Nightbound

This is one of my many attempts at a take on the vampire genre. For the longest time, I've been trying develop my own lore behind it, but I think I've finally found a formula that works.

Nightbound

            The open eyes of the pale beast clad in black reflected the darkness from which it slowly emerged. Yet it was not blind, as one would think. It saw what many eyes would need an external source of light to see. The stone slab that serves as its resting place day after day from the moment the sun rose until it set; the one vestige of twilight that it knew in the burning hours wherein only those with breath may tread. It knew itself by many names, yet had none at all. All that mattered to the beast was its hunger that had persisted for hundreds of years. It had long transcended any vain earthly pleasures untouched by the long, wondrous night. And the wisdom of the land of the dead where the sun’s rays dared not penetrate exceeded that of all it once knew.

            It rose from the cold slab which it could not feel against its skin, its bony fingers dragging across the slab as it sat up, crawling out of the hole in the earth. The pale beast made its way back into the plane of the living, where its meal awaited. Moonlight rained down on its flesh as it trod barefoot through the long, thick layers of grass. This was its earthly habitat. Serene, largely shunned by the living for a long time, where the spirits of the dead fallen in some great battle would dance in the creature’s dreams.

            For a long time, it traveled. It liked to savor the breeze on its flesh, to sniff the air. To follow darkness amidst the stars towards the end of its journey. This was its playground. It was but a shell of the world that was its true home. The world that had long ago been created for it, and that it in turn, it had created. It had once been like them, those who count themselves amongst the living. But it could only look back on those days and laugh scornfully to itself. Who it had once been was weak in comparison to the god of the nightside it would become.

            After some wandering, it stood at the skyline, where the lights of the city shimmered brightly. It contemplated the best way to infiltrate. Much as it enjoyed rousing the fear of its prey, it didn’t want to attract suspicion, or there would be panic, and it would lose sight of its target. The streetlights were not an issue in and of themselves, as it could meld with the shadows at will. But if someone saw it, then it would be forced to abstain from feeding.

            Stillness.

            It reached out with its sight.

            There was an alleyway it could take into the city, between two bars, littered with trash. From there, it would climb the wall on the building to the right, and await the first person that caught its eye.

***

            Finally, it reached the alleyway that it saw from afar, and hid behind the dumpster, listening for footsteps to ensure it wasn’t spotted.

            So inconvenient, it quipped to itself. Surely a Nightbound such as itself was deserving of better than what many of its inferior progeny were reduced to? A being that traversed both the worlds of the dead and of the living, now skulking in the shadows of earth like one of its lesser kin. No matter. It would get what it came for.

            Patience.

            After several sets of footsteps passed, echoing loudly in its ears, there was silence. So it pressed its sharp fingernails in between the mortar holding the bricks together, scaling its way up to the top of the bar. Once it reached the top, the thing perched itself on the ledge facing the street, scanning the crowds.

            Humans. It knew of the weaker ones using humans to do their bidding. To bring them meals or to provide their own bodies to them. The thing saw no need for any such assistance. Humans were naught but a reminder of its former weakness, and only existed in its eyes to be devoured for sustenance.

            As it scanned and waited, the creature’s hunger grew. It wanted to jump down there and bite the first thing that passed it by. Or to frighten the crowds so they would disperse, giving it one target to eye. But it knew that would not happen. Fast as it might be, their fear would only rouse its hunger more, and it did not wish to be distracted and forget about the sun. Not that it couldn’t come back, it just didn’t want to prove a slave to its thirst.

            From one of the crowds emerged a young brunette woman in a cardigan sweater draped over her shoulders. A sinister smirk spread across its face. It didn’t quite understand what it was that piqued its curiosity about her. Over the many centuries of its existence, it had fed on men and women alike. There was no discrimination in its black eyes. But something about her made it want to take its time and not feed right away.

            She moved just outside of the nearest streetlight, and it hovered down gracefully, slipped just out of the light and became one with the darkness covering the building walls. It waited until she was just out of reach, and it was certain that, the crowds were distracted, then emerged from the shade and followed her.

***

            They wandered through several neighborhoods, each one seemingly smaller than the last. The streets were littered with fallen orange leaves, the trees barren. Many houses were lit up with orange lights and caricatures of ghosts and gravestones set up on the lawns, and pumpkins set on their porches, faces carved into their surfaces. It had been around long enough to know what these were meant for. A day when the living believed their world and that of the dead would meet.

            The truth is far from what they think they know.

            On their way, it gave away its position several times, occasionally stepping in a pile of leaves or a stray twig. as she turned around to look if there was anyone behind her. There never was.

            Eventually, she reached a house, two stories high with windows on two sets of windows at the bottom and three at the top. She marched up the porch steps and unlocked the door, looking behind her once more as if to ensure that she wasn’t being watched. Then walked in and shut the door behind her, turning on the lights.

            The thing followed. Its molecules evaporated, its body turning ethereal as it stepped through the window closest to the door into a dark room where it regenerated its physical form. It crept silently into the next room and beneath the shadow cast by the refrigerator, allowing its flesh once again slowly fade away. She was sitting on the couch in the living room, watching something on TV that it didn’t recognize. The creature waited patiently, its hunger slowly resurging. It wanted to get her attention somehow, but that would ruin the thrill. So it decided to wait. To wait until she had gone to bed, then it would enjoy itself.

***

            It took two hours for the program to finish. She left the living room and turned off the light, and the creature hid there as she entered the next room and turned the light out there, too. It waited for her to go upstairs before it once again emerged from the darkness, ensuring that it wouldn’t be seen. The woman opened a door upstairs and closed it after she entered, and it reopened it just a slight peek.

            She undressed and slipped into her pajamas, about to head in for the night. Once again, it quietly shut the door and headed downstairs, ready to quench its thirst for one more night before returning from whence it came.

            The creature stalked the house, looking for something to break. It set its eyes on a lamp, but decided against it.

            No. Must be something more … symbolic.

            It looked around for the bathroom, finding a slightly ajar door that sure enough, lead to the bathroom and to what it was looking for: a mirror. For a moment, it stood there. Stared at its countenance. Long, dark hair flowing down past its shoulders; its unnaturally pale skin taut across its emaciated visage, withered from a lack of feeding. Then it punched the mirror. The shards lacerated and impaled its hand, but it felt no pain as it calmly extracted them and its wounds healed without much blood loss or any scarring.

            Footsteps.

            The woman came running down the stairs. Hastily, it turned on the light, then vanished into the nearest shadow on the wall nearest the bathroom with seconds to spare. She looked at the broken mirror, her eyes wide with terror, then fled the bathroom towards the kitchen.
            The thing shut off the light and chased her, so fast she couldn’t even hear it. She reached into the drawer to grab a knife, unaware of the lurking horror behind her. The woman had no time to react as it gently gripped its clawed hands on each of her shoulder. The touch of its hands was so ice cold she dropped the blade in shock, unable to find herself capable of movement. It parted her hair to the side, and sank its fangs deep into her neck.

            Her eyelids began to flutter and her mouth hung open, sighing beyond ecstasy and pain as blood sprayed forth from her throat, onto the beast’s face. The draining went on for minutes, as it meticulously lapped up every pint that poured out. Her vision faded as it dropped her limp body to the floor.

            It stared down at its prey, her blood dripping from its chin onto its black cloak. And it smiled triumphantly, baring its sharp, white teeth stained crimson from its meal, kneeling to the floor and extending its arms to her head, twisting it all the way around, severing her spine. The taut flesh on its face was now filled, returning to a semblance of its former human visage, androgynous and youthful. It left the house through the back door, satisfied that it got what it came for before returning to its grave.

***

            Before it returned to the hole, it sat up for a few hours until the dawn. When it saw the light shimmering slightly just above the horizon it fled back to the slab, closing its black eyes and returning to its true kingdom.

            The land of the dead. Where the day never came, and the spirits of the dead danced and it fed forever; where the vines reached out from the depths of the barren holes, choked with the bones and bodies of the failures of the transcendence; where vast, bottomless black oceans stretched far beyond what the eye can see and their tendrils seeped into the leafless forests; where the thing walked at one with the mists. Here, in its kingdom, it was forever nightbound.