The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Revenge of the Vampire Mollusc
by Alex Grey

I have dragged myself this far, but I will go no further. Here I lie on the gritty sand awaiting my fate at the dubious mercy of sunrise and the tide’s turning.

Are you feeling sorry for me? Do you imagine that my fate is synonymous with my doom?

You humans are so very gullible – and ignorant.

Remember how you walked barefoot on the beach this morning? Remember how you held your lover’s hand? You turned to the dawn, its glory illuminating memories of your happy childhood and kindling your hopes for a future together.

You saw me lying on the sand and picked me up. 

“Can you hear the sea?” you’d asked him.

He’d looked bewildered. “Of course, the sea’s right there…”

“No, silly, my mother taught me – hold a shell to your ear and you will always hear the sea.”

He’d taken me from your hands and held me to your ear.

“Can you hear me say I love you?” he’d whispered.

“Yes!” you’d replied, dancing away from him, “Whenever I hold this shell,  the sea will tell me that you love me!”

Oh you poor, deluded girl. What you heard was the sound of my predatory laughter. 

“I’ll remember this moment forever.” you said, putting me in your pocket as a memento. Dazzled by your lover’s smile, you did not notice the scrape of my tiny, rasping teeth against your skin.  

Now it is nearing sunset. You lie on the sand, shivering and delirious as the toxin I shared with you invades your mind. Your lover has gone for help; though I sense that he has stopped at the bar for a quick drink. He thinks that you just have a touch of sunstroke, nothing serious.

My venom enables us to share our thoughts. I am pleased that we have some time to converse – mollusc to human – you are very pleasing and I think you deserve an explanation.. 

Did you really think that the world of the undead was populated only by humanoids? How very narrow-minded to discount the possibility that the undead have their own rich ecosystem; but then again, how much attention do you pay to your own? Of course, those humans who perceive the diversity. of the undead rarely have enough time to write legends in our name.

I see in your memories that you always loved a bedtime story. You had an active imagination, and even now you wonder whether this is all a dream. 

I assure you, this is quite real. Shall I tell you a story before you sleep?

I am a vampire. Lucky, that you chose me. I am an altogether more subtle predator. A zombie mollusc would have burrowed into your ear and feasted on your brain before you’d taken ten steps. 

There are far too many zombies in my opinion — oysters, slugs, snails — the list goes on. But given how many of our living counterparts have been killed by humans it is hardly surprising that they will rise. Wouldn’t you want revenge if you had been doused in acid and eaten alive? Then think of how many you have killed in your own garden. I admit that those whom you drowned in old beer rarely complained; but those whom you left writhing in frothy agony under a blanket of salt, all for the sake of your prize marrows? Small wonder that they seek retribution.

Ah I can hear your thoughts – if salt kills snails and sunlight kills vampires how can you survive on the beach?

I am so glad you asked.

Vampire molluscs are perfectly designed.  I have a fine brain which directs my strong foot to carry me to the best hunting grounds. My precious mucus protects me from the brine. My shell keeps me safe from the sun’s rays, though I admit it can tingle if I stay out too long.

I never stay out too long. I do not need to. 

In common with all vampires, I have an allure that humans find hard to resist. Do you remember how I shone in the soft light of the rising sun? Do you recall how smooth my shell felt as your fingertips traced my perfect contours? You were so enchanted you never even felt the quiver of my flesh as you claimed me so willingly.

Indeed, you took me for your own; now I will return the favour. 

You think your lover will save you? No doubt he will return tomorrow, but by then, you and I will have spent the night together. He will not want you when we are done. You see, I will have taken that which defines your beauty, abrading your skin mouthful by delicious mouthful. They will blame the grating sand and rolling surf for your ruination. They will not think to test for my venom. The sea will wash away all traces of my crime. The outgoing tide will carry me to another beach, another victim.  

I see tears glistening in your eyes. You are delectable. I can wait no longer for our consummation.

My foot leaves a shining silver trail as I explore your exquisite face. I sip the tears from your blue eyes; glide along the contours of your pert nose and smooth, fevered cheeks. I approach your panting mouth, admiring the delicate rose of your lips. I sense a flash of disgust, the last of your resistance, before you submit to my glamour. Your tongue seeks my vampire’s kiss and we share a sublime moment. 

You are so lovely. I might even let you die before I devour you.

Fiction © Copyright Alex Grey
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

More about Alex Grey:

After a lifetime of writing technical non-fiction, Alex Grey is fulfilling her dream of writing poems and stories that engage the reader’s emotions. Her ingredients for contentment are narrowboating, greyhounds, singing and chocolate – it’s a sweet life. Her poems and short stories have been published by a number of ezines including The Siren’s Call, Raconteur and Toasted Cheese. One of her comic poems is also available via a worldwide network of public fiction dispensers managed by French publisher, Short Edition. Alex’s original view of the world, which shines through her writing, has led to her best friend to say “For someone so lovely, you’re very twisted!”

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