Twittering Tales challenge is hosted by Kat Myrman at like mercury colliding… The goal is to write a twitter-length story, in 140 characters or less. You can see the challenge HERE. I had a busy week (paperwork is the worst!) but now I’m finally able to post my story. 🙂
She lives surrounded by the sea. Earth makes her uneasy, the home of slimy creatures that are even now devouring the flesh of her victims.
(138 characters)
Time for another Twittering Tale! This challenge is created by Kat Myrman at Like Mercury Colliding… and it’s very fun! 🙂 Each Tuesday, she provides a prompt, and your mission is to tell a story based on that prompt in 140 characters or less. You can go and take a look at this week’s promt HERE.
The promt image this week was:
And here is my story:
She poured him wine. Her glass was already full, with a liquid too dark and thick. He failed to notice that, or the fangs beneath her lips.
(139 characters)
It would come at night and steal children. It would sneak into our village and into our homes, no matter what we did to prevent it. Somehow, it would always find a way. We sent people to the woods, on a hunt, almost every night. Nothing was ever caught or even seen.
But in the end, every it turns out to be a human.
They dragged our neighbour, Mr Hal, out into the street. He was on the ground, on his knees, making a manic laughing noise. My parents didn’t want to tell me what had happened, but I knew what all the blood meant. His hands were dark red, and they dripped on his clothes. His mouth was red, too. He was it. They caught him. They didn’t let us children enter his home, but I was disgusted nonetheless. I couldn’t help but imagine it all, his teeth tearing apart the body of Mrs Alanna’s baby, and many babies before. A cannibal among us. A baby-eater.
“Where are the bodies of other children?” a man screamed at Mr Hal.
“How did you get into our homes?” another shouted.
They wanted answers. Without them, they felt even more wounded, helpless. Could one of us really be the monster we feared? Everyone was too disturbed to pay attention to me, so I managed to get closer. Mr Hal laughed at the questions, his eyes darkened by a glow of insanity. How was he able to trick us all, to hide his true face?
“Where are the remains of our children?” a woman cried.
For a moment, Mr Hal’s eyes cleared, his face turned pale.
“I don’t know,” he growled. “I only killed one!”
“You’re lying!” a man kicked him hard and Mr Hal fell to the ground.
The village justice was quick. One of the women who lost a child was the first to throw a stone. Another followed. Mr Hal laughed and laughed, until he stopped – forever.
The night came and we all went to our homes in silence. Nobody wanted to speak about what had happened. The monster was gone but we knew would not be able to sleep. I went to my room, got into the bed, but kept looking through the window. A dark feeling pressed my chest and didn’t let me fall asleep. I looked at the small hills through my window, at the trees and the woods. I looked until it seemed to me that I saw something there…
On top of a little hill, two creatures sat. The larger one smiled, and said:
“And that, my darling daughter, is how they stop hunting you.”
You jabbed the knife straight through my heart. Heart – how convenient that is. You could’ve also stuck it to my back, the back-stabbing creature you are. To be fair, you were trying to save your life. Just as you did that night in the forest.
Come with me tonight, you said, I’ll embrace you underneath the moonlight and we will watch the starry sky. You can never see the stars in the city, it is only in the forest that magic happens.
You always knew how to choose the best words, how to persuade. And you did speak the truth. Magic did happen, but of a dark, twisted kind. That was when you stabbed my heart for the first time, the only time it really hurt. When the creatures came, you ran away. You saw me fall, but you didn’t stop. You just ran, saving your life, and giving mine to them.
But I came back. And now you scream, as you see that your stabbing cannot make me bleed anymore.
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
We have all met Pain.
It comes to all of us, wearing different disguises.
Sometimes it is hidden in heartbreak, disappointment, abandonment, loneliness.
It can also come abruptly, underneath the mask of loss.
Or it can sneak inside our minds in form of fear; common fears and unusual phobias.
And sometimes, just sometimes, it is the pain of sharp teeth and claws of a monster tearing your body apart.
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
“My lady!” Frederic gasped.
Frederic had been a servant for the Tormount family for many years. He had seen many Tormount children grow and become adults, slowly before his eyes. And never in his years of service had he felt as afraid for one of them as he felt that night.
Lady Gemma was dripping wet, her golden hair seemed almost grey, and something behind her clever eyes seemed broken. She had been gone for three days, disappeared without a trace, during the night. Nobody knew what happened. Until this night, when just after the clock struck three times, he had heard the knocking on the door. Weak, silent knocking that someone less attentive would probably not hear. He had shuddered as he opened the door. Three o’clock, the witching hour, never brings anything good, he had thought to himself. But sometimes, even Frederic could be wrong. The night brought his dear lady back.
“Where have you been?” Frederic cried out, but he knew he would not get an answer.
Lady Gemma almost fell to the ground, but he caught her with the swiftness of a young man. He took her in his arms, as if she were a child again, and stepped inside the mansion to carry her to her bed.
The household had already awakened. Master Edmund and his wife were standing on top of the stairs in their night robes, their eyes heavy and their minds not yet aware of what was going on. The mistress was the first to run down the stairs.
“Gemma! Oh, my, Gemma is home!” she screamed.
“What’s happened?” the master stood motionless, unable to follow his wife downstairs.
“I don’t know. I heard the knocking and went to open the door…” Frederic started.
“Did she say anything?” the mistress’ hands trembled as she removed the wet hair from her daughter’s face.
“No,” Frederic replied. “We must take her to her room. Warm her up.”
The mistress nodded. Frederic carried Gemma to her room and she followed him. The master soon joined them, together with the two servant girls.
Everyone was silent, doing the best they knew to get the lady dry and warm. The girls bathed her in warm water, dressed her and put her in bed, while the others waited. The mistress then approached her daughter and covered her in warm white sheets.
“She doesn’t have a fever. That’s a good sign,” said one of the girls.
“Yes, yes…” the mistress had retained her strength for days, but now she started to cry.
“We must look after her through the night. Not leave her sight,” the master said.
“Of course. The girls can stay here until the morning,” Frederic said and looked at the girls who nodded in agreement.
“I’ll stay as well!” the mistress said. “I can’t leave her.”
The master approached his wife and patted her shoulder.
“If anything changes call me immediately. I don’t think I will be sleeping anyway,” he told her.
“I hope nothing horrible happened to her… She doesn’t seem harmed,” the mistress mumbled, as if she didn’t want to say it out loud.
“We’ll know more tomorrow. Now it’s important to let her rest. She’s obviously exhausted.”
The master left the room and Frederic followed him. In silence, they went each to his own room. They both knew they would wait for morning with eyes wide open. Frederic watched as the pale light of his master’s candle disappeared down the hallway. The mansion always looked different in the dark. It seemed less luxurious and felt less like home.
The door screaked as Frederic closed them. His room was small, but tidy. Tidiness always gave him comfort, made him feel like all is good with the world. Everything can be arranged and all broken things could be fixed. This time, it only reminded him how little his room resembled the real world. He had seen many injustices, many evils. All he could hope for was that none of those horrible things would touch those he cared about.
And then, he heard a scream. Piercing, loud, short. Everything was silent in the very next moment. Without really knowing what he was doing, Frederic ran to lady Gemma’s room. He opened the door, without knocking, something he would ordinarily never do. And then he realized what had happened.
The window was open, and the bed empty. The once white sheets were soaked in crimson, the floor covered in red. Three women lied, their bodies contorted, their eyes opened but blank. Just dead meat left of what used to be the mistress and two young servant girls. Their throats have been cut. A massacre.
They were back. Frederic didn’t think it would happen, but it has. He had to find them, end them. He had to catch his lady as well, his little girl, Gemma of the golden hair. And he had to hurry. No time to think. The master must’ve heard the scream and is coming towards the room.
Frederic growled, in anger and in pain, and his pointed, ivory teeth showed. The witching hour had passed, but it wasn’t witches he had to deal with anyway.
He followed the trace of moonlight and flew through the window.
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
This tag was made by Hannah booksandbeauty on Youtube, and since October, my favourite month, is in its full bloom and Halloween’s approaching, I thought it was a perfect tag to do. You can watch the original video here. Now, let’s get started!
1. Morticia Addams, the mother and a witch. – What is your favourite witch book?
The witch books by Terry Pratchett, from his Discworld series, starting with Wyrd Sisters. Terry Pratchett was a genious.
2. Gomez Addams is a loving father. – Who is your favourite fictional dad?
Arthur Weasley, from the Harry Potter series. He’s an amazing dad and an amazing person in general. Weasleys are such a great family…
3. Uncle Fester Addams can generate electricity. – What book makes you light up so much that you can’t stop yourself talking about it?
There are several… It was Harry Potter for my entire childhood. Lately, it’s The Last Man by Mary Shelley. Even though Frankenstein is one of my favourite books of all time, I’ve read this book only recently. I loved it, and I just want everyone to love it as much as I did… And that’s why I wrote a post about it. And if you like Mary Shelley and nice illustrations, just click HERE. Do it. Trust me.
4. Wednesday Addams is obsessed with death. – If you could have killed off a character in any book who would it have been?
I’m actually looking through my shelves for this one… And I really don’t know. There are some characters I hate but I still wouldn’t kill them because you need those characters as well.
5. Pugsley Addams has a vicious nature and plays nasty pranks on everyone. – Who is your favourite villain?
I’d say the Frankenstein’s monster, but he’s not really a villain. And I don’t want to say Voldemort because I mention Harry Potter too much as well. So, I’ll say Patrick Bateman from American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis. He’s horrible, and the entire book is from his perspective so it makes you feel quite disgusted and disturbed… However, I think it’s a great book, even though being inside Patrick’s head cannot be described as a pleasant experience.
6. Lurch is based on Frankenstein and a zombie. – What is your favourite adaptation (book/film) of a story?
I usually get disappointed by adaptations. But a really great one would be Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys. I’m not sure if it could be described as an adaptation, but it deals with the characters from Jane Eyre, focusing of the story of Rochester’s “crazy” wife Bertha Mason (or Antoinette). It’s just great and deals with so many themes which were never addressed in Jane Eyre. And it will make you feel so many emotions…
7. Grandmama is an old classic witch. – What is your favourite old classic horror book?
OK, I think it would be stupid to mention Frankenstein again. XD So, my second favourite would be Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu. Carmilla is amazing!
8. Show us some of your horror books.
Well, the tag was made for Youtube, but I decided to actually show them anyway. Some of these are not really horror, but they have some horror elements and are often classified as such.
9. What are you going as for Halloween this year?
We don’t actually celebrate Halloween in my country. For the last decade or so there are some Halloween parties organized in my town, but it’s not really a part of our tradition. I do like the idea of Halloween and my friends and I did dress up a couple of times. We were the Addams family once, actually XD We don’t have anything planned for this year yet.
10. Favourite Halloween films!
The Addams Family, of course. XD I also love The Nightmare Before Christmas, The Corpse Bride, Frankenweenie… Creepy and cute at the same time, it’s just my kind of thing. When it comes to horror films, I’d suggest a Korean one because I don’t think many people know about it – The Tale of Two Sisters. It’s really creepy, and it will leave you wondering what had actually happened.
So, hope this was fun for you. And happy Halloween! 🙂
Everyone in my town avoids me. They will never forget that I murdered a young girl when I was only 11 years old. I don’t quite remember my crime, just glimpses of dispersed images. I don’t know what possessed me to do it, and I’m certain I’d never seen the girl before the night she ended in a puddle of her blood.
“You’ re a minor. If you admit it, you won’t go to a real prison”, my father said.
I remember the bloody axe in my hands and the smudged, red fingers. I’ve never taken an axe in my hands after that.
And this is why today is a hard day for me. I wanted to escape my small town, to start a life elsewhere. I went to college and hoped I’d never return again. The problem was I couldn’t concentrate on my studies. I could never hold my thoughts in order, and flashes of images, always ending in axes and blood, would fill my head and refuse to leave. I also couldn’t help but remember the boys at the correctional, boys who always hit one another, but they mostly hit me, because I was weak. They did it when no one would see. That’s why I couldn’t pass my exams and I had to return home, defeated. Now I live with my parents again and I have to bear their looks of disappointment. Even fear. They don’t really consider me to be their son. Mother always smiles sadly at me and we can never keep long conversations. Father doesn’t even try to speak to me. He refuses to look me in the eyes. I don’t deserve to complain, I know, but I can’t help feeling desperate.
I digress too much. I was telling you that today’s a hard day for me. That’s because I’m looking for a job. And the only job offering in this remote town seems to be – a lumberjack. I don’t want to ask my parents for money, but I have to survive somehow. (Or maybe it would be better if I didn’t?) My father was a lumberjack, before he retired, and I have inherited his strong built. I guess I could make a fine lumberjack, if only the sight of an axe didn’t make me feel terrified. Maybe I was also afraid of myself, of what I could do.
Mr Morris is the one who’s supposed to interview me. I already applied for the job so I hoped he would already prepare himself. I realize now he will never be prepared to see my face. I know he’s reluctant to employ me. I answer his questions like a robot, the answers I’ve learned as a poem. I’m not completely aware of his words, my mind works on its own accord.
“Ok”, he rises from his chair. “We’re short of people so we’ll have to use you.”
He doesn’t mind he sounds harsh. I don’t deserve better.
“Can you start right away?”
I know it’s an order, not a question. I nod and follow him, trying to be silent and appear modest. We enter the storage room. He picks up an axe and stares at it for a while. He doesn’t want to give it to me, but it’s too late now. He looks me in the eyes, trying to find a flicker of madness. I’ve noticed he left the door open behind us.
“Take it”, he says and hands me the axe.
Suddenly, it all comes back to me. I remember my father saying the same words.
I was thirsty that night and I went to get a glass of water. I saw father at the kitchen door. I didn’t see the girl but I could hear her cry.
“I’m going to tell everything!” she screamed.
Father’s axe was always in the kitchen, against the wall. I didn’t even notice him pick it up, I just saw him strike. Blood sprayed my father’s face and her shadow disappeared from my view. She didn’t have the time to scream, she only gargled deeply.
My father’s eyes widened and he covered his mouth with his bloody hands. Then he noticed me, sitting on the stairs.
He called my name. As I approached him, I tried not to look at the girl on the floor.
That was when he said: “Take it.”
That was when he said: “You’re a minor. If you admit it, you won’t go to a real prison.”
I was hungry so I headed towards Barry’s Diner.
The streets were lifeless. Almost nobody goes out at night anymore. People know that some kind of evil roams this town, but nobody listens to them. They are all primitive peasants, after all. I thought of them that way as well, but in this case, they seem to be right.
People of this town never liked me. My parents moved here when I was still a boy, but to them I remained a foreigner. A boy from the big city who doesn’t understand their ways. I’m not sure if I was naturally a loner or if they turned me into one, but I’ve never made real friends. I rarely left my home. I grew my own vegetables and earned some money on translations, something I could do from home. I don’t know why I returned here after college. My father was sick so I came to help my mother, but after that, I could’ve left. I didn’t, and apparently now I was trapped here. There was something about this place that made me feel at home, even though I hated the people that lived here. Now, however, I had to feel sorry for them.
I followed the pale streetlights to the only place that was still open. Old Barry didn’t want to change his ways and he kept his diner working as before. People stared at me as I entered. They didn’t expect me there. Ken the Hermit – that was who I was to them. But this night, they had a more important thing on their minds.
There were only men in the diner; men with no families, who always ate out, men who didn’t really spend time with their families, and several drunkards. As always, Bill Brightley was the loudest one.
“What do you want?” asked Sarah, old Barry’s daughter.
She was never nice to the customers and she never smiled, but everybody still liked her. She surely was the nicest face there, to be honest.
I ordered the first meal I thought of. She nodded and left without saying anything.
“I say it’s a vampire or a werewolf!” proclaimed Bill Brightley.
“You can’t really mean that, Bill”, said someone quietly.
“Well, it’s some kind of a creature that eats people. You saw the bodies, the flesh ripped from the bones!”
“It’s some lunatic”, said the third voice.
“Well, who could it be? I’d say the only suspicious one is the Hermit!” said Bill Brigthely jokingly, making sure I could hear him.
I said nothing, pretending not to hear him.
“Anyway, we have to do something. I say we go out and watch. We might spot something.”
“To Hell, Bill! You can’t be serious!”
“We are the men of this town! We are the ones to protect it!”
The men of the town fell silent. Sarah came with my order.
“Sarah, sweety, don’t you think that we should do something about those murders?” Bill yelled after her.
“What would you do?” responded Sarah in monotone.
“Hunt it down, whatever it is!”
“How would you hunt it down if you don’t know what it is?” Sarah crossed her arms.
“We all know what it is! It’s a monster! Our grandmothers always told stories and you all know them. It happened in the past and it’s happening again!”
“Those are just old stories”, said someone.
“Maybe not”, I said.
When I turned to face them, everybody was looking at me in surprise. They didn’t expect me to take part in their conversation.
“So, what do you think?” asked Bill.
“I’ve also heard those stories you speak of. There was this old lady who told them to me. She thought I had to know them if I wanted to be part of this town. She said there were creatures here, not the vampires and werewolves of the horror stories, but real monsters who hunted and ate people and could turn their victims into one of their own. Even now, some of them hide in the woods, she said, and they can hide for centuries if they wish to. They are not mortal. And when they gather their strength, they will come again.”
Everybody was silent for a moment. They seemed to recollect the similar stories they’ve heard when they were children.
“My grandfather told me his little brother was taken from his bed one night”, said one of the men. “Grandfather saw the creature that took him. It was a young, pretty girl, but she was terrifying in an indescribable way. He was so scared he couldn’t move. The little brother was never found again.”
“In my family, there’s this weird story about my great-grandmother”, said another man. “She had a lover. Every night she would go out into the woods to meet him. My great-grandfather found out and, one night, he followed her. The next morning, he returned, his hair completely white. He never spoke a word again.”
“Yes, I also heard…”
“Stop it!” screamed Bill. “We all know that there are many, many stories about those monsters, but this doesn’t help. If we want to fight this time, we need to know where they are and how to defeat them.”
“Crosses!” said one man.
“Cut its head off!” said another.
Bill didn’t seem satisfied with the answers.
“I think I know where to find them”, I said.
“You do?” Bill’s eyes sparkled with interest.
“The old lady said they hide in the ruins, where the old castle used to be. It’s in the woods, but still not that far from the town. And it has many hidden hallways where they can hide. I don’t know if this it true, however. That’s just what I’ve heard.”
“We should burn it down!” yelled one of the men.
“Well, it’s the only clue we’ve got”; said Bill. “We could go there just before dawn, and try to burn it. The stone is moist and doesn’t burn, but we have enough time to plan how to do it.”
“Maybe it’s completely crazy”, I said. “But least we would be doing something.”
“Why are you helping us?” asked Bill.
“Like it or not, I live here. Of course I want the murders to stop”, I said. I got up from the chair, leaving my food untouched.
Bill looked at me with approval and for the first time I felt like a part of the town. I was a comforting feeling.
***
It was still night when we approached the ruins. The stone walls were covered in ivy. Everybody just stood there, uncertain if this was a good idea after all. A little bit of light found its ways through the branches above us, which meant that the dawn is approaching. We had our flashlights pointed to the ground so as not to wake anything that might be hiding nearby.
“We have to burn it from within, there is no other way. The floors have turned to grass I presume, so it shouldn’t be hard. We just have to check it”, said Bill.
Nobody said anything but we still followed him towards the entrance. There was no door there, only ivy and shrubbery. Bill cut through the bushes, trying to make as less sound as possible. And then, we were inside.
The room was pitch-black so we had to use our flashlights. All we could see were the stone walls which surrounded us mercilessly. Everybody stayed silent. Grown men afraid of the dark. Grown men trembling like prey animals.
Bill then motioned towards a single hallway. We knew we had to go that way, wherever it may lead us. We’ve come this far and we couldn’t give up. It must be dawning outside – there was some solace in that.
We walked, wary of everything around us, listening for every sound. We came to a place where hallway led into another room. We looked inside. It seemed empty, but we couldn’t be sure.
“Two of you must stay there to keep watch. We can’t allow them to attack us from the back or, even worse, to surround us”, whispered Bill.
The two men who stayed behind looked almost relieved. The room seemed empty and safe enough. The rest of us proceeded farther into the darkness until the hallway split in two directions.
One way seemed to lead into a room, but it was hard to tell. The other led only into vast darkness.
“We should first go there”, a man showed in the direction which seemed to have an end.
“I think we should go deeper”, Bill responded. “And this time, I don’t think we should split.”
“We should definitely check this way”, insisted the man in a louder voice that would be advised.
“Fine, you cowards. You stay and someone will go on with me. Once you check the room, come after us. If something attacks us you’ll hear the screams”, said Bill sarcastically. “So, who’s going with me?”
Nobody wanted to.
“I’ll go”, I said finally.
Bill looked at me a bit confused, but he wasn’t able to choose.
“Fine”, he said, and everybody did as we’d agreed.
Two flashlights were not enough. Everything was so silent that I could hear Bill’s heartbeat as he walked in front of me. I could hear my stomach grumbling and was certain he could hear it, too. Only then did I realize how alone we were. “This was a very bad plan, Bill”, I thought.
The hallway led us straight into another room. The space distribution was a bit confusing. I don’t think anybody knew where we actually were.
“We passed no windows this entire time. Why are there no windows?” asked Bill.
It was the obvious question to ask but nobody thought about it, blinded by fear.
“You were lured”, I said.
“Wha…?” Bill turned.
I growled and leapt, sinking my teeth at his throat.
I wasn’t hungry anymore.
Horror fiction has always shown what people fear the most, and so is the case with vampires.
When exploring the character of the literary vampire, it is important to start from the beginning and state some facts that go beyond the borders of written literature: the characters’ folkloric roots. The folk stories about vampires have existed for centuries, and it is hard to explain why they appeared in the first place. Similar stories can be traced all over the world, including China, cultures of Australian Aborigines, ancient Mayans, Africa and many more. (Joshi 369-372) The stories appeared in different forms, and probably held different connotations. Even if we focus only on Eastern European tradition, from which the literature of the 19th century drew most of its inspiration, it is impossible to find all the contexts in which the vampires appeared. In old pagan traditions vampires were even worshipped and offered sacrifices. (Collins Jenkins 189) They were closely connected to pagan beliefs and, according to one of several theories, the words vampir, upir, upyr, upior and other similar forms are derived from Turkish word for witch – uber. The bloodlust, one of the most prominent features of the vampires, is thought to bear connection to pagan blood sacrifices. Accordingly, some linguists argue that the root of the word vampire is the Greek word pi meaning “to drink”. (Collins Jenkins 193)
Due to their large number and different backgrounds, the folk stories did not match and they varied to a great extent. In folklore, the characteristics and even names of creatures such as vampires, werewolves, ghosts and other eerie creatures overlapped, and the way people perceived them was not as specific as it is today. One of the creatures that were often intertwined with the vampire was the werewolf, mostly because sometimes in folklore the werewolves were suspected of becoming vampires after death. (Collins Jenkins 199-200) The words that originated from the Slavic word varkolak meaning “wolf pelt” (such as vurkolak in Turkish, volkudlak in Bulgarian, vurvolak in Albanian and vukodlak in Serbian and Croatian) are now mostly translated as ‘werewolf’, due to the obvious connection to wolves, but they originally denoted “a cosmic monster that caused eclipses by eating the sun or moon before setting back on earth and taking on the additional sense of the devouring dead.” (Collins Jenkins 200) (This description also reminds me of Nordic mythology and Loki’s son, wolf Fenrir.) The exception is the Greek vrykolakas which is usually interpreted as a vampire, though it was originally perceived as the undead spirit that glided through the night with a lantern in its hand, and was not always malicious. (Collins Jenkins 201/204)
The vampires gained their name and a bit more distinguished features in the seventeenth century. What connected all of these stories later on became the foundation on which the vampires gained their recognizable form. Those vampires were reanimated corpses with a thirst for blood. (Joshi 366) The reasons for their rising from the grave and some of their features varied, just as is the case with any other superstition. Even today the vampires change and become reinterpreted times and times again. However, vampires first had to become interesting to people so that their story could be developed further. As an important step, literary vampires adopted some aristocratic features so that they could therefore become a part of society, and get close to everything human. Once put in a story, the vampire was finally sketched in a more detailed way. It gained some of the characteristics we nowadays commonly associate with vampires, probably the most important being its appearance. They kept their roles as dreadful villains, and therefore it is inevitable that they came to represent all of the biggest fears of the contemporary society, including moral decline, and even political issues.
In 19th century literature, vampires rose from their tombs in human form, and came to represent human traits, but namely the bad ones. The first “aristocratic vampire” appeared in John William Polidori’s vampire story “The Vampyre” written in 1819. It was followed by the more popular Carmilla, Varney the Vampire series and, of course, Dracula. Those literary vampires developed from the folkloric hideous monsters into more human-like and alluring creatures. What set literary vampires apart from the vampires of folk tales is the fact that they acted like people. Furthermore, their appearance became less repugnant, but this in a way made them even scarier. They could now prey without people even noticing them, and walk freely among them. Once the vampires managed to infiltrate the society, they inevitably acquired their place in it. Moreover, they took the roles of the aristocrats, and that gave them possibilities they would not have as common people. Vampires also started to represent all of high society’s fears – they gained many metaphorical meanings, and the stories in which they appeared became credible and even represented the way 19th century society functioned. First of all, literary vampires embodied the fear of moral decline and represented the primitive part of human nature that is in confrontation with social norms. Accordingly, all of the aforementioned authors dealt with themes of sexuality and emancipation of women which were considered dangerous, but they also show how people can easily get corrupted.
Lord Ruthven form “The Vampyre” represents an immoral, but attractive nobleman who has the power to enchant people, especially the ladies. He awakens their desires and makes them forget all the social rules, and that leads to their downfall. He is also an intriguing character, and demonstrates how easily people become fascinated with everything unfamiliar and obscure. Carmilla also corrupts the young ladies with her charm and good looks. She approaches a young girl named Laura as a friend, and creates a strong bond with her. The moral decline is in both cases connected with sexual desires. Carmilla can also be seen as embodiment the part of human character that is close to nature, closer to an animal than to a human being. She praises the nature, and also acts possessively towards Laura, unable to refrain from her desires.
Count Dracula is different in that aspect. Sexual allusions are mostly connected to Lucy, while Dracula mostly represents another kind of threat – he is a savage foreigner and also stands as a representative of the past, in opposition to contemporary society and technical innovations. Unlike Lord Ruthven and Carmilla, Dracula does not only represent moral “pollution” – the novel implies that the British were afraid of possible “reverse colonisation”, the foreigners overflowing the locals. The fear of foreigners was always present, and sadly, it is still present today, as people still connot escape completely from their prejudice.
Vampires became interesting characters that were not only monstrous villains, but also embodiments of issues that were considered dangerous, and a threat to everything that was considered civilised and human. Therefore, it is not surprising that all of the vampire characters are compared to animals. They also served to reinforce the accepted social behaviour by subtly warning the readers about the consequences of misbehaving. Unquestionably, vampires stepped out of the limitations of Gothic fiction by becoming more realistic and contemporary. Instead of inflicting irrational fear, the literary aristocratic vampires represented the real fears of the contemporary readers. The vampire stories were interesting because they were believable and tackled the issues that readers in the 19th century really thought about. Also, the aristocratic vampires were interesting as representatives of everything forbidden and dangerous, and that is a concept that people have always found attractive. Nowadays, people have still not become bored with vampire characters, which are continuously being adapted to the expectations and thought of the 21st century. The old stories, especially Dracula, are still read today because they depict the 19th century society, but also because the aristocratic vampire represents a creature that is not scary because of its monstrosity, but inflicts fear in an interesting and provoking way.
And what does this mean in the relation to the literary vampires today? For example, Anne Rice’s novels are the exploration of vampires and what it means to be a bloodthirsty monster. Are they only ruled by their thirst for blood, or are they more similar to us than we thought? People do not accept that something is evil without questioning anymore. Say what you want about “new vampires”, but they show how the society has in some aspects changed for the better. Strict moral rules do not apply, women have fought for their right to be emancipated (and are still fighting), and we know that meeting people from all around the world enriches us.
What we fear the most is ourselves. We have become aware of the problems we have caused, both to our species, but also to the world in general. We see what people are capable of doing. We see that we can be monsters. And that is why fictional vampires (and other monsters) have become more and more human-like. And I think this is a good thing, even though a bit concerning. I may sound a bit too optimistic, but I’ll just say it anyway: it is important to start questioning ourselves and taking responsibility for our actions if we want to make the world a better place.
Bibliography:
Collins Jenkins, Mark. Vampire Forensics. Washington, D.C.: National Geographic Society, 2010. Print.
Joshi, S. T. Encyclopedia of the Vampire. Santa Barbara, California: Greenwood, 2011. Print.
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