Empire of Vampires ✔️

Chapter Twenty-Three

1814

A murder of crows flew over the graveyard that night, their black feathers spreading and ruffling as they landed on a fresh tombstone. They screeched and cawed in an eerily melodic tune as the soil on the grave shifted in unrest.

Danyel still waited in the graveyard, hidden in the shadows since the funeral had ended. He felt sick to his stomach at the thought of what he'd done on a mindless impulse. He had attempted to curse her to an existence such as his. He watched her grave now, unknowing if her soul could rest in peace.

A flash of soundless lightning lit up the night sky into a brilliant red. The ground shook and rumbled, a filthy hand clawing its way out of the dirt. The ground parted over the strong force that divided it, the hard soil crumbling into dust as a ghostly figure crawled out of it.

Lady Marienne stood beside her grave, risen from the dead.

Her long blond hair hung limply around her pale face, caked in mud and grime. Her features were the same and yet so different, holding incredible strength like how she had never felt before. Her plain white funeral dress whipped against her body in the gust; ironically similar to the wedding dress she was meant to have worn that day.

She stood in a daze, wondering if she was dead or alive. She felt like something in between; a tangible memory or a living ghost. She looked upon the grave she had climbed out of and saw her own tombstone; her name freshly carved in.

Her first thought was revenge.

She remembered everything now, what he had done to her. A chill ran up her spine and her fists clenched by her sides. Her chest tightened and recoiled with despicable hate. Her vision was fogged in a red cloud that matched the crimson skies of murder. She couldn't breathe and didn't need to; the only thing she needed now was blood.

Danyel waited till she strode away, her powerful footsteps carrying her quickly into the distance. He stepped out of the shadows and started senselessly filling the dirt back into her grave. He'd broken his vow in a moment of weakness, seeing the strength in her puny human body and dooming her to be the monster she now was.

He left that very night, disappearing into a purposeless exile he created for himself. He wanted nothing more to do with the blood-thirsty abomination he had created.

Lady Marienne found herself standing outside the house of Lord Charles Kenworthy; her entire body shook violently in anger. She didn't even know how she got there. All she could hear was the pounding of the blood that rushed in her ears. All she could see was red.

She remembered with impeccable detail the horror he had put her through. Abhorrence grew like a burn on her heart as she recalled how she had lay there dying. Her mind was dizzily unfocused as she imagined all the creatively gruesome ways she would like to take his life; all the suffering he deserved.

Marienne scaled the brick walls under the window of her murderous ex-fiancé. Her fingers scraped and raked deep scratches in the stone. She watched venomously through the glass as he chugged his whisky straight from the bottle, singly gaily to himself,

A lesson learned, ye ladies fair,
From Marie's wretched fate;
Lest you, like her, should in despair
Repent alas! Back too late.

The glass shattered into bloody crystals on the floor as she thrust her body through it. Charles turned around; his eyes heavy with drink as he laughed at the apparition of the ghostly lady in her funeral dress, that he believed to be his own drunken hallucination.

He opened his mouth to mock her but the words died in his throat as she wrapped her absolutely tangible fingers around his sweaty throat. He choked in surprise at the strong grip around his neck, seemingly just as alive as he was. He went pale in his shock, eyes widening in repentance and horror as he came to realization.

The woman standing in front of him was the same woman he'd murdered.

She pushed him hard onto the ground, knocking his head into the heavy chest of drawers as he fell. His skull cracked open just a fracture and his dark, crimson blood seeped out, filling the air with a heady scent as her mouth went cotton-dry in thirst. She could easily snap his neck and feast on his blood, ending his suffering right now.

But instead, she mauled him first, dragging her hard nails against his face, breaking the skin like how he'd once broken hers. She lapped at the blood on his wounds, her pointy incisors creating fresh ones for her to gorge on.

He screamed and screamed but it couldn't satisfy her. She wanted to watch his torment and torture; wanted him to share in her own pain. He writhed in anguish and agony, rolling around the marble floors and clawing at anything that might save him. He grabbed at the shattered glass and tried to use it; it gashed deep wounds in his own hands and not even a scratch on hers. He tried to push her down and off him, but his pitiful strength was now nothing compared to this superior being.

Finally, her instincts gave in and she sank her fangs deep into his jugular. He screamed until the very end. She treasured that moment when she watched him gasping for his last breath. A single tear dripped down his bloody face as his soul was sent straight to hell.

He had killed her.
And she had killed him, just the same.

~~~
Can anyone guess which song lyrics the last sentence is from? Hint: the picture at the beginning of this chapter is the artist!
Her songs have been a HUGE inspiration, and I imagine she's what Marie looked like back in the regency era...
I guess I mentioned that earlier  ᵔ ◞ ᵔ

Anyway, vote if you guessed the song! I'll be linking it in the next flashback anyway heheh :D