The International Writers Magazine: Dreamscapes stories

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The Vampire's Garden • Natalie Tehrani The restricting walls of the ballroom were choking me. The event I had looked forward to for so long was a disappointment. As I pushed aside a heavy, satin curtain and stepped through the open French doors into the fresh night air I breathed in deeply and gazed about me. The garden I had stepped into was silent and still. Moonlight seeped across the grass, a dark velvet sea, soft and seductive to my bare touch. Each blade of grass caressing my skin gently as I walked.

High brick walls and sculpted hedges adorned the edges of the garden, creating a feeling of isolation from the rest of the world. Carved stone statues of barely clothed women lurked amidst blood-red rose bushes and exquisite foxgloves. Fruit trees decorated each corner. It appeared as an Eden visited by none, yet cultivated by a godlike hand. Vibrant bleeding hearts and anthuriums grew in deep, earthy beds. Flowers of crimson, violet and titian blossomed. Ivy crept and consumed. A grey, decaying fountain, the garden’s centrepiece, had long ago run dry but stood proud still. The ivy had woven its way amongst the mottled stone skin of the fountain’s lotus bowl designs, creating an impression of something living.

My cold hand shook as I ran it along the crumbling edge, lingering on the smoothness of the plant’s glossy surface as my fingers met the entangled ivy leaves. The rustle of silk against my skin sent a shiver through me as I moved and my dress followed. In the eerie silence I turned to look behind me. I saw that my exit had been noticed by no one; no voice called out my name to lure me back. Feeling a little bitter at my observation I passed deeper into this Eden, drawn and intoxicated by the sweet perfumes around me. I could no longer think, but walked onwards in a daze until the air became colder and the moonlight turned muddy. I had left the main garden behind and now found myself walking down a set of steep, stone steps and onto a path made from smooth slabs of marble that weaved its way alongside a deep, rectangular swimming pool. The water in the pool glimmered, dark shades of green and black danced before my eyes. I could see nothing through the inky water and I hurried past, catching a heel on the uneven surface of the poolside. The stiletto tumbled into the water and sunk with a silent splash. Sighing I removed the other, for what good was a lone heel without its partner. Tossing it aside I walked on, my bare feet finding there way along the marble path which continued before me. The further I went, the darker the night became. A loud shriek stopped me for a second and I held my breath as a large owl swooped out from behind a cluster of trees to my right. It circled the sky above me before disappearing out of sight. Letting out my breath and preparing to walk on I noticed that the path ended abruptly, just a few paces onward, at an entrance to what looked like a forest. I paused, unsure of whether to carry on. Part of me felt I should turn back yet a voice in my head urged me to go forwards. Without thinking any more, I pushed aside an overgrown branch and made my way through the towering trees.
"We possess nothing certain except our past."

These were the fading words scratched across the stone that leapt from the ground before me. I was now in a dark clearing, dimly illuminated by the moon’s glow, whispering through the tree’s leafy branches. The words on the gravestone intrigued me and although I could make no sense of their meaning, I felt their importance. I mused at the words on this lone grave and wondered whose it could be. Bending down to read the rest of the inscription I could barely make out the letters and a wave of sadness settled over me. Whoever this person had been, whatever life they had led, dreams they had had, this was where they were to remain. Alone. Goose bumps erupted all over my body and a biting chill crept inside my skin. Only nature seemed to survive here; even this solid marker of the dead was dying. The stone was rotting away; after years of battling with the elements, never really putting up a fight. Green mould was spreading across the surface and deep from within the ground the ivy crept, eating away at the declaration of life. Stealing the identity of one who had lived.

Attempting to stand, feelings of panic made my knees weaken and I fought to breathe. Falling upon the wet earth I felt the dewy grass touch my dry lips and the reviving moisture seep into my mouth. A tingling sensation replaced the goose bumps on my body and on instinct I suddenly looked up. Before me stood a man like no other. Not a handsome man, but as the moon struck his harsh features with a blow of light his gaze held me transfixed. Dark brown eyes burned into mine; eyes that crept inside my skin and read my thoughts. His veins seemed not to run blood through them, his skin was so pale.

Without warning, in a sudden lunging motion he strode forward and grabbed hold of my hair, flinging me savagely against the rough bark of a huge tree. A smile played at the corners of his mouth as he saw the pain his force inflicted upon me.
"To return was foolish Francesca; I am not the man I was."

The low, cold voice that spoke in my ear seemed to strike my skin and scorch it until I gasped for air. Opening my mouth to express my confusion I was silenced by an icy finger upon my trembling lips. It seemed I was not to be honoured with the freedom of speech; his hold on me grew tighter until breathing became too hard a task for my failing body to endure. As I lost consciousness and darkness engulfed me, I saw only the blood red rose bushes of the garden.

Carved stone statues of barely clothed women lurked amidst blood-red rose bushes and exquisite foxgloves. Fruit trees decorated each corner. It appeared as an Eden visited by none, yet cultivated by a godlike hand. Lush plants of every breed grew tall and strong in deep, earthy beds. Flowers of crimson, violet and titian blossomed. Ivy crept and consumed. A grey, decaying fountain, the garden’s centrepiece, had long ago run dry but stood proud still. The ivy had woven its way amongst the mottled stone skin of the solid, dead fountain, creating an impression of something living.

My cold hand shook as I ran it along the crumbling edge, lingering on the smoothness of the plant’s glossy surface as my fingers met the entangled ivy leaves. The rustle of silk against my skin sent a shiver through me as I moved and my dress followed. Every inch of the soft material clung to the contours of my body in a tight embrace. My loose hair fell in soft cascades over my bare shoulders. I had a feeling that appearance was everything in a place like this. Beauty was essential.

I passed deeper into this Eden, drawn and intoxicated by the sweet perfumes around me. I could no longer think, but walked onwards in a daze until the air became colder and the moonlight turned muddy. I had left the main garden behind and now found myself walking down a set of steep, stone steps and onto a path made from smooth slabs of marble that weaved its way alongside a deep, rectangular swimming pool. The water in the pool glimmered, dark shades of green and black danced before my eyes. I could see nothing through the inky water and I hurried past, scared of suddenly being thrust into those calm, deep waters. Terrified, though I didn’t really know why.

The marble path continued and the further I went, the darker the night became. A loud shriek stopped me for a second and I held my breath as a large owl swooped out from behind a cluster of trees to my right. It circled the sky above me before disappearing out of sight. Letting out my breath and preparing to walk on I noticed that the path ended abruptly, just a few paces onward, at an entrance to what looked like a forest. I paused, unsure of whether to carry on. Part of me felt I should turn back yet a voice in my head urged me to go forwards. Without thinking any more, I pushed aside an overgrown branch and made my way through the towering trees.

"We possess nothing certain except our past."

These were the fading words scratched across the stone that leapt from the ground before me. I was now in a dark clearing, dimly illuminated by the moon’s glow, whispering through the tree’s leafy branches. The words on the gravestone intrigued me and although I could make no sense of their meaning, I felt their importance. I mused at the words on this lone grave and wondered whose it could be. Bending down to read the rest of the inscription I could barely make out the letters and a wave of sadness settled over me. Whoever this person had been, whatever life they had led, dreams they had had, this was where they were to remain. Alone. Goose bumps erupted all over my body and a biting chill crept inside my skin. Only nature seemed to survive here; even this solid marker of the dead was dying. The stone was rotting away; after years of battling with the elements, never really putting up a fight. Green mould was spreading across the surface and deep from within the ground the ivy crept, eating away at the declaration of life. Stealing the identity of one who had lived.

Attempting to stand, feelings of panic made my knees weaken and I fought to breathe. Falling upon the wet earth I felt the dewy grass touch my dry lips and the reviving moisture seep into my mouth. A tingling sensation replaced the goose bumps on my body and on instinct I suddenly looked up. Tall and handsome, he stoodbefore me. A silhouette of a man. As a slice of light illuminated his features I stared in fascination at the pale skin and deep, green eyes, eyes that burned into mine until I had to look away.

As the moon slid behind a cloud and I was plunged into silent darkness I felt, rather than saw him move towards me. He reached out a pale hand for mine and helped me up; his touch was icy and electric. My heart began to beat faster and I feared falling again yet I was desperate for his touch. He held me tightly in his arms, his strength replacing my weakness. Moonlight seeped into the glaze again and a smile I couldn’t read played on his lips. Lips the blood red of the rose bushes in the garden. I felt the warmth of his breathe on my skin and I burned in anticipation. I wanted him to kiss me; he was the embodiment of everything beautiful in this place. His place. The silky touch of the moist grass against my bare toes was nothing compared to the sensuous feelings he stimulated within me. Pushing aside my dark, tumbling curls he slowly stroked my bare neck with his glacial touch. My feelings of weakness intensified and as I fell into the darkness I saw before me only the blood red rose bushes of the garden.

© Natalie Tehrani May 2007
nat_tink (at) hotmail.com


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