Story: Vampire

okay, i'm feeling better now
i'll leave that poem...just cuz...
but i'll post part of my vampire story now! sheesh, it's taken me a while to get one of my not-as-short stories posted...
so anyway, i'll post it in, blocks or something. and when i write more, i'll post more
and any advice, or constructive criticism, or what not, would be quite welcome
not that anyone even reads my blog....but whatever
so, here goes...the story

The vampire stood at the window, watching the second sunset. The sun streaked the sky red as it neared the horizon. The younger sun only stayed up for a few hours each day, but those hours were the worst for the people; the heat of the sun forced most everyone indoors. But once the young sun set, its heat fled quickly from the land, forcing the people indoors again for warmth.

The aged sun would not burn the vampire as the young sun did. The weak sunlight could cause the vampire no damage, giving him free reign. He did not mind the cold; in fact, he preferred it.

Beren Anwamanë was young, or at least appeared so; in fact, he had lived two hundred years in the wasted castle he called home, and not even he remembered how long before then. He preyed on the peasants, of which there were plenty, and no one noticed if a peasant disappeared.

Turning from the window, Beren stepped to the middle of the broad room where a table stood. A massive portrait loomed over the table, portraying an intimidating man, whose glare fell on anyone in the room. Across from the first portrait hung a smaller painting, showing a beautiful woman.

“Father…Mother…” Beren said, nodding to each portrait in turn. He stepped to the table. On it rested a slim book. Beren picked it up and opened it to a ribbon marking a page. Sitting at the table, he took up a quill and, dipping it into an ink well, wrote the date on the top of the page in neat, printed letters.

Lovely sunset. The sky was blood red. I will go for a walk, but I am not hungry. No sense wasting good blood if I don’t need it.

Closing the book, he stood and stepped to the window again. The sky had not changed. He watched it for a moment, and then jumped out the window, landing agilely 50 feet below.

A pine forest bordered the castle. Beren, when not questing for food, liked to walk there. He had explored almost the entire forest since living at that castle. Strange creatures ranged that forest, which, on occasion, would come out from the depths of the dark forest and prey on the flocks of hearty sheep and goats that were raised by the people there.

Beren entered the forest, following an unseen path. He listened for the sounds of the forest, recognizing the animals as each called out. Traveling deeper, he soon felt the freedom that always came on him. He could stay in that forest for as long as he liked without being discovered. Very soon the trees grew so close together that they obscured the sky. He breathed in the cold air, feeling exhilarated.

He stepped into an open glade. Seeing the sky darkening, he tuned his ears to the nocturnal animals.

He heard nothing.

No animals were calling. Even the breeze was not rustling the branches. This was strange. The forest was never silent. If the animals were silent, they usually had a reason, but even then the wind would not be silenced. Beren stood still, trying to sense what could silence both the animals and the winds.

Suddenly a great rushing sound came to his ears, and before he had a chance to think, a wall of air hit him and knocked him over. Great winds tore at his clothes and skin. He tried to scream, but the wind tore the sound from his mouth. He was pushed into a tree, where he curled up, trying to protect himself from the insane tempest. But, just as suddenly, the winds stopped.

Beren waited for a moment, then rolled onto his side and pushed himself off the ground. He looked around the glade, to see the damage suffered. But what he saw surprised him more than any windstorm would.

It was a different glade. He stood in confusion for a moment before determining that he had no idea where he was.

The sky was just as dark, but Beren’s sharp eyes could still examine his surroundings. This glade was bigger, and perfectly circular. The surrounding trees were not pine, but aspen, and the ground was patched with white flowers. A large flat rock sat in the center of the glade, and on the rock sat a woman.

The woman, sitting tranquilly, wore a light blue unadorned dress. Her wavy black hair hung down her back and pooled around her. Her head was bowed slightly, and resting in her hands was a small harp. She was poised to play.

Beren stepped forward slowly. He had moved a small distance into the glade when the woman began to play. Beren paused, listening to music; he loved music of all sorts.

After the first note, Beren was captured by the sound. A slow, haunting melody came from the harp, drawing Beren in. His eyes were locked on the woman, whose delicate fingers plucked the harp strings with ease.

Small sparks pricked every time a note was played. Beren tried to think about this, but his mind became foggy, and he could not make his thoughts clear. Soon the sparks grew to small flames, licking at the edges of the rock. Beren stood closer to the rock, though he knew not how. He could think of nothing else except the woman and the melody. His mind was overtaken by the song. The tempo slowly increased. The flames were dancing higher, surrounding the woman on the rock.

The flames now surrounded the rock, but the woman did not burn. The flames began to spread slowly out from the rock. The song filled Beren’s mind. He heard nothing else. He saw the flames reach him and slowly surround him, but it didn’t register with his mind. He felt the flames licking at his skin, but he felt no pain. He felt nothing except the song.

The woman kept playing, her fingers flying over the harp strings now. Beren had stopped breathing, and though he did not need to breathe, he was beginning to feel faint. He swayed on his feet, unable to tear his mind from the song. The flames rushed before his eyes, confusing his mind. His eyes rolled up into his head, and he fell to the ground, surrounded by silent flames.