Wedding Funeral
“Between the two of us, I think this is a mistake,” Damian whispered to Tricia.
A festive group stood gathered around the empty grave, awaiting the guests of honour.
“Get over it,” Tricia replied. “Celeste loves him.”
Damian showed a bit of fang. “He’s human. There’s no lineage, no…”
Michael, having overheard, laughed, cutting in. “So were we once. Such elitist twaddle.”
“But it’s absurd. Celeste…” The arrival of the betrothed couple silenced whatever Damian had planned to say next.
The crowd parted respectfully as their queen and her human consort approached. Celeste’s pale skin stood stark against the crimson of her resplendent wedding gown.
Her groom, alive with the scent of blood, paced her, under her spell. Kurt, a budding movie star, had placed his own spell on Celeste. His disappearance had been widely reported in the papers. Two more reasons Damian considered this union a bad idea.
Though Damian had sired her, Celeste had proved to be the much stronger vampire, supplanting him as ruler of their clan. Now she listened to no one.
Sighing, Damian dutifully stepped forward as Celeste approached, kissing her cold cheek. “You are certain, daughter?”
“Positive,” she answered, impatient to get on with it. Having fasted for weeks, Kurt’s pulse sang in her ears, driving her blood lust.
Celeste led Kurt to the open grave. She held her hand out. Tricia placed a blade in it.
“My love, will you join me, now and forever?” She stared at the pulsing arteries in his neck, her hunger nearly overwhelming. But, for this, she would feed elsewhere.
Eyes glazed, Kurt replied, “My sun, my moon, I am yours forever.”
Grabbing Kurt’s hand, Celeste sliced his wrist open. Dropping her mouth to the gaping wound, she began to drink, the bloodlust upon her. After drinking him dry, she bit her own wrist, pouring her blood into his mouth, before releasing his body into the open grave. Wiping her mouth, she smiled. He must rise tonight, or he never would. Either way, she had feasted.
Wedding guests covered the body with dirt, then joined the bride in her motionless vigil. One hour they waited, two, then four. A hand emerged from the dirt; Kurt clawed his way up and out of the grave, seeking his Maker. Never had a vampire risen so quickly, so forcefully.
Celeste opened a fresh cut on her wrist. Bringing it to Kurt’s mouth, she forced him to drink. Tentative at first, then ravenous, Kurt drank deeply.
Celeste struggled to disengage. “Wait, my love. We will feast together after we are wed.”
Kurt, dirt falling from him as he rose, pulled Celeste to him, kissing her fiercely. Damian stepped forward, concerned. The fledgling should be weak, submissive.
Kurt stayed the older vampire’s movement with a glare. “Celeste is mine; this coven is mine.” To Celeste, he whispered, “Did you think you controlled me, love?” Pulling his now uncertain bride to him, he commanded, “Padre, begin the ceremony.”
This is a fun flash fiction I wrote in response to a prompt quite a while back. I don’t remember all the particulars, just that it had to include a wedding or a funeral (I included both), start with the word between, and be a fun horror story. Let me know if you liked it, hated it, or anything in between. Oh, and I’m always open to reader prompts. Leave one in the comments if the mood takes you!
If you like light hearted (mostly) fare, check out Mark Starlin Writes. It comes out once a week, from one of my favorite writers. I never miss an issue.
Excellent twist.
Just goes to show, you can’t trust an actor. 😉
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