Dark Side of Love

Countless stories have been written about the darkness in mind. The dark, in both film and books, has always held an oddly fascinating, if not perverse sense of delight in people.

The darkness can cause you to lose your way, or stumble over an object you never knew was there until too late. Perhaps finding something that would shock or terrify you, causing a scream to erupt; that sense of cold fear washing through you, and your bladder flies free without permission.

The darkness holds sounds you never pay attention too, that is unless it’s past midnight while walking to your car, walking faster, and glimpsing behind you to see if anyone is following; or at home, and every noise you hear has you on edge.

Perhaps you are being followed, and in one swift moment, a scream is choked from your life, whittled away to a gurgle, then a gasp, that last surge for life, and the last thing your dead eyes see are the eyes of the one who took your life.

The darkness holds many things. The expression on lovers face’s. Thieves relish the darkness, allowing them to prey on unsuspecting people and places.

The darkness is many things to many people.

Darkness is an unexplored world of dauntless fear, never knowing what may be around the next corner, a darkened alleyway or even in deepest slumber.

Fear has a way to heighten one's phobias. Grating on nerves. Fear is a four-letter word ever powerful as the word love. For even love can leave a person lost and become a fool in believing love can make the world go round when in truth, fear is the cycle that changes all things.

There are thousands of people who work in the darkness in cities all across the world. Some have important work to be done, others, not so important. Police and fire-fighters, air-traffic and underground railway controllers, hospital staff; all important.

Strippers, hookers, junkies, and the homeless, not so important.

The waitress trying to support two kids on her own: to her, important.

To me, I see her as just doing her job. It all depends on how you look at things, at people, at what they do.

Tonight, however, isn’t a book. There will be no movie to attend. Tonight, will be like any other night when the moon is high and full, and the night sky filled with tiny sparkling lights.

If you live in the country, the night holds sounds of whistling wind, chirping sounds of whippoorwills, the hooting of an owl, and every now and then, a car passing by unseen, except for its twin eyes of brightness.

If you live in the city, the noises are many. Passing cars that roar by in egotistical fashion, horns blaring, cab drivers cursing, other people yelling or laughing, a gunshot somewhere signaling the end of a life, all while walking the streets in the darkness.

Many businesses open all night; the restaurants, corner stores and gas stations, night clubs; everything lit up in bright lights, conducting business as usual, and why shouldn’t they? They are there to make money; not to be concerned about anything else that happens in the darkness surrounding what they do.

It is on a night such as this that invades the lives of strangers. Those people you don’t know, people you would never meet, at least not right now. You may come across them in the shadows of another night, and that, would be a pity for you, but a blessing for me.

Linda left Happy Burger just past eleven like she always does on weekend nights and was making her five block walk home like she always did. Like always, she was so glad the weekend was over so she could relax tomorrow, maybe sleep in late, and later she would tend to her small flower garden.

Linda has no personal life. Late forties, heavyset, not all that attractive, and truth be told, her social skills left much to be desired.

On this night, as with all other nights after work, she crossed over Mullen Drive to McVey Street, walked past an alleyway, only this time, she thought she could hear heavy breathing as if right next to, or behind her. Stopping long enough to take a quick look around and not seeing anything and heard nothing more than her own breathing. A bit taken aback by this, she managed to shake it off and continued her walk home.

After going another thirty feet, she felt, rather than heard, a shudder in the air, and thought she saw a shadow float past her.

Not daring to look back this time, she quickened her pace, fearful there may be an attacker close by. Her hand reaches inside her purse for a small spray tube of mace. Her eyes were filling with fear, but she knows not to run, afraid of giving herself away.

She starts to breathe a sigh of relief when she reaches the block where her apartment is. Linda is only five houses away when she hears a voice come from behind her.

“Why do you fear the dark? Why do you fear me, Linda?”

Such a calming voice.

Linda stopped. She didn’t recognize the voice, but the voice knew her. She turned and looked at the face of the voice. A face somewhat shrouded in darkness.

“Do I know you?”

“No, but soon, you will. Look deeply into my eyes, Linda. Step closer. Do not be afraid. Tonight, you live for me.”

At first, Linda was frightened, but there was something about this man that set her mind at ease. Her hand released the tube of mace and it fell to the sidewalk. She smiled at him.

Although this man was dressed differently from other men she has seen, she felt compelled to do as he requested; or was told. She wasn’t sure which. It didn’t matter. Linda stared intently into his eyes.

His eyes held her rooted to one spot. She could feel her chest rising and falling in an unexpected lustful expectation of what was to come. The next timeless moment found her with her arms stretched out in anticipation, of longing, and all of her private desires that never happened to her in real life, came out to finally be fulfilled.

“That’s it, release yourself. Come to me, Linda. Bare yourself that I may taste freely of your desire for me.”

Linda walked right up to the tall man with jet black hair, whose clothes were just as black, and his eyes piercing her soul. She pressed her two-fifty-pound frame tightly against him.

He pulled her hair away from her face and neck and stared intently into her eyes as if searching for her soul he wanted to save, to control for himself. Searching out her soul to destroy. Searching out her soul so he may live.

Leaning against her, he opened his mouth, baring his teeth, his black dead eyes locked onto the white thickness of her fleshy throat, and he clamped down hard and began to draw out the life force energy, the bitter-sweet nourishment he has craved for untold centuries.

Linda’s sex life had never been that great with only a total of three men she had ever been in bed with. This time, she gave out a faint gasping sound, but not from pain, but pure sensual pleasure. She felt as if she had encountered the best sex imaginable and didn't want it to end.

He tasted her for several more seconds, then released her. Placing his hand over her neck, he covered the twin marks of his passion with his dark powers of magic, and then vanished.

When Linda came out of her trance, she felt strange, almost giddy, and wondered why she was standing in the middle of the block when her apartment was but a few short feet away.

Never remembering she dropped her tube of mace, she continued home. After she showered, watched a little of the news, she went to bed.

Her dreams were filled with the most satisfying sex of her life, which, truth be told, was never all that enjoyable.

That night, she also dreamed of a tall, powerful man in black.

Linda became one of many in a new line of power.

The night continued to move on when he brought three more to his fold as he had Linda. They were to be part of a new legion unlike anything seen, felt, or heard of before. A power no mere mortal, no physical power on earth could stop.

Sitting atop a tall building gazing out over the lights that held an unsuspecting city, he marveled at the sheer simplicity of it all.

How easy this has been for me. I have been nothing more than a story, a piece of fiction to many, a fairy tale conjured up by the mind of that drunken, drug-filled demented writer, Stoker, who thought me to be an excellent way to garner him a career as a writer and gain fame. Strangely enough, it did.

Then he screamed out his rage.

“I am not fiction! I am of Life after Death! I control what others cannot. No, these humans have no true knowledge of what I am genuinely like. Wooden stakes driven into the heart? Hardly. How can the walking dead have a beating heart? Light only weakens me in small ways, but it cannot burn away my flesh and turn me into ashes, and the crucifix? I did not believe in life there was a God, and in my present state, I believe even less. If there were a God, he wouldn’t allow me to have lived thousands of years as I have.

"Once, I was a child born to a poor set of struggling parents who barely had food for one yet alone an entire family. It was then I lived in a terrible darkness I didn't know how to get away from.

"Once, I was a petty thief, stealing scraps of food to just survive. Hoping one day to make a name for myself. To be someone important and looked to for guidance. That day came but not how I expected it to be. The glamour died the day the baby was born.

“It was that child. That child who rained down this curse over me. I was nothing more than a thief then. It was late, and not very many people were nearby when he was born. A few shepherds and the boy's parents There were small trundles of incense and gold lying just within the barn and within my reach. It was my ticket to wealth. I grabbed them quickly and ran. How was I supposed to know this child was to be the Son of God?

I crossed a line that night I could never change. From that moment I was both doomed and damned, but I adapted.

“This is my torture for that single moment. No, I can never die, never be killed, that is, not until all the blood in the world has been emptied into my veins, or, until the final days of the world arrives.

“That which mankind calls God has punished me in a way no human should be punished. I have become a messenger of death. I am the true macabre.

"How so? The very first night, the craving for blood was strong. So strong, I took the lives of my parents, two brothers and a sister, I feasted and when I didn't think I had enough, the urgency returned and took the lives of stranger's. It didn't matter who they were or their stature.

“But I am creating a new legion. I am the apocalypse. This is how I see myself. One day, those who follow me, shall see me as their ultimate savior to a never-ending life for thousands of years to come.

God changed me and only he can put an end to all this, but he stays far away from me. It's as if he fears me more than I do him. It's both sad and funny. He has the power to end all this and yet, he allows me to do as I w3ish. As I choose. Free will. Free choice.

“If mankind knew the truth, they would surely tremble. I am the true vampire of the night who walks among you by day. Many countries around the world same my name in their language. My personal favorite is Drakul, a Serbian word.

“I am the reality of all words written about me, and I shall be forever, until forever dies.

“My passions, my desires, all flow through the blood that comes in those few sweet seconds when my thirst is satiated. Those I choose will help me to maintain my desires. They will be as I, but forever in my bondage of blood-wielding lust. They will be my eyes and ears both day and night. They will be where I cannot. They too shall feed on the many I cannot reach. They will also become my reserve to feed off of, when my hunger strikes deepest.”

Looking down at the city night, he spies another who stands on a corner.

“She shall be most fitting. She walks the night as I do, in search of pleasure, but hers is found in money. After tonight, money will no longer matter.”

And he went to her, and she readily gave into his demonic desire as he took from her flesh and feasted with willful gluttony.

Her name was Goldie. Goldie had been a hooker for almost twelve years. When the man dressed in black appeared in front of her, she thought nothing of the way he was dressed, or his soothing accent. Over the years she had had a great deal of strange customers. She did, however, find him extremely handsome.

Goldie didn’t understand the truth of his looks until it was too late. By then she no longer cared.

Tonight, and every night to follow, every customer she picked up would be hooked. She coined a new phrase for what she was about to do.

“Once bitten, but never, ever shy.”

Several more women were separately linked into the new legion that night. Each had a special purpose with their new lives for their Master to live.

"Even the drunkard's were at my mercy. Once I feasted, the only thing they wanted to drink was the blood from other unsuspecting fools."

Before the moon waned away, he sat on the edge of a tall building, looking down with the most sinister of smiles, nodding his head lightly at this new beginning, his army.

As light surfaced, as a warm orangish sun crept atop other buildings, he sailed effortlessly to the city streets and transformed his appearance from the black of night into that of a blind beggar. He always felt a twinge of weakness during this time, but by shielding his eyes with dark sunglasses, his life would continue.

His eyes were the only weakness by day. Behind the sunglasses, they would provide him protection from the sun’s rays, and he wouldn’t lose his power to control.

For the rest of this day, he would just sit against a wall, beg for money, and read the thoughts of passerby’s. Read those minds who were the weakest and visit those few tonight.

What of tomorrow?

Tomorrow he would begin in another city, then another and another until he has infected the world. Then he shall have his way at will.

This is real. This time the end of life is at hand. This time, life is beginning to end, and he knows he cannot be stopped.

He is the biblical Armageddon. He is the Apocalypse.

Night after night passed from cities visited, and in every city he began anew. Hundreds are already doing his bidding, adding thousands to the countless new legion building.

He believed this to be the true wealth. Where once he struggled for survival, now he can relish in knowing he has conquered and mastered all the things that went wrong in his life and that his time is at hand.

Though not seen, the handwriting is on the wall and make no mistake, he has but one commandment. Do unto others, over and over.

How bittersweet is this moment. Driven by a passion greater than mankind could ever fathom.

Blood flowed between his pale lips, and he savored each drop.

His eyes burned with a power no one could ever defeat.

He is coming for you one day to lift you from a life of despair and false hope.

Beware, Desmodus Draculae lives.

You won’t when he comes for you. And you will thank him for your new life.

Whatever fears you had, will vanish. Whatever expectations you envisioned will disappear. The road to a dead life is the only life you will come to cherish and that will be the only thing you love. The only thing you will need.

All you have ever learned, ever been taught will be far, far away. surrounded in forgotten dreams and hopes

Remember and never forget what I give you. A true everlasting life without worry, without care. No ridicule, no fear.

Embrace what is to come and become one of the true sons and daughters in the fight to have that which you can find nowhere else. True abiding life lived like never before.

Do as I ask, and all your fears and worries will be left behind you. Fail me and I will drink your existence away until all that remains is the dust of your flesh scattered with the winds of time.

No, there are no other choices when I bring you in the fold. I am the only truth, the only light you will ever see in the darkness.

Walk with me and you will be rewarded.

Desmodus Draculae is your true father.