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The Tale Of The Vampire Bride

Page 16

“You are dead. Dead to who you were. You will sleep here in this coffin. It is our way.”

“No, not mine. It is not my way.” I turned away, ready to flee.

Vlad’s cold fingers wrapped around my arm and he held me firmly against him. “My dearest Glynis, you will obey me.”

“I will not,” I said through gritted teeth. “I am not dead. I will not sleep in that coffin.”

“Yes, you will.” Vlad flung me down into it. “You are a vampire. You are one of the undead.”

“No!” I tried to scramble out of the coffin, but Vlad struck me so hard with the back of his hand it felt as though my head would rupture.

“You are no longer mortal. You are a vampire. You will act as such.” His fangs glistened as he spat the words out at me. Angrily, he lifted up the coffin lid and slid it onto the coffin.

“No, please, no!”

The last thing I saw before the lid slid shut over me was his fiendishly smiling face, then I was plunged into darkness. As I screamed in terror and anger, I heard him walk away chuckling. I knew where he was going, and I screamed at the horror of it all. I had seen the tomb where he lay during the day and the one word written over it:

DRACULA

Chapter 8

The Journal of Lady Glynis Wright

How miserable it is to write of my first nights here. I can scarcely believe the words I am writing and yet, this is my story. My life. It is all I have endured in this place. It is my truth and I shall speak it, even if it is only to this little battered journal.

They continue to torment me. They demand of me all sorts of horrors. I refuse to give in. How much longer I can deny my new nature, I do not know. I hope at times that I will go mad so they will slay me.

But where was I? Oh, yes. My first night as a true vampire…

I awoke. I found myself in utter darkness. Like a rushing wind, the memory of the night before came vividly to my mind. My hands impacted with the lid of the coffin, and I could feel my long nails scraping against the wood.

“Let me out! Release me!”

The lid drew back, and Cneajna stared down at me with her beguiling eyes. “Come.”

I sat up to find myself surrounded by the vampires. Vlad stood at the end of my coffin bearing a lantern, its light illuminating his dark features.

“Do you feel the call of the night?”

His words were meaningless. “I feel nothing.” I slowly stood up, the heavy cloak of my hair falling down my back. I told no lie to Vlad. I truly felt nothing. Just deadness within. A strange, forlorn deadness.

“She still thinks she is mortal,” Elina scoffed.

Vlad drew near to me and gently lifted my face. “Do you feel the hunger?”

I pulled away from his grasp, gingerly stepping out of the coffin. I ignored his question, concentrating on the strange appearance of my body. I felt detached from my own flesh.

Cneajna took hold of my shoulder. “Glynis, what do you feel?”

“I told you. Nothing.”

“It is not yet time.” Vlad snorted contemptuously. He turned on his heel and swept out of the decaying chapel.

“What a weakling vampire,” Elina said with scorn before following her Master.

“It will come soon,” Ariana said with a smile.

I realized she was trying to console me. I did not know what they spoke of and did not care. I actually did not care about anything at all. I just felt so completely dead.

“I do not like this,” Cneajna said. She pensively studied my features. “The hunger should be consuming her.”

“I thought you said that every vampire birth is different,” Ariana reminded her.

I did not pay much heed to the two vampire women conversing close to me. I absently wandered around the chapel studying my ghastly surroundings. My long red hair trailed down my back like a red robe. A sharp thought flashed through my numbed mind. I turned toward them.

“I will not drink blood,” I stated.

Cneajna cast a dark look toward me. “What did you say?”

“I will not drink blood.” I felt quite defiant, and my voice reflected that energy. I looked away, my eyes glistening with sudden tears. Slowly, the numbness was dying. The deep pain of losing all that I had held dear was once more beginning to ache within my cold body. “I understand now what you have done to me. You have killed me and damned me to this place. But I will not drink the blood of others. You cannot make me and I will not. I would rather die.”

Cneajna seemed slightly unnerved by my quickly shifting moods. “Of course you will feed. You are a vampire. It is our way.”

“Not my way. I did not choose this life. I do not want it.”

“Oh, but you will feed. The hunger will come, and you will feed.”

“You cannot force me!” I shouted at her.

Cneajna drew herself up, haughtily regarding me. “I will not have to. The hunger will come and you will feed.”

“No, I will not!” I snatched the lid off the coffin that had imprisoned me and held it over my head. “And I will not sleep in this coffin! I am not dead! Do you hear me! I am not dead!”

“You are a vampire.”

With a shriek of rage at Cneajna’s words, I brought the coffin lid down. With furious blows, I reduced the ornate coffin to splinters in a matter of seconds.

Ariana cowered behind Cneajna, her eyes wide and frightened. “Is it the madness?”

“No, worse,” Cneajna answered.

“What is worse than madness?”

I whirled on them and stared at Cneajna, my chest heaving, my eyes wild.

Cneajna tilted her head as she gazed at me, slowly stroking Ariana’s hair. “One who fights the hunger.”

I hissed at them and fled.

I raced through the corridors of the castle, a rage burning so intensely I felt as if it would consume me. My long red hair trailed behind me, my skirts flaring out around legs. I ran blindly, crashing through doors, toppling furniture, and leaping down stairs.

Beyond the castle walls, the howling of the wolves pierced the night and joined my screams of fury.

Slamming through a doorway, I found myself in the cavernous kitchens of the castle. Several gypsies sat at a table eating their supper. One of the women screamed when she saw me. That old shrew Ilona rose hesitantly to her feet.

“What do you want here?” Her voice quivered.

At the time, I did not realize how frightening my appearance was to the servants with my long nails, fierce eyes, and wild expression. I was also oblivious to the fact that my long teeth were visible behind my red lips. I had yet to comprehend how truly frightening my visage can be.

“I am hungry,” I responded truthfully. I was hungry. Famished.

One of the gypsy men ran out of the room in fright. My eyes followed him. I was tempted to follow, but I was uncertain as to why. This was the kitchen. Food was here. I returned my gaze to Ilona.

“The Master…the Master…” Ilona took a deep breath. “Did the Master send you to us?”

I moved toward her, watching her every movement, fascinated by the sight of her chest rising and falling so swiftly. “No, he did not.”

“Then, perhaps, you should leave,” Ilona suggested.

“No.” I stared at the swarthy faces of the frightened gypsies. I was so hungry that the hollowness within me was calling out to be filled. With one taloned hand, I reached out, plucking a wine goblet from the table.

One of the gypsy women crossed herself as one of the men grabbed a heavy knife from the table.

I lifted the goblet to my lips and drank in the wine with large gulps. The red liquid spilled down my chin, staining my white gown. With trembling fingers, I began to tear at the roasted meat set on the table. Shoving great pieces of meat into my mouth, I ate ravenously. Shredding a loaf of bread, I gazed at Ilona. Staring at her only made me hungrier.

“Call the Master,” Ilona whispered to a young man beside her.

Stuffing chunks of bread into my mouth, I grabbed up a bottle from the table. Desperately hungry, I moved down the table swallowing down morsels of food and gulping down the wine.

The firelight caught in the dark eyes of the gypsies anxiously watching me. I was mesmerized by them and reached out to one of the women. The girl shrieked, falling back against the wall.

“I am so hungry,” I whispered. “Is there more food?”

“It is not food you desire,” Ilona responded in a soft voice.

Sluggishly, her words registered in my mind. With a growing sense of horror, I realized her words were true. My eyes widened as crumbs of food fell from my slack mouth. The bottle of wine crashed to the floor, shattering into tiny shards.

“What are you doing?” Cneajna hurled herself into the room and caught me up. “You cannot eat these things!”

I staggered backwards. “I am hungry.”

“Not for these things! Did you drink the wine?”

“Yes.”

“Good, then your body will be able to accept what you have forced into it. Consuming food will weaken you. Thankfully, you are newly made.” Cneajna grabbed hold of me, pulling me from the table. “If Vlad knew what you have done-“

“I do know.” He stormed across the stone floor, lifting his hand high above his head.

I was so stunned to see him I did not react until he dealt me a powerful blow with the back of his hand.

“I give you the dark gift and you do this?” Grabbing hold of my long hair, he wrenched my head upwards.

“Mercy on her, Master! Mercy! She does not understand,” Cneajna exclaimed.

“Do not defy me, Cneajna!” He bared his long fangs at her, his eyes glowing with anger. Returning his gaze to me, he said, “Do not defile your body with this mortal food again. You are a vampire!”

I felt cold tears coursing down my face as I stared up into the face of the monster that claimed to be my Master. I could not comprehend his words. They were twisted and strange to my ears. All I could fully understand was my absolute despair and desperate desire to be far from this place. And the hunger, the awful, tearing, consuming hunger.

Vlad grabbed my face with one hand, squeezing it fiercely, his long nails digging into my cheeks. “Do you understand my words, dear wife? Do you understand?”

“I do not want to be in this place,” I cried out.

Snarling at me, his face twisted with his rage. He pulled me across the floor by my hair, then slammed me into the wall. “You are my wife. You will not leave this place. You are my Bride and you will feed!”

The cold stones of the wall pressed against my cheek as I fell against it, my strength gone.

“Do not turn your face from me!”

“Mercy on her, Master!”

“Silence, Cneajna! Do you hear me, Glynis?”

I could feel his anger pressing against my back as I hid my face against the wall.

“I will not be ignored!” Vlad struck me again, this time across the back of my head.

I fell to the floor, my hair splayed out around me.

“Mercy! Please, give her mercy! She is young and foolish! She-“

Cneajna was cut off by a furious blow across her face.

“Silence! Do not defy me!” He turned back to me and kicked me brutally in the ribs. When I did not respond, he howled.

Instinctively, fearing the next assault, I began to crawl away from him, my hands sliding across the stones. Breathing heavily, tears blinding my eyes, I scrambled desperately away from my tormentor.

To my surprise, I heard Vlad began to laugh with delight. I blinked my tears from my eyes and dared to look over my shoulder. To my shock, I was staring down at Vlad and Cneajna. Both vampires were gazing up at me with vastly different expressions.

Vlad was definitely delighted.

“Yes! Excellent! Look at yourself! Yes, this is much better! Much better!” Vlad continued to chuckle, his anger gone.

Still bemused by the whole situation, he sauntered from the kitchen, his laughter trailing behind him. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">

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