The Story of the Vampire, L (Completed | Featured )
  • Reads 114,082
  • Votes 6,102
  • Parts 129
  • Time 22h 48m
  • Reads 114,082
  • Votes 6,102
  • Parts 129
  • Time 22h 48m
Complete, First published Jan 20, 2015
He looked over at me in the dimness, fingers loose in my grip. "You are hurting me," he said, without interest. He had caked powder on his already pale skin, all of one shade except for points made by a hot pencil. Though it was no longer the mode at court, the new fashion more ostentatious and overdrawn, he still favored it, and as I did. My fingers crept up his wrist. I felt rough punctures, half healed and raw, a scattering of them, and I pulled. Laurent could not resist, weakened by the drawing of his blood.
  
  My vocal cords had been severed by the younger one's teeth, and so I could not speak, but I pushed up his sleeve, the luxury of his white linen, and found his arm colored like a polluted river. I touched the bites with my fingertips, ten, fifteen, twenty.
  
  "I have felt your judgment already," L whispered, trying to pull his arm back, "I have felt it these now two hundred years. Judgment judgment. Cry not. Is it pity? You are a cold thing, without heart, to judge me for what I do. Prideful toad."
  
  His arm muscles worked against my grip beneath his blood bruised skin.
  
  "Unhand me. Wretched, lye-broken flesh." After a time, he made a sound like a trapped fox, a dying child's keen, and gave up, lying back on the bed such that his hair fell across my face.
  
  My other hand found his neck and stroked him.
  
  "You will not know what it feels like, good heart," he said to me, softly, doing me one of his gentle nips of an insult, "for love to change you in an instant." He relaxed under my stroking, and his tone softened. "I only meant to help him die."
  **
  After his untimely death, the story of the vampire "L" comes together. Devotees tell the story from many points of view across history, painting a portrait of a man crushed by great loves, desperation, and the indifferent march of time.
  
featured 3/9/16
complete 8/31/16
Editing, as of 5/11/2018. Log: 0/129 chapters edited. 0 added.
Cover by @ferret-bird
All Rights Reserved
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'What are you doing here?' he said angrily forcefully yanking my arm. 'I told you to stay hidden.' I pulled my arm free. 'I know but I wanted to help!' I told him with creased brows wondering why we were wasting time. 'By getting yourself killed? Is that your idea of helping?' his deep eyes shot daggers at me. 'I don't care! This is my fight too?' I argued shooting back the daggers. 'You don't...' he mumbled the rest of the statement running his hand through his hair in obvious frustration. 'This is a war, not one of your childish games, Santana.' Injured by his words, I shot back. 'Then i would rather die than li...' I stopped when the atmosphere immediately changed...drastically. His eyes narrowed into mere slits as his face grew dark and he seemed to loom darkly and threateningly over me. I shivered as I stepped back in both awe and fear. He suddenly scooped down and gripped my shoulders pulling closer to him while lifting me off the ground until i was almost the same height as him. 'I will rip everyone's throat with my bare hands before I let anyone touch you.' he hissed his eyes a deep shade of grey that they were almost black. What the hell? * * * All Santana wanted was to live an quiet life. After what happened to her Grandmother everyone's eyes were on her family and all she had to do was to try and not be a psycho... how hard could it be? Oh...she had no idea. From her recurring dream to her brother's terrifyingly accurate intuition to her own ability see beyond the physical, it was becoming increasingly obvious that something was amiss... ***
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'What are you doing here?' he said angrily forcefully yanking my arm. 'I told you to stay hidden.' I pulled my arm free. 'I know but I wanted to help!' I told him with creased brows wondering why we were wasting time. 'By getting yourself killed? Is that your idea of helping?' his deep eyes shot daggers at me. 'I don't care! This is my fight too?' I argued shooting back the daggers. 'You don't...' he mumbled the rest of the statement running his hand through his hair in obvious frustration. 'This is a war, not one of your childish games, Santana.' Injured by his words, I shot back. 'Then i would rather die than li...' I stopped when the atmosphere immediately changed...drastically. His eyes narrowed into mere slits as his face grew dark and he seemed to loom darkly and threateningly over me. I shivered as I stepped back in both awe and fear. He suddenly scooped down and gripped my shoulders pulling closer to him while lifting me off the ground until i was almost the same height as him. 'I will rip everyone's throat with my bare hands before I let anyone touch you.' he hissed his eyes a deep shade of grey that they were almost black. What the hell? * * * All Santana wanted was to live an quiet life. After what happened to her Grandmother everyone's eyes were on her family and all she had to do was to try and not be a psycho... how hard could it be? Oh...she had no idea. From her recurring dream to her brother's terrifyingly accurate intuition to her own ability see beyond the physical, it was becoming increasingly obvious that something was amiss... ***