Nefarious: The Christmas Edition
Lucille Moncrief
Part 1: The Vampyre Talcott
The air was crisp and trees bare. The weather unusually cold and bitter for Savannah at Christmastime. I grinned to myself as the heels of my boots ground the cobblestone. I wonder if she is staying warm? My curiosity now piqued, my extremities shook slightly at the thought of her warm, safe in her bed, none the wiser to my less than gentle intentions. Delicious! I licked my lips in the frosty night air, a hint of salt in the wind. I could scarcely hear the ocean roar in the distance, like a barreling freight train, like my desire. But I mustn't distract myself, her protector could be near. Damn him! Always thwarting my plans, the humorless, melancholy git. Immune to my predation, it was I who was prey to him. A peculiar turn of events. Odd indeed, to be the hunted after nearly a century of being the hunter.
I began to feel vulnerable, my shaking from arousal turning to fear. Shivering, I wrapped my great coat about me in the glare of a street lamp, the merry wreath adorning it a mockery to my plight. Snarling, I ripped it and threw it to the ground. I viciously ground the sole of my boot into it, imagining his face. Feeling's gone! With newfound confidence and head determinably high, I went to darken her door.
Part 2: Elyse Delafayette
I was upstairs in my room wrapping the presents when I felt a coldness come over me. It swept in like a fog, the festive paper strewn about me an ironic juxtaposition to it. I dared not breathe. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall sounded like it was underwater, its tempo drowning in a funerary mist extinguishing the joy I'd felt moments earlier. Where was he? I panicked, a canary in a coal mine. I abruptly left the room, slamming the door in my haste and flew down the stairs. I rounded the corner of the first landing when I hit a wall and felt his arms embrace me.
"What's the hurry?"
"I'm just happy to see you." I didn't want to worry him, and I had no fear now.
"Are you hungry?" I asked, his fingers entwined in the ends of my hair. I loved it when he did that.
"I could eat." We headed downstairs and into the kitchen. It smelled like cinnamon. Mrs. Ewee was clattering away in front of the stove.
"Samuel! I didn't see you come in. The soup's almost done and I just finished brewing that new cinnamon tea Mr. Pembroke bought. Are you two interested?"