Hello here is a short story about that I wrote about vampires three years ago but I only just edited it recently. I hope that you can enjoy it.
Summary: Earnest Young is a struggling artist living in poverty in the 1920s. His only hope at salvation is the mysterious vampire Mr.Wright who he discovered living next door.
"No, no, I
won't do it, no more!" Cried a young blond man as he trudged through the
snow. His skin was pale, his fingers bony, and his eyes were sunken in from
lack of sleeping.
But what drew the attention of all who walked by, was not his
fatigue or neglected appearance, it was his lack of shoes on that freezing
winter's night. He was dressed only in a thin pair of pants, a crisp white
shirt, and his feet lacked anything to prevent frostbite. But to the horror and
amazement of all, instead of freezing from the cold and curling up into a ball
to shiver, the man easily bulldozed through the snow like it was the middle of
summer.
"No, no, absolutely not!” He wailed as he pushed through
the crowd of workers returning home. Onlookers stopped to stare at the man who
should have been frozen before they brushed off the spectacle and returned on
their way.
"Why, why not?" Yelled Earnest, as he fought through
the crowd to catch up with the blond man. "Why won't you turn me into a
vampire?"
At the word vampire,
the man stopped and froze like he'd been stabbed in the back, and Earnest used
this opportunity to catch a must needed breath. Earnest bent over and grabbed
his knees for support. His chest burned like fire and frantically moved up and
down. Unlike the man before him, Earnest was wearing every piece of clothing he
owned, which still wasn't enough to keep out the cruel winter cold. His coat
was worn and covered with holes, and his shoes and pants were a sight to
behold. Earnest's clothing wasn't the only thing in need of attention. His
short brown hair was messy and unkempt, and his sea blue eyes were tired and
drained. It wasn't unusual for this boy of nineteen to be mistaken for an older
man without any home.
"When will you leave me alone?" Asked the vampire who
oozed sadness. "Why is it always you who follows me home?"
"Please Mr. Wright," begged Earnest. "I ask only
one thing, please make me a vampire so that I can escape this dreadful mortality."
"Don't call me that!" Boomed the vampire. "I'm
not Mr. Wright. That's the name of the man who I killed in order to rest my
head in the daylight!"
"Then how should I address you?" Asked Earnest with a
hint of hope. "It's only fitting that I know the name of the man who shall
deliver me into immortality."
"Immortality, you say," said the vampire with a
chuckle. "You treat my curse like it's something desirable."
"It's not a curse Mr. Wright," said Earnest and he saw
the vampire flinch. "The way I see it, it's more like a gift from heaven.
There's no need to worry about money or age, and it apparently protects you
from this blistering cold."
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