the end of a vampyre couple

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
a young man believing be is a vampyre waits on his lover in a cemetery.

Submitted: August 05, 2009

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Submitted: August 05, 2009

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It was dark that night, so dark that most people would say you couldnt see your hand in front of your own face. The storms had long since passed away though their clowds still left a lot of cover in the sky. These were the kinds of nights that Anselm enjoyed being outside. He was never even out during the day anymore. There was this rumor that all vampyres would burst into flame if they were in sunlight, though all of their kind knew this wasnt true. They could be out during the day all they wanted without a problem, they just burned a lot easier because of their sensitive skin. Tanning booths didn't help them fight off this burn either like some doctors said it would, in fact Anselm had even managed to burn useing a tanning bed. Though tonight this wasnt one of his concerns for the moon was up high and hidden behind the clowds and the sun had long sense gone down. Tonight his concern was the graveyard. He wasnt security here, he wasnt even an employee. Nor did he have any family that was buried here in this graveyard. He had moved away from his hometown long ago when his entire family had burned to death in a house fire. This was a place where he never planned to return. There was nothing left for him there. This graveyard, in this strange town where he knew no one, was what he really cherished. The night security didn't care if you were there or not as long as you left without vandelizeing anything. Since he never had vandelized anything on the grounds (the one person who had ever vandelized anything was caught months before he had started coming here on a regular basis) the security never seemed to notice that he was even there. It was like he was a ghost, which is something he perferred. The only person who ever recognized he was there was another vampyre like himself. Though she wasn't at the graveyard every night like he was she was here often enough. Like himself she dined on animals blood to hide her true nature from the normals around them and to avoid looking for a willing human doner or stealing it from a blood bank. Not to mention an animals blood was safer than a humans. Few deseases passed from an animal to a a human through the blood, unlike with human blood contact. Anselm already knew if he had taken any of his willing human doners he would have HIV and be on the verge of contracting AIDS by now. Though he didnt know her story surrounding her choice of animals blood he didnt wonder too hard. He figured it would be much like his own and figured it would be best to leave it alone rather than going into it. On many of the nights they spent here together they spoke of things like art, politics, even sex. If it was a major taboo that scared most onlookers (no matter the country of origin) they seemed to realish it. They enjoyed many of the same things and looked in simmilar places for entertainment. They had both also visited a local jail a few times to witness the execution of a person they had never seen before that night. So many condsider this something only for the victems and their families both of them seemed to think of it as a more public affair. This was a country that did kill people who killed people to show people killing people is wrong so they both figured watching this odd double negative was something they might as well enjoy when it came up. You never knew when one would ever come again and it was something most people in this beautiful free country of ours would never see. So many more were concerned about the newest plastic surgery they wanted or what celebrety had died and how. Heath Ledger was still a major headline and both of them seemed to agree his last movie had gotten a lot of public attention soley because he had died so recently and there would never be another his fans could rush out to see. Then there were others who had grown up watching the famous series of movies and never knew the man existed before his death hit the news stands. They were definately some of them. Tonight, though, was not a night reserved for one of their long discussions about art or anything else. Tonight was the night they reserved their own spots in the ground of this graveyard. Both of them had set up small funerals already and had paid lawyers to buy them a plot side by side with simple grave stones bearing nothing but their names. The only thing the two of them had ever owned was a large inheritance from a rich family. Both of them paid rent month to month on a small apartment aswell. Tonight was a night that all of this would be gone as well though. It would go to a chairity for skin cancer. They both had agreed they would commit suicide at their favorite grave in the entire area, the grave of Stacy Armstrong. Though the last name has been made famous, this woman never was. Neither of them even knew what drew them here, they just knew that something did. It was the only spot that ever would. Lost in his train of thought she had arrived without Anselm noticeing her. By the time he had turned his head and realized she was there she had already set up her part: a small tray with two wine glasses filled with pigs blood. He pulled out his part from the pocket of his dress pants: cyonide. It was split up into two different packets, each having enough to kill three people. Though they could have easily split one packet and still have it kill them he wanted to take no chances with any of this. They considered each other lovers and had no plans on the other staying behind because somehow they had been given the incorrect dosage. They mixed the cyonide into the blood and, before anyone had the chance to fix what they had done to themselves, they died peacefully.


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