PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

1

SSSSNNNNNIIIIIFFFFFFFF!!! Light exhale. Is there nothing more satisfying than the night air. And by that, I mean the city air, not the death strangling clear country air. I am used to more putrid, sulfuric smells, so this city is like a little home away from home. A home away from home; a home never rightfully meant for me. As I keep up my shadowed shield, I walk among every creature of the night both known and unknown to you foolish mortals. I walk among them unnoticed, for a creature such as I should not be in contact with others. Am I a vampire or a vampiress? No, I am not, but I do have fangs and am as graceful and gorgeous as they. Am I a werewolf? No, I am not, but in a sense, we both share an insatiable craving for flesh. Am I a ghost, ghoul, or the undead? Yes… and no, I do love the dead, but do not rob graves. I do move with eerie, floating like steps. I am technically not living, but I do breathe, but I do not have a heart beat what so ever; I am very cold, in more ways than one. Am I a gargoyle? No, I am not, though I do move and thrive with fierceness like no other. Am I a Dark Faery? No, but we do have similar things in common, involving touch, feelings, and not being able to lie. Am I a witch, a wiccan, or a wizard? Once again, no, I am not, but I can do quite a bit of spell binding and spell bidding, to someone, not me. I am not most night creatures that you have heard of. I am not a child of Dracula or the Wolfman or a mixture of either. I do not have scales or wings, but I can fly, float, or levitate---which ever way you wish see it--- with insatiable grace. I am surely not a force to be reckoned with. So who am I, you ask? I am the only creature of my kind that still roams this earth. I am a creature that should and shall remain within the shadows of the shadows. The darkest of the dark of places. Most of my kind was either killed centuries before, killed themselves, or retreated back to their appropriate dimension, world, or realm (once again, it all depends on your prospective of things). If you have not realized what creature of night and darkness, that I am, then I shall not tell you. You shall figure it yourselves or pray it slips, from my ever tight lips.

  I look around at all the creatures of the night, all very much more attractive than your stories and myths have led you to believe over so many ignorant years. Gargoyles, for one, are not hideous creatures that sit upon old buildings, at least not at night. During the night, they are scale free and simply gorgeous, but very, very sneaky and deceptive. I smile at their work. Ghosts are solid. They may be a tad on the “bone” chilling dead side but are solid, to say the least. Ghouls and the undead are not the decaying, hideous things you believe them to be either. If you know the right witch or wizard, you can become better-looking than any super model out there, without looking as if you are an anorexic or a bulimic. And then there are witches, not all wear black you know. I have run across quite a few that wear that horrid color pink. Ugh! I swear that is where they got the idea for Glinda the Good Witch of the North! Then the wiccan, mortals but the witches take pity and teach them a few spells here, a few tricks there just so not to be as big an imposter as most your kind believes. Witches and wizards alike just… levitate and that’s that. So… are there anymore questions? Sighs. Besides wondering what creature I am. No? Smirks. Very well, then.

  I wander the streets, wishing I could go laugh and joke with old friends. They either fear me, or are dead because of me, now. It is part of this creature. A curse in my eyes. I so wish to laugh and joke with some of them, as I once had centuries ago, but I know I cannot. They all now realize what I am. They have all seen and/or felt my powers to some small, little extent. I am surely not delighted by the idea of it, but they have. I did not intend to cause them so much pain, or their untimely death. I was oblivious to what I truly was or what I was capable of, all those centuries ago. I did not know. I did not mean any harm. I did not mean any harm, and I still do not. I do not! So I now walk in my shadowed shield, as I do most nights. I only let it down to feel some company from the other creatures, even if it is brief, scarce, and fear filled. Without a small bit of their company to where they know I am there, I would go mad. I would be driven to insanity. Or more towards insanity than I am already. It is not a place I truly wish to go. I already have to be stone hearted to those around me. To not crave their touch. To not beg their attention. To not want to be a part of their conversations. That… that my mortals’ is already torture, and a curse, enough.

  I hear an old, familiar laugh to the side of me. I have no choice but to look. I cannot lie to myself and deny that I am ignorant to that sweet, familiar sound. I turn my head and see what I already knew would be there. Melarvious Myth. A true old friend. One to stick by my side up until a few decades ago when the threat upon her health and immortal life were too strong for even her to pay no heed to anymore. She said she was genuinely sorry for fleeing my side after so many centuries. She need not go any further than that. I understood completely the risks of being anywhere near me. I understood the fears she had for her life. I understood what I truly was. I understand the monster that I am. I understand how things cannot go back to the once were. I understand oh too well! We still talk on the rare occasions where I let my shield down, but it is always at a safe distance, away from most wandering and judgmental eyes. As I realize that my pace has slowed to a stop, I do not attempt to go back to my steady graceful rhythm. I stay and let down my shield, to where only she may see me. I wait for her eyes to land on me, and when they do… she smiles. Her eyes widen in surprise, and she smiles. Oh! Deep and heavy sigh. Oh, how I miss those clear, crystal blue eyes, filled with so much laughter. How I miss the soft feel of her hair that flowed down her back in a dark, emerald effortless waterfall. I missed being able to protect her from the other creatures who would attack her for her abnormally bright eyes. Others thought them weird, disgusting, a disgrace towards those of the night and the dark. I have always found them so beautiful and breathtaking.

  “Hey Sucky-Ducky!” she mouths with so much energy and enthusiasm, that I am able to hear her adorable overvescent voice. It sounds as bubbly and giggly as it was the last time I was able to see her in brief private.Sigh! Oh how I remember it. As most times, it was in a dark abandoned alley way away from most civilization:

“Sucky-Ducky!” She runs up to me and attempts to hug me.

  Sadly, I must move out of the way from her and watch her, as she stumbles and almost falls to the ground. Oh, I wish I could catch her, to hold her in my arms, but I know it will not ever be true. “Good evening, Melarvious Myth. It is a pleasure to see you again.”

  “Sucky!” she whines. “Do you always have to be so formal and old timey?”

  I smile. “I was raised in a century where speaking like this was normal. So yes, I must talk this way.”

  “Ducky!” she whines once more. “We were born around the same time! You are only three years older than I am!”

  “Yes,” I said mimicking her to a certain degree, “and you act as if you are three years old!”

  “Oh very funny Sucky-Ducky!” She places her fists on her hips and gives me her best little child pout. “And why won’t you give me my hug? I deserve my hug!” She whined and stomped her foot on ever word in that last sentence.

  I laugh at my very, very overvescent friend and give her a tiny, brief air hug. “You know very well why you are not able to get realhugs from me now.”

  “I know,” she pouts. “But I still miss it, when we did hug. Even when it did really hurt.”

  I sigh. “I know, Melarvious. I miss it, as well.”

  “Well can’t you find something or make some potion thingy and fix it.”

  I give my old, naïve friend a sad smile. “I truly wish it were that simple, my friend. I truly wish it were that simple.”

  “Well why can’t it be that simple?!”

  I had averted my attention for only a slim moment, and when I turn to look back my chipper friend, her eyes are tear-filled.

  I sigh and wipe my left hand down my face, stuffing my fists back into my pockets. “I do not know, Melarvious. I do not know.”

We share sad, knowing smiles of the memory of our last encounter, which flashed through our minds. I wasn’t able to hold her. I was not able to comfort her as she cried. I despised myself for it. I still do. She is… or was my closest friend, and I was not able to comfort her in her time of need. I was not able to extinguish her pain. The pain I caused. I was not able to douse that flame of pure hatred she felt towards me at that moment and time. Not even her tears could quench that flame. I caused that hatred. I caused that undoused flame. I caused that unquenchable flame. Though it was only those things for that night, it deeply cut. I still despise myself for making her feel those things that were so unfamiliar to her.Sigh. I wish that things could go back to the way they were centuries ago, before all this.

  I reach out to her and act as if I am stroking her cheek. “Miss Myth.” I pull back up my shadowed shield and continue along my solitary and lonely stroll. “I wish you the best.” I let those last words linger back to her and did not look back.

“Hush! Hush!” I patted my skin, as if that would help silence the demons screaming within my skin as they hungered. They screeched and squawked and cried for nourishment. They wailed and begged. They mourned and were driving me insane. “Silence you putrid curses of abominations that live with in me! Silence at once! I would rather starve you and die than feed you worthless and weak souls! If you want nourishment, then flee somewhere else! Flee to a new body! I shall assure you! You shall not be missed!” My voice boomed and reverberated through out my shield, ricocheting out of my shield only to be heard as unexplainable thunder to those within a thirty mile radius. This was part of the curse. This is the part I must go through night in and night out. Yes, I may walk the day, but that light is searing to my eyes even in dark glasses.

  The demons silenced but did not leave. They never did. They never do. They only silence out of reluctance. Deep sigh. I will not say they never leave. They only come about when I am absolutely starved for touch. They will not leave until I feed just the slightest bit.

  I sigh and step into the path of a mortal female only several yards from me and let down my shield. She was beautiful in her own way. Very curvaceous, wearing casual clothing---dark denim jeans, low cut white top, dark denim half jacket, white boots, dark auburn hair that flowed around her shoulders as effortlessly in a waterfall as Melarvious’s. My throat squeezed, my mouth went dry as this lovely young woman approached me. I studied her demeanor.  She was tall, broad, confident, independent, yet so desperate to find a true gentleman, looking for a place to stay tonight because her ex-lover kicked her out. She is too proud to call and ask for help. Sadly, this was going to be oh too easy.

  “Oh, my apologies, Miss.” I pretend to almost bump into her, and I take a step back. Once I pretend to take assessment of her face, which I already have, I tilt and my head and say, “Miss? Are you alright? You seem disgruntled.”

  She smiles up at me bashfully and runs her fingers through her hair, clearly embarrassed by being found in such a vulnerable state. “I guess you can say that I haven’t been having the best of days.”

  “Would you care to converse it over some coffee perhaps? And I assure you it is to no inconvenience to me, I was on my way down to the little café only a few blocks from here. I would be honored if you would join and grace me with your presence. Would you?”

  She was taken aback. I could tell that she was thoroughly thankful for finding a true gentleman such as me.

  “Would you care to join me, Miss?” I reiterate.

  “Julia and yes.”

  “Very well then, Miss Julia, shall we?”

  “We shall.” She smiles and walks along side of me to the café.

  Julia, she looks so much like my dear old friend Melarvious, but she is so much mature. Julia is a phenomenon on her own. She seems as if she could have been roaming this mortal earth for as long as I, but she has only been embraced with its ups and downs of life only two and a half decades. Twenty-five years old, and she has already been through so much. She has already cried more than her fair share of tears, and has definitely been with more than her fair share of horrible ill-mannered ill-treating men. She speaks of how thankful she is that she has found me. And when she reaches my home, she somewhat closes up, which is very much understandable.

She watches him as he steps out of the shower and back into the room, with only a towel wrapped around him. Wow. She had thought he looked good with clothes on, but without the inconvenience of them covering his body, he looked like a god. With skin so flawless and smooth, glistening from the shower. Her throat squeezed shut. She was nervous about sharing a bed with him. A man she had met only a couple hours ago and still did not know his name. He had bought her coffee, listened to her problems, understood and empathized with her, gave her some very helpful advise when she asked for it, and offered to give her a place to stay ’til she was back on her own two destined-to-be-independent-again feet. She laughed at his light heartedness. She embraced it and loved it. She did wonder why he hadn’t tried to touch her yet. He’d already said he found her very attractive, said he’d “let the breathtaking beauty” take the bed and he would take the couch in his one bedroom loft. She said no, that she wasn’t going to kick him out of his own bedroom. So here they were about to sleep in the same bed together. She wondered if he would try to touch her soon. For some odd reason, she sooo craved his touch.

I began to read her mind, as I exited my shower and entered back into my room, towel drying my hair. I turn to look at her from the closet, seeing her face flushed from what I knew to be the hunger she had for my touch. “Miss Julia? Are you alright?”

  “Please, call me J.J. It’s what my friends call me.”

  “I prefer to use a woman’s full name, to show them respect. I believe every name, man or woman, is both powerful and unique in their own beautiful way. So I wish to use their name accordingly, Miss Julia.” I sit down on the bed a foot and a half away from her and reiterate, “Miss Julia? Are you alright?” Her chest was beginning to heave up and down steadily, but it also seemed as if it is taking a great deal of effort to keep it at a steady pace. “Miss Julia? “

  When she finally turned to face me, her eyes were filled with hunger and desire.

  “Miss… Julia-”

  I was cut off by the sudden attack of lips and hands. My skin moaned in pleasure from her touch, and she moaned in what was now pleasure from my skin and lips but would soon turn to pain…maybe she likes pain. I pull away for a quick moment. “Miss Julia… are you sure you want to do this?”

  Her only answer. Her only reply. It was to bombard me more with her lips and her hands. My body shivered and moaned with each touch she gave me, and she took that as a sign to go farther. How ironic it is to have the woman using so much sexual force on a man, than the other way around. I did not care though. I enjoyed it for as long as I could, before the screaming began. Suddenly, I felt an unexpected draft below my waist, something tight; then my true feeding began. The bites, the kisses, the touches, they were all so heavenly to the both us. She absolutely enjoyed the pain. She said during my feed---during her pleasure--- that it was the first pain she felt that did not come from her heart. She was so pure. So delicious. She truly would be missed by all those who loved her, even by those who used her.