A Vampyre Tale Series by author Wayne Mallows

Excerpt from Chapter 1 of Whitechapel Road; A Vampyre Tale

picShe leaned forward so that she was once again positioned directly over his mouth and then with a single enlarged canine fang positioned in such a fashion as to have her lower lip effectively trapped between its lethal point and her lower row of teeth, she squeezed her jaws together puncturing her lip clean through. As she released the grip in her jaws and let the porcelain dagger slip from the fresh self-inflicted wound, a pool of her own blood bubbled forth spilling out over her lip and onto her chin. As the blood continued to run freely from the newly opened hole, she lowered her face to his, taking his deathly cold lips to her own, letting the blood flow into his mouth. Through his choking sounds she continued the chilling kiss of death, not stopping until she too grew weak.

Breaking the kiss and pulling back slowly, a thin string of blood mixed with saliva still joining the two. Taxed by distance and the physics that govern its molecular structure, it finally collapsed, falling across his already bloody chin. She let herself slide off his body, gravity her only assistant and on hand and knee she returned to the stone wall of the bridge where she propped herself up against it.

Wiping the blood from her face with a sleeve of the dress, a dress which she had stolen from her previous victim, she let her head fall into her hand. With her head supported, her elbow resting upon an upturned knee, she remained all but motionless, nestled between the body of her newfound interest and the wall of the bridge.

With the once brilliant moon now muted by cloud, she spoke to the unmoving body stretched out before her.

“You see, my dear Aremis, all this time you have been gone and no one comes looking for you. You worry far too much for those who seem to care little for your well-being.”

Standing up, her legs shaking beneath her, she looked down upon him.

“You shall either die here this morning or you will recover much the way I did. The choice is not up to you in a conscious sense but will hinge on how strong your will to live is. I would take you with me and would see to your recovery best I could. Alas, I fear that I have underestimated how drained I would be in the attempt to keep you from slipping into the Reaper’s icy grip. I am sure, as you have so well convinced me that those who love you soon will find you, just as I am certain they will find those poor souls who were not as fortunate as you but a few miles from here.”

With that, she knelt down and pressed her lips to his for a last kiss. A moment later she was gone, having crested the bridge wall and disappeared into the blackness of the ravine.

See page 3 for an interview with Wayne Mallows.

Emma Edwards

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