Post by Katastrophe on Apr 7, 2008 18:09:52 GMT -5
Part 1:
Some eerie, deep-seeded inner torment drew Kathryn Rose Chaumette-Vinson out to her lush well-tended rose garden that night. She often enjoyed going there late in the evenings after tucking her 3-year-old son into bed. It didn’t matter that she usually couldn’t see the roses well in the darkness. The smell of them and the sounds of night around her were enough to enjoy.
That particular night, the moon was full with a lunar halo, an ice ring encircling it. She had heard the superstitions involving this sight with the bringing of bad luck, but she was not a superstitious woman. Instead, she stood there in the cool December night looking up at the glowing orb, admiring its warm cool glow. It was so luminous that she could see shadows from various objects in her garden; trees, garden statuary, shrubs, the shadows seemed to dance in the light breeze.
Decembers in central Texas were typically mild, so it was easy enough for her to be outside in a simple gray sweater, jeans, and black boots that made her about three inches taller than her usual 5’2” stature. She hugged her arms to herself as she stood there.
Moments later, she heard a loud raucous coming from inside her home. Being uncharacteristic at this late hour, she made her way through the courtyard and into her home. The interior was vast and well lit. She saw nothing out of place at first. Sounds of something crashing and screaming immediately sent her sailing for the stairs, her heart pounding in her chest.
Kathryn knew something was very wrong.
Arriving at the top of the stairs, she paused, waiting to see what else she might hear. One final, faint noise came from her bedroom. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her down the long hall and to the last room. She came to a dead stop at what she saw, her jaw falling, her knees giving out as she fell to the floor.
Her husband and son had been murdered.
It appeared that her husband had been murdered first, and then her son had walked in on it. For whatever reason, that seemed to trouble her even more, that he had been frightened in the final moments of his short life. She crawled over to their lifeless bodies. There was blood on the floor, and the entire room was in utter disarray. She pulled their bloodied bodies into her arms. Feeling that they seemed to weigh less than normal, that was when she noticed the puncture wounds at their necks. It looked like… but it couldn’t be… vampires? She didn’t believe in such mythical creatures. She gingerly touched the wound on her son’s neck. Something had clearly bit him, something large, predatory, and deadly.
She gave little thought to the fact that she, herself, could be in danger, until she heard a noise behind her. Kathryn had just enough time to turn at the sound before she was thrown violently backwards. It appeared to be a man, but not a man.
A vampire.
She did her best to struggle against the much stronger, much larger form, until at last; he gained hold of her neck. She continued to fight against him, and as his hand came up towards her face, she bit him. Hard. She felt the sickly sweet taste of his blood in her mouth, but she didn’t let up. He had murdered her family, and she wasn’t going to let him get away with it. Her human teeth were clearly no match for his, but she knew that if she pulled and tugged at him with her mouth, that she could do some real damage. As his blood trickled down her throat, she forced back gags and kept tearing into his flesh. As Kathryn continued to feel him at her neck, she felt herself growing faint, tired. She reluctantly released her savage hold on him as the room around her became a hazy blur. The last thing she saw was the face of the nameless vampire, as she heard him say to her, “I’m so terribly sorry.”
Some eerie, deep-seeded inner torment drew Kathryn Rose Chaumette-Vinson out to her lush well-tended rose garden that night. She often enjoyed going there late in the evenings after tucking her 3-year-old son into bed. It didn’t matter that she usually couldn’t see the roses well in the darkness. The smell of them and the sounds of night around her were enough to enjoy.
That particular night, the moon was full with a lunar halo, an ice ring encircling it. She had heard the superstitions involving this sight with the bringing of bad luck, but she was not a superstitious woman. Instead, she stood there in the cool December night looking up at the glowing orb, admiring its warm cool glow. It was so luminous that she could see shadows from various objects in her garden; trees, garden statuary, shrubs, the shadows seemed to dance in the light breeze.
Decembers in central Texas were typically mild, so it was easy enough for her to be outside in a simple gray sweater, jeans, and black boots that made her about three inches taller than her usual 5’2” stature. She hugged her arms to herself as she stood there.
Moments later, she heard a loud raucous coming from inside her home. Being uncharacteristic at this late hour, she made her way through the courtyard and into her home. The interior was vast and well lit. She saw nothing out of place at first. Sounds of something crashing and screaming immediately sent her sailing for the stairs, her heart pounding in her chest.
Kathryn knew something was very wrong.
Arriving at the top of the stairs, she paused, waiting to see what else she might hear. One final, faint noise came from her bedroom. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her down the long hall and to the last room. She came to a dead stop at what she saw, her jaw falling, her knees giving out as she fell to the floor.
Her husband and son had been murdered.
It appeared that her husband had been murdered first, and then her son had walked in on it. For whatever reason, that seemed to trouble her even more, that he had been frightened in the final moments of his short life. She crawled over to their lifeless bodies. There was blood on the floor, and the entire room was in utter disarray. She pulled their bloodied bodies into her arms. Feeling that they seemed to weigh less than normal, that was when she noticed the puncture wounds at their necks. It looked like… but it couldn’t be… vampires? She didn’t believe in such mythical creatures. She gingerly touched the wound on her son’s neck. Something had clearly bit him, something large, predatory, and deadly.
She gave little thought to the fact that she, herself, could be in danger, until she heard a noise behind her. Kathryn had just enough time to turn at the sound before she was thrown violently backwards. It appeared to be a man, but not a man.
A vampire.
She did her best to struggle against the much stronger, much larger form, until at last; he gained hold of her neck. She continued to fight against him, and as his hand came up towards her face, she bit him. Hard. She felt the sickly sweet taste of his blood in her mouth, but she didn’t let up. He had murdered her family, and she wasn’t going to let him get away with it. Her human teeth were clearly no match for his, but she knew that if she pulled and tugged at him with her mouth, that she could do some real damage. As his blood trickled down her throat, she forced back gags and kept tearing into his flesh. As Kathryn continued to feel him at her neck, she felt herself growing faint, tired. She reluctantly released her savage hold on him as the room around her became a hazy blur. The last thing she saw was the face of the nameless vampire, as she heard him say to her, “I’m so terribly sorry.”