repress a shudder, a shiver. He was so cold, like ice as the chill found it's way through the clothes covering me.

My mind began to race as I looked up at him, his eyes reflecting the icy exterior, blue like water, frozen in an instant in perfect flow. He was breathing, I felt the air mingling between us. Surely, he was alive. He spoke, he moved. Of course, he was alive, but so cold. Cold as death, after claiming the warmth of life. Finally, I understood. Undead. Dead and forced to live off of others, to take lives to maintain one. Forever.

I looked over his face, noticing the pale shade of his lips and the tiny veins, spidering out beneath his skin. His eyes refracted and reflected the light, a myriad of colors evident. I leaned forward and felt myself falling headlong into the emptiness before me. I saw nothing but his eyes, the lines and specks flooding my mind as I reeled.

The first mistake. I had stared into those eyes and become entranced, captivated. I was his, unless I could break this hold he had on me.

I felt myself falling, as if into a deep abyss, cold air flutting all around me, brushing against my skin and sending shivers once again down my spine. Darkness surrounded me and though I opened my eyes, I could see nothing. I felt my heart beat harder as a heat spread over me, flushing my cheeks, contrasting against the cold ink of shadows that swallowed me whole. As I gained some bearing, I noticed arms encircling my waist and felt the coarse brush of fabric against my cheek.

"Quiet, cherie," a voice whispered in my ear, silencing the soft cries of protest and fear that came from deep within my throat, so deep that they were an instinct, a reflex and not a conscious thought. My entire body tensed again as he spoke. My hands clenched, gripping the cloak that shrouded him, He had tucked my head beneath his chin, blocking my vision from the things around me. I squirmed and tossed my head, trying to break free, but his grip around me only tightened as he released a low, warning hiss.

"Do you wish for me to drop you?" he said, teeth clearly clenched as he spoke. "One slip and you will fall forever only to be met by the could arms of the sea beneath you. Is that what you want?".

I stopped moving, still unsure which arms were the better choice. It was not a matter of better or worse, safe or dangerous, but a choice of the lesser of two evils, so it seemed. Both appeared so similar as my mind pondered the options. His arms, like the arms of the sea he spoke of, were cold as ice. Both could engulf those within reach, and both held their victims firm, never letting them go. Both seemed alluring and enchanting on the surface, but once you ventured into their world, you were lost with no means of escape. They were a knot that could never be untied, a lock without a key and here I was, bound and chained in the darkness of his arms, like the depths of the frigid sea.

PART 6

Somehow, despite the bitter wind nipping and biting at my cheeks, stinging the soft skin, and the fear gripping my heart and mind, I managed to fall asleep. How long I slept, I know not; only that when I awoke, I felt revived, as if a new life had been given to me. My eyes slowly fluttered open, the soft glow of a lamp evident as it branched out over the room. I sat up and looked around, unsure of where I was and even less sure of what would become of this. I was in a grand four poster bed, the curtains around it made of thick, red velvet. I saw intricate patterns of days gone by etched forever in the darkened wood.

Sitting up, I felt the covers fall away as the cool air brushed against my arms. Still in my nightgown. He had not touched me, but only lain me on this bed so fine, covering me until nothing showed, completely protected from the harsh night's chill. Looking out the tall window, I saw that the light had begun to soften and that could only mean one thing: I had slept through the day and soon, he would rise. I rose from the bed and walked to a mirror, seeing how toussled with sleep I truly was. I ran my hands through my hair, but to no avail. I began to glance around, hoping for a brush or comb of some sort, but my eyes first met a small cream envelope, lying delicately on the edge of the dresser. I reached out, taking it in my hands and slowly opened it, the crisp paper scraping softly in the silence of the room. Inside was another sheet of parchment, just as yellow as the envelope and on it was a delicate script, old and scrawled along the page.

Darling, dearest Amara,

Should you awake before I rise for the night, (and I�m certain that you will), then I implore that you make yourself most comfortable here and feel free to go wherever you wish. There are servants to aid you in whatever you need and plenty to do your bidding- whatever you desire shall be yours. Just speak the word and your every whim will be met.
I know you wonder about your wardrobe and to that, I tell you that to your left is a small closet and in it, something that perhaps you will deem fit for you to wear.

Please take whatever you wish and accept my deepest apologies for being absent. I await the night with an interest most uncontainable. Until I rise...

Your host,

TheImmortalOne

I felt a small smile creep onto my lips as I folded his letter and slipped it back into it's paper casing. My annoyance did all but surface at the thought that still, I did not know the name of this elusive creature who so uncharacteristically had sought me out. Or so, it seemed uncharacteristic... He was so unwillingly to give anything of himself away, but so quick to ask anything and everything of others. And yet, he had promised that whatever I desired would be given to me. How impersonal it all seemed. I would receive all I wished for, as he promised, but it would not be from him. A multitude of thoughts and endless moments to ponder them, I rose.

The stone floors were cold to my feet, but the plush carpet of the rug set before the closet was a reprieve. Standing upon it, feeling the fibers brush against the soles of my feet, I reached out, opening the door carefully as though I feared something would emerge, flying out at me. Once the door was opened, I took a step closer, running my hands over the fabric inside. It seemed as though everything in the closet was ancient, but still, time had not aged it the smallest bit. The silk still shined with a brilliance and the wool was still as coarse as the day it was woven into the sweater that hung before me. The styles were older, the silk shirts graced with ruffles around the sleeves and delicate ruffles spilling over at the neck.

Further down, I found black riding pants, as if that was the only thing necessary for this castle. After much searching, I found a pair of plain black pants that would work nicely with the Victorian shirt currently draped over my arm. I chose a pair of elegant, black and highly polished boots from the bottom of the closet and shut the door silently. I dressed in the chosen clothes and after catching a glimpse in the mirror, quickly twisted my hair up, securing it with the golden comb I had found lying beside the brush. With that done, I walked from the room and done the hall, my footsteps echoing loudly off of the old, stone floor.

Along the walls, tapestries hung from various periods, so rich and detailed that my head began to spin, lost within the weaves of the fabric. I walked slowly, head turned to the side, taking in these masterpieces. Reaching out, I felt the coarse fabric flow beneath my fingertips, the beauty rippling in every stitch.

"Mesmerizing, aren't they?" a soft voice came from behind me.

A startled gasp somehow escaped my lips as I turned quickly to see only a shadow behind me.

"Forgive me, Amara...I did not mean to frighten you," he spoke quietly, as if he were afraid to wake the beings within the tapestries.

"It's...It's quite alright. You just caught me off guard is all; I wasn't expecting you to be so near."

At that, he smiled and stepped from the shadows. In one graceful motion, he bowed low and rose, offering me his arm fluidly. I took only a moment to drink him in, his posture perfect, back straight and shoulders back. His chin, tilted upward in total regality and his arm, taut and firm as he offered it to me. I felt my pulse quicken at the sight of him, hair spilling over his shoulders and sheer white shirt clinging to what I thought was a most desirable frame. He turned his head slightly, catching me out of the corner of his eye and smiled. As the heat rose within me and the blush crept up my cheeks, I slipped my arm through his. He pulled my arm close to his side and escorted me down the dimly lit hallway, plucking a torch from it's resting place on the wall to guide our way.

I took in my surroundings, finding something charming even about the crude stones of the walls. It was as if I saw everything with new eyes for a brief period, suspended in time. Too short to truly remember, but long enough to linger, showing the beauty in everything. A wonderful way to view the world, I thought and smiled at everything he showed me. At one point, his arm had come to rest around my waist and I made no protests. It was a comforting weight as he held me at his side, gesturing with his other hand. So, this was the tour, but there was another that I wished to have now: the tour through his mind. Thoughts running rapid, I took another glance at him and was surprised to see vibrant eyes staring back at me, the flames reflected, but from where it was not certain. Was it the flicker of the torch or did these flames come from within?

Soon, those flames died down and slowly, he turned his eyes from me.

"Come, Amara. I imagine you're ravenous." He spoke quietly, but his words were cold, nearly chilling. Still, in each syllable, there lay a seductive hiss.

I could only nod, managing to say, "No, but I am a little hungry."

My attempt at humor failed as he looked at me, giving a slight nod and walked on, arm still linked with mine. "I'm certain the chef has prepared something for you...I left the strictest orders for him to do so."

"You really didn't have to..."

"Oh? And what would you eat then?" When I failed to respond, he nodded, satisfied and walked on. "Yes, just as I thought. Now, the chef has prepared your meal. When you finish, you may find me in the study. It isn't hard to find, but should you get lost, just call for me. I will hear you."

I agreed, but then a smile came to my face. "And how can I call for you when I don't even know your name?"

"That was impressive, my dear....Almost enough to convince me to tell you, but I fear secrecy isn't as overrated as you think. When you need to know my name, you will." He offered me a small, apologetic smile and lead me into the grand dining room.

"Why does it matter, your name?" I asked, nearly demanding an answer, my face sincere as my eyes bored into him.

"It is my name, my legacy, my soul. Would you give your soul to someone so easily if it was all you had?"

My silence seemed a fitting answer as he helped me sit and pushed the chair up for me. In seconds, he was gone from sight and sound, leaving me alone in the softly lit room. The table stretched out forever before me, the other end barely a speck in front of my eyes. In the corner, an enormous fireplace provided the only source of warmth and of light and all around, the curtains were bombarded with heavy drapes, blocking out all rays of the sun and the moon. No twinkle of stars broke through. Only the flicker of flames was seen, casting an eerie glow on the room, making shadows dance and her sense run wild. A slight squeak of floorboards as a maid emerged nearly sent me bolting out the door. A soft voice on the other side of me set my heart to pounding.

"Your meal, madam," the woman said, her English heavily accented with the dialect of the land�s native tongue.

In the distance, wolves howled their greetings to the night, sending chills up my spine. My skin prickled, hairs rising on my arms at the sound. Oh, this was too much, too typical, but for the worst, it was too real.

But wasn't it what I wanted? Yes, to see the Undead, to walk with them even if only for a night. To see the moon in it's heavenly form and watch as the light reflected off preternatural skin. To witness the movements, graceful and quick, and take in the glint of light across glaringly white teeth, sharpened to a razor's edge and fit for slicing flesh. Yes, that was what I wanted, even now as the feeling of something horribly amiss settled it's weight into my stomach.

I wanted it.

PART 7

The only sound in the room was that of my fork, scraping across the china plate before me. I pushed the food around on it, my mind in a million directions.

"And to think I trusted you'd enjoy dinner," he said as he walked up, easing himself boneless into the chair beside me. For some reason, his emergence did not startle me. Perhaps I was already to frightened for words or even reactions.

I turned and looked at him, my breath catching in my throat. His face was warmed from the life he had just taken and every part of him took on a new magic. "Sir..." I whispered, then shook my head, remembering just where I was. "The meal is wonderful, but I seem to have lost my appetite," I said politely, my eyes still moving over him.

He started to smile, but then it was gone, so briefly there that I had nearly convinced myself I had imagined it all. "You seem more at ease than when I left you, mademoiselle," he said, looking over me, causing me to shiver involuntarily once again under his stare.

"Perhaps it was the wine," I said, motioning toward the nearly empty glass sitting by my plate. "It does have a very calming effect...."

"Yes, the wine...Of course," he said, his words trailing off as if he meant to say more.

"Or perhaps it is that I am slowly growing used to my Vampire host and his home in such a short time," I said softly and saw his eyes sparkle.

"Perhaps...."

I turned to face him, crossing my legs with a smile. I rests my hands on my knees and looked at him. His eyes traveled over me again, lingering at my neck and chest that no longer heaved. When he finally met my eyes, he dropped his gaze immediately.

"Forgive me," he mumbled.

Reaching out, I lifted his chin with my fingers, smiling at the surprised look on his face as I shook my head. "No...Forgiveness would mean you had done wrong...."

"I've done nothing wrong?" he asked in a whisper, taking my hand and slowly kissing the palm as his eyes searched mind.

I shook my head, watching him as I brought my other hand up, running it through his thick, fair hair, watching as it wrapped around my fingers. His lips moved lower, pressing against my wrist and I felt the faintest brush of his fangs against my skin. I shuddered, letting out a shaking breath as I watched his mouth move expertly over my skin, his tongue caressing where his lips had failed to touch. Languidly, he slid from his chair and knelt in front of me on the floor. Our difference in height as he normally towered over me seemed meant for this moment as his soft, cool lips found the heated skin of my neck. He followed the curve of my neck, kissing my jaw softly, nipping it gently with his teeth before moving back to my neck, as if one taste was not enough. Each time his teeth grazed my neck, I shivered, the feelings growing more intense. As he repeated his sweet torture on my skin, a soft moan escaped from my lips, surprising me, but seeming to delight him as he opened his mouth wider over my skin, sucking tenderly, as if he were drinking from me. His arms came around my waist, pulling my body against his as my hands found way into his hair once again. With each passing moment, I gripped his hair, my head falling against his as my eyes slipped shut in ecstasy.

"Coran..." he whispered against my skin, his voice bringing my from the state of contentment his lips had rocketed me in to.

"What?"

"My name....it's Coran...." he whispered again, running his hands slowly up my back, pressing me further against him and I shuddered in response.

"Crescent moon," I mumbled, turning my head and pressing my face into his hair. "An Irish vampire..."

I felt his lips curve into a smile against me as he pierced my skin, fangs singing deeply into my neck, so far that I swore he had grazed my very soul. I cried out, gripping his hair and pulling on it as he began to drink from me, drawing my life from me as he held me in his firm embrace.

I remember nothing before that night when his eloquent prose graced my screen, calling to me, and I remember everything after it; every year that passed and every century that dawned. And so the vampire got his bride and I...well, I got my story. If you'll excuse me, Coran calls for me and I can never find it in my heart to deny him.

Cursed Truth, Shining Silk