Wrapped in Red: Thirteen Tales of Vampiric Horror by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Vampires, Anthology
Publisher: Sekhmet Press LLC
Published: 2013-10-27T04:00:00+00:00

When I awoke, I thought I had gone blind. Not even the vague moonlight graced my eyes. I tried to sit up, but my head bumped against solid wood. I reached out, touching only thick planks. Panic seized me, and I screamed and kicked, trying to destroy the coffin I had been caged in. I’m not dead! I’m here, I’m still alive!

It must have taken several minutes before I finally broke the planks. But that made earth cave in on me. I wasn’t going to give up. I had to get out. Struggling to keep my eyes and mouth closed, I clawed through soil. The broken pieces of wood tore my clothes as I made my way upward. The will to live was the only thing keeping me from stopping. I tried to ignore the taste of dirt whenever I tried to breathe. After what felt like hours, I made it to the surface.

I shot one hand out, then the other. I pulled myself up. Spitting and coughing out earth, I racked my brains. What had happened to me? I looked around. The quarter moon shone brighter than usual upon the graveyard. The smell of soil and rot mingled strongly. My ears picked up the faintest human voices, which had to be at least a hundred feet away. Frogs and crickets called out so loudly it was as if they were all right next to me.

Then, I heard the most distinctive sound of all: the beating of a heart. I looked around, until I found a tall figure coming toward me, accompanied by a gentle sphere of light. Then, the scent of brandy drifted in the air. The memories that returned to me reminded me that I was still Aranka Ungur, daughter of Costin the winemaker.

“Are you alright, Miss?” the young man asked.

His scent wrapped around me, obscuring everything else. The only other thing I felt was my insides burning, begging for nourishment. My jaws ached dully, making my mouth water.

“Dénes,” I uttered.

In my hunger, my voice sounded distant. But the sound of his name kept me conscious. I lifted my face. Indeed, it was him, my gentle younger brother, holding a lantern. As he had done that day, he looked upon me with stark alarm, his mouth open. I approached him, heedless of my filthy appearance and shredded white dress.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I whispered in his ear.

Dénes’ eyes went wide with shock and I hooked my arms around his neck. It was when I opened my slobbering jaws that I felt his hands push forcibly against my chest. Weak in the knees with starvation, I was easily shoved away. I hit the ground and snarled at him. Then he raised the lantern high in the air.

I dodged the lantern as it crashed on the exact spot I had been and set it aflame. Screaming, I hid my face from the fire.

“Go away!” barked Dénes.

I glanced at him. To my horror, he was holding out a crucifix. I recognized it at once; our grandfather had given it to Dénes before he died.

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