Thanks. There’s a ton of vampire stories out there. I thought I’d write about one who is middle aged with a middle aged mortal lover. No angst, just a vampire family; but cannot reveal more without revealing my story!
Horror / Tristan and Isolde--A Vampire Romance Chapter 2
Even in my weakened state, I slept but lightly. It was more like I was in a trance, aware of my surroundings and feeling deeply relaxed. I wanted to lose consciousness, and certainly the comfortable sofa, the warmth of the afghan, and the fire which was now burning low seemed to invite it, yet somehow sleep eluded me. I craved the release of sleep, but was denied it. I wondered if this was part of what I had become.
So, instead of sleeping I lay there, neither asleep nor awake, but somehow losing awareness of where I was. I wasn’t aware when I lost consciousness, but I wakened with a jolt when I heard the front door open and shut, and voices speaking in French.
I looked at the elegant grandfather clock; the hands said 3:30. Three guys about my age came into the living room and stopped and looked at me.
“Is this a present for us from Tristan?” The one who spoke was slightly smaller than the others, blond, and very Teutonic looking. Too much so—he gave me the creeps. He could have been a Hitlerjungen by his looks; his French was heavily accented, and I could tell it was not his native language.
“Hush, Rainer,” a voice spoke in English, “We probably woke him up. We evidently have a new brother now. Can’t you tell he was made tonight? I can.” He came around to the sofa, and sat on the edge of the coffee table opposite. “I am Claude. I met Tristan during Napoleon’s retreat from Moscow. He saved me, as he has evidently saved you. I have lived with him ever since.”
“The rude one is Rainer Schmidt. We found him in Berlin at the end of World War I. He was alone and scared, starving, and sleeping in alleys and doorways, too frightened to kill. There was much chaos in Germany in those days. We didn’t know how long he’d been made, or by whom. Tristan took him with us back to Paris. For reasons he chooses not to not to share, he keeps his memories of his life before coming to us secret.” He cast a look of dislike at the diminutive blond vampire.
“We met Fabian in Rome.” In contrast to Claude’s plain looks—brown hair, long Gallic nose, brown eyes—this one was could have stepped out of a Renaissance painting. I never noticed whether a guy was good looking or not, but Fabian had one of those classic profiles, along with curly black hair, dark eyes, and perfect olive skin. He was broad shouldered and slim hipped, and he seemed almost too perfect to be real.
But his eyes and his smile were friendly enough. “I found them,” said Fabian, “I knew what they were the minute I saw them. It was at the end of World War II and my vampire family had been scattered or destroyed. There were still a lot of the Allies stationed in Rome. I was feeling very lonely and when I met Claude and Tristan I felt I could trust them. I was not happy when we left Rome; I am a Roman and heart and Roma is my home. Still, when they decided to leave, I joined them. For now, this will do.”
I sat up, no longer feeling dizzy or sick. “How long have you, I mean how did you, I mean how has it happened that you’re all here? This is so unreal to me. Last evening I was going to a basketball game with my girlfriend, and now I find myself in a house with a pack of vampires, one of whom has a mortal…oh never mind.” Shit, I thought to myself. The more I tried to make sense of it, the less sense it made.
Claude and Fabian laughed, but more with than at me it seemed. Claude pulled out a bottle of red wine out of the cabinet and poured himself a glass. He took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one, then settled in a chair.
“You might be a Frenchman, but you seem to forget that you’re a vampire.” Rainer’s tone was scornful.
“I keep telling you, little Hun, that wine can strengthen our blood. Even Tristan takes an occasional glass or two. We just have to be careful not to drink too much, or be prepared to be very drunk.” He smiled and winked at me.
The little German pointed at me. “You. You have a name?” He was blunt to the point of being rude.
“My name is Steven.” I felt on the defensive with him. Maybe it was his arrogant attitude; maybe he just looked too Aryan for me with his blond hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. I dislike few people on first impression, but I found myself wishing fervently that he was not a part of Tristan and Isolde’s household. There was something about him that did not feel quite right. And he made me feel a little bit afraid.
We all sat silently, and for the first time in my life the silence did not seem awkward. Normally, I would have jumped in and started talking just to ease my discomfort, but I felt no need to. I wondered if this was something, among other things, that would feel normal after my transformation. I purposely did not allow myself to think about the fact that I had become a killer and would take the lives of people I did not even know. It was too early to think about that now.
At last Claude stood up. “We should leave the newcomer alone and let him rest. I’m for bed myself, and we’ve had a later night than normal. Good night Etienne.” It took me a minute to realize he was referring me as I watched them file silently up the stairs. I was alone again.
The grandfather clock chimed eight when I came out of my trance a second time. Isolde had come downstairs, hair still wet from her shower, and she carried a large coffee thermos and two cups. She filled one for herself, then asked if I liked to drink coffee.
“Vampires can drink coffee?” I asked incredulously, and she laughed. I liked the sound of her laughter.
“Coffee is a fluid. Your body can tolerate some fluids. You just need to be careful. Tristan will tell you what is safe and what is not. She talked about it so easily, as if she, too, were a vampire. Then I remembered that life for Isolde had began when Tristan found her. If she talked as if she were a vampire, it was because for five years she had been a vampire’s companion.
I had so many questions I wanted to ask her. I wanted to know about her and Tristan. I wanted to know about the other vampires who lived with them. But most importantly, I wanted to ask her about Rainer and what she thought of him.
She got up and poured a few drops of cognac into her coffee, then sat back down. “Do you want to take the opportunity to ask me questions while we are alone? The others are sleeping and Tristan has yet to get up.” She lifted her brows quizzically, as if to say “I know you want to ask me things, so ask!”
“Rainer, what about Rainer? I don’t like him and I don’t even know him. Why should I mind him when I don’t mind Claude and Fabian?”
“Because Rainer is a killer.” She stated this matter-of-factly. “He doesn’t kill for need, he kills for the thrill. He’d kill me just to kill me if it weren’t for Tristan. Tristan is probably the only thing he fears.”
“Never turn your back on him, never trust him. Never hunt with him; you have no guarantee that he wouldn’t turn around and kill you just for fun. Hunt with Claude, hunt with Fabian, but no matter what he says to try to entice you, never hunt with Rainer.” She refilled her cup from the thermos.
“Ah, bonjour cherie,” Tristan had come downstairs. He kissed Isolde very tenderly on top of her head. He took the other coffee cup and filled it from the thermos.
“I was telling our boy here to be careful of Rainer. Do you have anything to add?”
“Isolde, I think you have told him everything that I could have and more. Listen to her, she knows our boys well. I will teach you all I can to help you prevent a misstep, but you must learn to look out for yourself. Do you have anything you’d like to know?”
“Yeah, why am I awake during the daytime? Is it because the drapes are so heavy? I could see myself in the mirror, was I imagining things? Are there things that can hurt me?”
“Well,” Tristan put on a mock serious face, “We can open the drapes if you like. We just like a little privacy in the mornings. And yes, you can see yourself in the mirror and you can go out in the sun. Yes there are things that can hurt you. You can be killed by a stake through your hear—that is not a myth. The same if someone cuts off your head. You can be killed by fire. Oh, and contrary to the old legends, you won’t be rendered powerless by a crucifix.” He and Isolde laughed as if this were an old joke.
“You mean I can just live my life as if I weren’t a vampire. There’s no big giveaway to let people know what I am?”
He reached over and poured cognac in his coffee as Isolde had. “No, not quite. You have to be careful around mortals. You haven’t hunted yet, so you don’t know the lure of the scent of blood. Once you do, you must learn to hold yourself and your urges back, no matter how strongly your nature dictates otherwise. That is how we have learned to live with human beings over the centuries. There are those of us who choose to live in the light, while others go to ground. It becomes a matter of control. And remembering to feed, always make sure you’ve fed.”
“So I’m not going to be sleeping in a coffin and shunning the daylight, like Count Dracula. And no turning into a bat.”
“No, but part of the legend could have originated this way: it is safer for us to hunt at night than during the day. You can hide in the shadows and dispose of a body more easily. We are efficient killing machines. Our fangs piece the skin easily, we can drink our victim’s blood quickly, and we are stronger than any human being that walks the earth.”
“But don’t forget, the most important thing is how you choose to live your life. You can live like Rainer and be nothing more than a killer, or you can imitate Claude and Fabian and kill only when you need to.”
“Or you.”
“Or like me. You are young and will need to hunt and feed more frequently. The older a vampire becomes, the less often he needs to hunt.”
Isolde stood up and stretched. “He will need his things, Tristan. If he can maintain the illusion of living, then no one will be the wiser.” She turned to me, “You can tell your housemates you have found better living quarters. Take Claude and Fabi during a time when your roommates will be gone and then you can get your belongings.”
“You could even keep going to school, if you like,” there was a wistful tone to her voice, “It would mean no less to you now than it did before.”
Tristan put his arms around her waist and pulled her down. “Cherie, he can stay with us forever if he likes, and he’ll want for nothing.”
“Maybe, but I still hope he keeps going to school.”
This must have been painful for her. She had lost her past, when Tristan rescued her. Whoever had attempted to kill her had not succeeded, but her memory had been wiped out. She was happy with Tristan, but she wanted more for herself than he could offer. It must have hurt both of them.
I wanted to change the tone of the conversation. I did not want to see the hurt in Isolde’s eyes or the pain in Tristan’s. So, I took a deep breath—it seemed strange that I still breathed as I had when I was alive. Then I gathered my courage and asked.
“Tristan, is it true that you were with Napoleon’s army? “ Isolde smiled as I said this.
“Well, since you ask,” his tone was amused, “I joined the French army in 1795, and was under the command of a young lieutenant from Corsica who called himself “Napoleon Bonaparte. I could see that he was a rising star and I attached myself to him. I rose in rank and became one of his aides. I was with him on several campaigns, including Italy and Egypt.” He stopped there as if he thought that ought to satisfy me.
“But Claude said that you made him a vampire during the retreat from Moscow? Were you already a vampire when you joined the French army? Or did it happen afterwards?”
Tristan smiled cryptically. “Let me just say this. I am very old. I have been a vampire for a long time. The fact that I could not be killed helped my career with Bonaparte considerably. But when he invaded Russia, when he almost destroyed his own army, I parted ways with him. If you are asking if I was already a vampire when I joined Le Grande Armee, the answer is yes. And that’s all I’ll say for now. Someday you may find out the whole story. In the mean time what I’ve told you will have to satisfy you.”
I wasn’t even half satisfied. In a not so subtle way he’d dropped a hint that there was more to him than what he’d just told me. I hate secrets, and now my life was going to nothing but secrets. Secrets from my friends, secrets from my family, and what was going to happen if I met a girl?
I tried to adopt a casual attitude, like this was nothing more than a casual conversation. “I’d like some coffee, if it’s all right. And a little of that cognac would be nice if it’s okay. I hope all my questions didn’t offend you.”
“I’ll answer that,” said Isolde, “No, you didn’t. To find out anything from Tristan you often have to ask.” They laughed together as if this was some private joke.
“Oh god,” I thought, “What have I gotten myself into? Well, welcome to your new world, Steven.”
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BPL reviewed Version 3 -
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This must have been painful for her. She had lost her past, when Tristan rescued her. Whoever had attempted to kill her had not succeeded, but her memory had been wiped out. She was happy with Tristan, but she wanted more for herself than he could offer. It must have hurt both of them.
This part does not fit here it hurts the flow of the story
Over all i see some pun errors but i like it and look forward to more
good luck
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1Nevermind1 reviewed Version 3 -
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Hm. You’re a fluent writer, and I like your ideas, but this remind me of something i’ve already read. However, this may be a complete coincidence cos a lot of a vampire stuff overlaps.
You definitely got a good sense of character though, and even though i hadn’t read anything you’ve written before this I get what’s going on, which is a good thing.
Nice ending as well, for a chapter, very concluding. Keep writing :)
terriwilliams reviewed Version 3 -
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This is a wonderfully told story. I was captured the minute I started reading. I love to be totally pulled in by a story. The questions that Steven asked Isolde, I had often wondered myself. In this story, there is no coffin to sleep in, and you can actually go out into the sun. I loved the fact that you didn’t stick with the same vampire routine. Different is great. This is brilliant writing.
youngwriter92 reviewed Version 3 -
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i find that it is very easy to get sucked into your story and i was glad to see that you had your second chapter posted. I hope that if you get your story published because i would sooooo buy it! I saw one or two mistakes out of it all.
NachtXEngel reviewed Version 3 -
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In my opinion, it moves a little too fast. Or maybe it’s just the conversations- the way they take place doesn’t seem real to me. Try and slow down a bit… if you can; unless you’re trying to make merely a short story. But if not, add in some extra bits. More description. More memories of the night before…. it just seems too casual with all his question- asking.
Other than that, wonderful job.
madriter1022 reviewed Version 2 -
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I felt like some of your dialect seemed a little strained, don’t be afraid to slip into your character and give them thier own voice. I think some of the wording needs a little work, but the stroy line is interesting.
lupi reviewed Version 2 -
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In general, I liked this piece. Just wondering are Tristan and Isolde based on Troilus and Cressida and if so, Shakespeare’s version or Chaucer’s? Or are you basing them on another piece of literature? (Shakespeare was well-known for re-working other’s stories to fit his own needs.)
One thing I was not clear on was how easily the group answered his questions. I would have thought that Tristan (and maybe Isolde) would be the most likely to answer questions as he was the one who apparently turned Steven. Yet Tristan seemed much more secretive than the others.
And why would Tristan tolerate Rainier’s presence if A) he wasn’t the one to turn him, and B) he clearly knows that Rainier would kill Isolde (whom he apparently loves) in a heartbeat?
Just some questions that came to mind as I was reading.
TourmentedSoulz reviewed Version 2 -
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My Dear I give you a standing ovation!Once more you have seemed to be able to mesmerize and captivate my mind.I can not wait until the next chapter is uploaded for all to read. You have mass quantities of talent, and I advise you to seek out an agent. One would be considered to be out of their mind if they didn’t sign you after reading just one chapter of your tale.
MisterP reviewed Version 2 -
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The way the three intruders introduce themselves is obvious and feels very wooden, contrived in the same way as a 1930s stage play. Why are they doing this? Surely they know each other and at this point in the story the reader might well be better off not knowing as uncertainty can only make the reader feel on edge, which is surely what you want to achieve.
The dialogue also feels wooden and stilted. What have you got against Germans?
Why does Claude go to the drinks cabinet that holds Isolde’s cognac and pull out a bottle of wine? What’s wrong with the cognac?
‘We all sat silently. I’d never read Anne Rice’ – If Steven has never read her then how does he know she writes about vampires?
Sitting round in silence is not dramatic prose and if you are not careful you’ll be lining Steven up for some sitting round in silence later on. May need a rethink.
Do you really have to have a conversation about whether your characters can drink coffee or not?
Technical point, you shouldn’t use double quotes within a piece of dialogue as it suggests that dialogue has finished.
‘Never turn your back on him…’ – You’re really labouring the point about not hunting with Rainer.
Then Tristan appears, apparently, from nowhere. A suggestion that he was walking down the stairs might be an idea.
You make a point of describing what Tristan is wearing but Isolde and Steven could just as well be naked, we don’t know.
‘stake through your hear -’ – sounds nasty!
’ Our fangs piece the skin easily, we can drink quickly’ – missing an r here, and drink what quickly, coffee, cognac, blood?
Keeping up your school studies seems an irrelevance considering he’s going to be a vampire. Plenty of time to earn a living without having to stay at school.
Overall I like the way you are attempting to update the notion of vampire. So the premise of the story is good but I have the disadvantage of not having read the first chapter.
What strikes me, as a reader, is that you don’t write with confidence; and that is apparent in the way the dialogue does not flow naturally (no pun intended). A writer who knows just how their characters are going to react in a given situation also knows just what they are going to say and that confidence leaps off the page; and that is what is missing here. It feels as if one person says something… then something is explained… then another person speaks… and so on.
I realise that you will read this as a negative comment, but I have been honest and I hope you can take something away from it.
What ever you think, keep writing.
sjvance reviewed Version 2 -
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he chooses not to not to share -repeat
this one was could have stepped out of a – delete was
me to be away from Roma, but -Rome
Our fangs piece the skin easily, – pierce
I hope all my questions didn’t offend you.” - you answered this in your story by saying, “no, you didn’t.” I would change one sentence or the other. ”I hope all my questions didn’t offend you.” ”Of course they didn’t.” Or better, “I hope asking all of these questions hasn’t offended you.” ”No, it hasn’t.” something like that, just to make the sentences flow better.
I read the beginning of this story, and it is getting better. You did a good job letting Stephen know what to expect and what to do now. The characters are coming along nicely, and the new one of Ranier promises to be a great rival later in the story. This is an excellent read, much like Stephanie Meyers. I am enjoying reading it. Keep going.
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