Dreams of Crimson

By Victoria Lynn Churchill

not provided

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 23, 2012
• ISBN: 9781469136226

Victoria Lynn Churchill

not provided

Book preview

Special Thanks to

I would like to thank everyone who helped my dream become a reality. Thank you, each and every one of you for your support, time, and encouragement. Special thanks to Carrie Brady and Rosaline Kuiper, you two are amazing teachers! I would also like to thank my photographer Micole Dibble and my beautiful friend Alexandra Petovello for the lovely cover. Carol and Doug Rohrer for having the photo shoot in your home and lastly, my family and friends who have supported me throughout the years.

CRIMSON DREAM

A blank canvas

Thoughts trapped in the mind

Splashes of color

Left far behind

Imagination discolored and torn

Thoughts and ideas forgotten and reborn

Lines of black circle the walls

Bright lights of gray adorn the halls

A white canvas

Dripping a crimson dream

Welcome to the world of no creativity

Autumn leaves play in the wind

Enter a garden of inspiration

The flowers are wilting and turning black

Stealing away your thoughts and dreams

You can never get back

A blank canvas

Thoughts trapped in the mind

Splashes of color

Left far behind

Immortal love and bloodlust

Dripping a crimson dream

Enter a world of eternity…

Chapter One

Death: a word that many of us fear, a word many of us despise and like to pretend it can’t happen, a word some of us just deal with, and accept the fact nothing can last forever, a word too powerful to fully comprehend. Death is something we all must face one day. What do you imagine when you hear this dreary, dreadful word that changes so many lives every second of the day? Do you see a pendulum swing in the darkest of ashes? Or do you see a majestic garden with a golden street in a world of utopia? We have the choice to interpret death as we please, we can both accept it and see the beauty of passing over, or push it away into the darkest shadows of our minds. What about love? What do you imagine now? A box full of Caramel chocolates and a vase full of red roses? Or do you see two young teenagers staring at each other deeply with only one vision in their minds; to make their love last forever. Love and Death are very powerful. They are capable of changing lives in the blink of an eye. The real question is; can love exist in death?

A brisk wind blew against the immense wooden boardwalk. The sea salt waves crashed against the sandy shoreline. The sky was a collage of dark smoldering greys, the dull clouds moving east, towards home. My nose burned, the fumes from the salt eased their way up dancing around my nostrils. I felt as if I was wandering on a Japanese beach. The air was frigid with a hint of balminess. I began to walk the boardwalk, not knowing where I was going, but the adventure enthralled me sincerely. A girl appeared from underneath a vast bridge, walking towards me. Her skin a ghostly illuminant white, her hair a cascade of black and toffee colored accents loosely curled. Her shirt was hot pink zebra striped, and she wore a pink and black tutu, with bracelets ornamenting her wrists almost all the way up to her elbows. She wore light blue neon socks, black Mary Jane pumps, and a light blue hair bow. She carried a boom-box on her left shoulder as she walked up to me smiling.

Where is your friend? she arched her eyebrows inward, confused as to why I was alone. What friend? Who was she talking about? Before I could even consider who she was talking about the words spilled from my lips like silk falling to the floor.

He is dead I mumbled. She stared at me blankly, intrigued as she pulls out a blue crystal bracelet and wraps it around my wrist. Something about her was so familiar; her deep brown eyes sparkled in compassion. She smiled, her teeth a frosty white, her lips parted a soft pink. I could not figure it out. Where was this girl buried in the back of my thoughts?

Keep this with you, to be safe. I’ll find you again one day, I’m sorry about your loss, take care. She turns and runs away, dropping her boom-box onto the board-walk, smashing into several pieces, the pieces jumping all around into the shape of a heart. Strange, something felt weird.

Wait, who are you? Come back please I shout.

She turned around one last time, and smiled, bowing her head, and then continued to run. Suddenly my feet began to move and I am chasing her, full throttle like a race car. The girl turned under the bridge and with the blink of an eye, she was gone.

Hello? Where are you? my voice echoed against the dull cement walls. I was now alone, all alone. The most familiar memory was now gone, who had it been that passed away? Why Tokyo? Why the bracelet? The wind began to blow harder, the sky getting darker and darker, the waves crashing harder and harder against the vacant shore. She was gone.

I awoke in a pile of scattered sheets, and ruffled blankets just one of the many dreams that seemed to find a way into my mind. Strange, but I was used to this happening on a regular basis. The dreams never made any sense to me. They always seemed more than reality. Too real to be just a cloud of memories; swirling around creating a movie that plays over and over again. The smells, the taste, the feelings, It couldn’t be a dream. Something was not right, I grabbed my wrist by sudden instinct to find an object wrapped around. A tiny blue bracelet. My eyes widened the bracelet the girl gave me in my dream. Impossible; I swallowed, how could that have happened?

An uncontrollable hunger burned the back of my throat; it was so intense, I could not feel anything except the acidic torrid burning. The feeling, the thirst could not go on any longer tormenting the shadows of my mind. I was going to cave in, even if it killed me. I could no longer pretend I’m anything compared to normal, and I cannot avoid what I truly am, and that is a monster.

I walked out of my apartment, slowly shutting the door behind, Time for the monster to go out and play.

I walked nonchalantly down the dull city streets, peeking and lurking for tonight’s feast. I gulped; time to push the guilty thoughts away. Everyone always assumed we had no emotion, but oh how I beg to differ, I have nothing but emotions. Regret, guilt, and denial all run through my veins. It was a need right?

Moments later I came upon a dark alleyway, to witness an act of lust.

That will be forty dollars baby A woman rubbed a man’s chest playfully. Sure thing sweets, he pulled out a wallet and exchanged money for a sweet shameless kiss. I’m sure a lot more went on before I got here, so I’m glad I missed all the action. The man nodded, see you again soon Abigail he grinned.

You too Steve, Next time I expect double. Now go home to your family, it’s getting late She hugged him tightly while shoving the crisp money in her shirt. Great idea, Maria must be worried he looked down for a moment, see you next Tuesday he smirked.

Sounds like a plan bud she lightly punched his shoulder blade and began to walk away.

Wait, Abigail he shouted. She turned around briskly yeah Steve?

Want to go out for some coffee or can I treat you to some dinner? he rubbed his chin.

Steve… your just a client to me, I’m sorry Hun, but I have other errands to run tonight, thanks though. But please, just… go home to your wife she walked over to him, giving him one last hug.

Your right, I’m sorry… it’s just a cold night he attempted to smile, but was too crushed by the rejection.

Goodnight, see you next Tuesday she patted his shoulder, and turned away for the last time. The man got in a tiny black car and sped away, possibly humiliated for expecting more than the act he paid for, maybe guilty for double-dealing on his wife.

Abigail turned and began to walk down the alleyway in a hurry, perhaps going to find another client, or maybe she just wanted to escape the alley of sinful disgust to go home and stare at her pitiful white walls. You could tell by the way she swung her hips, she was indeed not the brightest crayon in the box, nor attractive. Abigail was about twenty one, her sugar daddy almost thirty-eight by the looks of it. Her hair was a pale dirty blonde, thick, curled and teased. She wore a pink ripped skirt, five inch stripper-like silver heels, and a cheetah print halter top, long silver chains around her neck. Two large peacock feathered earrings were laced through her ears. Her face pale, with a rosy tone across her cheeks, her eyes had a bright golden shadow spread across them. Abigail seemed like the perfect target, I could smell her tasty blood from a mile away.

She began to walk faster, deeper into the shadows of the cold city streets as I followed soundlessly. Her body language screamed that she was frightened and extremely paranoid. Suddenly she yelped and stumbled onto the cement, and grabbed her ankle.

Owe Fuck she groaned. One of her stilettos hit a pothole the wrong way and snapped completely off, making her fall. Poor Abigail, such a clumsy human like I expected. So fragile, so weak and with the slightest bite I could kill her. She turned around as she was taking off both stilettos. I moved into a doorway so she would not see me, kicking an aluminum soda can by mistake as it clinked against the concrete.

Steve? I said not tonight she groaned as she held her ankle. It became silent. She looked around concerned.

Steve, what are you doing? Come out already, I hurt my damn ankle and it would be nice to get a ride home instead of you stalking me she laughed with irony over the situation. It became silent once more.

Tell you what, give me a ride to my place, I’ll give you a special treat and a free personal yoga session tomorrow morning she began stretching her leg, twisting and turning her ankle, hoping to be able to stand once again her hair falling in her face.

Are you going to answer me you asshole? she attempted to stand up, but fell to the concrete shortly after and sighed. I stepped out of the doorway cautiously, hoping she wouldn’t attempt to run, even if she tried she wouldn’t get too far on a sprained ankle. She grabbed her cheap pair of stilettos, grunting and breathing heavily as she tried to fix them.

Talking to yourself isn’t a good habit I smirked. She jumped back and grabbed her heart.

Damn girl, you just scared the hell out of me she crossed her arms relieved, still sitting on the cement.

Your fears have only just begun. I said smoothly in a hushed tone. Her eyebrows rose, she looked a little jumbled.

Excuse me? Can I help you with something? She asked sarcastically as she swung her hair out of her face.

Why yes, yes you may I grinned as I licked my cherry red lip-gloss slowly walking over to her. My black heels clinked against the cement casually; the only difference was that mine had a little more class than Ms. Silver stilettos.

With what, why were you hiding? And may I ask why you’re running my stretch, this is my clientele in this area she pushed her palms against the cement, easing her way up on her feet.

Don’t worry girly, I don’t do the streets, so you can keep your so called clientele. I grinned, she was so clueless. It was really cute.

You mind helping me out? she glanced down at her red swollen ankle, while leaning against the wall.

Sure thing princess I whispered as I took a step forward. She grabbed my arm for support, as a look of terror rose in her eyes.

Your skin, it’s freezing, you should get that checked out she mumbled, startled by my icy skin.

Possibly, or maybe you should shut your mouth I grinned exposing my fangs clearly.

What the hell did you just say to me? she let go of my arm and leaned against the wall and then glanced up, frozen in fear when her eyes met my teeth. It was fun to watch the little gears inside her head spin around, as the puzzle became clearer to her that she was in danger, and things were not ok, and that I was not another street walker. I could hear her heart pounding, the adrenaline running through her veins, her weak breath gasping for air as she began to tremble in fear.

What are you? she screamed, as her lips quivered in horror.

I snickered do you not watch movies? Read novels? You know exactly what I am Abigail, and you know deep down inside what happens next My finger traced her jawline as she gulped.

Vampires are not real she pouted as she moved her hair aside. How the hell do you know my name? she gulped.

I have great hearing; I’m not some kind of plastic doll. Vampires are very real I placed my fangs against my fingertip and bit down, as little blood droplets began to ooze out. I hope I was proving my point. I released as the skin began to swerve around the puncture, slowly healing.

You’re a freak, you have fake fangs and blood capsules she pushed me away.

I laughed, I wish. Now it’s time to face reality I pushed her against the wall more, she shrieked in pain

Leave me alone, Vampires do not exist! she cried, struggling to break free from my grasp. She began to fight, trying to push me away. Her cigarettes fell from her skirt pocket, as she gently slipped down a little.

Please stop, that’s my only pack for the week! she cried as she bit down on her lip.

Smoking is the least of your worries I placed my teeth against her neck. My icy breath gave her goose bumps zigzagging down her spine. She cringed and shook in fear, as she began to whimper hysterically. My teeth sharper than a razors edge sunk in her feeble skin. Blood droplets appeared around my fangs slowly dripping down her neck. The delicious blood began to drip down my throat. The hunger, the burn fading as the blood began to enter my mouth. I was addicted to the sugary iron in her blood. Abigail choked as I sucked her blood, her struggling finally eased up, as she became weaker and weaker, soon reaching death. Her body fell to the ground; I grabbed her motionless corpse and gently drug her near a large dumpster, and let her fall to the ground into a cocoon of flesh. Her golden eye shadow shimmered in the moonlight. I wiped the blood off my mouth and began to walk away. She was capable of doing so much more, but she would rather sell her body on the streets. There were no cemeteries around to give her a proper burial, it seemed so easy, but no one understood how much it killed me inside each time I needed to drink. I hated the monster I became, I put on a strong face, pretend everything is ok but the truth was I didn’t enjoy killing innocent souls, especially in such a grotesque way.

Chapter Two

Welcome to Sapphire Cove, one of the largest cities in the world located along the northern shores of Lake Huron in Michigan. The city is in a bay, surrounded by thousands of acres of forests. It is one of the most beautiful sight seeing places on the earth, with nice clear blue waters, tall rising buildings with unique architecture. Sapphire Cove has Exquisite forests with cliffs of all sizes, some overlooking the lake.

Although it is very beautiful, there is also a much hidden dark side, a side I have seen first-hand. I have heard from many sources, that the city is filled with several covens of vampires. Society’s so secret; even I have never met another one, my entire immortal life. I know for a fact we don’t go around advertising that we are in fact real vampires, but it is very clear that mortals know we exist, but rather than accepting it, they just like to consider us as mythical creatures from some sort of tale. We are far from an imaginary. Death rates are normal for a huge city, but there have been hundreds of suspected vampire associated deaths.

I closed my eyes for a moment. Sometimes I wish I was not immortal, I day dream sometimes what it would be like to have my old life back, my old skin, my old taste, my old feelings of peace, and violence was just a blur of something I avoided. Deep down I dreaded my fate, waiting night by night for the answer I already knew. Such a cynical girl I am, but I am very certain I will be alone always, and this eternity will be the slowest form of suicide. Some nights feel like eternity. I would sit and even dream of dying, ending my lonely nightmare. I mean, it’s not terrible being immortal, but I would rather choose death than being alone forever, tormented by my own two murderous hands that commit the very thing I despise. I have been this way for ninety-eight years, not including my mortal life. I just turned nineteen when I became this monster everyone likes to call a vampire. Yeah they were portrayed as sexy, aloof creatures with hearts of gold. I laugh sometimes, yes some of us have those qualities, but are mortals not aware of what we do to eat? One day I would love to meet someone like myself, a real bloodsucking vampire, but for some reason everywhere I go, everywhere I look seems to be empty, with no trace of anyone of my interest.

My only friend is myself, besides the woman at the coffee shop down the street, and the worst part is I only converse when I get my mocha but other than that no one bothers to get to know me and if they actually did, it probably wouldn’t end well. I tried to make a friend once, but that ended terribly. The next night day I was left alone again, with a carpet covered in blood to clean up and a body to dispose of. Ever since then I’ve isolated myself from the mortals. I’m too much of a monster to actually be anything more than just a killer. The man I brought home was extremely attractive, charming, and I felt like my old self with him, my old mortal self. I always had coffee with him, never thought too much about it, one night he