From the Grave

The crescent moon overhead shown brightly above the large stone sepulcher, illuminating its cold cinder walls. Inside the century old vault, lay rest a massive sarcophagus. The room itself lay bare, aside from a few scattered scraps of age old debris. The only thing of any interest was the sarcophagus itself. The sides were engraved with intricately carved symbols and images in gold and silver that seemed to be from a completely different life time all together.

A wealthy mixture of rubies, emeralds, and diamonds sprinkled the top, the light splashing through an overhead skylight turning them into sparkling prisms.
Surprisingly, the jewels remained intact throughout the years. Normally grave robbers stole anything of even remote value before a corpse could even begin to decay. The peculiarity of it all was very strange indeed. The chains sealing the vault had long since been removed, crumbled to mere dust from the years of rust eating away the metal. Countless dead vines and thorny rose bushes clung to the sides like dead skeletons. From its appearance, it wasn’t surprising things were left undisturbed.
As the night progressed, the small cemetery began to come to life. Mourners of those long dead came and set flowers on the graves of loved ones. This night was different then most. This was All Hallows Eve. Those that came didn’t appear to be sad, in fact they were almost happy. They were celebrating life as well as death. The sound of the parading people echoed off the small, crumbling gravestones and crypts and eventually made its way in to the sepulcher, echoing off its stone walls. From within the sarcophagus something stirred.
From within the tomb, two large eyes opened and blinked in the darkness. A hand touched the top of the stone lid, moving its way along its width. After a moment it shot up wards, lifting the heavy stone lid with a tremendous force. The lid clattered to the floor, sending tremors through the small vault. The hand gripped the side and clutched at it for a moment. Seconds later, a head emerged, and then a torso. It was a man.
His hair was a dark richly brown and hung in large clumps around his ears. His eyes were large and a striking emerald green. Thick black lashes fringed them, making them stand out distinctively. His face was pale and classically handsome with full pale, shell pink lips. He looked around curiously, examining the room in which he lay. Those large eyes of his drank in every detail of the stone room, even passing over the broken stone lid. Several of the precious gems lay scattered about the floor.
Standing up, he quickly jumped over the side of the sarcophagus and stretched, upsetting the several layers of dust collected on his clothes. He looked down at his attire: moldering cloth powdered with decades worth of dust and dirt. As if to remove it, he dusted at himself with his hand, succeeding in only distilling even more dust and tearing some of the thread bare material. Ignoring this, he took a step forward. From there his body transformed. This could only be described as a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. Every muscle in his tightly built frame flexed, relieving knots of tension. The beauty of his face doubled as his cheeks grew ruddy and his eyes came alive with the colors of a stormed night sky. His hair grew lustrous, despite the clots of dirt and grim that caked it. He looked like an angel fallen from above.
At that exact moment a young woman and her older sister walked past the sepulcher, adorned in bright jewelry and vibrant outfits. Small bells clung to the younger ones ankles, tinkering like small peals of laughter. The man looked up sharply, his eyes following the sound. His breathing seemed to stop as every fiber of his being became attentive to the noise. His lip began to quiver and the veins in his neck throbbed. His breathing became raspy and labored, as if he couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, with the agility of a wolf, he climbed atop the sarcophagus and sprang up through the skylight.
One of the girls screamed as the man landed atop her, knocking her to the ground. The other one stumbled backwards, the bells on her ankles ringing erratically. She watched in horrified silence as the man slashed her sisters throat, rupturing a main artery. A pink tongue shot out immediately and lapped at the gushing blood insistently. The young victim made a weak attempt to push him off, but only smeared her hands with her own blood, as he was already soaked.
A low growl rang from his throat and he picked her body up, pulling her closer to him. He sank his whole mouth in to her neck, drinking from the seemingly never ending fountain of blood. The young girl opened her mouth in protest, but before she could say anything she was dead. Her head fell to the side as the last drop of her blood left her body.
The other sister covered a hand to her mouth as a great shuddering gasp escaped her trembling lips. The man set the dead girl down and turned around to face the other. His handsome face was crimson with the blood from the other, distorting his features grotesquely.
He stood slowly, wiping the still fresh blood from his mouth. Shaking, the girl took a step back, trying desperately to look away from her sisters mutilated body and run. He came towards her, his face with out malice and seemed almost warm and kind. A lovely warmth spread throughout her, taking with it some of her fear and relaxing her. The man before her smiled and mouthed soundless words of warmth and endearment. She slowly let her defenses down and actually leaned towards him. At the moment her eyes caught the sight of her sister behind him and she snapped back to reality. She screamed shrilly, sending him backwards in shock. Taking the opportunity, she turned and ran.
Dodging gravestones and large mounds of raised dirt, she scrambled her way through the intricate maze of the graveyard. In the distance she could see a large mass of clustered people, slowly making their way through the graves. She tried to scream to them but in her fear, couldn’t make a sound. Fighting back the panic that had already taken hold within her she ran towards an old crypt, slamming through the tiny doors. She was immediately taken aback by the strong stench of death and almost gagged. Trying to ignore it she closed the door and crouched behind the small coffin that lay rest there. Sweat poured down her face and tried desperately to slow her erratic breathing. She could hear him outside, searching for her.
Crouching, she peered over the edge of the coffin towards the door, watching and listening. Finally after what seemed like hours she let out a small sigh of relief and turned around, slumped against the cold metal. Immediately the small bells on her ankles rattled, breaking the silence. Before she even knew what was happening, he was upon her. He grasped her mouth, silencing her scream and pushed her against the coffin. Her eyes widened with terror and she cowered beneath him. He cocked his head slightly to the side, staring at her with interest. He looked at her with an almost child like innocence as he examined her, stirring up some curiosity within her. He smiled suddenly, revealing a set of glittering fangs that were as sharp as knives. At that moment lightening crackled in his eyes and he lunged at her, sinking his fangs in to her plump neck. Her eyes remained open and wide, even as they glazed over with oncoming death. Forever, would they remain like that, the image of lightening imprinted permanently.

By BleedingRegret

Rip. Me. Apart. Till. I. BLEED.