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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Vignettes of a Vampire


Tralla

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From the Author: To be honest, I don't really know precisely what a vignette is. I always took it to be a brief slice of life. A flash, if you will. So that is what I attempted to do.

To Valdar, I apologize to being so late to contribute to your brilliant project.

To Vlad, I apologize doubly for being so inexcusably late... And for any character blunders I may have created. If I learned anything doing this, it's that I better stick to my own characters...

 

 

 

 

The Vignettes

 

 

 

It is cold. But then, it is always cold. What else could it be, for me? The sun is my merciless, unconquerable nemesis, more eternal than I, a God among men, could ever be; fire, as well most people know, merely flickers across the surface of my person, and certainly fails to spark any lifelike glow beneath my inhuman pallor. That leaves the more... "modern" methods of heat, which merely causes the air to stifle and the few pale hints of vitality to flee even faster from my unaffected presence.

 

Ah, but I ramble... It is an annoying habit, although I've certainly earned the right in over three hundred years.

 

Yes, you heard me right. Three hundred.

 

Heard me.

 

Hm.

 

Who are you, anyway?

 

Not that it matters. You will listen. Of course you will listen. How could you deny *me*?

 

Come, step closer, and turn your gaze out this window here. Let us open it wide - it is cold, this night, colder even than I. The moon is not bright tonight, is it? A million stars as rivals... How... degrading. Is it the moon or the stars that glares down upon my sun-forsaken face? My clothes? My cross?

 

Yes, my cross. Charming little thing, yes? So many think it holds some great, untapped power. The power to repel the undead, even. Ah, but that priest was disappointed when I tore it from his throat. When I tore his throat.

 

Mm.

 

 

 

They are *so* irritating, asking me stupid questions about stupid things not even the most stupid mortal would ever deign to read, much less believe. Almost worse are those pitiful humanity-hating humans, those deluded, unliving wretches who dare to call themselves blooddrinkers. Creatures of the night. I was bored one night and hunted them out, you know. I taught them what it was to drink blood, yesss...

 

Blood.

 

Mm.

 

Theirs was not so good, but you look to be healthier that they were.

 

But then, you never know where blood's been, these days. You almost have to start up your own blood bank to get a decent meal in some parts.

 

But I'm rambling again, aren't I? It is the curse of my curse; I am doomed to ramble, and those around me, as my son once did, are forced to listen. For who would be stupid enough to try to stifle a vampire? We are the only creatures who are truly able to evoke unquestioning respect among our peers, and our lessers.

 

Or fear. It is near enough to the same, don't you agree?

 

 

 

I heard a song once. Or a poem. Or whatever. Something about drawing lines with a razor. A picture, perhaps. Whatever. The details are inconsequential. All that matters is that I do so now, paint, that is, but with a knife instead of a razor. A very old knife, with a razor edge. Someone gave it to me... A father? A mother? I cannot remember, now. Another curse of the curse, I suppose. Even an unaging memory ages, it seems.

 

The image is so cliched these days, but the blade really does glint in the moonlight, or perhaps the starlight, just enough to see my work by; I am a horrible artist, even after so many years. I lean more towards the maths, myself. Statistics. Mm. Almost as good as blood.

 

As blood? Bah! What am I saying? I must be thirsty.

 

Yes, I am thirsty.

 

Come closer, you. Let us finish this... elsewhere.

 

There is much to speak of that is not for these ears.

 

Let us bid them... good night.

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This is excellent... *is slightly unsettled*

 

It is very chilling, but it is quite excellent as well. Some of my favorite aspects--

 

First, where he scorns his fellow vampires and "showed them what true blood-drinking was like". That was very well thought.

 

Second, the fact that he shatters superstition by having a cross around his neck, and how he tore it from the priest's neck. That was my favorite part, probably...

 

Chilling, but very good :D

 

Write more! Encore, encore!

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Nice work Tralla, somewhat unsettling, and it leaves me wondering who the poor human was that encountered this vampire. :)

 

I do like the bit about the priest and the cross, however... true faith is so hard to find these days, it seems.

 

I wonder what the vampire thinks about garlic- probably not a whole lot. *grins*

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Chillingly sinister as the others said, but also amusing in its twisted way.

 

Prime example of scary yet funny:

 

Yes, my cross. Charming little thing, yes? So many think it holds some great, untapped power. The power to repel the undead, even. Ah, but that priest was disappointed when I tore it from his throat. When I tore his throat.

The attitude from the vamp is totally casual. It's humorous.

 

I am a horrible artist, even after so many years. I lean more towards the maths, myself. Statistics.

This one is even more chilling but more absurd with the idea of a vamp leaning towards math. :D

 

yesss...

Here, he reminded me of Gollum. lol

 

You have to wonder what ahppens to the poor listener in the end.

 

I loved the perspective of this one and how it is the vamp rambling. And yes, I think this would count as a vignette. A very good one at that.

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