Kissed By Death

Kissed By Death

Kissed By Death

By Nomar Knight

            Last night I had to take my daughter to the emergency room because she had banged her foot against the bedpost.  All the while listening to her bicker about the pain, something nudged at my insides.  I recalled driving to the hospital and glancing at the quick darkening sky and thinking, there’s something not right.  I shook off my suspicions and accompanied my daughter inside.  We remained together until she went with the x-ray technician.  I decided to read an e-book from my phone when I heard someone clearing their throat. 

            “Hello Nomar.”

            The tiny lobby had air conditioning, but I swore I was stuck inside a freezer.  And as the cold intensified, I didn’t dare move. 

            “Darling, why don’t you greet me with a kiss instead of an open mouth?”

            A kiss?  Surely Lorraina was off her rocker. 

            “Why must you insult me?”  No sooner than she spoke, she appeared within inches of my body and grinned, inciting the acid in my stomach to boil more than usual. 

            “What are you doing here?”  At last, I regained control of my bearings.  The Countess Lorraina Sandoval was the most ruthless of her kind. 

            “You know why I’m here, don’t you?” 

            She extended one of her lethal fingernails and gently brushed my chin. 

            “I promise I’ll get to your novel when I’m finished with Oscuro’s.”

            Again she moved faster than my eyes could register.  The amazing redhead sat on my lap, put an arm around the back of my neck, and purred like a kitten. 

            “I want to thank you for showing your readers my relationship with the angel of suicide, but don’t you think you’ve wasted too much time on other projects?”

            “I told you the last time, when I complete DARKNESS ROAMS, I’ll get cracking on your story.”

            “Why do you look away from me when you speak, darling?”  She squeezed my cheeks.  “Are you lying to me?”

            “Of course not!”  I wanted to get up and run off, but my daughter was still getting her foot x-rayed.  “Countess—”

            “You may call me Lorraina.”

            “Lorraina, it’s just that I feel that there are way too many vampire stories out there.  Heck, even I’m sick of them, and I enjoy a well told Gothic tale.”

            Her green eyes darkened and her skin felt like ice.  I realized she hadn’t fed yet. 

            “But I promise you, Lorraina, that to get in the mood, I’ll read my friend Carole Gill’s novel, THE HOUSE ON BLACKSTONE MOOR, and then I’ll sit and write your story.”

            In the blink of an eye we were no longer sitting.  Instead, the Countess Lorraina Sandoval, ancient vampire, held me by my throat, my aching head pressed against the wall.  Breathing became a challenge.  I couldn’t feel the floor under me.    

            “My little darling horror writer, the story of my life is important to the world and as you write it with me, you’ll soon find out why it’s important for your readers to understand what’s coming in their future.”

            I clenched my butt cheeks, determined not to have an “accident” in a public place.

            “Your heart beats so fast.  Calm down.  I don’t want you to get a heart attack.  Of course,” she tilted her head as though she studied a roach, “I can turn you into one of us.”

            “No, that won’t be necessary.” I sounded as if I had severe laryngitis, “I’ll get it done.  I promise.”

            She shook her head, “Tsk, tsk.  You’ve gained weight.  Take care of yourself or I’ll hide you somewhere until you look practically skeletal.” 

She laughed.  I almost pissed in my pants.  Then she stuck out her tongue so I sealed my mouth shut.  She licked my left cheek.  I swore she had wiped an ice cube on my face.  Even though I tried to keep my lips tight, she plunged her tongue inside my mouth.  I thought I was moments away from permanent brain freeze.  When she stopped I could still feel her lips upon mine.   

“I’m going to stop by once a month to encourage you to write about vampires, especially me.  You can post what I say in your blog.  What’s it called again? Oh yes, Knight Chills.”

Before I could respond, I found myself doing a stutter step, trying not to fall on my ass on the floor.  My daughter hobbled out of the x-ray room.  She eyed me with raised eyebrows. 

“What’s wrong dad?”

“Nothing, just thinking about tonight’s blog post.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that she had just missed one of my most powerful characters ever.  Considering Lorraina hadn’t fed yet, I’m betting that was a good thing.

And so I gave her my word, but know this my Knight Chills readers, I can’t control when she comes to visit me.  And worse, I have no idea what horrifying tales she’ll tell.  Also, be aware that every time she sees me I can’t help but think my human existence is numbered to but a few minutes. 

Until next time or as the vampire Lorraina Sandoval promised, next month. 

See you on the dark side.

Nomar Knight  

Note: You can read a sample of Carole Gill's book here. 

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2011. All rights reserved.