The origins of this story are a little bass-akward. I had the idea for this story awhile back. When I actually sat down to write it, it became something similar, yet quite different as I slid it into the world I had built. It was beautiful, but much longer, more detailed, as the characters gained names and personalities. It lacked this ending, which I so adore. It also might never see the light of day, since it became part of one of my many projects. So, for this week’s Flash Fiction I wrote this story way I originally envisioned. Enjoy.
© 2008 Suzanne Lazear
The moon was full and the night was warm. A light breeze whipped around me, teasing my unbound black hair. Waves, grey-blue in the moon light, sung to me in haunted whispers as I sat down in the moist sand on the quite beach.
It had been a year.
Taking the top off the bottle of Glenfiddich, I took a long swig of amber liquid, savoring the sensation as it slid down my throat. She loved thirty-year-old Scotch. I preferred a good red wine. Tonight I drank to her memory.
It had been a year.
A year since we sat on the on the sand, whisky in hand talking, and looking at the moon in front of her little beach house.
It had been a long year.
Memories of that last night together still haunted my dreams. Sometimes I awoke thinking her pale arms were still wrapped around me. This I admitted to no one. It would be weakness in the Vampire world.
My world. A dangerous world. A world where she was no longer here to love me unconditionally, as only she could.
Deep inside I knew when she asked me to take her home, to her little beach house, that it would be our last night together, even though she made everyone agree that we’d meet for dinner the next night. To celebrate.
But when we met the next night it would not be to celebrate her finally breaking the curse. It would be for a wake.
Still, when I woke with the sunset to find that somewhere during the night she had breathed her last breath, curled in my arms, it was difficult to believe.
After all, we planned everything out. We pledged our love to each other, our lives to each other.
Her death hurt more than a stake in the heart, more than meeting the morning light.
Breaking the curse was supposed to be the start. Who would have thought her crafty, long dead stepmother would have woven into the curse a spell that would cause her to die upon breaking it?
Reaching into my pocket I pulled out the golden medallion I had given her long ago. It had been her favorite.
“Why did you have to leave me again?” The night was quiet except for the music of the night and my voice carried across the empty expanse of sandy beach.
I took another swig, wishing it would dull the pain. It should not hurt so much. After all, I was Vampire.
Now I regretted my part in breaking the curse. Fingers curled around the medallion so tightly it cut into my palm. I wanted her to know what it was like to be free of the curse before I asked her to be my mate, to stand by my side, to stay with me for the rest of our centuries.
It was uncommon enough among Vampires, but for a Vampire to take up with a non-Vampire, even another Immortal, in such a manner…
The breeze brought me a scent that should not be there, interrupting my rumination.
In the moonlight the intruder walking down the beach looked like a marble goddess from the ruins of Ancient Rome. I had not been there, we met in the latter part of the 17th century, but she had.
The apparition’s hair was billow of platinum. Bare feet left footprints in the damp sand. All she was wearing was a satiny purple nighty, the same color as her intense eyes. Pale lavender wings stretched out behind her in a splendor few had ever seen.
If I still had a heart, it would have skipped a beat. Holding up the bottle I confirmed that I hadn’t drunk that much. Not enough to be seeing apparitions.
The apparition made me miss her all the more; mourning the centuries we had not spent together...
Yes, that was it...
She was just an apparition caused by the mist, the salt, and the full moon.
Closer she drew until I had to stand up, angry at being disturbed. This was my private sorrow. It was not to be shared, even with apparitions. Already I mourned her more than a Vampire should.
Finally the apparition looked at me with violet eyes luminescent in the moonlight. The sculpted face was more beautiful, more radiant, than I remembered.
Part of me wanted to yell for her to go away, to leave me in peace so I could learn to live without her.
Part of me wanted to run into her arms.
“Mo chridhe.” Now she stood in front of me. It was her face, her voice, her body, her language.
What have I done to deserve this? Reaching out, I wanted to touch her, but I hesitated. “Cara?”
That’s what she was to me. I to her.
“I missed you mo chridhe.” She was just an apparition, a figment of my imagination and sorrow. After all, it had been a year.
But I missed her.
Reaching out I touched this figment. It feels real. For a long moment all I did was touch her. I stroked her face, her unbound hair, those pale purple wings. She was real.
“I miss you so much cara.” A year should be nothing in the life of an Immortal, but I swear it was the longest year in all my centuries. “What are you doing here?” Even someone as uncommon as her couldn’t come back from the dead. Could she?
She put a finger to her lips. With a coy smile, she drew me close. Her familiar scent wrapped around me like a blanket.
Then she kissed me.
I kissed her back.
Quickly I stripped off her nighty and my own clothes. Lowering her down on the sand I reacquainted myself with her body, with her. I have her back. Happiness filled me.
“Don’t leave me ever again cara.”
So engrossed was I in her, that when the rays of the dawn hit my exposed body, I never felt the pain.
It didn’t matter. We were together once again.