Dark December [A Holiday Filled Horror Anthology]

A Monster in Love by May Freighter

A Monster in Love by MayFreighter

November 7, 1904, Queens Wood, Haringey

Ethel peeled open her heavy lids in an unfamiliar room. The interior, from the large wooden beams supporting the roof above her head to the worn wood panelling on the walls, seemed odd for a property in London.

Furrowing her brow, she sat up and looked around. The room was cosy, but she did not remember coming here. The last thing she recalled was the asylum she was in and the handsome stranger who...

She stood upright at an unnatural speed. The stranger from Mr Courtenay's manor bit her. He drank her blood and fed her his. She grimaced. What kind of monster forced his blood down the throat of other people? She remembered spitting the blood out multiple times, but he wouldn't relent. Who was he? And, more importantly, where was she?

The door to the room opened, and she scrambled backwards until her backside hit the wall.

"You—" she began, trying to formulate a sentence that would not leave her lips out of paralysing fright her body suffered.

The handsome stranger inclined his head in greeting and closed the door behind him, locking it in place. "Don't be scared of me. I am your creator, Arthur Blake."

"Creator?" She frowned, unable to distance herself from this man any further than the wall would permit her.

"Yes. You are like me now, a vampire."

A nervous giggle escaped her. "A vampire? You mean a creature in Bram Stoker's novel?"

He tilted his head to one side, assessing her. "I'm sorry, what?"

Ethel found it odd that although she was embarrassed by her statement, she wasn't blushing. She placed her hand over her heart, and her frown deepened. There was no heart beating in her chest. Was she truly a blood-drinking creature? Would she hiss at the sight of a cross and burn in the rays of the sun? Or would people chase her to the end of time with sharpened stakes in their hands before hammering them into her chest? "I can't be..."

Arthur glided towards her, his arms outstretched to show he was harmless. Yet, being locked in a room with a man was not something she believed was considered good manners. What if he brought her to a brothel? Would she become a whore? Certainly, the thought of him being a patient from Bedlem did not escape her either. The talk of vampires had to be a jest. But, she had no home to return to. Although, it did not mean she would willingly throw her body at the first man who comes into her chamber. In this case, it was a strikingly good-looking man in his late twenties or early thirties with grey eyes that matched the shade of stormy clouds.

His irises lit with a faint glow. Is it a play of light?

"Ethel, come and sit. I have much to tell you about your new life," he said, taking a seat on the bed.