Eggbug Writes

Written for Vamptober prompt number 9 (yes, I'm doing them out of order)

Vampire who is still growing in their new fangs.

It is approximately 1400 words long, or about 2 pages. It contains:
Captivity
Torture
Starvation
Mild Gore
It's a good deal darker than my usual work, but I do hope you enjoy!

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The hunter arose at sunset, as befit one of her profession. She made her ablutions as the last rays of the sun disappeared behind forested hills dusted with the first snow of winter. With care, she made a circuit of the safe-house's interior, ensuring the wards were still in place at every possible entrance. Religious symbols and sacred herbs could not stop an experienced vampire for long, but they bought precious time to prepare for an intrusion. Each had been ritually bound to her, so that their destruction would not go unnoticed. Unlikely that her quarry's sire would find her this far from the city, but precautions were still warranted.

Satisfied, she made her way to the kitchen and prepared a small pot of porridge. The provisions here were meager stuff, but it was better than the travel rations in her pack. A warm bowl of anything was preferable to hard tack and jerky. She ate her fill, cleaned the dishes, and then prepared herself for the night's ministrations.

She donned her vestments, tied back her hair, strapped her tools to her waist, and finally drew on long gloves of brown leather, studded here and there with dots of silver. Her neck was protected by a steel gorget, engraved with the symbols of her order. She took up her book of observations, lit a candle, and thus armed, descended into the basement.

 

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Written for Vamptober prompt number 6 (yes, I'm doing them out of order)

Vampire who can't thrall your mind, but can thrall your body.

It is approximately 1900 words long, or about 3 pages. It contains:
Implied Violence
Power Imbalance
Dom/Sub Dynamics
Dolls!
Please enjoy!

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Great tapestries adorned the walls of the Dollmaker's home, each depicting scenes of service and humility, as one might expect from the products of dolls. Felicity stared at them as she and her Master were led through the impressive estate, wondering how long it must have taken to create so many, and how many dolls were dedicated to the task. Perhaps they were fast with a needle.

She glanced past her Master's shoulder, at the doll who escorted them. They were fascinating creatures, but they made Felicity uneasy. There was something uncanny about them, she thought, in the way they moved, the way their faces could emote only so much within the limits of their artificial construction. And there was the question of how artificial they really were. One could, as a vampire (or near enough), detect the vital essence, the life within any given doll. Was it all magic, or...? It gave her goosebumps.

The doll stopped at a closed door, and gently knocked. The voice of the Dollmaker came from within.

“Yes, my dear?”