When the Coast is Clear

Ron Koppelberger

When the Coast is Clear

Persia Temperance saw the dead reckoning of an intimate, unshackled blood lust, it was a secret passion, a blessing, a blessing bartered for the eternity of forever. The merger of vampire raves and mortal conclusion was a consideration of the utmost for Persia. She liked being a vampire and her desires were weaned on blood, the blood of humans.
She licked the beaded scarlet droplets from her chin like a cat. She waited, she had to be sure the coast was clear. She hadn’t been interrupted in her pursuits with the young couple and she was roused to a sated lethargy. In a poised silent calm she stood before the plate glass window of the apartment window. She watched and waited for the streets to empty.
The Willena Bog was her asylum and she only had a few precious hours to return to her resting perch. There were vegetables scattered across the polished wood floor and parquet tiled kitchen. The couple had been out shopping in the nightly market that marked the town of Jenuessee’s Carnival celebration. Persia thought about the Hammock and the jungle wild, the tribes from ancient times, the subtleties had changed for Persia with the passage of time. The last hundred years had seen radical changes and some improvement for her lot. She always exercised caution as the tides of time were in her favor as long as she was careful in the hunt. The tribes had been savage in ancient times and the mortality rate, even for those who were immortal was low, nevertheless she had survived and her line had flourished.
The couple had been unsuspecting, unaware of her presence in the loft apartment. They had fallen to her thirsts with relative ease. Her foray into town was a curious one this evening, the carnival was in full swing. She wouldn’t be seen. The wild music and the painted denizens created a perfect air of secret purpose, still she waited lest someone see her leave the apartment. A band marched in crazy screams and beaded castaway dreams below and she realized her time to leave the apartment was at hand. With a passion for her safe haven she moved out into the streets, by back alleys and cobblestone she made her way back to the swamp and the frayed edge of an eternal night, a night marked by her unbidden desire and the wonts of a vampire life. As it was, she found solace in the fact that she had filled her belly and marched in a parade of frivolous abandon. The swamp called and she availed the call, her mind on the ethereal light that was her life, her existence in distant vistas of vampire heaven.