Posts Tagged ‘prose’

Carmilla’s blonde hair slowly bounced and swayed like serpents across her shoulders as she strode through the train cars with a sense of power and ease that intimidated most people. She looked like royalty without forbearance, an angel without responsibilities, or maybe a devil without horns.

Her clothing, although extravagant and rather cumbersome in appearance, moved in silence as she made her way past those in their seats. Some would stop to stare after her while others who were fast asleep at such a late hour would unintentionally squirm a little, as though something in their dream had changed unexpectedly.

Smoke billowed out of the steam engine as the train cut through the frigid mountain air. The amber light from the windows failed to illuminate anything beyond the cold glass.
Carmilla entered the observation car with most of its metal exterior replaced with glass so that the passengers could take in the beautiful countryside views during their trip. At such a late hour, however, there were few guests inside the observation car.

As she made her way through the car a man reached out from the shadows and grabbed her hand, “Well aren’t you just the most beautiful thing?” he asked as he tried to pull her down onto the padded seat beside him. Carmilla took a slow breath and turned towards him. He had not been able to pull her towards him and yet he did not miss a beat as he ran his tongue over his lips and padded the seat beside him.
Carmilla looked at him then. A handsome man in his late twenties, or early thirties. Dark long curly hair that looked like it had never seen the sweat of hard labor, a tailored suit that wreaked of overcompensation, and a lust in his eyes that she had seen countless times before.
She tilted her head and smiled down at him and without a word or an effort he found her sitting next to him, eyes locked on his. He could smell her perfume, almost taste it. He started to say, “My name’s Br-” but she cut him off with a finger pressed against his lips.
“It doesn’t really matter.” She whispered as she pushed his chin away softly and leaned into his neck. He could feel her breath on his flesh, and it sent shivers racing across his shoulders.
As the train curved around a bend he watched as the moon seemed to slide across the night sky, making the shadows in the observation car shift and move as if they too were alive in the moment. He closed his eyes as he felt her lips touch his neck.
Her fangs pierced deep, and a sense of euphoria flooded through him a split second before he could call out in pain and fear. A fog of acceptance took hold then and had he been able to speak at that moment he would have given away every secret he kept, he would have given her anything, even his life. And he would.

Carmilla drinks deeply and lets his blood slowly warm her own body. His heartbeat begins to slow after a few minutes and the flow begins to dissipate. She slides an arm under his knees and pulls his legs up, riding his neck as he is pulled down in his seat. The flow quickens again as the blood begins to leave his lower extremities. As his heartbeat becomes a whisper, she kisses closed the wounds and lifts her head from his neck.
The shadows in the train car are on the move again as the moon rushes across the night sky’s darkness and Carmilla catches a reflection of moonlight in someone’s eye. She looks up to see a woman of about 19 years old quickly turn away.
Carmilla takes her time lifting the man back into a normal sitting position and tilts his head over toward the window as if he were sleeping. His skin is ghostly white and already cooling to the touch, his lips blue, eyes glazed over. She doesn’t bother closing them.
Carmilla takes a moment and then rises and looks at the woman who doesn’t bother looking away this time. The moonlight reflects in her eyes as Carmilla approaches her.
The woman is clothed in a simple dress, neither rich nor poor. Her long dark hair was straightened and brushed regularly. She smells of soap and lavender as Carmilla sits softly beside her.
Carmilla expected her to ask of the man or rather of his untimely demise but instead, the lady says, “I’m sure we’ve never met but you remind me of someone. I just can’t quite put my finger on it.”
Carmilla smiles, “Maybe it was in another life.” She offers.
“Possibly.” The lady replies as she nervously smiles in return. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you two, I’m sorry.” She lowers her head in shame.
Carmilla lifts her chin slowly and looks into her eyes, “You didn’t my dear.”
The lady lets her gaze fall back down as Carmilla releases her chin and Carmilla looks down to see the lady self-consciously rubbing a bruise on her thigh. She lets her fingertips brush over it and the memory of the dead man comes to her as she watches him sit next to the lady and try to force himself on her before a group of riders moving through the train come in and he is forced to stop. As he gets up to change seats the memory fades.
Carmilla looks at the woman and promises, “He’ll never hurt you.” As she lifts her fingertips from her thigh the woman watches as the bruise itself is no more.
She looks up at Carmilla, “How?”
“How what?” Carmilla asks mischievously.

The woman explains that she is traveling home with some restored family paintings for her father. Her father had made her promise not to leave her sleeping cabin, but she just wanted to see the moon and the stars. She would pause occasionally, to look over at the man in the shadows, and after a while Carmilla finally told her, “He’s dead, love.”

Instead of the expected expression of fear, the woman looked at Carmilla with curious eyes and Carmilla told her they really should go back to her cabin as they didn’t want to be here when someone found him and the questions that would come with that discovery.
She led the way and Carmilla could almost imagine her body beneath the dress. The way it would move, how beautiful it must be. She had to refrain from using a sharpened fingernail to cut a shoulder strap as she walked behind her.

The rumbling of the train masked the sound of thunder in the distance as clouds swept across the night sky, obscuring the moon and stars.
Inside the cabin, the woman lit some candles, and they sat together on the bench that folded out into a bed.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have anything to offer in the way of drink or food. I wasn’t expecting guests to be honest.” The woman says to break the silence.

Carmilla smiled, “Your company is more than enough. Would you help me with this?” she asked as she turned and offered her back to the woman, “It’s really uncomfortable.”
The woman lifted some of the ruffles of Carmilla’s outfit to find buckles and buttons. With Carmilla directing her she helped her out of the most bothersome portions of her dress. Carmilla sighed in relief as she stretched in her silk undergarments. She smiled as she watched the woman’s gaze linger over her body.

The cabin wasn’t as cold as the frigid night outside, but it was still cool, and she felt her nipples harden as she lowered her arms and the hem of her top slipped down off her exposed hip and covered her again. She pretended not to notice the woman staring and asked if she would like to change into something more comfortable.
“I don’t really have anything.” The woman replied.

“You don’t really need anything.” Carmilla teased as she reached around the woman, pushing her hair out of the way and slowly lowering the zipper on the back of her dress.
The woman’s breath caught in her throat momentarily as Carmilla’s hand brushed against her neck, but she didn’t try to pull away or even turn from her. Instead, her eyes opened a little wider as they found Carmilla’s gaze, her lips trembling.
Carmilla started to lean in and whispered, “Kiss me.”

Their lips met, and a touch of timid tenderness was exchanged. “Again” Carmilla whispered, and the woman kissed her. Lips slowly parting, tongues teasing. Carmilla held the woman’s cheek in her palm and let her eyes fall shut. When she opened them again, she found the woman’s eyes locked on hers still.
She smiled gently and said, “Breathe, love. This isn’t a test.”

The woman let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and kissed Carmilla then, letting her lust lead the way. There was a hunger in her touch as her hands explored Carmilla’s shoulders and neck, followed closely by her lips. The woman didn’t know it but at one point she was positioned over Carmilla’s artery and Carmilla smiled in the candlelight as she imagined what it would feel like to receive that first bite again. How she would melt under this woman’s spell if somehow, she had fangs to sink into Carmilla’s vulnerable human skin.

Carmilla could feel the heat from the woman’s hand as she caressed her breast through the silk top. She was kissing around her collarbone, clearly wanting to go lower so Camilla pulled away just long enough to lift her top over her head and discard it to the floor. Her breasts were as pale as the rest of her, but the candlelight and recent feeding gave them a tinge of color. The chill in the air was quickly overshadowed by the heat of the woman’s mouth. She sucked and kissed them, moaning and caressing as she explored Carmilla in ways she had only fantasized about late at night, alone with her thoughts and curiosities.

Carmilla ran a hand up the back of the woman’s neck and once she had a firm handful of her hair she lifted her softly back up to her eye line and said, “My turn.”
The woman’s eyes lit up with desire and she tried to reach behind her to unzip her dress the rest of the way but with a firm palm to her chest, Carmilla gently pushed her backward until her back was against the bench seat. The woman barely had time to get her arms out from under her before Carmilla laid her down and kissed her. The woman wrapped her arms around Carmilla and pulled her close. Carmilla kissed down the side of her cheek and found her neck. She could not only feel her pulse beating rapidly but she could hear it, it taunted her, begged her. She resisted the urge but let her fangs slice gently across the woman’s skin, licking the little bit of blood and sealing the wounds as she moved back up and over them with her tongue.

Carmilla ran a hand up and down the woman’s thigh, just barely going above the knee before moving back down. The moans of consent were heavy in the air and Carmilla tested her nails against her skin. Softly pushing them against her flesh but not hard enough to draw blood. “Yes.” She whimpered and Carmilla dragged them up the inside of her thigh, higher than before. The woman squirmed in pleasure. She did it again, this time going all the way up the woman’s inner thigh. She wasn’t wearing any undergarments and before she could writhe her way onto Carmilla’s hand she ran them back down her thigh.
“Please.” The woman begged and Carmilla slowly ran her fingers up her thigh, higher, until they met the wet soft folds of her, and the woman let out a moan that rivaled the thunder that was drawing closer and closer with each minute that passed.

Carmilla ran her fingers through her pubic hair and over her womanhood, gently exploring and teasing. She let a finger slide just inside and open her outer labia as her mouth found the inside of the woman’s thigh. She let her breath be felt on her as she kissed across the groin. The woman writhed and pushed down and Carmilla could taste her then on her lips. She found her clit throbbing and waiting and took it into her mouth, being careful of her fangs. As the woman rocked back and forth, lost in an ocean of moans and gasps Carmilla would have to use her tongue to tease her clit as her fingers splayed and rubbed against her. She was cautious not to let a finger enter her as she feared her nails would do more harm than good.

Even though the woman was in a way under Carmilla she still seemed to ride Carmilla, pulling her in, keeping her close, as if she wanted her inside of her completely.
Carmilla, lost in the moment as well, found herself licking and kissing the very inside her the woman’s thigh. The blood in the deep external pudendal artery smelled like wine and strawberries and before she could stop herself Carmilla sank her fangs deep into the woman’s thigh as she grabbed the front of her dress and pulled down. The straps that held the dress on the woman’s shoulders quickly tore away and exposed her breasts. They swayed with the movement before coming to rest as the woman was lost in the euphoria of Carmilla.

“I remember you. From my dream.” The woman managed to whisper. Carmilla caught a glimpse of the memories she had stolen long ago as the woman started to remember.
Carmilla stopped and rose to meet the woman’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Laura.” She said before sinking her fangs into the woman’s breast.

A single tear formed in the corner of the woman’s eye and slid down her cheek as her mind clouded over in a fog and she drifted off to sleep.

In a dream, Laura heard a voice that said, “Your mother warns you to beware of the assassin.” Before a thunder crash woke her and she bolted upright in bed. As the lightning strike bathed the room in light, she thought she saw a woman standing at the foot of the bed, drenched in blood. When she blinked and wiped her eyes, there was nobody there.

She couldn’t quite remember coming back to her room. The last thing she remembered was going to the observation car to look at the moon.

Laura heard something in the corner of the room move. She clutched the bed sheets to her chest and stared hard into the dark corner of the room. Lightning cracked across the heavens outside the train window, and she caught the reflected eyes of a cat staring at her. As the light died away, she thought she could still see the eyes glowing as thunder cracked and rumbled like an omen across the world outside as well as in.

Sometimes, in the dark, I pretend you’re still here. I might whisper your name into the sheets, or run my palm over the curve of a pillow.

I miss your kisses. All of them. From the nervous little peck that left your cheeks red and tingly, to the messy ones so full of need and desire it floods the mood like a tidal surge.

I miss the snuggles and the cuddles. The back hugs that made me smile, and the way you would tilt your head towards mine as you laid your hand on mine when I held you from behind.

I miss the way you would flirt. The teasing changed depending on who was around. From playful, to sneaky, to just a little bit shocking. It created currents of excitement and wonder. And gave a little hope and fuel to a dying flame that was my heart

I miss the way you would touch me. The way you would slip your hand into mine and give it a squeeze, or hook your arm around mine and march through life at my side. Your touch, made me feel wanted. Something no amount of words can ever come close to doing.

But those things are all gone now. Only the memories remain to remind me of what can never be.

Sometimes I start to dream again, start to wonder… But then you laugh in the darkness and I know that sound, I know what it means.
It’s the death of hope and the end of dreams.

She smiled casually and told me not to worry, that we are dreaming, and all answers can be found within the dream.

As her fingers slipped from my grasp I held back the desire to call out for her to be careful as she walked into the forest. For I’ve been in dreams before, and I know that while you may find the answers you seek, the hardest part is finding your way back to the place where that knowledge is needed.

You see, the dream is a world that collects its toll only while you are within it. It will give up its secrets, but then spin you off into another puzzle as it works to keep you trapped deep inside and distracted.

It’s the reason I’ve slept for seven days, and although I’ve awakened screaming a dozen times, I’m still very much trapped in here, but I am learning the game, I am figuring out how to free myself.

Look there, that building looks inviting. Wait, wasn’t there someone I was with? Never mind, let’s go see what is inside.

I met her in the strangest of ways, the beauty of my world. She found me nestled upon shattered safety glass and smoke, twisted steel, and spilled gasoline. Her touch was like an angel as it removed every ounce of fear from me. The confusion that had surrounded me like a fog was whisked away by her refreshing winds as I started to recall the headlights a moment before. My love did not think I needed to remember that though and she kissed me then. Oh, how those lips can remedy the worst the world has to give.

When she pulled back from the kiss, I opened my eyes and asked her name. She replied, “The next step in life is death, now take my hand and walk with me.”

I remember feeling like I was floating as I left behind the wreckage on the interstate, I could almost hear other people shouting far off in the distance, but I was so absolutely in love with her then. As the other voices drifted deeper into my past her name whispered itself into my mind. She was Death, and she was beautiful.

Trinkets

Posted: January 10, 2023 in Stories
Tags: , ,

He couldn’t stop shifting his gaze from her eyes to her necklace. “I don’t understand witchcraft stuff but you are amazing,” he whispered.

“Maybe you’re under a spell,” she teased.

“Is that what that’s for?” he asked, pointing at the strange face with fangs and a protruding tongue that hung from a chain around her neck.

She wrapped her hand around it as she laughed, “This? I was hoping you were looking at me this whole time.”

He just slowly shook his head as he stared at it, trying to figure out if it was something he had seen before.

“It’s the Gorgon, it’s supposed to protect from evil,” she offered.

He finally looked up and met her gaze, “I would never hurt you,” he promised sincerely.

She smiled as she let her gaze drift off behind him, “I don’t wear it to protect me, I wear it to protect others.”

“Others?” He asked cautiously.

“Yes,” she replied, “cause the moment you showed interest my demons all started asking me if it was, ‘time to play’.”

The moon was hidden by the clouds as I struggled to find my sight in the dark.
In the distance, trees were being ripped apart as it came for me. I could hear the loud crack of the tree trunks splitting. I could hear the thunder of their roots being pulled from the earth and the rocks and debris that fell from them as they were lifted out of the way. Even the very ground rumbled under Deaths footfalls.
There was no silent reaper in a robe, that was children’s tales and make-believe. This was a God of death, and he was coming for me.
I lost my footing in the creek and fell into the dry creek bed. Dirt and dust covered my face and stung my eyes and throat as I scrambled back to my feet and clawed my way up the other side.
I didn’t dare look back because in my mind it was right there, talons reaching for me already. I expected it any second. I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts or my own clumsy thrashing about. Just that thunderous roar and snapping branches that seemed to be so very close.
I decided to give up then. To just stop running.
I could hear my breathing then. I could hear me sucking in air and almost sobbing as I exhaled. It was over, I didn’t want this anymore.
A few seconds went by when I realized I was listening to my own breathing and only my own breathing. Nothing else. No thunderous war-drum beating footfalls, no splintering of three-hundred-year-old trees, nothing.
It was just me.
Alone.
I sat down with my back against a tree and waited. Slowly the nocturnal animals began to come out and the silence was filled by the sounds of wildlife. I smiled at the peacefulness of it all.
It took me hours to realize that I was Death.

Have you seen a willow weep?
I have. I’ve watched as her branches and leaves shuttered in the breeze, sobbing for help.
I’ve heard the wail of agony as the wind cut through her, felt the sting of her lash upon my face as the demons that dance in the shadows of her sorrow lashed out, hoping that they could bring fear back to this valley.
I am not afraid of them, but I am afraid. I’m afraid that you will lose sight of hope when the night grows dark, and give in to fear. I beg you, don’t do it! Yours may be the last fear they need to lay claim to this place once more, for, with this breath, they now have mine.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her face as he slowly lifted the front of her shirt.
Her eyes were closed, a mix of anticipation and excitement clouded with a bit of shyness seemed to wash over her.
He felt for the edge of her bra and gently peeled it away, the soft fabric not giving him much of a fight.
As he leaned closer she arched her back towards him. His eyes still on her face he felt her nipple brush against his lips as a moan broke the seal of hers.
He started to open his mouth when a something long and slimy pushed out from her nipple, brushed past his lips, and darted into his mouth. He reflexively gagged and tried to pull away but it slid deeper down his throat, pulling him to her like a tether. He tried to look down but could see nothing as his face mashed into her bosom. When he tried to nash his teeth together it simply slipped between them like a string, only to grow inside his throat. His breath was stolen as he tried to claw at her with his hands. Each time he raked his fingernails down her skin she shivered and moaned as she cradled the back of his head with her hands and whispered, “Thank you.”
He bucked and tried to pull free, but the only thing that moved was the pile of bones beneath her bed.
The shadows outside pushed against the glass of the window as they watched.
One of them scrawled in the condensation, “Beautiful.”

Is this fiction? Maybe. Or maybe once upon a time, I was a shadow. Maybe now you know why you sometimes catch me glancing at your chest. It isn’t perversion that drives me to do such things. It’s preservation.

She self-destructs so silently
Never the volcanic outcry of torment
She shakes like the shiver before the dawn
But wilts and tears loose the petals
Revealing salty tears of dew
That seep to surface
So slowly
Painfully

I see you

With your
Scars behind bars
How you flirt with the curtains
Let the starlight flicker
Across the old
A grin to show they won
But there is danger on your quiet tongue
Your eyes they betray
The portrayed calm
Nothing is alright
Your fingertips still pull away red
From the hem of that dark dress

I have handfuls of tears
To wash away the blood
But I’m locked away
Within my own cage
Scars behind bars
Dipping toes into the spotlight
As the curtains slam closed
Just long enough to juggle
Distractions for the masses
So they can laugh and cheer
In the dark

I’m sorry

“Why do you always look away when I look into your eyes? Are you embarrassed by me or maybe you just don’t want me to see the pain in them?” I asked with a sigh of weariness.
She didn’t look up as she answered truthfully, “I’m afraid you’ll see the arsonist burning behind them and run away.”
I lifted her chin until our eyes met, a small smile on my lips, “Sometimes your eyes are all that keep me warm, I’m not going anywhere.”
I kissed her then for the first time with my eyes open, letting her see the beautiful reflection of her eyes in mine.
I felt her smile when she saw the flames.