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The Dark Kiss

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A new entry for the 4th of July. A very old piece I dug up from paroosing the old archives of my computer. This was my very first try at vampire fiction. I actually wrote it for a character background for roleplaying the Masquerade, but I tried to keep it unaffiliated with any copyright stuff. I realize it's corny and it goes too fast, but I'm still in love with the prose, especially near the end of it. **is prepared to be knit-picked apart** I was planning to write more on this one day concerning the future of Nelina after 'that night'. We'll see though.

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See my face in the darkness.

Masked in tears shining bright.

See my face through the darkness

Your peircing eyes the only light.”

I looked up as I sang. He was still staring at me. The only one that dared to look me in the face. Every other guy in the little night club never looked at me as a stood up there baring my soul on stage. He was a handsome fellow, always there when I sang, watching me intently from the corner with those dark eyes of his. He had raven hair that fell around those eyes, a sharp featured face that echoed the same Old World flavor as mine did. He had olive skin, much like mine. I often wondered what lay behind those eyes. Was there some secret or guilt? I longed to rip the secret from him so I’d know...

Why did he look at me so? Was it infatuation? Or was it simply that he liked my singing?

The song ended and he still watched me. The music faded to a soft melody as I prepared to step off stage. I bowed my head and smiled. A smile meant for him. I walked over and sat down at his table. He stared on silently, almost shocked that I had just sat down before him.

“Well, are you just going to stare at me all night or say hello?” I said to him, not knowing how to begin. He had watched me for days, never speaking, never approaching. Finally he responded with an almost boyish, “Hello.” I smiled at him again.

“My name is Nelina, Nelina Baptista. Do you have a name, silent watcher?”

He hesitated, still silent, “Izual.” He finally spoke.

“Izual, huh?” I looked at him, one eyebrow upraised, “Never met a guy named Izual before. Interesting.”

I moved to place my hand over his...but he drew back, trying to cover the movement casually. My fingers braised his skin. He was so cold, so deathly cold. He spoke.

“It’s an angel’s name.”

I laughed at him, “Is that how you catch all the girls?” I looked up into his olive face and then back towards the stage. Angelina, the night manager, was cleaning up. “Hey, you better go, Angelina’s about to close up for the night. Same time, same place tomorrow night, Mr. Peeping Angel?”

As before, he stared at me silently with that lost expression. I winked at him and waved goodbye, going backstage to clean up my things. When I looked back out again, he was gone, my Beautiful Stranger. I left the bar, taking a look at my watch. Nearly 3 am. The Madonna song rang through my head as I smiled to myself and sang about my Beautiful Stranger. I always loved to walk home from the club. At this hour in time, between night and dawn, I found it so peaceful, everything was serene. There was no soul to break up the harmony, or hardly any police sirens to interrupt. It was like I was back at my Grandmother’s house again, in Romania. The Old country. The pure quietness and the magic that America didn’t have.

“Haven’t we met. You’re some kind of beautiful stranger.

You could be good for me. If I’m smart I would run away.

I take my chance on a beautiful stranger. I looked into your eyes and my world came tumbling down.

You’re the devil in disguise..”

I stopped singing, there was something that made the back of my neck tingle, the hairs stand on end. I knew what it was. Someone was watching me. I cast a casual glance back and quickened my pace.

“You’re everywhere I go. And everybody knows. I paid for you with tears...”

Finally, I reached building 108. Home. I trudged up the stairs and breathed a sigh of relief to lock the door behind me. After doublelocking the apartment, it was two steps and crash into bed. Ah, another night in America. Another day of college.

* * *

It was the knocking at the door that woke me up the next morning. I begrudgingly opened my eyes and peered over at the clock. 4 am... it was only 4 am...only an hour since I had fallen asleep. I got up, cursing whoever it was that would bother me this early in the morning. I looked through the eyehole in the door. There was no one there. Scratching my frazzled hair, I opened the door and looked around. No one in the halls. My toe touched something soft and cold and I jumped back, startled. I rubbed my eyes and looked down to see what it was.

It was a rose, fully bloomed with petals red as blood. The delicate flower had a tiny golden chain attached to its stem. On the chain was a little golden angel charm. I smiled. “An angel name.” I picked up the fragile thing and held it a bit too hard, pricking my finger on one of the rosy thorns. Even something as small and delicate as a flower had its fangs.

The next night, he was there again. I sang a song especially for him.

And that's how things went. He watched me from just beyond the light. I felt I had finally found someone, someone different from everyone else. He talked to me more and more. We would talk for hours, always till just before the sun came up to ruin our vigil of the stars. He talked of the world, of places and people I had never heard of or seen before. Izual seemed to shine a light from the past that I found so magical and entrancing. Every tale he told me was a fairy tale I longed to be in, to experience myself. I yearned to see the world in all the glory he painted upon it.

One night I looked in the mirror to see him sleeping. But I saw someone else. Someone pale and cold. Something...twisted and inhuman. I turned and looked at him again...and there was nothing. There was my dark angel sleeping soundly. My grandmother always told me of those that came in the night. About monsters that stole children and took the form of your dreams. But I pushed those old superstitions away. My grandmother lived in a world of old fears and lies.

"My name.." He must have seen me turn, he spoke soothingly with his eyes still closed, "I was named for one of the seven angels that stood before God, one of the ten unholy sephirot. I was named for a fallen angel."

I walked over and kneeled by the bedside. I dangled the little angel charm in front of him and let it fall against his chest. The golden trinket cast sparkles into his black eyes. "You fell to me, angel."

The next night, I didn't see him in the corner looking at me. I shook on stage and my song shattered. I fled from the microphone and went backstage. My angel had flown from me. Hope rose again when I found another crimson rose on my counter. Written in the calligraphic style that could only be his were the words..

"Meet me at the vigil of the stars..."

I hurried to the abandoned building on 9th and 3rd street, the place where we always met. I flew up the stairs and rushed to the roof, hoping and praying to catch a glimpse of him. There the stars were looking down, and there he was standing loved by shadows, ever the watcher. He motioned to me and I flew to him, embracing him tightly.

"I thought you had left me." I was on the verge of tears. He looked down at me and wiped the tears away with gentle, cold fingers. He knelt and pulled me down with him to where we both sat on our knees.

"Close your eyes." He said tenderly. In his arms I felt no fear. I was warm and safe from the world.

I closed my eyes.

"You wish to see the world?"

I nodded, eyes still closed.

"Through my eyes?"

I turned around to face him. I brought my hands up and cradled his chin in my palms.

"Yes." I was never as sure of anything in my whole entire life. Darkness still held me as I sat in silence with my eyes closed, waiting for his response. I felt it as he slid away from me, the cool smoothness of his face escaping my hands.

And that's when my world came tumbling down.

I was wrentched back as something slammed into me. Strong arms embraced me tightly as an overwhelming throbbing filled my whole body. It was my heartbeat ringing loudly in my ears. For a few seconds I felt nothing. Still on my knees, it felt like falling...eternally falling into the stars. But that's when the pain came rushing through. Centered around my neck. I finally found the strength to open my eyes. The sense of sight made reality rush in upon me. Were these the same arms that held me safe and warm? Someone had stolen my angel and replaced him with a devil.

I barely managed a scream as he clamped down on me. The sharp pain in my neck split me in two. The sight of blood paralyzed me... Heightened pain into's so hard to tell the difference when you're dying. Is there a beautiful vision before you die? Do you get to see the angels singing when your soul passes? Yes and no.

I saw the beautiful crimson..just like the rose my angel gave spread like a river as I watched it trickle down my shoulder...from outside myself....... There are no songs, just the throbbing as your heart beats...slower..slower. Finally, when things began to fade..he let me go...He cradled me in his arms, layed me across his knees. I heard myself whisper...

"Please..stop...why?" I looked past his face, blinded by the light the stars cast. He caressed my cheek with his hand.

"It's too late.." He whispered into my ear. Izual bent down and kissed me one last time.

Slower....slower.......slower last dark kiss....

The stars fell into me...and I fell into the stars.

Never would I open my eyes to the same world again.

New eyes would open to a new world embraced by night...


Angelas (July 5th, 2002, 3:09 am)

Wow, afte re-reading it, it gets even more predictable and corny^_^ If you can't guess what Clan Izual was, he was Clan Nosferatu. They were my fave clan back in my Masq days. Walking enigmas with very underestimated abilities.

Hmm...I'm going to try an experiment now with html tags. If it works, you should be able to see what Nelina looks like!


Angelas (July 5th, 2002, 3:10 am)

GROOOOOOVYYYYYYYYYY!!!! doesn't this add a whole new layer to the onion! MRUAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAH!!!


cruise (July 5th, 2002, 11:00 am)

Predictable, yes, but nicely written, and atmospheric.


Eldritch (July 5th, 2002, 11:42 am)

Predictable, but good. BNlood, death and fake love... Good story :D


Semirrahge (July 5th, 2002, 1:39 pm)

Predictable, yes - but then, how easy is it to write a "new" story in a saturated and arguably limited genre? Having never read Anne Rice, I enjoyed the POV. I've never really thought of why a girl might fall in love with a vampire... Kudos.

I wish I had time to comment further, there's tons to say... But for now just suffice that I really like this story, and with some polishing it could REALLY shine.


Angelas (July 5th, 2002, 4:45 pm)

I had a two page restriction cuz my GM didn't like to read my long eccentric character background stories^_^ It was quite a challenge for me seeing as how I write very VERY long descriptions most times. I had a nice little sequel covering what happens to her next. With the Clan Nosferatu, it's not just "oo..I've woken up and I'm a pretty lil pale goth chick vampire now!" It's a month process where the victim's hair falls out, the muscles atrify, they throw up and urinate their unneeded innards, their features start to deform into hideous things (such as extra fingers, mouths,etc). It's an icky process and the Nos of the dark ages called it the Diseased Kiss ( story title needed?). Needless to say the next part would start to differ from the norm. That is if I can find the inspiration to continue it@_@ Se le amor.


Narainsbrain (July 6th, 2002, 4:32 am)

perhaps you didn't have to give it away right in the description =p

i liked it, it was really well written. i love how the emotion is developed, it made me want to keep reading even though i knew the ending. great stuff. the sequel sounds even more intriguing.

as for the drawing, it's cool, the shading is really well done. nice work. thought the hands look almost masculine, they could stand to be thinner.


Angelas (July 7th, 2002, 5:45 am)

LMAO yeah..her hands are frickin humongous!!!!!! I think this pic is a bit nicer, though just as old and crusty as the former.

**is a big Masquerade nerd** Uh..heheh, the little quote that's unreadable in my horrible calligraphying are the words in the Book of Nod from Nosferatu to his childer.

'Curse me for I know the true beauty within, and no greater beauty will there be.'

Izual looks funky, but this is aboooutt...........3 years old now^_^

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