5 out of 5 stars: A deadly and dashing vampire
He wiped out entire families, communities, and towns, because when the blood called for him to feed, he answered it.
Then one snowy Christmas Eve, it all changed for him.
After finishing his feast with the father of a small family, he had ventured downstairs to wipe his mouth and look for anything of value. While he was rummaging through their safe, the splash of Christmas tree lights caught his attention. He turned to face it, and then saw all of the presents underneath. It was the children’s toys that intrigued him the most.
He walked over, and dropped down to his knees in front of the tree. He picked up a small red firetruck and then glanced to the upstairs area. The child he had so ruthlessly drained of blood would never hold this thing because of him. He paused on that thought for a moment, and then something happened to him, something that hadn’t happened in a very long time. He cried, and cried, and cried. He cried until the sun was slipping onto the horizon.
Unable to get home, he hurried downstairs, and buried himself deep in the basement floor. The next night, he slipped out without anyone noticing; and decided, while he hurried back to his home tomb, from that moment forward to make amends for all the wrong he had been a part of since he was born into vampire life. Christmas seemed like the best time of year to accomplish this new goal, and along with this new goal he vowed to kill only those who do evil and harm to this world.
Were there slip ups after this? Killing some who probably didn’t deserve it, sure, but those were during true feasting times, times when his hunger was so strong he couldn’t keep it at bay. He always felt bad after, but he had to do what vampires do. He had to live, and that life depended on the consumption of human blood, and the death of mortal life.
He grabbed his coat nearby, a Member’s Only Jacket from somewhere back in the Eighties, and slipped it on, zipped it up. He had bought up boxes of these jackets as they drifted off into the ancient relics of days gone by. They may look tacky now, but he really didn’t care. It was a jacket that fit his comfort and his style.
His vampire body rumbled with hunger. It was time to feast, and he was feeling especially hungry. He grabbed a heavy brown sack that jingled as he lifted it then made his way to the door with the sack slung over his back. He looked like Santa Claus – A Vampire Santa Claus – ready for his Christmas Eve deliveries.
He turned the door handle, pushed the door forward, and stepped out onto a small smooth landing. He closed the door to the tomb behind him, and looked up. Dirt stairs stretched upward as they climbed between bare Earth-filled walls.
When he reached the top of this set of stairs, Talan stopped and pushed up. A square patch of Earth lifted into the air, and fell gently onto the ground beside the hole. Talan tossed out the sack, and climbed out.
He surveyed the area. A soft white snow was falling, coating the dark forest, as it fell flake by flake to the ground. Talan smiled, first Christmas snow in a while. Hunger raced across his body again, instincts on high alert. He really needed to feed.
He put the patch of Earth back over the hole, stepped on it a few times in order to make sure it was in place, and to make sure if anyone stepped on it they wouldn’t fall through. Happy that it was secure, and that his home was safe, he picked up the sack, and started to move upwards. Before long, he was in the air, clothes flapping in the breeze, hair blowing out behind him, and gliding towards this year’s city of choice.
It was a cold December night.
It was a cold flight . . . to be continued next Sunday at 6 A.M. Did you miss a post? Check out the Category “Tales from the Blog” in order to catch up. Have a great Sunday.
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