The Darkest Hour

It was the dreariest night of all. The clouds were beginning to form for the storm up North was moving lower. Thunder is beginning to be heard in the distance.
My name is Rayne and this is the best time on day, night. As I sit, peering outside, owls are who-ing, crows are flying, and the moonlight is shining. The house is creaking from old age. The halls are very dark with only a single flame to light them.
The rooms are vacant. Well, except for the ghouls that supposedly haunts them. You see, my house is rumored to be an old torture chamber for unwelcome guests in the quaint little town. As soon as these words hit my ears, I knew I had to find out for myself.
I am new to this town. I believe the mortals call it, "Dark Valley." What a weird name for such a nice community. This town is said to be the threshold for many dark and mysterious things. I just moved here about four months ago.
Oh, and you might have noticed I have defined those living outside my creaky doorway as "mortals." Well, they are. For I am no longer among the living, I am a Vampire. I prowl the night searching for my prey. The blood of an innocent bystander serves my palate well. Although, the taste of an evil-doer is much better, more satisfying.
My sadistic and blood-thirsty behavior has no doubt cost me a few friends and made me some equally evil enemies. Friends are hard to come by in this day and age. But they are easily spared. I sit, peering outdoors, hearing the heavy breeze blow the leaves on the trees and I feel a soft gust hit my face through my open window. I knew it was time to hunt. I was starting to get hungry and I felt my tongue touch the tip of my teeth and my thirst grew a little more.
I ignored that thirst for a little bit. I decided to shut my window, which was easy due to my strength 20 times more than the average mortal male. I turned my back to the night sky and started to take a stroll from my house. I can still hear the tortured screaming and cries of those who have paid a visit to this chamber over the years.
When I first moved here, the torture devices still lay in the basement and attic. There were blood stains all over the walls and the floors. Whoever left here, must have left in a hurry.
I had to do some minor redecorating, but I liked the old look. There are still some stains on the walls. I enjoy looking at them to remember who laid there bleeding. Sometimes, I look around and wonder to myself, "Who was the one to look down at such a soul and watch their life force flow out of them and their lives flowing away?" Another side of me, the compassionate side, wonders, "What were the last words of that poor soul, if any?"
I couldn't take the thoughts any more. I got dressed and I went for a stroll in the dark, empty streets. I knew that I would be able to spot an easy catch very quickly. And I did. I saw a man, around the age of 23 to 25. He was handsome; too bad he had to die.
He tipped his hat to me and I gave a forgiving smile. As soon as he passes, I got a whiff of his sweet cologne. I felt sorry for him. But that quickly passed. I turned around. He could sense it. He turned around as well. As soon as he did, I saw the terrified look in his eyes. I walked up to him, slowly and will determination.
"What do you want with me?" he asked.
"One, simple, smooth thing," I said with a velvet voice. My eyes were fierce green peering deep into his soul. He couldn't look away.
"Wha-What do you mean?" he started to stutter. I thought I was sort of cute. But I quickly ignored all feelings and I went in for the kill.
"Your blood," I leaped at him and be both tackled each other to the cold, wet pavement. He was a fighter, I liked it. I liked to work for my food. Although, I soon got annoyed with it, my eyes were locked on this veins plump with that beautiful liquid I so desired.
I ripped his throat open with my sharp nails. He gurgled with the blood flowing into his esophagus. Blood flew everywhere, all over my clothes and the pavement. I enjoyed myself with my meal.
When I finished, I just got up and left his cold, lifeless corpse on the sidewalk. Others would be able to see it. Know that evil is in their town once again. And this time, they can't escape. As soon as I reached my doorway, I sit once more. Indulging my eyes in the beauty of the night sky, you might be thinking, "Why would she want to expose herself in such a way to the public?"
My answer is...let them find me. Let them come.
I lay down in my bed, thinking about my nightly hunt. And as I laid there thinking, I spoke three last words before the night ended. Only three...
"Let them come." The hour stroked midnight.
Category:Monsters