Vampiric Vengeance

She poisoned the wine.

In each bottle she made sure to drop in just the right amount of one of her many lethal concoctions. Her owner (formally known as her master, but she loathed such a title for him in her head) took a sip from his chalice and he smiled that pretentious smile that always seemed too wide for his wrinkly face.

She took a sip from her own, poison-free glass, the metallic taste seething on her tongue and seeping euphorically into her bones- satisfying her hunger. 

“Cheer up, Susanna! There is wine, piles of food reaching the ceiling and great music. Enjoy this evening while it lasts.”

I hope you do too, because it is your last. Susanna thought in her head.

Her cheeks flare at a glimpse of someone across the ballroom. A handsome man in black, skin the colour of cocoa and an empty glass in hand stares at her. Aware her owner was watching, she bit her lip and used the newfound fervour to twist her lips into a thin smile- a gesture she never once did around him.

“There you go!” He sputtered as he laughed jovially before downing the remaining contents of his chalice. He staggered away.

A chill ran up Susanna’s spine and she swivelled her neck to see the source of the cool air pricking at her skin. The handsome man in black, her lover, was leaving the dull festivities of the ballroom. Leaving her. Her eyes widened at the sight of him closing the door, but he threw a quick wink in her direction- and with a reassuring smile, left the ballroom.

Her heart beat slowed down- reminding herself he would never leave her so suddenly, and if he ever did, he’d die a slow and excruciating death by her fangs. Another tingle ran through her, but this time it went straight to her core, and for a split second, all she could see was red.

The start of an agonised set of groans touched her ears and her mouth turned upwards at the ends as she turned around, slowly. Guests clasped their torsos, some waiters collapsed while others were paralysed with shock- the sight before her was the second most anticipated sight of hers. The first, well, that was more shamelessly erotic in nature- not even she could bring herself to say it aloud, not even as a whisper to herself in the night. But she pushed her most desired fantasy down for that moment, she considered it best to relish in the one going on in front of her.

“Help us!” An elderly man, more decrepit than her owner, yelled out. His voice was a ghastly shriek of someone who had never suffered once in their life.

Good for him. Susanna thought. He finally knows what pain, real merciless, faithless pain feels like.

Shrieks that sounded more like demons being bathed in the white light of heaven bounced off the ornate walls and polished chandeliers as the poison worked its way into the guests’ systems: first constricting their lungs, but not enough for them to die, next their organs began to burn from the inside out, creating holes similar to Swiss cheese. Her eyes scanned the room and her mouth watered at the sight of group death- the thought of the blood she would have consumed otherwise if not for her knowledge of the poison and her decaying morality.

But hunger wasn’t the only thing on her mind. Though no one in the room had her physicality, and she cared very little for them in general, suffering people was not a foreign sight for her. It happened that she had lived through suffering since day one- the only difference then was that her most recent owner gave her more luxurious, comfortable quarters to rest in as she experienced it.

Susanna closed her to the noise around and allowed the torrid memories to resurface.

It was cold when they were at sea. Once the ship left the warm, pillowy soft terrain of the Caribbean, all baby Susanna recalled was being very cold. She imagined she felt warmer in her parents’ arms, though she could not remember them- as their initial contact with her was very brief.

Packed in with other dirt-skinned folk, she felt at home in the dark. The ship rocked and swayed and the aroma of the salty sea did nothing to mask the scent of the foulness that grew when cleanliness wasn’t upholded by the masters of the ship. But the most pungent smell of all, was of fear. Fear that choked passengers by the stench, fear that riddled their bodies with foreign diseases and that same fear is what led many to die before they arrived at the destination. A destination they were forced to journey to, but a destination nonetheless.

That’s where Susanna’s parents were different. At least a little bit more than their counterparts.

One day, they were on deck. They coughed as the sea air entered their lungs; they’d been below deck far too long. Bravery lunged themselves over the side of the ship, but greasy-haired white ghouls dragged them back- they had failed. Leather sashed against skin and innocent blood was shed after that. The rest of the journey to the new world felt more torturously long than the several months prior.

It docked.

Only Susanna’s mother stepped off that ship- but she was promptly dragged away crying- never to see Susanna again.

The scene flashed in front of Susanna’s eyes like lightning. Business men, government officials, even a few higher-ups and their wives were gradually silencing. Many were slumped in pools of poisoned blood, their fine clothes of colourful silk and other exotic fabrics rendered dirty, while others continued to convulse as they struggled to cling onto their privileged lives. Strings of fur were ridden to a tangled state- a far cry from their former glory, rosy cheeks faded into sickly, pale skin and the innards of the rich and powerful were strewn on the shiny marble floor.

A tremor sizzled throughout her entire body as her fangs came out. But the carnage wasn’t the reason. It was the intoxicating scent of her lover- and his wife, just outside the ballroom doors.

I can’t do that. I can’t turn them into monsters. I won’t bite them.

This very thought ran through her mind day after day. She wondered if she was any better than the aristocrats she killed. As they wanted innocent blood to be spilt for free labour to build their empire- she wanted innocent blood spilt to satiate her animalistic hunger- neither of them were more righteous in their filthy, selfish desires.

She took several steps backwards, her back facing the door. The previous cries of agony were transformed into barely audible whimpers and breathing. 

She thought about the ship. She thought about her parents. She even thought about the other passengers, despite the faint memories of them.

Any shred of guilt seized.

She spat on one of the many corpses that lay at her feet. She raised her head and cleared her throat.

“Ah!” She shrieked as if she were in immense pain. Deliberately, she flailed her arms about in a frenzy, allowing a stray tear to cascade down her cheek. Her shoes smacked against the marble floor as she waddles backwards, taking the time to admire the view of bodies as one would a giant painting. 

This charade only ended when she got to the ballroom door. Standing up straight, with a wicked smile on her face, she stepped out into the pouring rain.

A black horse and carriage was waiting with her lover and his wife standing before it. The rain cleansed all three of them of their own woes, at least temporarily. Susanna tore the adornments from her hair and ran her fingers through it to let it free in its natural, matted state. The scent of them drew her to them in a couple seconds, and her lover’s wife met her by offering her wrist.

“You can drink from me. I don’t mind. You deserve it.”

Susanna’s fangs wasted no time in piercing into the skin of her wrist. A yelp escaped her mouth that was ironically painted red- but she didn’t pull away.

She’ll get used to it. Susanna thought. Drops of the sweet-scented blood ran down Susanna’s throat. Her eyes rolled back as she savoured it, silently worshipped how it made her feel less hungry- for the time being. 

Her lover cleared his throat behind her and she briskly pulled away; he was most important to her after all. Her lover’s wife huffed as she turned her attention to him, but she knew the two holes in her wrist would heal faster with the help of one of her potions, so she ignored her.

“Did you do what you intended to do?”

“Yes, yes I did. Do you want to see?”

“I’d rather not.” Thunder nearly stole the pleasure of the sound of his chuckle. Susanne smiled at him knowingly. She took his hands.

“What are you doing?”

“Dance with me.” She turned and he obliged to her command that sounded hauntingly seductive coming from her lips, still stained with his wife’s blood.

He refused to remove his eyes off her; he couldn’t take his eyes off her. The rain had seeped into her white cotton dress and clinged to her figure, revealing each tempting curve he promised to devour when they returned home.

They spun as the rain poured down on them even harder. They spun so fast it was almost as if they created a new type of weather all by themselves. 

But though Susanna’s chortle could barely be heard over the powerful thunder, or the water falling aggressively from the heavens, if anyone was there, anyone at all- they would have seen it.

The sight of lightning striking out the clouds and across the sky, the lit ballroom with the blood of retired murdered victors leaking down the steps, and above all, the trio that were manic to stand out in the open, with the rain relentlessly pouring as they relished in shared victory.

She poisoned the wine.

But they stayed at her side.