Lysander Blane was being pursued by a vampire. He had been ever since his high school years. The vampire was a dark, twisted, shadowy beast. It sneaked up on Lysander when he wasn’t looking. It whispered sinister things in his ear. The vampire pestered Lysander until he had no choice but to flee. Every day the vampire haunted Lysander’s steps, making it impossible for him to accomplish anything.
One day, Lysander decided to climb a mountain. The mountain was tall, steep and rigorous. It was rich in fragile precipices and jagged rocks. Despite the mountain’s trials, Lysander was fairly confident that he could overcome it. He had been wanting to do this for a terribly long time. Just as he took his first step up the mountain, the vampire slinked slyly up behind him.
“Why even bother?” it hissed, “You’ve never been much of a climber. You will almost certainly fall. And then all that will remain of Lysander Blane will be an empty husk of tattered flesh, spilled blood and broken bones left behind for the worms to devour.” Lysander sighed. The vampire was right. Failure would be the most likely outcome. Crestfallen. Lysander returned home, the vampire following close behind.
The following day, Lysander had made up his mind. To Hell with the vampire and his grisly prophecies, he was going to climb the mountain. He knew he could do it. Once again, just as he took his first step, the vampire returned.
“You wouldn’t even make it halfway. You know this. Everyone does. You’re just not very good at much. I mean, you’ve never really succeeded at anything, why would you succeed at this?” It whispered sickly.
Suddenly, Lysander had had enough. Seizing the vampire, he shoved it into the sunlight. “I have failed before, and I will almost certainly fail again. But I WILL succeed in this!” he vowed, his words almost drowned out by the creature’s ethereal screams. Lysander watched as the vampire’s flesh sizzled and melted. Its eyes popped, the juices instantly evaporating. The monster’s fangs and teeth, having been so long used to tear away at Lysander’s confidence, crumbled into dust. Finally, all that remained was a charred, blackened skeleton, which had already begun to disintegrate. Lysander turned, and started up the mountain. He climbed easily and continuously, never looking back. Finally, he reached the summit. Lysander looked down to where he had left the vampire’s remains, but there was nothing there. After such a long time, Lysander Blane was finally free from his tormentor. He stood atop the mountain he had climbed, victorious.
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