The Vampire at the Party

Pure, garish monotony: swirling silks and ruffles, all in the most fashionable colors; blurred faces of lords and ladies as they circled round each other, each one seeming to merge with the next, all indistinguishable, despite their attempts to be noticed.

He alone seemed immune to this superficiality that spread through the aristocracy like a disease. His dark eyes and pale skin stood out among the red cheeks, the painted expressions; his somber suit of black and white gave the impression of a funeral, not a lavish party. He watched the guests, their dancing, their actions, their practiced conversations with haughty eyes, like a god of death presiding over a group of mere mortals; his foreboding gaze penetrated each visitor, as if deciding which to take first.

Emma couldn’t help but notice. She had never seen anyone like this before, someone who both frightened and intrigued her; a dark aura surrounded him, and though she tried to distract herself with idle discussions, he continued to draw her attention.

Strange deaths had been occurring at these parties recently, she knew, though one would never guess from the careless air of flippancy that nobles selfishly enjoyed. Young women, mostly, found dead, pale, bloodless; the more superstitious whispered of vampires, but few took them seriously. But, now…looking at this man…Emma couldn’t help but wonder…

“M-my lady?”

She gasped as her mind quickly returned to the present, turning to see who had interrupted her thoughts: a young fop, about her age, his face a bright crimson, grey eyes cast down in embarrassment.

“Forgive me, my lady, but…may I please have this dance? I would greatly appreciate it…”

She gazed over her shoulder, back at the solemn stranger, and almost refused; however, the newcomer’s pathetic, heartbroken expression was too much to bear, and she felt compelled to indulge him this once. He grinned at her acceptance, clumsily bowing before her and offering her a white-gloved hand.

The two spun around the dance floor in dizzying circles; the boy tried to talk, and Emma tried to listen, smiling, nodding, laughing at what she hoped were the right times, but her mind refused to leave the man in black. It was almost as if he were calling to her: “that’s right, little girl, come to me, if you dare…”

Maybe he really was some kind of monster, and this was how he attracted his victims—maybe she had already been caught in some trap…She unconsciously glanced his way…

The man’s head suddenly jerked upward, his eyes locking onto hers, a hidden danger darkening his face. Emma broke away from her partner, face flushed, and pushed her way through the crowded couples, rushing onto the terrace through the nearest French window. A hand on her heart, she took several deep, deliberate breaths, allowing the cool night’s breeze to soothe her frazzled nerves. Being ridiculous, she told herself. Vampires…there’s no such thing…

A light touch on her shoulder. Her heart froze.

“My lady? Are you alright?” the fop questioned, concerned, and she slowly came back to her senses, her heart resuming its natural rhythm.

“Oh…yes…I just got a little claustrophobic, that’s all. I’ll be fine in a moment. Please, just…stay with me?”

“Of course, my lady. Whatever you wish.”

Taking her arm, the two walked around the house, stopping in a gaudy little garden on the other side, littered with all the most popular flowers and decorations; they both rested on a stone bench, the fop maintaining perfect posture, while Emma leaned, unladylike, against the tree behind them. She felt slightly better now, with her new-found bodyguard there to protect her, but something still didn’t seem right: she could still feel the stranger’s dark eyes on her, as if he were lurking in every shadow, just waiting for the right moment.

She stood up; the fop followed suit, confused.

“I’m terribly sorry, but I really should be going now. I’ve had a very nice night with you, but I’m afraid I’m not feeling very well, and…” she trailed off and turned to leave, but the fop caught her hand.

“No, please, stay. I’d like to get to know you better,” he smiled.

“Maybe some other time, I really can’t…”

She stopped, watching the boy as he lifted her hand to his mouth, softly placing several kisses on it. She blushed, flattered, but the urge to run still flooded her veins; she tried to pull her hand from his grasp, but he would not allow it. Instead, he turned it over, lavishing a few kisses on her soft palm, before sinking his teeth into the silky skin of her wrist. She gasped, struggled to free herself, tried to scream; but, with every passing moment, the fop drank in more of her blood, more of her energy, more of her will, and she could do nothing more than helplessly, soundlessly sink to the ground.

Finally, the vampire abandoned her limp, lifeless wrist; he smiled down at her motionless corpse as he pulled a lace handkerchief from his pocket, wiping a few crimson drops from the corners of his mouth.

“Appearances can be deceiving, my lady,” he mocked, casting his handkerchief over her face, and turning back towards the party. He had done well, to follow that black-garbed gentleman here tonight; the women seemed to fear him most, and what better way to get close to a woman that to pretend to protect her?

He resumed his false, clumsy air as he slipped back through the French window; no one noticed that Emma did not return with him. His appetite not yet sated, he stole back into the crowd, searching for his next victim…

Four corpses, including Emma’s, were found the next morning. When questioned by the police, most people reported only that they had seen a strange man in black that gave them an eerie feeling. The fop was never mentioned, or even noted as existing.