GFK-PAD

A scratchpad for photographic and literary ideas

Sunday, 12/22/2013 – A Vampire Cries

When he first feels me it will be as a chill on his skin. Goose bumps raised, a shiver running through him. A cold breeze blowing through the open doorway to an unwelcoming place.

When he first hears me it will be the trespass of an unseen visitor. Footsteps falling as brittle as winter leaves on a frozen lake. He will listen hard for a patter or a whisper, cocking his head this way and that searching for the sourceless sounds.

When he first sees me it will be as a specter, something transparent and ill-defined just outside of his field of vision, moving up from behind. He will glance over his shoulder in a quick, not-really-wanting-to-see-but-afraid-not-to way.

The day will come when he looks fully upon me. What he sees will be evil, it will be something inhuman. Something not – but probably better off – dead. He will see something vile, something that has desecrated his most sacred places.

To me he will ascribe the devil’s wiles and impart demonic powers. I will be the one who, through some ancient alchemy, transformed your golden will into worthless lead and I alone continue to hold you hostage to my dark desires.

He will see me as a black angel, birthed in the bowels of hell, and loosed upon an innocent world and poor, unsuspecting you. He will see me shape shifting to hide my true nature: leather-winged night creature, coyote, gentleman of the evening.

To protect you he will place himself between us. The heat of his righteous fury flaring against what he perceives as my crypt-cold countenance. His screams will raise – not the dead, but the undead – the living: friends, neighbors, the other innocents. He will rally them, guard them with garlic and golden crosses.

With torches blazing they will track me into the night, their only purpose to drive me from their village, to make themselves safe. A protection against all they fear.

Before they catch me, before they drive their wooden stake through my heart – a heart whose only crime was to love you, before they can kill what they do not understand, kiss me.

Yes, kiss me then lean your head back and let my lips move slowly from yours, tracing a path to your neck. Let us do what we know we must do. Let us do the only thing that will let us both live.

Let us love.

Eternally.

As one.

In the coffin-dark night, this vampire cries.

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