Should I adore him or despise him? A Vampire tale.

Dark Eyes, Cold Embrace

He sought and found me in deep darkness
in the cloying thickness where evil dwells
and creeping creatures of the night rule.
In dense, cloying darkness I heard him
whispering, calling my name, “Elise, Elise.”
His voice was deep, intriguing and sensual.
I stood silently in the intensifying, gray fog
straining to find the direction of his voice.
There arose within my heart a near panic
a driving necessity to find him, wherever
he may be in the darkness of an epic night.
For I seemed to instinctively understand
that my very destiny depended on him.
Only a voice, a compelling persuasion
drove me on to search up and down the
misted, empty avenues in the darkness
in the assurance that I would find him.
My wild fear was replaced with purpose.
I searched until finally I was exhausted
feeling defeated and hopeless in my quest.



Just as I had decided to return home
I felt the excitement of his embrace.
He stood behind me as his insistent arms
encircled my waist and lips lightly brushed
the bare flesh of my neck and shoulders.
He held me fast not allowing me to turn
nor look upon his face in the lamplight.
He pulled me into the darkness of the
churchyard, two stone angels guarded
ornate, wrought iron gates and to my
horror their heads turned, stone eyes
flashed gold in the darkness as sculpted
lips turned up in insidious grins. I saw
pale, gauzy shapes of the dead, weaving
floating, between the ancient headstones.
I could hear the pounding of my heart
as I battled with my shallow breathing.
The end came, as sharp stabbing pain
assaulted my neck, would I see his face?
I struggled to turn, then only darkness.




I trembled, every cell of my body hurt
Choking on his blood he poured into me
gasping for breath, and feeling no
heartbeat within my heaving chest.
I knew then it was too late to change
my eternal fate, it was cold, so cold
I was his now, his eternally, completely.
The fog lifted. a blood moon illuminated
the once dark churchyard, I could hear
the movement of insects and rats
and smell the decay of recently buried
bodies rotting away in their graves.
The stone angels turned toward me
Their once blind eyes grimly staring.
At last I looked into his pallid face
handsome, in an ethereal sort of way.
His eyes as gold as the full moon above
Should I adore him of despise him?
There was no reflection of myself
in his eyes and I knew there must be
no reflection of him in mine, his touch
was cold, I realized I was condemned
forever to dead eyes, cold embraces
and an insatiable thirst for blood.