18th Century Vampires

Your voice comes out hoarse. She grins again, making your stomach turn.

Before you can react, she grabs your throat and deftly flings your entire weight at the bed across the room as if tossing a child's doll. You land on the bed coughing and gagging. Your damaged (but not destroyed) windpipe distracts you from your two broken ribs.

Suddenly, she's on top of you, holding your wrists to the bed. "There'll be no turnin' back now, love." She leans down and runs a 15 inch tongue from your chin over your left cheek to your hair line. Her breath smells of a rotting corpse and for the first time you notice her skin is as cold as polished steel.

She tears your shirt open in one motion and throws it to the floor before clawing repeatedly at your bare chest like a wild wolverine with fingernails at least an inch longer than they had been two minutes ago. You scream, half from the pain, half for rescue, but your voice betrays you. You manage only a hoarse whisper and a quiet yelp.

She removes the rest of your clothing with her fingernails, taking significant slices of your skin with it.

She wraps her arms around you and plants her lips against yours, breaking one of your incisors. You flail. She responds only by tearing much of the skin off of your back.

You begin to notice through the unimaginable pain that you are now laying in a disturbingly large pool of your own blood.

You again try to summon your vocal cords for a final cry. Only a loud hiss escapes your lips.

Your vision starts to cloud and your head to swim. The last thing you witness before losing consciousness is your windpipe being bitten open by the girl, nay the creature still pinning you to the bed.


You awake.

You part your eyelids slightly to behold the bare wooden slats of the ceiling. It's very dark. You guess it's approximately two in the morning. But somehow, you can see perfectly.

You sit up and take an accounting of your surroundings. You begin to remember the night before. You're still in the same room where you found the girl. The room looks pristine. There is no sign of any blood or violence occurring here recently.

You look down at your own body expecting to see your abdomen laying open, revealing most of your internal organs. You're fully dressed exactly as you were before meeting the girl. You look behind you and find that you are laying on the same bed, but it is perfectly made.

You tear your own shirt open and find no sign of a wound or scar on your chest or belly.

You slide off the bed, stand, and notice a piece of paper on the large wooden chest at the foot of the bed.

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