Persistence is something I admire but when the one demonstrating a relentless campaign is a man-eating vampire, my admiration for that character trait takes a back seat to impending survival. Her name is Countess Lorraina Sandoval. She was made in the 1600’s in Salem Massachusetts during the Salem Witch Trials. Both she and her twin sister were spared from a hanging from a dark force worse than death itself.
Anyway, the beautiful, tall redhead with emerald green eyes revisited me just before dawn. The last time I set eyes on her, fear ruled our encounter. No, she wasn’t afraid of me, I was terrified of her or more specifically, her ability to turn me into what she is. Lorraina possessed special gifts as a human, those abilities got stronger in her current state. Here’s an excerpt of our encounter:
Me: I suppose you want me to write your story.
Lorraina: There is so much to tell, Darling. Oh my, you sound delicious.
Me: Sound? (Completely baffled.)
Lorraina: Your heart beats strong. I bet your blood is tasty.
Me: I know what you’re doing. You won’t intimidate me into dropping my current projects in favor of yours.
Her eyes beamed. Unlike us humans, her face never changed colors. She remained pale, almost spectral.
Lorraina: You told me to come back when I thought you could stomach my accounts. Here I am.
Me: It’s almost dawn. Surely you have many pages to fill. (Don’t look at her eyes.)
Lorraina: I suppose I could order you to write my accounts but then you wouldn’t add your original style. Instead of an exciting story, you’d have some sort of news story. Those are boring. (She licked her lips.)
She wore a tight black tube blouse, a black leather jacket with silver spikes. If anyone were to awaken, they would swear I was speaking to a seventeen year-old biker bimbo. At least until they got a good look at her face.
Lorraina: Do you like what you see?
I gazed up back at her face, trying hard not to meet her eyes. She laughed. Chills ran through me.
Lorraina: If your heartbeat keeps increasing, I’m going to have to feast on you. You look scrumptious when you’re blushing.
I searched my surroundings, I knew escape was impossible.
Lorraina: We’ve talked a few minutes and you haven’t gone to the bathroom. You are more tolerant of my presence, Darling.
Me: How’s your sister? When will I meet her?
Her green eyes appeared to grow darker.
Lorraina: It’s my story you’ll write, not hers. Do you know why I let you live?
I remained in a numbing silence.
Lorraina: My sister made me promise not to kill you. She said you will be of value to us. Although, apart from your strong heart, I’m not sure that she’s right.
Me: Countess, I promise, I will get to your story soon. Please, give me a few more months.
Lorraina: Darling, I have all the time in the world but you… (Her hypnotic voice trailed off.) My sister would feel better if you crossed over of your own free will, like we did; but I want to snack on you right now.
I folded my arms, trying to stop my body’s open display of fear. I knew Lorraina thrived on the emotion.
Lorraina: I feel like biting you anyway. That way I’ll know when you’re ready for me.
I automatically unfolded my arms and reached for my neck. Again she laughed.
Then something unexpected happened. I blacked out. When I awoke, she was gone. I couldn’t find any evidence of fang marks, yet somehow I felt different. I wondered if other writers had characters that were so overwhelming that reality merged with their dark world. Since our second encounter, I’m not always sure about things. My energy drains during daylight. Oh, and the dreams put me back into the 1600’s. Perhaps she’s guiding my thoughts. What did she do to me? Will I ever be the same again?