Looking through this stained glass window
Look at what we could have been
Tiny creatures move and follow
In these bright lights now we are seen

Lets get lost now in the forest
Blood is red against the snow
Moon is smiling down upon us
We are new but we can grow

Fog is swirling down around us
The night is young and so are we
We were lying still when dawn found us
You were dead but I am free

No one knows the way the night works
Death is something only we can love
We all must learn to cherish hurt
While Moon still hangs above


There are those who preach that the brain is supreme, that it is the source of all life and power. Lies. One and only one thing keeps you alive. It flows always, never stopping— our very essence. We depend on it until death, yet we never realize that its power surges through our veins— the power of life.

As there are those who feed on flesh, there are those who thrive on your life force your blood. Always searching, their hunger is never satiated. As if it was almost to the point of insatiability, the cravings that control there minds.  Vampires are always searching for the salty, metallic and yet acrid taste of blood.
- - - - -
William stumbled through the forest, frantically scanning the scene. He could feel his hot sweat running down his back as he gripped his sheathed sword. He had lost her. Why did he leave her? They were to meet by the waterfall. How could he? He should have been by her side always, through all adversity. They should have been together, forever, for eternity. Why did he leave her?
William’s mind was flooded with the same questions. No answers. Only the gentle winter breeze and the serene sound of the waterfall behind him could offer him any solace. Stumbling over a root, William reached for the sturdy maple beside him. Its bark was wet and slick with moss and snow. He inhaled deeply, letting the musky wintry air settle in his lungs. As he tumbled onto the padded forest ground, layered with the leaves of the past spring and the snow of the winter, he felt the world swirl around him. His eyes slowly closed and his mind unconsciously  travelled to the hours before.

“Run for your lives!”… “Vampires! Dozens of them!”… “Arm yourselves!”… Distant cries of chaos and panic woke William from his deep sleep as his beloved lay beside him. He ran to the window. It was dusk and the village was wide awake; the streets were paved with men armed with crosses, stakes, and swords. “William! Prepare yourself! Tell the rest to flee, flee to the woods!” There had been attacks before, but never had the women and children evacuated the town. William quietly nodded and went to the bed, waking his wife with gentle urgency. He told her of their plight and they agreed to meet by the waterfall. “I love you” were the last words she spoke before she left, never doubting their reunion. Armed with only his silver sword, William went with the rest of the townsmen and met the undead in the main street. It wasn’t long before the superior strength of their enemy pushed them back. Men were cut down as violently and quickly as the corn on harvest day. Looking to the sky, he saw he red moon emerging from her slumber, smiling at the lands before her. She was blissfully unaware of the pain that was cursing her children. The villagers knew they could not prevail over such malicious creatures and soon relented. Those who survived fled, leaving their town in flames.

The rest faded from thought as William pulled himself back into reality. His face encrusted with sweat and tears, he turned and faced the night sky, discerning that only a few hours had past. The winter air soaked through his skin chilling him to the bone, but such things didn’t bother him. It had been too long since he had seen her face, touched her lips. He was numb. Forcing his parched mouth open, he spoke her name, “Sarah!” The name resounded through the desolate trees and a familiar voice answered,

“William,” her voice was soft and melodious, yet seductive, like the Sirens of the Aegean, “I have finally found you.”

Overlooking the subtle change of her tone, William jumped at her voice as life surged through him. “Sarah? Where are you, my love?” He turned around, following her voice, “We must flee to the next town; this land has forsaken us all.”

As if one with the darkness, she emerged from the shadows and appeared in front of him. Her pale face shone as she basked in the quiet moonlight. William stared at her, and then fell silent. He looked into her sullen eyes, their light and life extinguished. Her hair no longer glistened with the colors of the earth: amber, bronze, and copper. It was bleak, black as coal, insipid as tar.

William felt his body slump as hope and life drained out of him. Her image no longer gave him strength; she was no longer his muse, his sanctuary. What have they done to her? To have such beauty and grace taken so quickly was beyond belief. What have they done?

She smiled and fixed her eyes on his neck, hungering for a taste. “No my pet, you are weak and you have lost much blood. We have lifetimes ahead of us; our love will be immortal as the sun.” William staggered, stunned by shock. He hoped that his eyes had failed him, but he did not doubt what irreparable darkness lurked inside her. Consumed by grief, his energy dissipated as fear and anguish besieged him. At the back of his mind he almost wished that he had not seen her again. His hands were shaking but his will was resolute. William found no need for words, for they had lost their place and meaning. Nothing could compel him to hate her, neither Satan nor his abhorrent minions. Their love was to be eternal, even through death.

Sarah, gliding towards him, bit into her forearm, letting her blood flow freely. He straightened his body as she offered her bloodied limb to him. Quietly preparing, William said to himself, “So shall it be.”

Letting their bodies come together, he watched as she looked down at his silver sword, slick with blood, sliding decisively through her and then through him. When its hilt touched her back, he tightened his grip and stood tall and pain washed over him. Blood slowly spilled from their wounds to the ground, staining the white snow crimson. She fell first, forcing the weapon upward, thus slicing through his stomach. He inhaled sharply, and as the frost numbed him, he collapsed.

“Sarah, I love you.” But no reply came, only the soft rumbling of the waterfall, so distant but so near. The breeze circled him and rejuvenated his emaciated body, his spirit as strong as oak. The bare trees towered above, casting mighty shadows around him and even the eminent moon deigned to turn her elegant gaze upon them. The world was his protector, his sanctuary.

All sensation and mobility had left his body, yet he managed to jerk his hand from his sword, landing his fingers on her lips. Feeling the last of her warmth leave her body, he felt her transcend through the shadows.

Blood burst forth, seeping through his mouth, and he smiled, “Life has no beginning, no end…” His thought lingered as he let his hand drop.

The forest air immersed him in its tender breeze as his gaze rested on the pale, lifeless face. Her blood receded into the snow, mixing with his own. Letting his eyes fall, he reached through the sanguine slush and felt the soft wet earth. His body fell limp and he slowly receded into the world.