It’s Writers Island time again.
I missed it last week.
The prompt this week is RISING.
Here is my little bedtime tale entitled Vampyr……
The blood makes you forget, the metallic lure of it quells the longing for the other life.
In the shadows you vanish. Nothing moves you like it did before – only the taste of someone else’s life surging into your veins.
We hide. All of us together. Crowded as insects under a rock, waiting for the unsuspecting ones.
They come. Always. After midnight is best. They stroll, glossy with nicotine and sex, giving us a little aftertaste of the old days.
Sometimes there is one, lying mute and drained, who reminds you of someone you used to know, someone that maybe you cared for, when caring for people was what you did, and there is a tug, almost insignificant, but nonetheless present, at what remains of your heart. And for the brief moment before the intoxicating sweetness of the blood encompasses you, you feel the slightest twinge of remorse for taking a life that was not yours to take.
All night we play like gods. We do not quail at the path of destiny that has led us here; we embrace it. The infinite weight of it; the endless suspension of it.
Oftentimes, I am driven mad by a desire, a hunger to see the sunlight. Even when we are no longer human we want what we cannot have. It is a longing greater than sorrow.
We wait for the rising sun to spread her touch over the earth like fingers splayed across sand. I time it so that the thinnest shaft, the sum of all the light I will ever see again is reflected in the eyes of my sister. Her black, black eyes for a moment stream with sunlight but it is enough to send her into a frenzy of fear and despair as she remembers who she once was. And what she has lost.
As my brothers and sisters plunge deep below the ground I wait. A glimpse is all I can afford. This life that is not really a life is all that I have. Would I give it up to see the sun rising just once, to breathe in the promise of a new day? This is a yearning, not a question and thus, I cannot answer. I dare not.
© ST Sergent
March 9 2008