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|All right, so I was inspired by my friend Naomi's story about a race of vampires modeled after snakes. So this is my first installment of my own story. It may not seem like much now, but this is just in relation to In Shades Of Amber. It's supposed to show you how Irri's head works... ^_~ It has more ... purpose. I really just liked writing the imagery in this one, though, so enjoy. (This is also one of her many comment prizes!)||
It annoyed her to no end what these humans felt they were capable of. So intelligent, they bragged. Logic was capable of only their huge and powerful minds. Irridae snorted derisively, long black nails clicking impatiently on the clear, glass surface of the tabletop. And yet, for all their bragging and boasting, the poor, human souls could not for the life of them figure out why so many in the area were dying from snake bites.
Leaning forward to rest bony elbows on black-clad, long white legs, Irridae peered eagerly at the flickering television screen before her. The volume was muted; she had heard this same story before. The only difference was the name of the victim and she already knew that. Samantha Barnes, a young woman of about 27, with two puncture wounds in her hand and snake venom in her veins, found dead in her apartment on 32nd Street off Vines and Far Break.
Wrinkling her nose, the young vampire wondered why she had bothered at all. She had known, back when she thought she was human, that her preference never ran towards women. However, to keep the cops off her trail and for them to keep suspecting real snakes, she had to give them a little variety. It still disgusted her to do such impure acts – for her kind. Unfortunately, she refused to move her ‘nest’, as she so ironically called it. This meant that sooner or later the police would figure out that there were no deadly snakes in their beloved city and would go searching for the real cause.
With a sigh, Irridae gently rested her nails and white fingertips against the glass of amber brandy sitting in its crystal glass on the glass tabletop. Vertical pupils focused on the mirrored images in the beautiful, fiery liquid and the many facets of the unique beverage container. Curling long fingers around the glass, she picked it up gently and swirled the brandy, staring mesmerized as the light reflected off of it like a cat fascinated with a ball of yarn.
My own yarn to untangle…The irony struck her hard and she chuckled. The sound rang deep and throaty in the silent room like a large bell. Her cat, Beetle, jumped up from his place in the windowsill and padded light-footed across the bright green carpet. He leapt, although a human would have described it as more like floated, up onto the futon next to her and walked across her lap. The movement startled her and her glass tipped.
The crystal tumbler fell from her fingers to the tabletop. It shattered, spilling amber liquid all over the clear glass. Small droplets formed on the surface of the table, like small fire-colored pearls. They were so beautiful, flawless. How something so fascinating and compelling could have been created by such a flawed and corrupted species was beyond her. She sighed. In a distracted sort of way, she murmured to herself and to Beetle, “So many perfect substances created by a race so inherently imperfect…is it their way of proving to themselves their worth?”
Irri gazed at the shards of glass scattered in and among the spilled brandy, as well as on the carpet and her feet. Small, sharp pieces just lay there, a few pinpricks of blood showing up on pale, nearly translucent skin. The pain fascinated her in a way that she hadn’t before realized. She knew her body was feeling it, but it didn’t register in her brain in a way that she supposed it should. A small gurgle of laughter bubble up in her throat as she watched the dark red blood bead up on her foot. It was such a beautiful image; the pearls of brandy, beads of blood, and crystal shards on a white background laced with pulsing blue veins. Oh, how stupid of those humans for not realizing where true beauty lies.
“They would have shrieked and gone to clean it up,” Irridae mused. Beetle made a small ‘prrp?’ inquiry in her general direction before sliding into her lap and curling up. One hand stroked the cat absently at she stared at the fascinating image before her. With a sigh, she dislodged the cat from her lap to go retrieve something to clean it up with.
Muttering under her breath, she swept the tabletop clear and then vacuumed the floor. With a sigh and a push to Beetle to move him from her spot on the couch, she returned to admiring the reflection of the television in the glass. Oh, how fortunate these humans were – and how little they appreciated what they had. Ruby lips twisted upwards in a smirk. She had hundreds of years to appreciate what they had created, while they had – average – less than one.
Sharp, ivory teeth appeared on her full red lips as she smiled cynically. Yes, Irridae thought, I will show them how stupid and fortunate they are.
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