Vampire Weekend

Saturday Night

Lyla choked. Her nose and mouth were filled with blood and dirt. Earth pressed down on her, making it impossible for her to breath. Automatically her hands moved to dig up through the blanket of earth separating her from the open air. In no time at all she was aboveground, gasping.

She was breathing, but it did nothing.

Air moved in and out of her lungs faster and faster. She grew lightheaded. She dropped to her hands and knees, spitting out the dirt in her mouth like that would stop her from suffocating in the night air.

"My queen!"

Cool liquid touched her cracked lips.

"Drink, my love."

Lyla needed no encouragement. She gulped down the liquid, barely letting it have the time to sooth her dry throat before she completely finished it. She took a deep breath and her head finally began to clear. She looked down and saw a slim hand holding the remains of a plastic pouch with a white label. The tiny volume of liquid that remained in the pouch was blood red.

Of course it was. It was blood.

Lyla jumped to her feet, dislodging the gentle hand that was resting on her back. She turned to face the smiling young man who was now standing next to her.

"You did this," she said through gritted teeth. "You-"

Her feet shifted in the dirt. She launched herself at him, her brand new fangs piercing her bottom lip as she snarled.

She was going to kill him.

The man dropped the empty blood bag and caught her upraised hands in his own. They stood braced against each other, neither of them able to overcome the other's strength.

"You converted me," Lyla snarled.

"I chose you to be my queen," the man replied. "I love you."

"You don't even know me."

Somewhere in the distance, a cow mooed. To Lyla's now vampiric hearing it sounded like the cow was right next to them. She jumped and the man took that as his opportunity to restrain her.

"I do know you," he said. "You are my heart."

"That's not weird at all," Lyla choked out. "Can't breathe."

His arm was around her neck. It was uncomfortable, to the say the least.

The man let go of her neck and wrapped both of his arms around her waist. He held her close to his chest and if anyone had been watching them it would have seemed as if they really were in love.

Being held that way gave Lyla a good view of the empty fields stretching out as far as any eye, human or vampire, could see. There were rolls of hay dotting some of the fields, but aside from that and the farmhouse at her back there were no other signs that there was anyone living in the immediate area. Her purse was gone, which meant no cell phone even if she could have gotten a signal out here. She could try running, but she was sure that the man would have no trouble catching her before she got to anywhere she could find help.

He had the speed of a vampire too.

"Let us go inside, my love, and I will show you our new home."

Lyla let him take her hand and lead her into the farmhouse.

The first thing she noticed about the house was that it smelled of blood, like it had been painted in it. Her fangs, which had shrunk down into human sized eyeteeth when the man had restrained her, extended when she smelled it.

The man turned on the light. "Mother, we're home!"

His only answer was silence.

He looked at Lyla with a smile. "Don't worry, she'll love you."

They went into the sitting room and the scent of blood that permeated the house was suddenly, horribly explained. Spread out across the carpeted floor were the remains of a middle-aged woman sitting in pools of her congealed blood. Her disembodied head was resting on the seat of an upholstered armchair.

Lyla screamed so loudly that a cat hanging around outside jumped up and ran away from the house with its fur standing on end. No matter how much she tried she couldn't look away from that poor woman.

"Hush, my love. Mother doesn't like loud noises," the man chided.

Then he turned to the horrific scene and said, "Mother, this is my queen."

The collection of body parts on the floor didn't reply.

The man smiled. "Yes, she is very beautiful."

He paused again, then said, "You are probably right, Mother. Are you tired, my love?"

Lyla started. "Y-y-yes, my king," she decided to say, praying that it was the right answer.

The man smiled at her. "Then let us retire. I will show you the rest of the house in the morning. Goodnight, Mother!"

The man sent Lyla a step ahead of him as they went up the stairs. She tried to control her shaking and failed utterly, but he either didn't notice or didn't care.

He opened the first door at the top of the stairs. It opened into a large bedroom with a queen-sized bed up against the far wall next to the windows and picture frames on every available surface. As the man led her inside Lyla saw one photo on the bookshelf that showed the man sitting with the dead woman on a wooden fence, both of them with smiles so wide that their cheeks must have ached. Another photo showed the man standing next to a tractor with an older man who looked exactly like him apart from his grey hair, the man's father.

Lyla let the man tuck her into the bed, which thankfully wasn't home to any blood or body parts. When he was asleep, she thought, she would jump out of the window and run, run as fast as she could away from this place. Her hopes were dashed when he climbed into bed beside her and held her tight to his chest.

"Goodnight, my queen. Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight," Lyla squeaked.

Despite everything, she fell asleep. Her dreams were filled with dripping blood and severed heads.