Category : Stories

Sub Category : Horror

Some writing I did for the blog to make up for inactivity

Golden liquid dripped down from his dry lips as a drunken chuckle escaped from himself. He stood up from he sat at the 

end up the dining room table before stumbling through the room with a wine glass in his hand. Chairs were aligned perfectly

with a lady sitting in each one. They were still and silent while decay was evident on their whithering bodies. Demidicus

held up his glass and stood straight up with his left arm behind his back and raising up his glass high into the air before

slurring “Cheers!”

He gave a glance to his glass before furrowing his brows and smashing it into a corpses head before himself. Its head 

rurptured open with a horrid stench filling the room. Rancid black liquids oozed out, seeping onto the table and floor

below. Demidicus tossed the base of the glass behind himself. “Why won’t you do anything!” 

There was no response but silence as it created unease. They all stared at Demidicus with their blank, empty expressions. 

Demidicus backed into the wall while digging his nails into the wood. In his imagination the corpses were alive. They manically

laughed at him while pointing their fingers. Accusing, brandishing him as a monster. He had already accepted that notion

personally but it was to much. He grabbed the corpse infront of him and shook it violently. 

“Why are you looking at me like this? Answer me!” 

Demidicus whined out. A silk hankerchief was used as it smeared bloody tears across his white skin. Each of the corpses’s

necks had blood caked onto them. The copper scent had mixed with the putrid smell of decay and caused Demidicus to cringe

in his delusional state. Demidicus took one of the ladies and tossed it carelessly to the floor before sitting in its place.

He held his head before muttering out: “Why?” 

Demidicus sobbed out: “What did I do to deserve a horrible fate such as this?” 

All he ever saw was red, red was his food and drink. Red was his life and it made him recoil in disgust. Everything was 

perfect about himself with not a single flaw. This caused Demidicus to grow angry. Just even one flaw would subdue to 

show that was still a man inside instead of a plastic doll. For once he wanted his victims to recoil in disgust instead 

of swooning like love sick doves over himself. Demidicus wanted to be human once again but the same question always asked 

whenever his thoughts turned to buried desires.

‘How would you gain your meal and live such an easy life?’

That very question invaded his mind like the swarming of rats in a house that was beyond saving from their infestion. In

his own world it was appearance that mattered the most. It was appearance that brought him his meals every single night. 

Women who surrounded himself, and his fledglings whom thought of him as their angel. This was the possibility of the cause 

of Demidicus’s vain and arrogance towards others. With a sudden revelation he came upon the realization that without his

outer beauty he was nothing but a porcelain doll that others loved to play with and use until it turned on them. 

Even thou he wasn’t alive anymore, his own heart would have been clenching in pain at these thoughts. The chair creaked as

Demidicus stood up from it. His hands laced together before giving a bow towards the corpses. His silky curls toppled down

while his face was a mess of smeared blood and make up. The vampire left as the door closed behind him and sent a shudder 

throught the hallway. He locked the door. 

“Jusqu'à la prochaine fois, mon petit poussin.”