I present the following. The opening to a short story I’m writing, off and on. I hope you hate it.
“I know what you are,” Sarah breathed, moving her lips closer to his.
“Say it,” Malcolm grinned. His breath felt icy, as it glazed her skin.
Had she been given another second, or so, she could have probably answered his question. She knew what he was. He was a vampire—a very hot vampire. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by an explosion of red and black, as her beloved’s head split in two.
Malcom’s expression changed from romantic love, to unbridled hate, as he spun around. She backed up slowly, as she saw a massive axe sticking out of his head. Black blood came streaming down his cheeks. He let loose a brutal roar, as he searched for the source of the attack.
“Now, there’s no need for that,” a female voice said from the tree line. “You’re just going to tire yourself out, before we get to the real fun.”
A woman, about mid-30s, stepped out from the trees, and walked into the clearing. She was dressed in brown leather, with a royal-purple cloak hanging from her shoulders. She wore a sword across her back, and her belt held about five wooden stakes, sharpened to a fine point. She walked toward them, holding a shiny, metal gun pointed directly at Malcolm.
The woman turned her head toward Sarah. “Are you alright, dear?”
Sarah shot back an angry, dissatisfied stare, but said nothing.
“That’s nice,” the woman replied, turning back toward Malcolm. “So, how do you want to do this? Do you want me to just shoot you? Or do you want a chance to fight?”
Malcolm reached up and grasped the handle of the axe. With a growl, he wrenched the axe free, and tossed it to the side. Almost immediately, his skin began to heal and mend, until only his perfect face remained.
“I see,” the woman said. She tossed the gun to the side. “Okay, then, let’s fight.”
She drew the sword off of her back, and held it forward. Malcolm dashed forward, in a blur, and lunged at the woman. She side-stepped the attack, and brought her sword down across the neck of the charging vampire. The sharpened blade sliced through his neck in one cut, sending his head rolling to the edge of the clearing.
“Disappointing,” the woman replied, as the vampire’s body slumped to its knees, and then fell over. The woman leaned down and rolled the body over on its back. She removed one of the stakes from her belt and held it high.
Sarah’s eyes went wide, as the woman brought the stake down, plunging it into the heart of Malcolm. His body exploded into dust, which slowly settled on the grass around them.
The woman began humming, as she pulled out a rag and wiped her sword clean, before sheathing it. She walked over to where Malcolm had thrown the axe, and picked up the weapon. Her face grimaced, as she looked at the blade, which the black blood was eating away.
“Dang,” she said. “This was my favorite axe.”
She tossed the weapon away, and then went and retrieved her gun. After checking to make sure the safety was on, she dropped it into a holster at her side. Her humming stopped, as a light of recognition crossed her face. She turned toward Sarah.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “I forgot about you. Are you alright?”
“You—You killed Malcolm!”
“Was that his name?” The woman shrugged. “I never know their names. They’re always just vampires to me. Sometimes, if there’s more than one, I’ll label them Vampire A and Vampire B. Or I’ll sometimes use numbers if there’re more than 26 of them.”
“You killed my beloved!” Sarah screamed as she scrambled forward, bringing her fists down across the chest of the other woman. “You killed him!”
“It had to be done, dear,” the woman replied. “He was going to eat you.”
“He loved me!”
“He loved your blood,” the woman said. “And perhaps the taste of your flesh. But, there was nothing romantic about his intentions.”
“Stop being stupid, girl,” the woman replied. “Vampires are monsters, who survive off of sucking the blood out of humans. Have you ever tried to live without your blood? It’s very, very hard. Some might say it’s impossible!”
“I’m going to kill you!” Sarah screamed, her voice reaching an unimaginable pitch.
“Not likely,” the woman answered. “I have a sword. And a gun. And you may not be a vampire, but I’m reasonably sure these wooden stakes would still hurt you.”
“I don’t care!” Sarah screamed. “I’d rather die, than live without Malcolm!”
“Well, there’s no need to be so dramatic,” the woman sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You’re still young. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to love. And probably half of them won’t even try to bite your neck–you know, unless you’re into that sort of thing. I don’t judge.”
At some point, I will finish it. And if you didn’t hate it now, you probably will then.