Tristan & Victoria
Victoria looked down at the crumpled note in her hand and back up and the foreboding building in front of her. The derelict warehouse stood ominously in front of her, black grimy bricks glistened slightly in the rain and the broken windows looked like sharp teeth in the moonlight. From a distance the entire place seemed dead but from where Victoria was standing she could here the dull roar of a crowd in the basement. The gathering where the note said it would be. Where Tristan would be; Tristan the vampire.
Victoria couldn’t be more uncertain as to why she was here. The note said to go down to the basement, apparently his name should be enough to get in and Tristan himself would be in there already. She’d probably been watching too much Buffy but she couldn’t help reassuring herself that Tristan was a good person hence so must be his... friends.
She jumped as a man suddenly opened the door in front of her; he was stocky and had greasy black hair which lay half-heartedly on his head. Dark hungry eyes peered at her through the rain before he grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly into the dim hallway.
“You must be Tristan’s,” he said with a strange smile and pushed her towards a staircase heading down into the basement, at the bottom was a non-descript door which she slowly walked through into the basement itself.
There were around sixty people in the shadowy room, mainly men but a few women too, gathered around the edges as if waiting for some kind of performance; the excited banter stopped as soon as Victoria stepped through the door. The black suited man who had brought her in stepped around her and greeted the nearest man, a scrawny nervous-looking lad.
“Good evening, Roman.” He gestured towards Victoria, “Tristan’s?” Roman, the vampire ‘leader’, nodded. Victoria nearly spoke up; “I’m not Tristan’s, I’m here of my own free will” but she has a strange feeling that wasn’t true. A walkie-talkie appeared in Roman’s hand and he spoke a brief inaudible instruction into it before pushing Victoria to the side, slightly away from the nearest of the crowd. At the far back of the room a door opened and two tall men... monsters... dragged in the bloody and beaten body of...
“TRISTAN!!” Victoria screamed and went to run towards him but two vampires appeared out of nowhere and restrained her, her usual strong wills disappearing. Roman stalked casually up to her; he was close enough so that she could feel his hot breath on her neck.
“Don’t worry; he’s still alive... well, in our own special kind of way. But he needed to be punished because he brought you here. An un-blooded one... in our domain, did he really think you would want to be one of us? No-one is this way out of choice... and yet you came. Maybe in a sick, twisted way you want this...” He scraped a strangely sharp nail down her neck making her quietly shudder. In an instant he thrust out an arm and seized the nervous lad’s neck bringing him closer, using the same nail he gouged a deep cut into the side of his neck and let the blood spray onto his hand. Raising his hand above her face Victoria couldn’t help but following it with her eyes, he flexed his fingers and the blood dripped onto her cheek. She recoiled in horror as he hissed into her ear, “like delicious teardrops...” The creatures behind her released her arms but Roman grasped at the back of her neck, holding her tight. He clicked his fingers at his bloodied assistant and the young man scurried off, seconds later he returned with a beautiful cut wineglass filled, glistening to the brim with...
Victoria gasped and squirmed in Roman’s grip but couldn’t move, Roman dipped a long finger into the glass of blood, stared at it for a moment before slowly running it along Victoria’s bottom lip leaving a shimmering trail of blood that traced down her chin and onto her neck. She was frozen to the spot, her eyes locked with Roman’s.
“No, Roman!! Stop it! You’ve gone too far! I’ve learnt my lesson!” screamed Tristan from the other side of the room. Roman cocked his head slightly and silently mouthed “no” before taking the glass and tilting it over Victoria’s mouth. She squirmed again in his grasp but his hand moved and grabbed her chin, shaking his head teasingly. The glass tipped and the thick crimson liquid rolled out of the glass and straight between her lips and sliced down into her throat.
Victoria couldn’t be more uncertain as to why she was here. The note said to go down to the basement, apparently his name should be enough to get in and Tristan himself would be in there already. She’d probably been watching too much Buffy but she couldn’t help reassuring herself that Tristan was a good person hence so must be his... friends.
She jumped as a man suddenly opened the door in front of her; he was stocky and had greasy black hair which lay half-heartedly on his head. Dark hungry eyes peered at her through the rain before he grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly into the dim hallway.
“You must be Tristan’s,” he said with a strange smile and pushed her towards a staircase heading down into the basement, at the bottom was a non-descript door which she slowly walked through into the basement itself.
There were around sixty people in the shadowy room, mainly men but a few women too, gathered around the edges as if waiting for some kind of performance; the excited banter stopped as soon as Victoria stepped through the door. The black suited man who had brought her in stepped around her and greeted the nearest man, a scrawny nervous-looking lad.
“Good evening, Roman.” He gestured towards Victoria, “Tristan’s?” Roman, the vampire ‘leader’, nodded. Victoria nearly spoke up; “I’m not Tristan’s, I’m here of my own free will” but she has a strange feeling that wasn’t true. A walkie-talkie appeared in Roman’s hand and he spoke a brief inaudible instruction into it before pushing Victoria to the side, slightly away from the nearest of the crowd. At the far back of the room a door opened and two tall men... monsters... dragged in the bloody and beaten body of...
“TRISTAN!!” Victoria screamed and went to run towards him but two vampires appeared out of nowhere and restrained her, her usual strong wills disappearing. Roman stalked casually up to her; he was close enough so that she could feel his hot breath on her neck.
“Don’t worry; he’s still alive... well, in our own special kind of way. But he needed to be punished because he brought you here. An un-blooded one... in our domain, did he really think you would want to be one of us? No-one is this way out of choice... and yet you came. Maybe in a sick, twisted way you want this...” He scraped a strangely sharp nail down her neck making her quietly shudder. In an instant he thrust out an arm and seized the nervous lad’s neck bringing him closer, using the same nail he gouged a deep cut into the side of his neck and let the blood spray onto his hand. Raising his hand above her face Victoria couldn’t help but following it with her eyes, he flexed his fingers and the blood dripped onto her cheek. She recoiled in horror as he hissed into her ear, “like delicious teardrops...” The creatures behind her released her arms but Roman grasped at the back of her neck, holding her tight. He clicked his fingers at his bloodied assistant and the young man scurried off, seconds later he returned with a beautiful cut wineglass filled, glistening to the brim with...
Victoria gasped and squirmed in Roman’s grip but couldn’t move, Roman dipped a long finger into the glass of blood, stared at it for a moment before slowly running it along Victoria’s bottom lip leaving a shimmering trail of blood that traced down her chin and onto her neck. She was frozen to the spot, her eyes locked with Roman’s.
“No, Roman!! Stop it! You’ve gone too far! I’ve learnt my lesson!” screamed Tristan from the other side of the room. Roman cocked his head slightly and silently mouthed “no” before taking the glass and tilting it over Victoria’s mouth. She squirmed again in his grasp but his hand moved and grabbed her chin, shaking his head teasingly. The glass tipped and the thick crimson liquid rolled out of the glass and straight between her lips and sliced down into her throat.
Sunday, February 01, 2009
An extract from a story called 27 Days which was written for my AS production of texts coursework. Read the rest of it here at FictionPress. top