Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Memoir by Carole Gill
He saw the journal, why he had ever begun opening drawers, he had no idea it was impolite to the say the least but he had been too curious to resist.
He smiled as he ran his hand along the rich blood-red leather cover. There was no name on it, just the word in gold leaf ‘Memoir.’
Now, making certain that his chamber door was secure, he at last sat down finding himself excited in a sexual way for he hoped he would discover something which had not been intended for anyone to read but the diarist.
There was exhilaration for him sitting there, holding an object that might hold titillating secrets.
And then he began to read—
I come from another place, another time. From East of here were magic is the norm and superstition the custom.
My father was a merchant, my mother long dead by the time he arranged a marriage for me.
But when I saw who my own father had chosen for me, I wept. You see he was old enough to be my father and then some and coarse in his ways although he was nobility. Yet this was the man I was betrothed to!
“He is acquainted with the Emperor! He calls him friend! How dare you refuse?”
Needless to say, the wedding took place at the appointed time, held in our city’s greatest Cathedral.
At last it was over and the kiss I did dread was given me. “Not too long now, my petal.”
His coach bore us to his home—my new home, a veritable castle, sprawling and richly furnished.
The servants greeted me quietly, we then had some refreshments, he continually leering at me and saying rude things.
I was not surprised to find he had no regard for my virginity nor did he have any respect for my person.
He forced himself most cruelly on me. I must have passed out for when I woke he was dressing as I pretended to sleep, but he knew:
“I know you are awake, just remember. What I have done is nothing compared to what I shall do, you are my wife. And as wives are chattel and nothing more, you are just another object that I own!”
I shuddered at the slam of the door and just lay there, feeling sad and tainted and broken.
I wept for myself and for the hopelessness of my present situation fearing I would have to die by my own hand as I could not bear to remain with this monster.
And so I fled. But he sent soldiers to find me, for such was his importance.
“You she devil! Do you think I will permit you to disgrace me or my fine name?”
I begged for mercy, but there was none and I was taken to be slaughtered. For slaughter it was.
While his men held me, he did run me through with a sword. “Die you scheming bitch!”
And so I died, passing from life into death in an agonizing pain-filled moment—but I did not sleep long for I was awakened by a voice commanding me to open my eyes:
“Awake thee and walk once more upon the earth, for one so young shall not be left to rot!”
It was then that I beheld his face, this handsome being. The face of one I would always love—the face I would adore forever-!
The young man gasped and stopped reading for he had heard a noise and turned.
There standing behind him was the most exquisite creature he had ever seen.
“You have been reading my journal,” she said. But she didn’t say it in anger and he smiled, for she was smiling too. “I hope you don’t mind me coming here. I wanted to see you before my sisters, for they are truly like sisters.”
The young man smiled sheepishly but his smile soon faded when he beheld the beauty’s own smile growing ever wider.
She shook her head. “Do not fear handsome young man, as my teeth sink into your soft flesh for I will show you worlds you cannot imagine—dreams you dare not dream, pleasure beyond any pleasure you have ever known or thought of.”
He gave himself up and just as her teeth began to sink in, the door did open and Dracula’s two other brides came in, floating like mist.
How they smiled and giggled—for they were eager to taste his blood.
And as they all converged upon Jonathan Harker they suddenly stopped when they felt their Master’s eyes upon them. He, Dracula was standing in the doorway!
“Forgive us, please. Do not be angry.” They begged.
Harker watched as Dracula admonished them. Yet even as he did, Harker saw a fearful light in the Count’s eyes, a light that bespoke sensual love and pleasure beyond comprehension.
And Harker knew so much in that instant for he had glimpsed another world—the world of endless night where sin and corruption live but death does not.
“Come,” Dracula said. “Come and share that which can be your fate.”
But Harker did hesitate whereupon the brides turned toward him, their eyes blazing and their mouths ready to taste that which flowed through his veins—that which they coveted.
At last Harker smiled and lay back to await their touch and their teeth and the sweet pain that would soon disappear…
© Copyright 2010 Carole Gill. All rights reserved.
Carole Gill has granted Knight Chills, non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Carole Gill is a talented author who makes the world of vampires breathe with a chilling atmosphere. You can get more of Carole's powerful style in her blog, Demon Vampire Horror at: