The Tell-Tale Carotid Artery, told by the nervous Mr. E.A. Poe

back to filk list
by Cathy Georges

TRUE! Broody, very, very dreadfully broody I had been and am; but why WILL you say that I am bad? Vampirism had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the sense of guilt acute. I regretted all things I fed upon in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell, especially during my extended stay there. How then am I bad? Hearken! and observe how low-keyly,  how laconically, I can tell you the whole story.

It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain (Darla might have played a part), but, once conceived, it haunted me day and night - especially night. Object there was none. Passion there was                         none. I loved the little nun. She had never wronged me. She had never given me insult. For her creamy breasts I had - well, maybe some desire. I think it was her visions! Yes, it was this! Her eyes                         resembled those of a march hare - very dark eyes with a vaporous look to them. Whenever they fell upon me my blood ran hot, and so by degrees, very gradually, I made up my mind to take the life of the little nun, and thus assure myself of a plaything for ever.

| back to top |

back to filk list