a taste of pureness
“I prefer the impish and filthy side of you earlier on, not this pathetic being begging for his life … why do all the men I kill have to beg? It is not arousing at all, don’t you know?” the young girl said as she sank her fangs into his neck and drained him dry; the only sound breaking the silence was the sudden release of the sword hitting the floor. She laid the desiccated corpse down gently, and proceeded to walk downstairs slowly, tying back her hair and putting her robes back on. She saw the second guard being gripped on the neck by Wither, along with a few others of his cohorts, all standing still in a half circle, only their ghostly robes visible in the moonlight.
“My man has finally arrived at the guard post,” said the young girl to the guard, a smile playing on her lips.
Wither brought the guard closer to him and sniffed his face. He turned to the young girl and asked, “Why do you always torment your victims, Ishtar? What is it that you enjoy out of these role-plays? I do not understand the way you feast …”
“Demons … mercy … please …!” the guard stuttered slowly and softly.
“Me? A demon? Now why would you say such a thing?” Wither asked the stunned guard, who began to repeat the words in an escalating panic.
“I have not seen any demons here before … have you? I don’t think they have the privilege to walk amongst these plains like us …” Wither laughed and then turned sober. “Please, do not disturb the peace and serenity of the night,” he said as he dropped the guard.
“I overheard you earlier on, mortals, when you were saying how you like to enjoy your pleasure exclusively and I too am like you in that aspect. However, I am not going to drain you and neither will my other cohorts here. I cannot guarantee with Ishtar, as her tastes are different from ours. But today is a special day, not for you but for them, and I’ve promised them the ultimate taste of pureness and you are not that. Now, I will let you live on two conditions,” Wither whispered into his ears.
The trembling guard’s eyes opened widely as Wither whispered into his ear.
“Yes, they are still there … they entered Uruk two days back; this is not a large city as it used to be so you will definitely find them in city …” the guard replied trembling with fear, his wounded hand clutched to his chest. The blood ran freely and some of those behind Wither began to sniff in an ominous fashion.
“Good, that is very good,” replied Wither, clapping his hands mockingly. “Now for the second question.” But there was no reply from the guard, only tears flowing down his cheeks.
About the Book
Author: G.W. Lwin
Genre: Fantasy Horror
The plague of 1918 A.D:
The mortal world is in a state of devastation.
A woman wakes up in an abandoned temple of Kali, the goddess of darkness, in an ancient city of Gaya.
She does not know where she is.
She does not remember the events leading to this.
She only hears a familiar voice of a tormented man who has haunted her dreams.
He tells her a story – of a time of souls and suffering, of immortality and gods, of life and death.
This, he says, is Mesopotamia.
THE SAMSARIC is a fantasy-horror novel based on ancient vampirism, history and mythology. Set in an era widely considered to be the cradle of civilization, it is a story of once-powerful mortal races and ancient gods and goddesses to excite and inspire.
From a young age, I have felt that there were two versions of me: the old spiritual one and a young soul who still lives in his fantasy world.
However, both of these versions share one commonality – my interest in vampires from the ancient mythology and beliefs. I was mesmerised by their folklore since young.
The need to express is very strong within me. Writing, for me, provides this gateway and helps me to grow as a person. It is a life-long learning path that I gladly embark.
As a writer, I would like to improve each and every stage of writing, to possess the art of crafting words to communicate the emotions that arise from within to the readers … a vision shared by many authors.