Short Story Sunday: The Hybrid and the Princess

Back in the day, I wrote this story for a contest that's only guideline was that it had to be under 800 words. It is 799 words. I had plans to turn this into a novel, but only got about a chapter and a half our of it.

             Cantrell wasn’t your average vampire, actually to be brutally honest he wasn’t really a vampire at all. He was the sole bloodline of his species between a demon and a vampire. His veins ran black with pure evil and he was the prince of darkness himself. Though even with that said, he didn’t really like being evil or maybe the thought had never struck him. The most evil thing he had ever done was run away from the underworld and joined the normal people above the surface.        

            Now he lived in the purest kingdom in his whole land. Ironically his job was to take care of the king’s flowers. He found solace in clipping flowers and watering flowers. Every other day, the princess would take a walk through the garden. Cantrell sort of had a crush on her. She was the sweetest and kindest person he had ever laid eyes on.

            However he dared not look at her long fore he was scared that being a mere commoner and being that there were guards posted just about everywhere, he could very well look at her long. Perhaps he could if he didn’t like where his head was currently located. Which was on his shoulders, he didn’t really want it floating around in a random basket.

            One day as he was trimming the flowers, he heard a scream. It was a voice that sounded familiar one that he knew very well. It was indeed the voice of Princess Lunia. He rushed to her aide, he ran faster than any man had ever ran, although he wasn’t a human completely or even at all.

He appeared from the bushes and saw the princess with a thorn in her hand lying on the ground. The thorn was from the rose of death. A distinctively black rose that held the power to kill anyone with its venom. Her veins were already beginning to turn to a shadow of her life.  There were no guards within a considerably close distance.

He pulled the thorn from her hand, and dragged his fingernail across his wrist creating a deep gash. His evil blood began to ooze out. He held his hand above her mouth and dripped a single drop into her mouth. In a matter of seconds her other delicate white arm began to turn black. His more dominant evil would fight the other lesser evil off, even if it was destroyed in the process. All he could do now was wait patiently and hope his heritage was that of a fighter.

Only minutes later one of the guards appeared. At first he drew his sword to kill Cantrell for meddling with royal affairs. Then the guard settled down and they both watched as Princess Lunia’s arms went back to their marble appearance.

“Cantrell, you have done me a grand favor. I hereby grant you the day off. You may do whatever you please.” The guard smiled and carried the princess away, but she wasn’t completely healed. The tip of her little finger was a solid shade of black.

Cantrell looked up at the position of the sun. It was almost high noon. He still retained a vampire’s hate for the sun. Though he could tolerate it, once it got high enough into the sky, he felt sleepy and it began to irritate his skin.

            He went back to the small shed that he called home, though it also kept the gardening tools safe from thieves. The floor was made of a sheet of wood he had fashioned in his free time. He lifted it above to reveal a grave sized hole in the ground. He laid down in it and began to drift to sleep. No one quite understood the point of a vampire sleeping in the ground. It wasn’t what most people thought. Cantrell slept in the ground because he wanted to be close to his family and the world below the ground that he called home. He was woken abruptly as a strong hand stuffed him into a burlap sack.

“I’m sorry Cantrell.” The voice belonged to his guard friend. He felt like he was being carried away and his gut said probably to his death. He used the razor sharp talons that he called fingernails and ripped his way out. He felt right to his feet and was in a fighting stance.

“What have I done?” Cantrell said through clenched teeth.

“The king says you have dishonored his family and made his daughter impure. I’m very sorry, you were my friend.” The guard snapped his fingers and it began to rain arrows and they landed in Cantrell’s chest. His will may have been strong but it seemed to be the end of him. When they dragged him away he was still breathing.