Lord Motte's Vampire Bride - Version 1

Prologue - Childhood

*Cynthia pictured above*

During the nonsensical happenings of my childhood, I often imagined a figure that I could not see. A mysterious vampire, I think. A lord of some sort. An impenetrable figure who lived in the grandest house I had ever seen, surrounded by an entire tree line of blackened trees. In the front of the property, a large pond lay,  surrounded by cherry trees and centred with an angel statue covered in vines from being unkempt. 

My mother brushed it off as an overactive imagination. A figure I used to terrify myself when I slept. Nightmare after nightmare of being sliced open and fed off of by needle-sharp teeth after entering the said house and encountering that dark figure. 

She had caught me watching a horror movie like that once and scolded me. The movie became the scapegoat for all nightmares alike, vampire involved or not. Though...I do have to admit, all my dreams did involve this dark, unseen vampire even before then. 

He terrified me, but somehow I knew I could be strong enough to face him. I didn't have anything to fear as long as I had my wits, and my wits were the one trait I took pride in as I grew older. Everyone can have beauty, or smarts if they try hard enough studying for their math quiz. You can even have physical strength on your side to get you out of certain situations, but wits are not something to be taken for granted. They win battles too.

Eventually, as I grew older, I grew farther away from my friends and family. They didn't have much in common with me, nor I with them. I felt like I was from another century and dropped in this existence from another time and location. On top of that, I was an only child, an accident when my mother was in high school but she couldn't bear to put me up for adoption at the time. She grew attached to me even though my father did not stick around to help raise me. 

I am almost certain she wishes she did. She never knew what to do with me or relate to me.

I am like an alien to her; something of a different species who do nothing but push her away and confuse her as she struggles to raise me, empathize with me. She can do nothing but look at me with confusion, and sometimes hate for the way I have inhibited her life.

It isn't something that hurts me anymore. We simply don't belong together as a family. I must be more like my father, the man whom I have never met. When my mother found out she was pregnant she didn't know his name and she cursed herself for being so foolish not to even grab his number. She had to do it all on her own, with no knowledge of what to expect when his offspring would be brought into the world. 

She even brought me into a cycle of nonstop therapy to fully understand this obsession I had developed about this man I claimed to be a vampire. 

Many theories came about...I have idolized this mysterious figure to replace the father-figure I lacked. Or, the classic, stop letting her watch horror movies. Or, the even better classic, she'll grow out of it, it's merely a temporary phase due to a crazy imagination. 

We came to a consensus eventually on the vampire obsession. I told her more of the man one day when she was washing dishes, and she shocked me with the information I couldn't believe to be true. 

"Actually, that story does sound familiar. It's the Legend of Lord Motte." 

"What does the legend say?" I inquired shakily, dreading the details. 

"Lord Motte is an immortal who lives alone, brideless and loveless. Some say he was too picky to ever settle on a girl when he was young...others say he lost the love of his life long ago. Those that dare to come to his castle can either prove themselves to be his bride to be, or they can be his next meal. They say he has killed every single girl who's tried, slicing her in half with a needle sword so thin, you can't even feel it sliding through your body until you're already severed in two." She murmured the details carelessly. "Then, he'll suck her dry and wait for the next one, I suppose." 

"So...he is a vampire?" I stuttered out the words as calmly as I could. The details matched perfectly according to what I knew of him in my younger years.

"So they say, but I believe he doesn't like to call himself that." My mother laughs. "Just a silly tale of a mythical creature, Cynthia. Don't take the legend so seriously. Though, that does explain things. You likely must have heard that legend somewhere and it got lodged in your head, silly girl." 

"No, of course. I must have heard it when I was a kid." I concluded aloud, briefly accepting that was all it was. A legend went wildly wrong in my head. 

"Ah! Mystery solved!" Mother raised her hands in relief. "Praise the Lord! We're finally putting that ridiculous obsession to rest. Nothing but a Legend, sweetie." She turned to me then, her hands on her hips. "I hope you know that." 

"I do," I had reassured her. "Nothing but a child gone wild over a meaningless story." 

*          *          *          *          *          *           *

When I graduated high school, I left home on a split decision. My mother got a proper goodbye, but a quick one, with an unsaid promise she likely wouldn't see me again for years - if at all. 

She didn't mind, and neither did I. 

After two years of college, I took up a career in freelance photography. I made enough to get by, and I don't even have the need for a permanent home. I rent an apartment now and again, but never for long. Motels and hotels are my true calling as well as the open road in whatever car I have at the time. 

It's absolutely blissful and vampireless.

Though due to one detail about that legend, my mother neglected to mention, it won't stay that way for long. 

His victims dream of his mansion. That's how they're lured in.