Happy is he who...writes from the love of imparting certain thoughts and not from the necessity of sale-who writes always to the unknown friend.

Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)





Friday, October 5, 2012

Entry # A24


"The Coffin-Cage"
by
Sherrill Willis

I can hear them coming, closer, I could hear their axes clinking against the chains they bring with them to do their dark deed. They do not know what they are releasing, thinking only of the money my limbs, my organs will bring them. Smiling, I welcome their hushed reminders to do this quietly and quickly.

“I think I got the lock off, here, take one side and we can lift the cage off the coffin. Did you bring the other lock?”

“Of course I did! On three – one, two, THREE!” the man cried, and the sound of screeching metal rent the air as the cage was lifted and scraped across the lid of my coffin.

The lid was thrown off, catching the two men by surprise. I launched out, catching the first man and tore his throat out with my teeth, his warm blood spraying his companion. The first man was not my evening meal. His friend, however, would do nicely.

“Thank you for releasing me, I have long missed human…companionship,” I said, entrancing the other man as he reclined, still, on the grass before me. I reached down, and grabbing a fistful of his jacket, pulled him to eye level. I licked my fangs and his fear was like a drug, making his heart beat faster, the smell of him as delectable as the finest Swiss chocolate. “You didn’t expect a woman, now did you?” I asked, glancing at the faded headstone. “They never did get my name right. Hear my name before you die, human, for it will be the last sound on this earth you shall hear. I am Vladamira Dracul,” I said, closing my eyes as I bit his neck, almost delicately, and sucked him dry.

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