The Devil’s Vampire

Amos fell asleep with a heavy heart. He could feel the disappointment of everyone crushing him on all sides. He was a failure. They knew it; he knew it.

And he dreamed…

                                   Of dark beauty…

And deceptions…

                                                                  Of a blood hunter…

A vampire…

She was tall and slender, quick and graceful. Her ebony hair fell down her back in shimmering waves. Her eyes were large and dark and her skin was flawless ivory. She wore a black gown that clung to her. She was perfect.

She geld out a hand and he took it, mesmerized.

“I am Leila, Amos,” she said softly.

“Leila,” he repeated in a whisper as she stepped closer to him.

She smiled and revealed her fangs…

                                                    A vampire…

* * *

Amos woke screaming. He stared around the darkened room and lay back down on his pillows. He closed his eyes.
And he dreamed…

Of blood and screams…

And pain and death…

                                  Of darkness and flames…

And eternal light…

She stood there, still clasping his hand and smiling. She spoke.

I am you savior
I am your taskmaster
(Or mistress in this sense)
I am your hunter
I seek to steal
Your precious life
To suck the sweet blood from your body
I seek only to deliver you
To my master down below
But whether or not you get there
I may never know
But your blood is still mine
The sweetness of it upon my lips
I deliver you from torment
I dictate your life
I hunt your soul
So I might make it my master’s
Yes, you are his
For eternity.

Amos screamed, but couldn’t awaken, never again.

Leila bent her head and bit into his neck.

He felt his blood draining away, his heart slowing, his head growing light and fuzzy…

He fell and kept falling.

Where am I? Amos wondered in a fog.

He landed on a heated rock. And stared up at a dark beauty through eyes glazed with death.
Leila stood and wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Welcome, Amos, to Purgatory,” she hissed softly…

And turned into a snake…

She turned and slithered up to a black figure. Red eyes glowed from deep within.

“Excellent, Leila,” the figure said. The snake hissed and slithered up to what Amos guessed to be the shoulder.

“Who are you?” Amos said hoarsely.

“Death. The Devil. All those other pretty names.” Pause. “Take your pick.”

Amos took a deep breath.

And felt life…

                                             Fresh air…
Strength…

The sweet kiss of life…

New blood.
Existence.
Being.
Alive.

Amos stood.

He was alive. In Purgatory. How?

The snake hissed and slithered down to the heated rocks. It turned back into the dark beauty,

Leila.

“Fresh blood,” the dark figure said, almost a hiss to Leila.

Leila smiled savagely, showing her sharp, shiny fangs.

“Deliciousss,” she hissed.

She took a step forward…

                     An explosion of feathers…

                                                                                                           White, silky cloth…

Outstretched angel wings…

                                              So white…

Pristine…

                                                                 Untouched…

A virgin white…

Pure…

An angel heralding life.

“You may not have him.” A strong masculine voice. Commanding. But gentle. Like the wind. A breeze. But so firm and decisive…

“He iss mine,” Leila hissed furiously.

“No,” the angel said.

He turned and took Amos’s hand.

“Come. You do not belong down here.”

Amos grasped the angel’s hand tightly and was blinded by bright light.

Returning to life…

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