5 years ago
The Life and Death of Rue Cornflower: A Vampire Story
https://i.imgur.com/JvWFDn8.png
Immediately upon her arrival at her new home in the quiet seaside village of Brindleton Bay, Rue Cornflower felt a pattering of fat raindrops falling on her outstretched hand. Typical, she thought, that it should rain on her moving day. She knew Brindleton Bay well - she had, in fact, grown up here - so she had thankfully prepared her belongings in advance to withstand the summer drenching. Luckily she only had a handful of things with her. The house was so expensive that she could barely afford any furniture, but she did not mind. She had big plans for this place, and the quaint Victorian-esque build was just too beautiful for her to let slip through her fingers. She decided to paint it blue and green - royal blue being her favourite colour, as was reflected in the brilliant colour of her hair. The house was not completed on the inside, however, as the floors were still concrete and she did not yet have enough money to renovate it. She would have to improve her home paycheck by paycheck. Rue decided to see this as a positive thing: there would always be something to work towards, something to improve and to be excited about.
https://i.imgur.com/e9lNdxR.png https://i.imgur.com/kDjN1nM.png
An avid lover of all things nature, Rue kicked off her first day in her new neighbourhood by heading to a pond and enjoying the beautiful views with a fishing rod in hand. She caught many things, and strangely many of these things were not fish (among others, a cleaning robot that she owned briefly before selling it, as it seemed to spawn dirt from thin air instead of cleaning it - another reason why she did not like modern companies and preferred buying antique things or making her own). Her proudest catch was an adorable guppy that she simply could not sell. She named him Gilbert, and henceforth he would swim happily in her dining room.
When she returned, she made her second-most favourite food: salad. Many might scoff at this, but salads to Rue were the best form of appreciating the delicious produce that she grew fresh from her garden. See, Rue was an aspiring botanist. Although she loved growing (and cooking!) all the produce she could find, especially as a wellness-enthusiastic vegetarian, she particularly loved flowers. It was her dream to one day open a quaint flower shop across from her house, and she held onto that dream whenever she felt unmotivated in life.
Later that night, Rue curled up on her cheap second-hand Futon bed and stared out of the open window. The moon was bright and full, and at that moment, she sent up a prayer that her future would be equally so. Alas, fate had a cruel plan. In the distance, thunder slowly rolled over the ocean as the wind pulled on the shutters. A sound of light footsteps on the muddy grass grew nearer to her doorway, and then the slow turning of a doorknob clacked through the walls. The light feet moved near soundlessly up the winding steps, until a pale figure with glowing eyes was piercing down at the sleeping Rue. Rue found herself in a dreamlike state. Almost as if sleepwalking, she sat up and moved towards the figure, its hands extended towards her. Then they curled around her neck - cold and clicking, like steel on alabaster on a winter morning - then a dull pain followed by a distinctive warmth. Soon, the moonlight slipped away into black as she felt herself collapsing onto the hard ground. When she awoke, there was no sign of the pale figure, and she could almost brush it all away as a bad dream. There was a nagging feeling within her, however, and no matter how hard she tried to suppress it, it kept creeping back up her throat like hot bile. Then she knew. As she climbed into the bath, everything felt magnified and slowed down to an unbearable dull thumping of her heart in her ears. The soft screeching of the bath curtain, the sound of water gushing from the faucet. And the distinctive twin bumps of puncture wounds that could only be fangs as she ran her finger along the tender flesh. Something had visited her that night. Something ancient and dark. Something that would return.
** Note: this story is Game-Driven, with a general plot in mind as I play.
Immediately upon her arrival at her new home in the quiet seaside village of Brindleton Bay, Rue Cornflower felt a pattering of fat raindrops falling on her outstretched hand. Typical, she thought, that it should rain on her moving day. She knew Brindleton Bay well - she had, in fact, grown up here - so she had thankfully prepared her belongings in advance to withstand the summer drenching. Luckily she only had a handful of things with her. The house was so expensive that she could barely afford any furniture, but she did not mind. She had big plans for this place, and the quaint Victorian-esque build was just too beautiful for her to let slip through her fingers. She decided to paint it blue and green - royal blue being her favourite colour, as was reflected in the brilliant colour of her hair. The house was not completed on the inside, however, as the floors were still concrete and she did not yet have enough money to renovate it. She would have to improve her home paycheck by paycheck. Rue decided to see this as a positive thing: there would always be something to work towards, something to improve and to be excited about.
https://i.imgur.com/e9lNdxR.png https://i.imgur.com/kDjN1nM.png
An avid lover of all things nature, Rue kicked off her first day in her new neighbourhood by heading to a pond and enjoying the beautiful views with a fishing rod in hand. She caught many things, and strangely many of these things were not fish (among others, a cleaning robot that she owned briefly before selling it, as it seemed to spawn dirt from thin air instead of cleaning it - another reason why she did not like modern companies and preferred buying antique things or making her own). Her proudest catch was an adorable guppy that she simply could not sell. She named him Gilbert, and henceforth he would swim happily in her dining room.
When she returned, she made her second-most favourite food: salad. Many might scoff at this, but salads to Rue were the best form of appreciating the delicious produce that she grew fresh from her garden. See, Rue was an aspiring botanist. Although she loved growing (and cooking!) all the produce she could find, especially as a wellness-enthusiastic vegetarian, she particularly loved flowers. It was her dream to one day open a quaint flower shop across from her house, and she held onto that dream whenever she felt unmotivated in life.
Later that night, Rue curled up on her cheap second-hand Futon bed and stared out of the open window. The moon was bright and full, and at that moment, she sent up a prayer that her future would be equally so. Alas, fate had a cruel plan. In the distance, thunder slowly rolled over the ocean as the wind pulled on the shutters. A sound of light footsteps on the muddy grass grew nearer to her doorway, and then the slow turning of a doorknob clacked through the walls. The light feet moved near soundlessly up the winding steps, until a pale figure with glowing eyes was piercing down at the sleeping Rue. Rue found herself in a dreamlike state. Almost as if sleepwalking, she sat up and moved towards the figure, its hands extended towards her. Then they curled around her neck - cold and clicking, like steel on alabaster on a winter morning - then a dull pain followed by a distinctive warmth. Soon, the moonlight slipped away into black as she felt herself collapsing onto the hard ground. When she awoke, there was no sign of the pale figure, and she could almost brush it all away as a bad dream. There was a nagging feeling within her, however, and no matter how hard she tried to suppress it, it kept creeping back up her throat like hot bile. Then she knew. As she climbed into the bath, everything felt magnified and slowed down to an unbearable dull thumping of her heart in her ears. The soft screeching of the bath curtain, the sound of water gushing from the faucet. And the distinctive twin bumps of puncture wounds that could only be fangs as she ran her finger along the tender flesh. Something had visited her that night. Something ancient and dark. Something that would return.
** Note: this story is Game-Driven, with a general plot in mind as I play.