Halloween Ghost Story Contest -- 2007
Adult Winners
Third Place
|
Our third place Adult winner is Dean Young of Youngsville, NC. Mr. Young writes:
|
|
Our third place Adult winner is Dean Young of Youngsville, NC. Mr. Young writes:
|
As I look out from the comforting darkness of the alley, the night seems to mock my very existence. Lights shine down upon the concrete like islands of sanctuary from the darkness Watching the people go by made my mind fall into a fantasy of what once was. I once was as happy as the young couple in love stepping into the cab; as weary as the old man leaning against the broken wall and as fearful as the man walking quickly down the street, constantly glancing over his shoulder at the shadows that spawn endless nightmares.
The fear, though, that is what I remember the most. A fear that his pride would be wounded. A fear that he would lose all he had worked for. A fear that his wife would leave. A fear that he would lose his virility. A fear of what lies hidden in his deepest and darkest thoughts. A fear that someone may find out his most closely guarded secrets. A fear that his life may be taken. A fear, perhaps, of not knowing if there is something beyond the mortal world, and if there is, will he be judged worthy of being there. A fear that perhaps there is something beyond humanity. I found out the fear that there is something beyond humanity is a real one…a very real one.
Something that I have learned is that mortal man knows nothing of fear. There are far darker fears than what even the most imaginative mortal can ever imagine. Does he fear the rays of the sun, where once he could walk and feel the warmth of the sun on his body, now will turn him to nothing but ashes? The cross, something that once gave great comfort, does he know the fear of this, feeling as if God has turned his back on him? Watching those he loved in life grow old and die, while he never ages, knowing that he could save them this, but at too high a price. Is this a fear that he can even begin to imagine? Knowing a hunger that burns your stomach if it is not sated, and a fear of what must be done to feed that hunger, is this something a mortal man understands? Nothing at all, that is what man knows of fear. The fears that I knew as a mortal are nothing compared to what I now know. God, if you can accept the prayers of such as me, please let these fears end.
The fears of mortal men are like a long forgotten dream, now replaced by inner fears of a far darker nature. These fears came the day that I lost my mortality and gained the curse of immortality. When I think back to the night that I received the dark embrace of my sire, the night I began my descent into my own Hell.
It was a night not unlike this very night. It happened on a street not unlike the one I currently gazed upon. I remember that it was like this very night...I was walking along a deserted street. The night was just clearing up from several days of rain, and I treaded warily through a light fog. Ordinary noises seemed magnified and muffled at the same time. The hairs on the back of my neck stood, while a clammy sweat began to seep into my hands. Tonight, I don’t know what it was, but I could sense something was not right this night. A cat looking out at me from a doorway seemed to have red glowing eyes. A stray dog seemed to slink away quicker, its tail tucked far under it, its body almost dragging the ground. No lights burned in the windows, as if the buildings themselves were aware of the terror that stalked this night, and were in mourning for what was to befall me.
While I walked, I suddenly heard the footsteps behind me, along with a soft feminine laugh that was oh so cold. Slowly at first and then quicker, the footsteps came. Looking over my shoulder, I spied a shadowy form that avoided the pools of light thrown down by the overhead lamps. There were times that the figure and the footsteps faded completely away, only to reappear, with the same cold laugh to accompany my stalker’s return. During these short reprieves my mind and body relaxed. My mind would stop wondering when the mugger would strike, taking my money and my valuables. My body would cease pumping adrenalin into my blood; something I’ve since learned makes the feeding sweeter for the hunter. I can almost laugh now at how much I wish it had been a mugger that night.
When the attack came, it was totally unexpected; after a long time without the footsteps or the shadowy figure, she was suddenly on me. What I remember most are the red eyes and the flashing white fangs. A vise-like grip was on my shoulders as another hand clamped over my mouth, cutting off any cries for help. Quickly I was pulled into an alleyway and I looked into the face of my death or so I thought. A face came into view, a face both terrible and beautiful. She had features that were perfect, but showed no emotion at all. Her eyes were the color of light blue ice, and showed as much warmth. Her lips were as red as the blood that was soon to stain them. She did not rip out my throat as I expected her to do, instead she pierced the veins on my wrist, and began to drink deeply.
As my blood drained from me, I began to fade into darkness and consciousness began to fall from me. I don't know what made her decide to share her "gift" with me; loneliness, the desire to spread her curse, or just the desire to show how evil she was. All I do know is that I awoke to the sensation of an incredible fire in my stomach. This fire was extinguished as I sucked on the wrist that I found at my mouth. As I regained my senses. I was told what I had become and what I must do to survive.
This drove me quite insane for a long period of time. It was during this time that I discovered why the myth of vampire bites on the neck are just that, a myth. This was another lesson to be learned on one of my first hunts. My victim was a young woman, who had a remarkable resemblance to my sire. There were marked differences between the two though. Where as my sire’s features were cold, there was life to this woman’s eyes, and there was fear there. The fear that she knew her life was about to end. Along with the fear, there was also a look of resignation to that fact. Looking at it, I could take no more and ripped her throat out, but was unable to swallow more than a few mouthfuls before her lifeless body slid to the ground My sire laughed at my inexperience, fueling my hatred for her even more. That night two died to sate my hunger, the second a homeless man that mumbled endlessly it seemed as I fed. Memories such as this…it is a wonder that I even have some sanity left. It is so easy to slip into the persona of the monster that I have become to block these memories, but they always return to me, along with the screams that slowly fade to a gurgling as the life slips from my victim.
For several years, I traveled with my sire, from city to city, sometimes staying for days, sometimes weeks, and on occasion several months. Each day, my sire reminded me of what I was, a blood sucking monster from the darkest depths of hell. Each night, I hunted with my sire, for even as much as I hated her, I was able to learn more of her and from her. I did learn much from her during this time. There is an entire society of immortals that thrive in the modern world. No one believes in the supernatural, and we are able to walk among our cattle at our leisure, taking what we want as we want.
It was during this time that I discovered two other fears of the immortals. The first is not one that I have personally felt, but one that I was only too happy to inspire This is the fear that is realized when even the shell of life that my kind calls immortality will be lost. On a hunt, my sire had chosen her victim unwisely. The choice she had made carried a weapon with him, a handgun. Handguns will not kill us, but they still do wound us and cause us harm. As my sire made her attack upon the man, he was able to draw his handgun and fire several shots into my sire. Blindly she struck out and did manage to get her hand to his throat and break his neck with a loud cracking noise. As the man fell to the ground lifeless, my sire slid down beside of him. She slowly clawed her way towards him, knowing that the blood would heal her. Seeing my chance, I moved to my sire and grabbed the corpse and threw it casually to the side. Pure hatred now had possession of me as I looked down with hatred and loathing at my sire. Here was the creature that was responsible for my curse, weak and at my mercy, as I once was at hers. A slow evil smile spread onto my face. I began to savor the idea that at last, this thing was at my mercy. I looked into her eyes and saw several things there. The first was hatred of me, she knew that I would never be able to best her under normal circumstances, she was simply too powerful. But with this was something that made the smile on my face even more evil. At last she was experiencing fear of me. Long had I been in fear of her, but now…now she was the one at my mercy. Just as years before, she had shown me none, we both knew she would receive none from me. Moving towards her, my fangs grew longer, I reached her and bent down to whisper to her that her true death was at hand. Caressing her face, I slid myself lower over her, watching the fear grow deeper and deeper in her eyes. I lowered my knee onto her throat to keep her from moving and to prevent her from taking my blood. I reached down and pulled her arm to my mouth. Teasingly, I ran my tongue down her wrist before finally breaking her skin and feeding. Slowly I drained her of her blood, watching the hate grow less and less while the fear grew stronger. As the last of her blood was drained, her head fell loosely, lifeless at last. This was the sweetest revenge I could have had for what she did to me. It was not a gift of immortality that she gave me, but a curse that haunts my very soul for all eternity.
The second fear is by far the worst that I have. This fear is one that constantly haunts me in my dreams and my waking moments. For all of the reasons that I despised my sire for making me what I am now, the fear is still there that I will one day share this “gift” of immortality with one of my victims. Each night, there is loneliness with me. There is no one to share the hunt with, no one to savor the kill with. As great as the desire not to share my curse, the thought of spending all of eternity alone weighs heavily upon me and is not a thought I enjoy experiencing. Each night I do wonder what it would be like to have someone with me, and each night I remember what I went through. Each night I realize I am a monster, but am I still human enough to realize the curse that the desire for blood brings with it? Each night, the reasons for me not doing this become less important. This is my greatest fear, that I will one day be as weak as my sire and doom another poor soul to the ranks of the Damned.
I look up into the night and realize that the night will shortly come to an end. I must feed soon or I will lose an entire night's chance. Ah, the chance has finally come, a young man has slipped from a door and is now walking the street towards me. As I watch him walk by and fall into step behind him, just as my sire did with me, I cannot help but think that the time has come to show this mortal the true meaning of fear....
![[home]](/Icons/Extras/lilhome.gif){kind=icon}
![[up]](/Icons/Extras/lilup.gif){kind=icon}