Lorna shoved a couple more tee shirts into her bag then zipped it up and threw it over her shoulder.
“I’m out of here asshole,” she whispered under her breath.
There would be no more living off of his scraps and doing what he told her to do. She needed a new environment. She needed a life with fresh cut flowers, books that weren’t classics or literature, and mostly a life where she didn’t need to “entertain” or depend on his friends.
Ten years later.
It was always a joy to have Beth and Ionia over. They’d been brave and left what she called “The Cult” before her. Now they are friends, not sisters. They were their own women, and not his. They sure as hell weren’t his brides.
At first, they thought they couldn’t escape. He told them over and over that they’d die without him. He told them nobody would love them like he did. He told them that nobody would accept them like he did.
Beth was the first to go. She seduced a visitor at the ancestral home of their lord and master and begged him to take her away. The next day she was off on a private jet to Vienna.
A year later, in the wee hours of the morning, just as before sun came up, Ionia left, taking the electric car so he wouldn’t hear.
That left Lorna. He showered her with affection. He made love to her wonderful ways she could never imagined. Yet she was still a prisoner. She was still there against her will. She was still under his spell.
He locked up the car keys. He took away her phone. He took away the luggage, her comfortable shoes, her address book, and her travel mug.
One day, while he was in the shower, she left on foot (in heels no less) and walked for miles to town where she was able to take a train, and eventually end up in her house with the view of the Pacific Ocean.
There she discovered that the warm sunshine wouldn’t hurt her as long as she wore sunscreen. She learned the joys of finding her own fresh food. She visited art museums, read genera fiction, and took long solo walks on the beach. She even dated men who were like her, and not possessive and weird like him.
Beth sat back on the blue and yellow couch and looked around the room filled with flowers and bright colored art. “I love what you’d done to the place Lorna. It is so you.”
“We finally escaped. All of us. I love you two so much,” said Ionia.
“I heard that he just sits in his musty old castle and sulks now. He talks trash about us to everyone, but they know how it was for us. They know what a gross disgusting fiend he is,” said Lorna. “Let’s toast to our freedom, and the knowledge that we’ll never have to see that turd Dracula again.”
As they raised their goblets of spiced and iced blood and celebrated their freedom, far away in a dark castle a lone Vampire brooded and felt sorry for himself. He went online and searched their names. Nothing. He tried to connect with them through his powerful mind. Nothing. Then he took a shallow breath and picked at his fangs with a long fingernail.
“I gave them everything,” he mumbled to himself as he crawled into his coffin and closed the lid.
~ end
I wrote this in a few minutes over half a cup of cold coffee. Thank you for stopping by. Come back soon for more new posts and new short stories.
~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman
Vampire Maman 