I did not make this story up, I'd just like to share a story that I enjoyed reading.
Based on the novels by L.J.Smith and the TV series, The Vampire
Diaries.
Chapter One.
It was October. The trees of the cemetery had turned a decayed brown, and a cold breeze had whistled in, replacing the stifling heat of the Virginia summer. Not that I much felt it. As a vampire, my body registered only the temperature of my next victim, warmed by the anticipation of her hot blood coiling through my veins. My next victim was only a few feet away, a chestnut haired girl who was currently climbing over the French of the Hartnett estate, which ran adjacent to the cemetery. 'Clementine Haverford, whatever are you doing out of bed so late?' My playful demeanour was at odds with the hot, heavy thirst coursing through me. Clementine was not supposed to be here, but Matt Hartnett had always been sweet on her. And even though Clementine was engaged to Randall Haverford, her Charleston-based cousin, it was clear the feeling was mutual. She was already playing a dangerous game. Little did she know it was about to turn deadly. Clementine squinted into the darkness. I could tell from her heavy-lidded expression and wine-stained teeth that she'd had a long night. 'Stefan Salvatore?' She gasped. 'But you're dead.'
I took a step closer to her 'am I now?'
'Yes I attended your funeral.' She cocked her head to the side. She didn't seem too concerned, though. She was practically sleepwalking, heady from sips of wine and stolen kisses. 'Are you a dream?'
'No, not a dream.' I said huskily.
I grasped her by the shoulder and pulled her close to me. She fell against my chest, and the loud drum of her heartbeat filled my ears. She smelled of jasmine, just as she had last summer when my hand had grazed the bodice of her dress while we played one of Damon's kissing games under the Wickery Bridge.
I ran one finger along her cheek. Clementine had been my first crush, and I'd often wondered what it would feel like to hold her like this. I put my lips to her ear. 'Im more like a nightmare.'
Before she could make a sound, I sank my teeth straight into her jugular vein, sighing when the first stream it my mouth. Unlike what her name might suggest, Clementine's blood wasn't nearly as sweet as I'd imagined. Instead it tasted smokey and bitter, like coffee burned over a hot stove. Still, I drank deeply, gulping her down until she stopped groaning and her pulse slowed to a whisper. She went limp in my arms, and the fire that burned in my veins and belly was quenched.
All week I'd been hunting at my leisure, having discovered that my body required two feedings a day. Mostly I just listened to the vital fluid coursing through the bodies of the residents of Mystic Falls, fascinated by how easily I could take it from them. When I had attacked, I'd done so carefully, feeding on guests at the boarding house or taking one of the soldiers up by Leestown. Clementine would be my first victim who'd once been a friend. The first victim the first people of Mystic Falls would miss.
Disengaging my teeth from her neck, I licked my lips, allowing my tongue to savour the spot of wet blood at the corner of my mouth.
Then I dragged her out to the cemetery and back to the quarry where my brother, Damon, and I had been staying since we'd been turned. The sun was just creeping over the horizon, and Damon was sitting listlessly at the edge of the water, glancing into its depths as if they held the secrets to the universe. He'd been like that every day since we'd woken up as vampires seven days earlier, mourning the loss of Katherine, the vampire who'd made us into what we are now. Though she had turned me into a powerful creature, I celebrated her death, unlike my brother. She had played me for a fool, and the memory of her reminded me of how vulnerable I'd once been. As I watched Damon, Clementine moaned in my arms, one eye fluttering open. Were it not for the blood seeping onto the blue lace neckline of her wrinkled, blue tulle dress, it would seem as if she was merely in slumber.
'Shhh.' I murmured, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. A voice somewhere in my mind told me that I should feel regret over taking her life, but I felt nothing at all. Instead, I readjusted her in my arms, tossing her over my shoulder, as if she were simply a sack of oats, and walked to the edge of the water.
'Brother.' I unceremoniously dumped Clementine's nearly lifeless body at his feet.
Damon shook his head and said 'No.' His lips had a chalky white texture. Blood vessels twisted darkly on his face, they looked like cracks in marble. In the weak morning light, he looked like one of the broken statues in the cemetery. 'You must drink!' I said roughly, pushing him down, surprised at my own strength. His nostrils flared. But just as it was to mine, the smell of her blood was intoxicating to his weary body, and soon his lips met her skin in spite of his protestation. He began to drink, slowly at first then lapped up the liquid as though he were a horse desperate for water. 'Why do you keep making me do this?' He asked plaintively wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and wincing.
'You need to regain your strength.' I prodded Clementine with the tip of my dirt-caked boot. She groaned softly, somehow still alive. For now, at least. But her life was in my hands. The realisation trilled through me, as though my entire being were on fire. This - the hunt, the conquests, the reward of the pleasurable sleepiness that always followed a feeding made eternity stand before us as an endless adventure. Why couldn't Damon understand? 'This isn't strength. It's weakness.' Damon hissed, rising to his feet. 'Its hell on earth, and nothing could be worse.'
'Nothing? Would you rather be dead, like father?' I shook my head incredulously. 'You have a second chance.'
'I never asked for it.' Damon said sharply. 'I never asked for any of this. All I wanted was Katherine. She's gone, so kill me now and be done with it.' Damon handed me a jagged oak branch. 'Here.' He said, standing with his arms open wide, his chest exposed. Just one stroke to his heart and he'd have his wish. Memories flashed through my mind of Katherine, her soft, dark curls, her fangs in the bright moonlight, her head arched back before she bit into my neck, her ever-present lapis lazuli pendant that sat in the hollow of her neck. I now understand why she'd killed my fiancé, Rosalyn, why shed compelled me and Damon, why she used her beauty and innocent visage to make people want to trust and protect her. It was her nature. And now it's ours. But instead of accepting it as a gift, as I had, Damon seemed to think it was a curse.
I cracked the branch over my knee and threw that shards into the river. 'No.' I said. Though I'd never admit it aloud, the thought of living forever without a friend in the world frightened me. I wanted Damon and I to learn to be vampires together. 'No?' Damon repeated, his eyes snapping open. 'You're man enough to murder an old flame, but not your brother?' He shoved me to the ground. He loomed above me, his own fangs bared, then spat on my neck. 'Don't embarrass yourself.' I said, scrambling to my feet. He was strong, but I was far stronger, thanks to my regular feeding. 'And don't fool yourself into thinking Katherine loved you.' I growled. 'She loved her power, and she loved what she could make us do for her. But she never loved us.' Damon's eyes blazed. He rushed towards me with the speed of a galloping horse. His shoulder, hard as stone, ploughed into me, throwing me back into a tree. The trunk split with a loud crack. 'She loved me.'
'Then why did she turn me, too?' I challenged, rolling to my feet as I rebuffed his next blow. The words had their desired effect. Damon's shoulders sagged, and he staggered backwards. 'Fine, I'll just do it myself." He murmured, grabbing another stick and running the sharp end along his chest. I slapped the stake out of his hand and twisted his arms behind his back. 'You are my brother, my flesh and blood. So long as I stay alive, so shall you. Now, come.' I pushed him towards the woods. 'Come where?' Damon asked listlessly, allowing me to drag him along. 'To the cemetery' I answered 'we have a funeral to attend.' Damon's eyes registered a dull spark of interest. 'Whose?'
'Fathers, don't you want to say goodbye to the man who killed us?'
To be continued ........
