The Count At Midnight
The Count was a lonely man. For decades he had lived alone, a recluse in his castle. There were stories about him in the town, rumours that bored housewives had created to explain his peculiarities. Some were so farfetched even he had to laugh, others were so close to the truth it concerned him. Still, he remained in his manor only leaving at night.
The only thing the townspeople knew about him was how much he enjoyed hunting. The bizarre thing was that he only hunted at midnight. He claimed that it was because it was more thrilling. If only they knew how truthful that answer was. Somehow, people always went missing after his midnight hunt but the townsfolk never really took notice. Or put two and two together. The people that went missing were always lowlifes. Drunks, thieves, men who did not know how to treat a lady. The kind of people that no one missed.
As he walked down the street one night, so silently that even the stray cats didn’t bother running away, he heard a dreadful scream. It was a lady and she was screaming for someone to help her. In no more than a second he appeared right next to her. The men surrounding her with bottles of booze in their hands stepped back in surprise.
“Get out of here if you know what’s good for you,” one of the men warned him.
“I believe you are the ones that should leave, if you know what’s good for you,” he responded in a calm voice.
The men began to approach him but he remained perfectly still. Almost in anticipation. Then he suddenly turned and told the cowering lady behind him to close her eyes. She stared at him in surprise.
“Just do it,” he told her, more forcefully. She nodded and closed her eyes. He couldn’t help but admire her beauty. Her lips were red like blood, her skin was silky and smooth and her curly hair fell over her shoulders perfectly. But this was not the right time to admire her, he remembered.
In a matter of seconds, the men lay on the floor screaming in pain. And he knelt over their bodies, his fangs in their necks. One after the other he drained them and quickly disposed of their bodies. Once he was done, his attention was again on the beautiful woman crouching on the floor with her eyes tightly shut and her hands over her ears. He could tell that she was shaking a little.
“Are you okay?” he asked her. But she didn’t hear him on account of her hands being over her ears. He knelt down beside her and touched her wrist lightly, hoping to get her attention. She gasped at how cold his hands were. She looked around in confusion.
“I… I know what you are,” she whispered.
“What am I?” he asked, quietly.
“You don’t come out during the day, you’re faster than any human, you never age, your skin is cold to the touch…”
“What am I, my dear?” he asked once more.
“You… you’re one of the night creatures.”
“We prefer vampires,” he chuckled.
“You don’t seem particularly scared of me,” he observed.
“Why would I be? You just saved my life,” she explained.
“Yes, but this is the part where most women run away screaming,” he told her.
“I’m not most women and I have had enough experiences to know that humans are the real monsters,” she said with a deep sadness in her eyes.
“How did you end up in this situation, a beautiful lady like you in an alley like this doesn’t seem correct,” he asked.
“My father lost a bet and that meant those men won me,” she whispered. Tears began to fall from her eyes.
“You’re safe now and if you’ll let me I’ll take care of you” he promised her.
They stared into each other’s eyes and as she blinked she found herself on a soft bed in his mansion. For the next few weeks they spent every waking moment together. Except when he had to go on his “hunting” trips. That was about once a week and even though it only took a few hours, she missed him dearly. Her bed felt empty without him holding her in his arms. Eventually, she plucked up the courage to ask him what she had wanted to from the day they met.
“I want you turn me,” she told him.
“What?” he asked surprised.
“Please, make me one of you,” she begged.
“I couldn’t do that to you, you deserve a normal life. You don’t deserve to be damned like me,” he told her.
“I was damned long before I met you, I’ve lived in hell my whole life,” she explained.
Eventually she was able to convince him. Although reluctantly, he agreed. Deep down, he knew he could not live without her and humans have such pathetically short lives. He couldn’t lose her in just a few decades.
He began to kiss her neck. She flinched as the kisses turned into little bites. Her body began to twitch as the transformation began. She stayed with her all night till it was complete. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. He was standing by her side as she lay on the bed. She got up and he held her tight. As the candles burned in the background and the clock struck midnight she realised she was hungry. In fact, she was starving. All she could think of was the burning in her throat.
“You need to feed,” the Count observed.
She nodded and off they went. Two vigilantes in the night, keeping one another company for all eternity.
About “The Count At Midnight”:
This image is once more from Kevin’s NTT post. Shoutout to him for always creating cool images and starting this awesome challenge. Do check out his blog!
This story is inspired by Twilight. The best awful vampire book to exist. At least in my opinion. I find the part in the movie where Bella tells Edward she knows he’s a vampire really funny and stupid so I wanted to add that to the story lol.
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed “The Count At Midnight”. It’s just a silly little story but it was so much fun to write. A bit different from my usual. No major shocking twists in this one.
You know I love your feedback on my posts so do let me know what you thought of “The Count At Midnight” in the comments below. Or simply stop by and say hi!
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