Monday, May 17, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
Song Parody
I hopped on my bike at the apartment complex with glasses and a homemade luncheon
Welcome to the school of riches, excess, whoa, am I going to fit in?
Walked in the doors, here I am for the first time
Look to my right, and I see doctors in a line
This is all so crazy, everyone seems filthy rich
My head is pounding and I'm looking for some quiet
Too much chaos and I'm lacking a niche
That's when I opened the door
And the host club welcomed me
And the host club welcomed me
And the host club welcomed me
So I put my hands up, they're all around me
Color flames in my face
shaking my head like no
Scrambling backward like no
I put my hands up, they're all around me
Not sure I'm gonna be okay
Heyy, it's a party in music room 3
Joining the club in my boys uniform
Everybody's looking at me now
Like who's that boy who's dirty poor
Shouldn't really be around
So hard with this glamour all around me
Definitely more like harem party
Cause all I see are more ladies
Guess they really like me
This is all so crazy, everyone seems filthy rich
My head is pounding and I'd really like some quiet
Too many guests and I'm tired
That's when a gentle hand patted me
And I growled at Tamaki
And I growled at Tamaki
And I growled at Tamaki
Welcome to the school of riches, excess, whoa, am I going to fit in?
Walked in the doors, here I am for the first time
Look to my right, and I see doctors in a line
This is all so crazy, everyone seems filthy rich
My head is pounding and I'm looking for some quiet
Too much chaos and I'm lacking a niche
That's when I opened the door
And the host club welcomed me
And the host club welcomed me
And the host club welcomed me
So I put my hands up, they're all around me
Color flames in my face
shaking my head like no
Scrambling backward like no
I put my hands up, they're all around me
Not sure I'm gonna be okay
Heyy, it's a party in music room 3
Joining the club in my boys uniform
Everybody's looking at me now
Like who's that boy who's dirty poor
Shouldn't really be around
So hard with this glamour all around me
Definitely more like harem party
Cause all I see are more ladies
Guess they really like me
This is all so crazy, everyone seems filthy rich
My head is pounding and I'd really like some quiet
Too many guests and I'm tired
That's when a gentle hand patted me
And I growled at Tamaki
And I growled at Tamaki
And I growled at Tamaki
Friday, April 16, 2010
Overdrive Cont. (This might be out of order because I'm not sure where everything is)
She accepted his hand happily; a pleased and adoring gleam in her eyes. Their gazes met and Tara knew what was coming next. The thought made her pulse quicken. She saw his dark eyes shift to observe the thumping of her veins under the pale skin of her throat. Then he led her away. The crowd parted to let them through, all with knowing stares. There were no secrets here. Everyone knew what she gave whenever her master asked. Her blood and her body.
The room they often used lay behind the stage area. It was a dark room, decorated in varying shades of red. Vanilla candles lit the room with their soft, flickering light. The room looked like it belonged in a stately manor rather than an old warehouse, with all it’s velvet and gold.
He released her hand and settled himself on the bed, in his familiar position of legs crossed and chin propped in hand. Tara unzipped her knee high shoes and slipped them off. Next, she slid her bracelets off, placing them on a low table. Her hand went to her hip, where the zipper that held up her skirt hid in folds of cloth. It fell to the ground and she stepped out of it. Leaving it there, Tara walked forward, hands gripping the hem of her t-shirt. She pulled it up over her flat stomach, her breasts, and then over her head. It joined her skirt in a heap. As they always did, Master Damien’s eyes traveled along the curve of her shoulders, the expanse of flesh across her chest, the new and old bite marks he had personally left on her neck. Once again he reached out to her and pulled her violently past him onto the large bed. She landed sprawled on the covers, left only in her undergarments and fishnet tights.
She felt fingers pulling at her tights and lifted her hips to assist him in getting them off. They were thrown carelessly aside. The mattress sank beneath her and Tara looked up to find him hovering over her, eyes burning. His fingers played lightly across her skin. They started at her thighs and worked up. One bra strap slipped over her shoulder, then the other. All other things were meaningless now that it was just the two of them together. Tara felt goose bumps rise on her flesh despite its superheated state. The world slipped away as his body and hers flowed together, giving each their own kind of satisfaction, one of serving and the other of domination.
***
Tara’s party dress was in one word, fabulous. It was black and strapless, hugging her body to accentuate her gentle curves. From her hips the skirt flared out, a mass of cotton and tulle ending just above her knees. The shoes she wore were bright pink satin, with rhinestones glittering at her toes. She took two hours to straighten her hair, another to get her make-up just right. Her eyelids were a shimmering rainbow of color accented by thick black eyeliner. Only a few special kandi bracelets were around her wrists and her neck was left bare.
Tara had rose around noon to face the day of her 18th birthday. Her once bright and cluttered room was now stripped down to leave only pink walls and cardboard boxes filled with her worldly possessions. She had been packing for a week, avoiding her parents notice, and only told them of her intentions three nights previous. Her mother had cried, her father lectured, but Tara was unaffected by their emotional outbursts. She was going to a better place. Tonight would be the first night that she spent in her new home with Master Damien. The thought was exciting, to be in his service at all times without question! There were no regrets of leaving her childhood home, only thoughts of her master.
During his lecture, her father had referred to Damien as ‘that boy’. Her parents were not at all aware of the true nature of him or their daughter’s position with him, just like they had no idea about her experiments with drugs and loss of virginity. They had never seen the bruises that every night spent in the bed in the warehouse left. They never would.
She picked up a compact to inspect a particularly sore part of her neck. Around the newest bite marks was a deep purple-blue bruise. A semi-circle of yellow bruise showed where a row of teeth had left their mark. That night had been indescribable, a night that made Tara feel more alive then she could ever remember feeling. Master Damien had seemed like he was enjoying himself as much as she was, such was the ferocity of his bite. The bite that sent them both over the edge of ecstasy, providing the release that they craved.
Tara used the puff to carefully powder over the bruise. She wanted to look flawless for this night. The door to her bedroom opened and her mother entered. There were tears in Kara’s eyes.
“You look beautiful, darling. I hope you enjoy your party. You’ll call, won’t you?” her mother said.
Tara nodded. Her mother sighed.
“There is a car here for you.”
The car was a limo of the non-stretch variety. Tara swept silently past her sulking father and very confused little sister. She stepped out into the night with excitement tingling in her nerves. A uniformed chauffeur held the door open for her. Without looking back to her family in the doorway, she got in, the door slamming shut behind her. Tara heard the man say something about a moving service coming for her things and then they were off to the party.
All seemed quiet when they pulled up to the warehouse. Tara walked in with anticipation throbbing in her veins. The beats started when she entered. Eager party-goers thronged around the birthday girl, holding wrapped gifts. All were dressed in their rave best; the bright colors creating a thriving mass of confusion. Guards came out of the shadows, pushing the crowd back. Some started taking presents and setting them on tables laid out for that very purpose. Tara made her way through the parted crowd to the dance floor. The seats of the masters and mistresses had been moved to the stage area. Tara was thrilled to find her favorite DJ spinning the tracks. Some people were already on the dance floor, twirling their glow sticks to create a show. Tara clapped and the dance started. She pulled her friend Derek into the middle of the crowd with her and they danced.
A moan of disappointment broke the crowed when the music stopped a few hours later. However they all fell silent at the sight of Master Damien on his feet. He nodded and Tara joined him on the stage. With a snap, one of the other pets approached with a silver tray. Upon it sat a tall, thin glass bottle. The cork was stained the same crimson red as the liquid in the bottle.
“Is that what I think it is?” Tara breathed, eyes wide. Master Damien picked up the bottle by the neck and held it out to her delicately. Tara fell to her knees.
“Th-th-thank you, Master.” She reached up with trembling fingers to take the gift. It was a bottle of Master Damien’s own blood. In this world where nearly everyone took drugs, vampire blood was among the highest coveted. Only a few privileged experienced the high it provided in their lifetime.
“Rise,” Master Damien said, putting one finger under her chin, guiding Tara slowly to her feet. He turned her to face the intently staring and silent crowd.
[Insert Raena’s stuff, also the drive]
She was in a room full of toxic intentions. Her brain was still fogged from whatever she had been forced to inhale. It was a dark, windowless room. Tara attempted to sit up, in order to better inspect her surroundings, only to find that hard metal cuffs secured her wrists to the bed post.
“Well, it’s about time, Miss Taralynn,” Asher said sarcastically.
Tara couldn’t remember exactly what had happened, but only one thought entered her mind. She took a deep breath.
“Master Da—”
He slammed the wall and something crashed next to her ear. Fury swarmed Asher’s eyes. “Don’t speak that name.”
She whimpered, recoiling as far as she could away from her captor.
“Pathetic,” he muttered. “You call him ‘master’. That’s disgusting.”
In a fit of rage, Tara worked up a gob of saliva in her mouth and spit it at him. She missed, but her anger was easily recognized.
“How dare you!” she screamed at him, pulling at her bonds. The edge of the cuffs bit painfully into her skin. “You have no idea what it means to serve him! Let me go back to him! Master Da—”
The room they often used lay behind the stage area. It was a dark room, decorated in varying shades of red. Vanilla candles lit the room with their soft, flickering light. The room looked like it belonged in a stately manor rather than an old warehouse, with all it’s velvet and gold.
He released her hand and settled himself on the bed, in his familiar position of legs crossed and chin propped in hand. Tara unzipped her knee high shoes and slipped them off. Next, she slid her bracelets off, placing them on a low table. Her hand went to her hip, where the zipper that held up her skirt hid in folds of cloth. It fell to the ground and she stepped out of it. Leaving it there, Tara walked forward, hands gripping the hem of her t-shirt. She pulled it up over her flat stomach, her breasts, and then over her head. It joined her skirt in a heap. As they always did, Master Damien’s eyes traveled along the curve of her shoulders, the expanse of flesh across her chest, the new and old bite marks he had personally left on her neck. Once again he reached out to her and pulled her violently past him onto the large bed. She landed sprawled on the covers, left only in her undergarments and fishnet tights.
She felt fingers pulling at her tights and lifted her hips to assist him in getting them off. They were thrown carelessly aside. The mattress sank beneath her and Tara looked up to find him hovering over her, eyes burning. His fingers played lightly across her skin. They started at her thighs and worked up. One bra strap slipped over her shoulder, then the other. All other things were meaningless now that it was just the two of them together. Tara felt goose bumps rise on her flesh despite its superheated state. The world slipped away as his body and hers flowed together, giving each their own kind of satisfaction, one of serving and the other of domination.
***
Tara’s party dress was in one word, fabulous. It was black and strapless, hugging her body to accentuate her gentle curves. From her hips the skirt flared out, a mass of cotton and tulle ending just above her knees. The shoes she wore were bright pink satin, with rhinestones glittering at her toes. She took two hours to straighten her hair, another to get her make-up just right. Her eyelids were a shimmering rainbow of color accented by thick black eyeliner. Only a few special kandi bracelets were around her wrists and her neck was left bare.
Tara had rose around noon to face the day of her 18th birthday. Her once bright and cluttered room was now stripped down to leave only pink walls and cardboard boxes filled with her worldly possessions. She had been packing for a week, avoiding her parents notice, and only told them of her intentions three nights previous. Her mother had cried, her father lectured, but Tara was unaffected by their emotional outbursts. She was going to a better place. Tonight would be the first night that she spent in her new home with Master Damien. The thought was exciting, to be in his service at all times without question! There were no regrets of leaving her childhood home, only thoughts of her master.
During his lecture, her father had referred to Damien as ‘that boy’. Her parents were not at all aware of the true nature of him or their daughter’s position with him, just like they had no idea about her experiments with drugs and loss of virginity. They had never seen the bruises that every night spent in the bed in the warehouse left. They never would.
She picked up a compact to inspect a particularly sore part of her neck. Around the newest bite marks was a deep purple-blue bruise. A semi-circle of yellow bruise showed where a row of teeth had left their mark. That night had been indescribable, a night that made Tara feel more alive then she could ever remember feeling. Master Damien had seemed like he was enjoying himself as much as she was, such was the ferocity of his bite. The bite that sent them both over the edge of ecstasy, providing the release that they craved.
Tara used the puff to carefully powder over the bruise. She wanted to look flawless for this night. The door to her bedroom opened and her mother entered. There were tears in Kara’s eyes.
“You look beautiful, darling. I hope you enjoy your party. You’ll call, won’t you?” her mother said.
Tara nodded. Her mother sighed.
“There is a car here for you.”
The car was a limo of the non-stretch variety. Tara swept silently past her sulking father and very confused little sister. She stepped out into the night with excitement tingling in her nerves. A uniformed chauffeur held the door open for her. Without looking back to her family in the doorway, she got in, the door slamming shut behind her. Tara heard the man say something about a moving service coming for her things and then they were off to the party.
All seemed quiet when they pulled up to the warehouse. Tara walked in with anticipation throbbing in her veins. The beats started when she entered. Eager party-goers thronged around the birthday girl, holding wrapped gifts. All were dressed in their rave best; the bright colors creating a thriving mass of confusion. Guards came out of the shadows, pushing the crowd back. Some started taking presents and setting them on tables laid out for that very purpose. Tara made her way through the parted crowd to the dance floor. The seats of the masters and mistresses had been moved to the stage area. Tara was thrilled to find her favorite DJ spinning the tracks. Some people were already on the dance floor, twirling their glow sticks to create a show. Tara clapped and the dance started. She pulled her friend Derek into the middle of the crowd with her and they danced.
A moan of disappointment broke the crowed when the music stopped a few hours later. However they all fell silent at the sight of Master Damien on his feet. He nodded and Tara joined him on the stage. With a snap, one of the other pets approached with a silver tray. Upon it sat a tall, thin glass bottle. The cork was stained the same crimson red as the liquid in the bottle.
“Is that what I think it is?” Tara breathed, eyes wide. Master Damien picked up the bottle by the neck and held it out to her delicately. Tara fell to her knees.
“Th-th-thank you, Master.” She reached up with trembling fingers to take the gift. It was a bottle of Master Damien’s own blood. In this world where nearly everyone took drugs, vampire blood was among the highest coveted. Only a few privileged experienced the high it provided in their lifetime.
“Rise,” Master Damien said, putting one finger under her chin, guiding Tara slowly to her feet. He turned her to face the intently staring and silent crowd.
[Insert Raena’s stuff, also the drive]
She was in a room full of toxic intentions. Her brain was still fogged from whatever she had been forced to inhale. It was a dark, windowless room. Tara attempted to sit up, in order to better inspect her surroundings, only to find that hard metal cuffs secured her wrists to the bed post.
“Well, it’s about time, Miss Taralynn,” Asher said sarcastically.
Tara couldn’t remember exactly what had happened, but only one thought entered her mind. She took a deep breath.
“Master Da—”
He slammed the wall and something crashed next to her ear. Fury swarmed Asher’s eyes. “Don’t speak that name.”
She whimpered, recoiling as far as she could away from her captor.
“Pathetic,” he muttered. “You call him ‘master’. That’s disgusting.”
In a fit of rage, Tara worked up a gob of saliva in her mouth and spit it at him. She missed, but her anger was easily recognized.
“How dare you!” she screamed at him, pulling at her bonds. The edge of the cuffs bit painfully into her skin. “You have no idea what it means to serve him! Let me go back to him! Master Da—”
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Overdrive -Flashback-
"Get that thing away from me!" said the girl, trying to jerk away from her captors. Two men held onto to each of her arms, their hands gripping hard enough to bruise her pale skin. Her light pink button up blouse was ripped open down to her naval. Long, curly brown locks stuck to her face, which was streaked with tears and sweat.
The men forced her to her knees and she hung her head as another man approached her. His very aura radiated power. He had jet black hair which shielded one eye, the other glowed a gentle red. The girl shook in fear and finally all but gave up on her quest for freedom. She saw the man raise his wrist to his mouth and heard a sick squishing sound. Then the wrist was held out to her, dripping red sticky blood onto the floor.
The girl wasn't entirely sure what she was expected to do until the wrist extended above her head, She looked up at it, numb, blood dripping onto her cheek. The hot trail of droplets made its way towards her lips. She pursed her lips, determined not to let the blood pass through them.
This...this is some kind of sick joke, right? This can't be happening. Who are these people? Is this some kind of cult?
The man with the bleeding wrist nodded to one of the men at her arm and he pinched her nose shut. Her blue eyes widened as her panic kicked into overdrive, using up her stored oxygen in a few short moments. The pain, the pain in her chest was unbearable. Her mouth gasped wide open and the bleeding wound was pressed against her lips...
And then she looked up at her master with a smile in her eyes, blood running down her chin.
The men forced her to her knees and she hung her head as another man approached her. His very aura radiated power. He had jet black hair which shielded one eye, the other glowed a gentle red. The girl shook in fear and finally all but gave up on her quest for freedom. She saw the man raise his wrist to his mouth and heard a sick squishing sound. Then the wrist was held out to her, dripping red sticky blood onto the floor.
The girl wasn't entirely sure what she was expected to do until the wrist extended above her head, She looked up at it, numb, blood dripping onto her cheek. The hot trail of droplets made its way towards her lips. She pursed her lips, determined not to let the blood pass through them.
This...this is some kind of sick joke, right? This can't be happening. Who are these people? Is this some kind of cult?
The man with the bleeding wrist nodded to one of the men at her arm and he pinched her nose shut. Her blue eyes widened as her panic kicked into overdrive, using up her stored oxygen in a few short moments. The pain, the pain in her chest was unbearable. Her mouth gasped wide open and the bleeding wound was pressed against her lips...
And then she looked up at her master with a smile in her eyes, blood running down her chin.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Overdrive 2
Tara came to about five minutes later. She reached up to feel the throbbing punctures on her neck. There was a small pool of blood on the floor, but she was in no hurry to clean it up. First she got a washcloth and started wiping the blood from her skin. She winced, applying pressure to scrub the dried flakes away.When she was presentable, then she turned to clean the pool on the floor.
Wrapping the towel once again around her, Tara left the bathroom and went back to her bathroom to get dressed. Her skirt was short and pink pleated. Underneath she wore black fishnets, with random holes on her thigh and calf. The t-shirt she wore was lime green with yellow smilies and neon splatters. She pulled on high top converse that went up to her knees and completed her look with about 20 brightly colored plastic bracelets that clinked cheerily. Tara pulled open the curtains in her room and slipped black oval sunglasses over her eyes. Before leaving her room, she settled her hair in curtains around her shoulders, so that the bandaid on her neck could not be seen. She went down the stairs to the kitchen.
"Honey, you need to stop staying out so late," a kind-faced woman with the same brown hair said, standing at the stove. Kara was her mother, a woman who dressed sensibly at all times. Not one thing she wore wasn't functional and cheap. She browned hamburger in a skillet. Tara's father was likely still at work and her little sister Sara was watching cartoons in the living room. Tara sighed and rolled her eyes behind her glasses.
"I'm going out," she answered, grabbing a stuffed dog backpack from where she had tossed it that morning. The door slammed shut behind her.
Tara leaned against the closed door for a second, fingers lightly tracing the angry red scabs. The cool night air felt good on her skin, which still felt like it was on fire. Then, with a slight skip in her step, she left for the party.
The rave was in full swing by the time she arrived. Pulsing electronic music filled her ears and she felt at peace. The dance floor seemed to shake from all the people packed on to it, moving to the tecno beats. Glowstickers had a corner towards the back to show off their skills, the hardcore druggies another corner to roll in by themselves. And there in the corner adjacent from the door, the masters and their pets. It was this corner that Tara made her way to.
Men and women, all young and beautiful, lounged in comfortable armchairs that seemed oddly out of place. In the middle of the group was Damian, one ankle balanced on the opposite knee, leaning his head against the hand he had propped on the arm of his chair. Tara approached meekly, and settled at his feet at a nod from him. A few of the other people glanced her way, especially when she tied her hair back to reveal the marks on her neck. They grinned secret grins and turned back to observe the goings on of the party.
Tara looked up at him when she felt his hands in her hair. He did seem to love her hair. There was a sense of longing in her blue eyes, but no emotion from him looking back on her.She tilted her head to the side and looked away, her eyes back on the action on the dance floor. The beat pounded in the floor, sending vibrations across her skin and it seemed down to her bones. Though most people found the power of EDM irresistable, Tara did not even twitch, for she did not have permission from her master to do so. After maybe half an hour of nothing but sitting, she felt a hand on her shoulder and rose to her knees, extending her wrist. The plastic beads of her bracelets clicked as they hit each other and fell, revealing another expanse of her pale skin. The man named Damian bent his head and bit into her skin with no hesitation.
This time was nothing like the time before. Before they had just been in the silence of her bathroom, but now, with the lights, music, and just the aura of the party, Tara found the sensation made her eyes roll back in her head. Pleasure tingled down to her toes, rippling across every nerve in her body. When he was finished, he pushed her wrist toward her own lips and she obediantly drank deep until a gentle touch told her to stop. Her eyes blazed as she gazed up at her master and waited for her next order.
"You may go," he said in her favorite purr. Tara rose to her feet, bowed low with her still bleeding arm crossed in front of her chest, and excitedly went off to join the crowd on the dance floor. Joyous cries of "Tara!" and "Kitty Cupcake!" followed her through the crowd. Other kids covered in the plastic bracelets called 'kandi' flocked around her, holding out their hands in an offer to give her more bracelets. A few even pulled long neck chains of beads over their heads and held them out. However, most of them retreated when they saw her bleeding wrist.
Not one person in the warehouse wasn't aware of the hierarchy that existed there. They were all servants in a way to the masters and mistresses, slaves to the parties they held. When the word went out that a rave was going to be held, all the regulars knew they had to show up or else.
Wrapping the towel once again around her, Tara left the bathroom and went back to her bathroom to get dressed. Her skirt was short and pink pleated. Underneath she wore black fishnets, with random holes on her thigh and calf. The t-shirt she wore was lime green with yellow smilies and neon splatters. She pulled on high top converse that went up to her knees and completed her look with about 20 brightly colored plastic bracelets that clinked cheerily. Tara pulled open the curtains in her room and slipped black oval sunglasses over her eyes. Before leaving her room, she settled her hair in curtains around her shoulders, so that the bandaid on her neck could not be seen. She went down the stairs to the kitchen.
"Honey, you need to stop staying out so late," a kind-faced woman with the same brown hair said, standing at the stove. Kara was her mother, a woman who dressed sensibly at all times. Not one thing she wore wasn't functional and cheap. She browned hamburger in a skillet. Tara's father was likely still at work and her little sister Sara was watching cartoons in the living room. Tara sighed and rolled her eyes behind her glasses.
"I'm going out," she answered, grabbing a stuffed dog backpack from where she had tossed it that morning. The door slammed shut behind her.
Tara leaned against the closed door for a second, fingers lightly tracing the angry red scabs. The cool night air felt good on her skin, which still felt like it was on fire. Then, with a slight skip in her step, she left for the party.
The rave was in full swing by the time she arrived. Pulsing electronic music filled her ears and she felt at peace. The dance floor seemed to shake from all the people packed on to it, moving to the tecno beats. Glowstickers had a corner towards the back to show off their skills, the hardcore druggies another corner to roll in by themselves. And there in the corner adjacent from the door, the masters and their pets. It was this corner that Tara made her way to.
Men and women, all young and beautiful, lounged in comfortable armchairs that seemed oddly out of place. In the middle of the group was Damian, one ankle balanced on the opposite knee, leaning his head against the hand he had propped on the arm of his chair. Tara approached meekly, and settled at his feet at a nod from him. A few of the other people glanced her way, especially when she tied her hair back to reveal the marks on her neck. They grinned secret grins and turned back to observe the goings on of the party.
Tara looked up at him when she felt his hands in her hair. He did seem to love her hair. There was a sense of longing in her blue eyes, but no emotion from him looking back on her.She tilted her head to the side and looked away, her eyes back on the action on the dance floor. The beat pounded in the floor, sending vibrations across her skin and it seemed down to her bones. Though most people found the power of EDM irresistable, Tara did not even twitch, for she did not have permission from her master to do so. After maybe half an hour of nothing but sitting, she felt a hand on her shoulder and rose to her knees, extending her wrist. The plastic beads of her bracelets clicked as they hit each other and fell, revealing another expanse of her pale skin. The man named Damian bent his head and bit into her skin with no hesitation.
This time was nothing like the time before. Before they had just been in the silence of her bathroom, but now, with the lights, music, and just the aura of the party, Tara found the sensation made her eyes roll back in her head. Pleasure tingled down to her toes, rippling across every nerve in her body. When he was finished, he pushed her wrist toward her own lips and she obediantly drank deep until a gentle touch told her to stop. Her eyes blazed as she gazed up at her master and waited for her next order.
"You may go," he said in her favorite purr. Tara rose to her feet, bowed low with her still bleeding arm crossed in front of her chest, and excitedly went off to join the crowd on the dance floor. Joyous cries of "Tara!" and "Kitty Cupcake!" followed her through the crowd. Other kids covered in the plastic bracelets called 'kandi' flocked around her, holding out their hands in an offer to give her more bracelets. A few even pulled long neck chains of beads over their heads and held them out. However, most of them retreated when they saw her bleeding wrist.
Not one person in the warehouse wasn't aware of the hierarchy that existed there. They were all servants in a way to the masters and mistresses, slaves to the parties they held. When the word went out that a rave was going to be held, all the regulars knew they had to show up or else.
Friday, March 26, 2010
(Copying Ichijou) Overdrive
She was a happy child. She always had been, all of her life. That was before she was introduced to the truth. Before she was introduced to him. To Damian.
The sun had just gone down when Taralynn Donahue rolled out of bed, memories of the previous night racing through her head. Pale legs shone in the semi-darkness, sticking out from beneath her pink shorts. A white tank top hung ruffled around her slender form. Thin, light brown hair fell to the middle of her back. Her locks were touched by splashes of color, pink here and some blue there. There was orange and green in her slanted bangs. Her blue eyes blinked wearily at the digital clock on her nightstand. It was scarecly seven p.m. Tara groaned and stumbled across the hall to take a shower.
The hot water streaming over her body did little to revive her. All of the girl's movements were tired, buy strangely graceful. A sense of stumbling poise surrounded her like an aura. After she finished washing up, Tara simply stood under the jet of water, staring blankly at the tiled wall, not really seeing it.
A voice called from downstairs. Tara mechanically turned the knobs to shut off the water and stepped out, reaching for her purple towel. She was only half shocked to find him holding it out to her. Her master.
Tara took the towel silently and wrapped it aorund her. For a few moments, they simply regarded eachother. Then, after a nod from him, she started to dry herself off, showing no sign of shame at her state of undress. His dark eyes watched her movements closely. When she was finished he beckoned to her and she stepped towards him. Her face betrayed no emotion as he gripped her shoulders and turned her around; he ran his fingers through her hair before gathering it up and draping it across her shoulder. His lips pressed gently against the skin at her throat. She couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down her spine, but a smile graced her lips.
She truly loved these moments with her master. His nails dug deep into her skin. The pain was intense, intensely pleasurable. His teeth pressed against her neck; her nerve endings sent pulsing electronic messages to the receptors in her brain, which were going crazy from the sensation. And then it came, the moment when his fangs pierced the barrier of her skin and they were as one, joined by blood.
Seconds passed, then minutes, and finally Tara saw black starting to gather at the corners of her vision. She crumpled to the floor, her master wiping his mouth clean of blood. And then he was gone.
The sun had just gone down when Taralynn Donahue rolled out of bed, memories of the previous night racing through her head. Pale legs shone in the semi-darkness, sticking out from beneath her pink shorts. A white tank top hung ruffled around her slender form. Thin, light brown hair fell to the middle of her back. Her locks were touched by splashes of color, pink here and some blue there. There was orange and green in her slanted bangs. Her blue eyes blinked wearily at the digital clock on her nightstand. It was scarecly seven p.m. Tara groaned and stumbled across the hall to take a shower.
The hot water streaming over her body did little to revive her. All of the girl's movements were tired, buy strangely graceful. A sense of stumbling poise surrounded her like an aura. After she finished washing up, Tara simply stood under the jet of water, staring blankly at the tiled wall, not really seeing it.
A voice called from downstairs. Tara mechanically turned the knobs to shut off the water and stepped out, reaching for her purple towel. She was only half shocked to find him holding it out to her. Her master.
Tara took the towel silently and wrapped it aorund her. For a few moments, they simply regarded eachother. Then, after a nod from him, she started to dry herself off, showing no sign of shame at her state of undress. His dark eyes watched her movements closely. When she was finished he beckoned to her and she stepped towards him. Her face betrayed no emotion as he gripped her shoulders and turned her around; he ran his fingers through her hair before gathering it up and draping it across her shoulder. His lips pressed gently against the skin at her throat. She couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down her spine, but a smile graced her lips.
She truly loved these moments with her master. His nails dug deep into her skin. The pain was intense, intensely pleasurable. His teeth pressed against her neck; her nerve endings sent pulsing electronic messages to the receptors in her brain, which were going crazy from the sensation. And then it came, the moment when his fangs pierced the barrier of her skin and they were as one, joined by blood.
Seconds passed, then minutes, and finally Tara saw black starting to gather at the corners of her vision. She crumpled to the floor, her master wiping his mouth clean of blood. And then he was gone.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
The Definition of Evil [Incomplete]
What is evil? What is it really? This is the question that has been posed to me and it is this question that I shall devote this hour to answering thoroughly.
Evil is selfishness, vanity. Evil is sin. Evil is what we have all been brought up to avoid, but somehow seem to find ourselves sucked in. We covet. Evil is everything that we know is wrong, but love to do. To be evil is to have no respect for others, their properties, their lives.
A character that is evil? I don't know if such a character exists in writing, because even the villains have to have a desirable quality to make the story compelling. I'll give it a try.
Evil is selfishness, vanity. Evil is sin. Evil is what we have all been brought up to avoid, but somehow seem to find ourselves sucked in. We covet. Evil is everything that we know is wrong, but love to do. To be evil is to have no respect for others, their properties, their lives.
A character that is evil? I don't know if such a character exists in writing, because even the villains have to have a desirable quality to make the story compelling. I'll give it a try.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
The third arm
I awoke and rolled over as my 3rd arm slapped the pillow.
Wouldn't your head be on the pillow?
So wouldn't you like slap yourself in the face?
Just a question.
Wouldn't your head be on the pillow?
So wouldn't you like slap yourself in the face?
Just a question.
Tik Tok, the State Drama version
Wake up in the morning, feeling really shitty
Grab my costume, I'm out the door, I'm gonna hit this city
Before I leave, paint some eyeliner on really black
'Cause when I leave for the day, I won’t get no slack
I'm talking everybody on the bus, bus
Mrs. Redd trying not to cuss, cuss
Everyone getting to know us, us
Waste time with ninja destruction
Create a hallway obstruction
Trying to get interaction
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we’re gonna fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Ain't got a care in world, but got plenty of cheer
Ready to perform the GPA, but the judge isn’t here
And now, Central’s lining up cuz they see we got glasses
But they laugh their freaking heads off when we diss on the masses
I'm talking about everybody getting crunk, crunk
We keep losing track of all our junk, junk
Yuki’s make-up really stunk, stunk
Now, now, we go until they kick us out, out
Or the volunteers shut us down, down
Coaches shut us down, down
Po-po shut us
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Judges, you build us up
You break us down
Our hearts, they pound
While we pray hard
With my hands clenched
Sweat on my brow
Waiting for that sound
Yeah, you got me
Judges, you build us up
You break us down
Our hearts, they pound
While we pray hard
Get your hopes up
Get your hopes up
Get your hopes up
Now, the party don't start ‘til Sundance wins
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama really rocked, oh
Grab my costume, I'm out the door, I'm gonna hit this city
Before I leave, paint some eyeliner on really black
'Cause when I leave for the day, I won’t get no slack
I'm talking everybody on the bus, bus
Mrs. Redd trying not to cuss, cuss
Everyone getting to know us, us
Waste time with ninja destruction
Create a hallway obstruction
Trying to get interaction
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we’re gonna fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Ain't got a care in world, but got plenty of cheer
Ready to perform the GPA, but the judge isn’t here
And now, Central’s lining up cuz they see we got glasses
But they laugh their freaking heads off when we diss on the masses
I'm talking about everybody getting crunk, crunk
We keep losing track of all our junk, junk
Yuki’s make-up really stunk, stunk
Now, now, we go until they kick us out, out
Or the volunteers shut us down, down
Coaches shut us down, down
Po-po shut us
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Judges, you build us up
You break us down
Our hearts, they pound
While we pray hard
With my hands clenched
Sweat on my brow
Waiting for that sound
Yeah, you got me
Judges, you build us up
You break us down
Our hearts, they pound
While we pray hard
Get your hopes up
Get your hopes up
Get your hopes up
Now, the party don't start ‘til Sundance wins
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama’s gonna rock, oh
Don't stop, reach for the top
Mal-Pal, blow them speakers up
Tonight, we will fight
To stay in the spotlight
Tick tock not a jock
But State Drama really rocked, oh
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Eulogy of the Substitute Teacher, in a poem form.
I thought I had seen fury before, but that was nothing like this.
Oh substitute teacher.
How we fumed over your iron will to make us young souls behave.
But alas, you'll find these young souls are brave
Moan and groan and threaten all you like
But promptly you will find our dislike for you will spike
And then Kiki's lover will get his name written down
We will teach you by the end of the hour that you don't wear the crown
On these days without Redd, this classroom do we rule
So get over it and realize that you're making youself a fool
We know what to do, and will do what we want instead
Calm down and sit there quietly, lest you end up without your head
You think our will is something that you stole
But sorry to tell you substitute, its us that are in control
Oh substitute teacher.
How we fumed over your iron will to make us young souls behave.
But alas, you'll find these young souls are brave
Moan and groan and threaten all you like
But promptly you will find our dislike for you will spike
And then Kiki's lover will get his name written down
We will teach you by the end of the hour that you don't wear the crown
On these days without Redd, this classroom do we rule
So get over it and realize that you're making youself a fool
We know what to do, and will do what we want instead
Calm down and sit there quietly, lest you end up without your head
You think our will is something that you stole
But sorry to tell you substitute, its us that are in control
Friday, February 19, 2010
Laws of Life
Diamond in the Rough
There are probably an infinite amount of laws of life. Everyone knows the standard ones: integrity, honesty, faith…it can go on. Then there are the true gems. Those secrets to life that are so precious, so secret, and so craftily hidden that only the few privileged with a special vision realize they are there. This is one of those jewels, something to carry in your pocket when you don’t really understand how to go on. It takes an open mind and a receptive heart to understand. Most people don’t realize that acting stupid can benefit you in many walks of life. The doors of life will open wide if you remember the benefit of doing something stupid every day.
This may seem like an exceedingly strange concept. What could the profit in acting stupid possibly be? When most people think about the consequences, they think of rejection and abandonment. Let’s start with the basics. When you do something stupid, you are presenting yourself to the world, albeit an elaborate and slightly exaggerated version of yourself. The behavior of someone acting stupid allows others to instantly make a decision about you. There is no second-guessing, they either accept or reject you for your actions. This is a way to weed out the people that are going to be true friends from the ones that will judge you for every little thing. If a person sees your behavior and automatically dismisses you, they are judgmental and would most likely not be a good person to have in your life. A true friend will recognize your behavior for you and accept it. If you act how you truly feel and do something stupid, you will attract like-minded people that have things in common with you. They will recognize you as a kindred spirit and migrate to your circle and you will no longer be alone. Deep down, we all thrive on socializing.
Other than finding you friends, acting stupid can always present desirable qualities to prospective employers. Doing something stupid in public displays your will to take risks. Employers look for such a quality because it means that you will go out there and do what you have to do to further the company rather than just sit at your desk and follow routine every day. Acting stupid helps you build confidence, making you believe in your image of yourself rather than the image of what others think of you. It lets you embrace your inner being, including the things known as your inner child, but really could just be thought of as the ‘you’ that you hide behind a façade every day. Coming out of your shell and singing to the world solidifies your belief in who you are, not who everyone wants you to be. Those are the kind of people that employers are looking for, someone that will take a stand and pitch their own ideas, instead of just nodding and agreeing with everything the boss suggests. You make an impression when you act like this. That person looking to hire will remember you out of all the applicants, all of the “I’m smart, driven, educated, goal-oriented, and I’m very excited about what your company is doing.” people. Your entire self will be presented right from the start, rather than the boss finding out later some quality of you that they don’t want. At the end of the day, it really boils down to presenting your whole self honestly and not just your good qualities.
This last benefit is kind of a selfish one. It entirely has to do with you. Just you and how you treat yourself. Have you ever felt trapped inside your mind? There are all these things that you want to get up and do, but your brain refuses to send the right command to your nerve endings? There is a way to break free of that. Stop thinking about what everyone is going to say if you line dance in the hallway or wear a fluorescent fishnet top. Have some fun already! Get out there. The world is waiting for you, it’s proposing to you on bended knee. Just dig down deep inside and find that courage that you had in elementary school when you played Harry Potter every recess, grab hold, and yank it out of the safe we all create inside to hide the undesirable parts of ourselves. How are other people possibly going to accept you if you don’t accept yourself? There are a lot of questions to be answered and a lot of risks to be taken. It sounds like an impossible task, but it truly isn’t.
In the noble words of Nike, just do it. Stop going through a routine everyday and put some fun back into your life. There are so many amazing opportunities that lay before you if you are just willing to reach out and say “I do.” Once you open the doors of stupidity, you open the doors to friends that will love you, employers that will trust you, and a new self-confidence that shines. That confident stupidity is down there, being crushed by the pressures of everyday life. However, we all know from science class that something ugly that undergoes pressure turns into something beautiful. Your new confident self is waiting, a diamond in the rough. Dig it up, clean it off, and cut and refine that jewel until it gleams. Wear that jewel proudly and just give it a try, do something stupid every day.
There are probably an infinite amount of laws of life. Everyone knows the standard ones: integrity, honesty, faith…it can go on. Then there are the true gems. Those secrets to life that are so precious, so secret, and so craftily hidden that only the few privileged with a special vision realize they are there. This is one of those jewels, something to carry in your pocket when you don’t really understand how to go on. It takes an open mind and a receptive heart to understand. Most people don’t realize that acting stupid can benefit you in many walks of life. The doors of life will open wide if you remember the benefit of doing something stupid every day.
This may seem like an exceedingly strange concept. What could the profit in acting stupid possibly be? When most people think about the consequences, they think of rejection and abandonment. Let’s start with the basics. When you do something stupid, you are presenting yourself to the world, albeit an elaborate and slightly exaggerated version of yourself. The behavior of someone acting stupid allows others to instantly make a decision about you. There is no second-guessing, they either accept or reject you for your actions. This is a way to weed out the people that are going to be true friends from the ones that will judge you for every little thing. If a person sees your behavior and automatically dismisses you, they are judgmental and would most likely not be a good person to have in your life. A true friend will recognize your behavior for you and accept it. If you act how you truly feel and do something stupid, you will attract like-minded people that have things in common with you. They will recognize you as a kindred spirit and migrate to your circle and you will no longer be alone. Deep down, we all thrive on socializing.
Other than finding you friends, acting stupid can always present desirable qualities to prospective employers. Doing something stupid in public displays your will to take risks. Employers look for such a quality because it means that you will go out there and do what you have to do to further the company rather than just sit at your desk and follow routine every day. Acting stupid helps you build confidence, making you believe in your image of yourself rather than the image of what others think of you. It lets you embrace your inner being, including the things known as your inner child, but really could just be thought of as the ‘you’ that you hide behind a façade every day. Coming out of your shell and singing to the world solidifies your belief in who you are, not who everyone wants you to be. Those are the kind of people that employers are looking for, someone that will take a stand and pitch their own ideas, instead of just nodding and agreeing with everything the boss suggests. You make an impression when you act like this. That person looking to hire will remember you out of all the applicants, all of the “I’m smart, driven, educated, goal-oriented, and I’m very excited about what your company is doing.” people. Your entire self will be presented right from the start, rather than the boss finding out later some quality of you that they don’t want. At the end of the day, it really boils down to presenting your whole self honestly and not just your good qualities.
This last benefit is kind of a selfish one. It entirely has to do with you. Just you and how you treat yourself. Have you ever felt trapped inside your mind? There are all these things that you want to get up and do, but your brain refuses to send the right command to your nerve endings? There is a way to break free of that. Stop thinking about what everyone is going to say if you line dance in the hallway or wear a fluorescent fishnet top. Have some fun already! Get out there. The world is waiting for you, it’s proposing to you on bended knee. Just dig down deep inside and find that courage that you had in elementary school when you played Harry Potter every recess, grab hold, and yank it out of the safe we all create inside to hide the undesirable parts of ourselves. How are other people possibly going to accept you if you don’t accept yourself? There are a lot of questions to be answered and a lot of risks to be taken. It sounds like an impossible task, but it truly isn’t.
In the noble words of Nike, just do it. Stop going through a routine everyday and put some fun back into your life. There are so many amazing opportunities that lay before you if you are just willing to reach out and say “I do.” Once you open the doors of stupidity, you open the doors to friends that will love you, employers that will trust you, and a new self-confidence that shines. That confident stupidity is down there, being crushed by the pressures of everyday life. However, we all know from science class that something ugly that undergoes pressure turns into something beautiful. Your new confident self is waiting, a diamond in the rough. Dig it up, clean it off, and cut and refine that jewel until it gleams. Wear that jewel proudly and just give it a try, do something stupid every day.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Friendship part 2
This is something that can't be undone
You're so sure that he's the one
My heart is hurt and you did it
You're lucky I didn't throw a fit
Maybe you think it's no big deal
But hurts like this take a lot to heal
I'm not sure how to tell you
But one more time and we are through
What you did isn't right
Better fix it before i give up the fight
You're so sure that he's the one
My heart is hurt and you did it
You're lucky I didn't throw a fit
Maybe you think it's no big deal
But hurts like this take a lot to heal
I'm not sure how to tell you
But one more time and we are through
What you did isn't right
Better fix it before i give up the fight
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Hopeless part two
Four long weeks later, I was in the shooting range down in the bowels of the ship. The paper target teased me from afar. I squinted down the barrel of my pistol. Nothing had changed. Nothing ever changed. I was always training, working out, attending meetings, and waiting. It used to be that I would be going out on missions too, but my six month grounding was still in effect.
My ear buds in my ears, muffs safely in place to keep them protected, kept me in the zone. My lips moved silently in time with the lyrics.
A hot, bubbling sensation filled my abdomen and pain seared my throat. Enormous pressure filled my skull until I thought my head would explode. Slowly, I shoved the feelings aside until I couldn’t feel the pain.
My concentration returned to the target. I eased my finger over the smooth metal of the trigger. Ready to fire, my aim is true….
A flash of movement in the corner of my eye. I whipped around to face the intruder. The gun was pulled gently from my grip.
“Solomon,” I breathed, recognizing him. I removed the ear muffs and one ear bud. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. I could have shot you.”
“As if I would be injured by a bullet,” he retorted lightly, examining my gun. “Should a girl like you really have access to something like this?”
“I need it to protect myself when I go out on missions,” I informed him, holding out my hand to take it back. He set it aside, out of my reach.
“But you won’t be going anywhere for the next three months, correct?”
I made a face. Solomon laughed.
“It’s not funny! I hate being grounded to this cursed ship!”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that you being grounded makes you seem so normal.” He took my still outstretched hand and pulled me closer. “But you are not normal, are you?”
My lips twitched, but did not form a smile. In a move that could only be performed by an accomplished dancer, Solomon spun me into his arms. I couldn’t help it. I laughed, feeling special.
“That was impressive, Mr. Goldsmith,” I said playfully. “You’ve got skills.”
“I’ve had years of practice,” he replied easily, twirling me again for emphasis. I spun easily on my toes. “Are you a dancer, Kay?”
“I took lessons when I was little, but I don’t dance anymore. It doesn’t really benefit me.”
The music playing in my ear stopped as he took my mp3 from me. I watched him plug the device into the speakers on a nearby table and search my playlist for something appropriate. Slow, classical music started playing. Solomon took my hand again.
“Show me,” he said softly. I shook my head. “Please.
With a sigh of defeat, I closed my eyes and listened to the music. An arm encircled my waist as my feet started to move. Within seconds, we were effortlessly moving in sync. Some of the steps that seemed awkward in childhood were easy now, in this new grown-up body of mine. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so graceful.
He was watching me when I opened my eyes. I felt my cheeks flame red from the look on his face. The song ended.
“What?” I asked. We stopped dancing, but Solomon was still looking at me.
“You enjoy dancing. I’ve never seen you look serene, not even when you’re sleeping. You’ve always got that worry wrinkle.” He poked my forehead. I jumped away.
“Whatever,” I muttered, tugging at my choker, trying to untie the knot.
“You can be so bitter sometimes, Kay,” Solomon commented, gently removing the necklace. I waited.
And then pain. Pressure. He hadn’t even touched me yet. These sensations weren’t what I experienced when he bit me. My throat burned. I felt like a change was coming over me. A physical change, and a mental change. I cringed, cradling my head in my hands.
“No, make it stop. Make it stop!”
Was that pitiful, whining voice coming from my throat? Surely I would never show such weakness, especially in front of him. But it hurt. It hurt so much that I just wanted to die. Die or give in to the change in me that I had been suppressing for so long.
“What’s wrong? Kay, please calm down,” he pleaded with me. I could barely hear him. My face was wet. Was I crying? No, it was sweat.
Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Get a grip, remember who you are, I tell myself. Tell him what you need.
“Just do it,” I managed to say through clenched teeth. “Do it now.”
Momentary confusion. He doesn’t understand or doesn’t want to. And then he softly brushed my hair aside. My heart pounded in my chest.
Sharp pain. Being held tenderly. A warm body pressed against mine. Dull pounding. Dizzy. The sensation of blood being drank from my body, rushing out of my skin.
This time I didn’t pass out. He was being careful. The moment I got dizzy, he was done. I got ready to step away, but Solomon swept me off my feet and carried me bridal style over to the table. My neck still bled sluggishly.
“Put me down,” I ordered. He set me down on the table so our faces were level.
“Do you feel better?” he asked. I nodded. “Good. What happened to you. You looked so…”
“Helpless. Weak. Pathetic,” I supplied.
“Is that what you think? Kay, please let me finish. You looked so scared.”
“Bullshit!” I exclaimed. “I wasn’t scared and you are very wrong to think I was.”
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
I shook my head. It was my secret, my problem, and my burden. He didn’t need to know.
“I wish you would trust me. Well Kay, I should go. Please be careful. You can be so reckless.”
“I’ll be good,” I promised. “Don’t forget me.”
I left first, running up to my room. The door opened before I turned the knob. It was David, waiting for me to come back from target practice. His eyes darted from my shocked face to the choker in my hand, and finally to the bite marks on my neck.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t form a logical thought in my head. Something told me that he couldn’t either. We stared at each other, waiting for the pieces to fall into place, for the electronic message to travel across our nerve endings.
“David?” I managed to say. “Take a deep breath. It’s not as bad as you think.”
“Not as bad as I think? How can it be not be as bad as I think? You…is this what you have been keeping from us?”
I couldn’t say anything. My mind was blank; my body numb. David gripped my wrist tightly. I reacted instantly.
“No, David! Don’t tell Joel! Please, please, I’m begging you!”
My efforts yielded me nothing. I was dragged to my guardian’s office. My free hand came up to cover the marks although I knew it was useless. David pushed me forward towards Joel’s desk.
“Tell Joel, Kaelin.”
The fight that followed isn’t even worth mentioning. Joel and David took turns yelling at me, I yelled back. I cried, but didn’t show any weakness. Standing defiant, I told them that they couldn’t keep Solomon and I apart. It’s funny. To an outsider, it would sound like we were arguing about an older boy I was seeing.
Back to my room. Collapse into bed. Numb. Close my eyes. Sleep.
My ear buds in my ears, muffs safely in place to keep them protected, kept me in the zone. My lips moved silently in time with the lyrics.
A hot, bubbling sensation filled my abdomen and pain seared my throat. Enormous pressure filled my skull until I thought my head would explode. Slowly, I shoved the feelings aside until I couldn’t feel the pain.
My concentration returned to the target. I eased my finger over the smooth metal of the trigger. Ready to fire, my aim is true….
A flash of movement in the corner of my eye. I whipped around to face the intruder. The gun was pulled gently from my grip.
“Solomon,” I breathed, recognizing him. I removed the ear muffs and one ear bud. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. I could have shot you.”
“As if I would be injured by a bullet,” he retorted lightly, examining my gun. “Should a girl like you really have access to something like this?”
“I need it to protect myself when I go out on missions,” I informed him, holding out my hand to take it back. He set it aside, out of my reach.
“But you won’t be going anywhere for the next three months, correct?”
I made a face. Solomon laughed.
“It’s not funny! I hate being grounded to this cursed ship!”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that you being grounded makes you seem so normal.” He took my still outstretched hand and pulled me closer. “But you are not normal, are you?”
My lips twitched, but did not form a smile. In a move that could only be performed by an accomplished dancer, Solomon spun me into his arms. I couldn’t help it. I laughed, feeling special.
“That was impressive, Mr. Goldsmith,” I said playfully. “You’ve got skills.”
“I’ve had years of practice,” he replied easily, twirling me again for emphasis. I spun easily on my toes. “Are you a dancer, Kay?”
“I took lessons when I was little, but I don’t dance anymore. It doesn’t really benefit me.”
The music playing in my ear stopped as he took my mp3 from me. I watched him plug the device into the speakers on a nearby table and search my playlist for something appropriate. Slow, classical music started playing. Solomon took my hand again.
“Show me,” he said softly. I shook my head. “Please.
With a sigh of defeat, I closed my eyes and listened to the music. An arm encircled my waist as my feet started to move. Within seconds, we were effortlessly moving in sync. Some of the steps that seemed awkward in childhood were easy now, in this new grown-up body of mine. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so graceful.
He was watching me when I opened my eyes. I felt my cheeks flame red from the look on his face. The song ended.
“What?” I asked. We stopped dancing, but Solomon was still looking at me.
“You enjoy dancing. I’ve never seen you look serene, not even when you’re sleeping. You’ve always got that worry wrinkle.” He poked my forehead. I jumped away.
“Whatever,” I muttered, tugging at my choker, trying to untie the knot.
“You can be so bitter sometimes, Kay,” Solomon commented, gently removing the necklace. I waited.
And then pain. Pressure. He hadn’t even touched me yet. These sensations weren’t what I experienced when he bit me. My throat burned. I felt like a change was coming over me. A physical change, and a mental change. I cringed, cradling my head in my hands.
“No, make it stop. Make it stop!”
Was that pitiful, whining voice coming from my throat? Surely I would never show such weakness, especially in front of him. But it hurt. It hurt so much that I just wanted to die. Die or give in to the change in me that I had been suppressing for so long.
“What’s wrong? Kay, please calm down,” he pleaded with me. I could barely hear him. My face was wet. Was I crying? No, it was sweat.
Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Get a grip, remember who you are, I tell myself. Tell him what you need.
“Just do it,” I managed to say through clenched teeth. “Do it now.”
Momentary confusion. He doesn’t understand or doesn’t want to. And then he softly brushed my hair aside. My heart pounded in my chest.
Sharp pain. Being held tenderly. A warm body pressed against mine. Dull pounding. Dizzy. The sensation of blood being drank from my body, rushing out of my skin.
This time I didn’t pass out. He was being careful. The moment I got dizzy, he was done. I got ready to step away, but Solomon swept me off my feet and carried me bridal style over to the table. My neck still bled sluggishly.
“Put me down,” I ordered. He set me down on the table so our faces were level.
“Do you feel better?” he asked. I nodded. “Good. What happened to you. You looked so…”
“Helpless. Weak. Pathetic,” I supplied.
“Is that what you think? Kay, please let me finish. You looked so scared.”
“Bullshit!” I exclaimed. “I wasn’t scared and you are very wrong to think I was.”
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
I shook my head. It was my secret, my problem, and my burden. He didn’t need to know.
“I wish you would trust me. Well Kay, I should go. Please be careful. You can be so reckless.”
“I’ll be good,” I promised. “Don’t forget me.”
I left first, running up to my room. The door opened before I turned the knob. It was David, waiting for me to come back from target practice. His eyes darted from my shocked face to the choker in my hand, and finally to the bite marks on my neck.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t form a logical thought in my head. Something told me that he couldn’t either. We stared at each other, waiting for the pieces to fall into place, for the electronic message to travel across our nerve endings.
“David?” I managed to say. “Take a deep breath. It’s not as bad as you think.”
“Not as bad as I think? How can it be not be as bad as I think? You…is this what you have been keeping from us?”
I couldn’t say anything. My mind was blank; my body numb. David gripped my wrist tightly. I reacted instantly.
“No, David! Don’t tell Joel! Please, please, I’m begging you!”
My efforts yielded me nothing. I was dragged to my guardian’s office. My free hand came up to cover the marks although I knew it was useless. David pushed me forward towards Joel’s desk.
“Tell Joel, Kaelin.”
The fight that followed isn’t even worth mentioning. Joel and David took turns yelling at me, I yelled back. I cried, but didn’t show any weakness. Standing defiant, I told them that they couldn’t keep Solomon and I apart. It’s funny. To an outsider, it would sound like we were arguing about an older boy I was seeing.
Back to my room. Collapse into bed. Numb. Close my eyes. Sleep.
Hopeless (Blood+ fanfic)
lood+It all started with an over-eager twelve year old on an everlasting quest to prove herself. It started with her search for her place in the world. It started with a girl looking, always looking, for acceptance and a feeling that she had lost and desperately wanted back. It started with the prick of a needle.
My sixteenth birthday came and went without celebration. That’s okay. I didn’t want to celebrate anyway. It just reminded me that time was still passing. I was still getting older. It had been another year since the tragedy at Italy, another year since the event that had sealed my fate. I didn’t care for my birthday much. I didn’t care for anything much.
My name is Kaelin Taralynn Lizzio, Kay for short, and I am sixteen years old. I was born in Italy, in a small town nestled between mountains and the sea. Not that you care. I exist in a world that you will never see, the victim of a secret history that you will never know.
At least I hope you will never know it.
I stood at the rail of the ship, watching the sunset. The Red Shield’s headquarters is on this ship, or should I say is the ship. The Red Shield is the organization that I joined after leaving Italy. We have one goal. To eradicate chiropterans and protect the innocent citizens of the world. Chiropterans are disgusting, vile creatures. They drink the blood of the living. They are mindless, without concepts of mercy or self-control. The Red Shield wants to rid the Earth of chiropterans and in order to do that, we must exterminate Diva.
The sun sank slowly into the horizon, a beautiful sight. I had watched the sun set as often as possible since I was a little girl. Mama used to scold me and say that I would ruin my eyesight. There was just something so calming about the sun going down at the end of the day.
When I couldn’t see the sun anymore, I glanced at my watch and sighed. It looked like another day would go by without a visit from him. How much longer could I last?
“Kay?”
The sound startled me, though it was my expected visitor that said my name. Still, my heart skipped a beat. I did a quick one-eighty, keeping my face impassive, like I didn’t really care that he had shown. The worst part is that I did care. A lot.
Even with my loathing of his kind, he was the most gorgeous man I had ever laid eyes on. I knew my eyes were steely grey as I looked him over, like I was seeing him for the first time.
“Solomon, I was starting to wonder if you had forgotten me,” I said dryly. My hands clenched to stop them from shaking. “Six weeks?”
He laughed and reached up to brush my short raven hair out of my eyes. Inexplicable joy shined out of his sea green eyes. I saw that joy often, but I never understood it. Solomon looked spotless as always in a white suit with blue striped tie. We must have looked comical, every inch of him the young successful businessman, me, the tomboy who didn’t care in my tank top and jeans. My hand twitched, wanting to reach up and run my fingers through his blond curls. I shoved the traitorous hand in my pocket.
“I could never forget you and what you do for me, dear. I’m just busy, as are you. Or am I mistaken and Saya has not come aboard the ship after what happened at the Zoo?” Solomon said softly, the same hand that had been playing with my hair moving to brush the side of my neck and untie the wide ribbon choker I wore there. The heavy silver pendant fell into my hand.
At this particular point in my life, that silver heart represented all that I was. It was a gift from my foster father, Joel, for my fourteenth birthday. The silver heart locket was very old-fashioned, like something straight out of the eighteenth century. Joel know of my love for history when he picked it out. The front was adorned with red crystals, the remains of defeated chiropterans. These crystals are what marked me as a member of the Red Shield, my proof to all doubters that I belonged to the organization. Inside were pictures of the two people I missed most, my mother and my older brother, Darin. Their smiles shined at me through the glass, but failed to warm my stubborn heart.
A light touch brought me back to my senses, taking my mind off the past. My family wasn’t important anymore. His fingers skimmed my sensitive, pale skin, sending pleasant tingles down my spine. My heart rate sped up in anticipation. His breath was hot against my neck.
“Are you ready?” he asked, hands gently gripping my shoulders. I felt all of my muscles tighten. Solomon sighed behind me. His strong arms wrapped around my shoulders in a hug, shocking me with sudden affection. “Kay, we go through this every time. How often must I tell you not to tense up?”
He spoke soothingly in my ear, filling me with conflicting emotions. My first instinct was to pull away. My hands went up to try and break his contact with my body, but moments later they dropped.
“Just relax. Please, Kay, it will go much easier on you.”
It seemed like he had discovered my weakness. For some reason my iron will always crumbled under one utterance of ‘please’, but only when it came from Solomon’s lips. The tension in my muscles melted.
“That’s better,” he muttered, touching his lips to my skin. I closed my eyes. My pulse pounded in my ears.
Sharp pain. Being held tenderly. A warm body pressed against mine. Dull pounding. Dizzy. The sensation of blood being drank from my body, rushing out of my skin.
A wave of blackness starts rolling towards my mind, followed by a wave of relief. The world went dark.
The other feelings had faded by the time I woke, except I was still being held gently in someone’s arms. My fingers explored the skin on my neck until I located the two small puncture wounds. The bleeding had stopped, but it still hurt.
“So, you’re awake?”
The query was soft, in case I was still sleeping. My head started to clear the clouds of sleep. We were sitting against the ships rail. Well, Solomon leaned against it, supporting me in his arms. My eyes opened to soft moonlight and twinkling stars. Night had fallen while I slept. His embrace was so warm that I didn’t move, his arms around me protecting me from the chill of the night.
“Kay?” His tone was slightly worried. I could tell that he knew I was awake. “Are you feeling all right? I panicked when you passed out. I’m so rough on you.”
I felt fingers in my hair.
“I remember a time when if I fainted you would just leave me laying on the deck in an unconscious heap,” I said quietly, shifting to looked up at his serene face. “That happened, what? Once? Twice?”
“I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention things like that, Kaelin,” Solomon scolded gently. “We have moved past those times. Why don’t we change the subject?”
“To what?”
“Why do you let me do this to you? Let me hurt you and take your blood when it doesn’t seem to benefit you any?”
I jumped up like I was sitting on fire. My hands twisted nervously behind my back. This was the question that I had been avoiding for months.
“That’s not relevant,” I said, and then cursed my stupidity. I could never win a logic battle with Solomon. He could convince me that the world was flat if he wanted to.
“Kay, you always get so jumpy when I bring it up. I’ve thought and thought about it, brewed up and then discarded dozens of theories,” he said, getting to his feet. I took a step back automatically, trying to look innocent. Solomon wasn’t going for the act. “You know that doesn’t work on me. Kay, I have to know.”
“You don’t have to know anything. Can’t you just accept it, no strings attached?”
“No.” Solomon brushed my hair out of my face again. I shook my head just so it would fall back in place. He stubbornly fixed it again. “This is important. You are important.”
“Trust me, I’m not nearly as important as you think,” I said as the alarm bells started to ring all around us. My face twisted into a grimace. We both knew what that meant.
“Important enough to put the whole ship on alert, it would seem. You underestimate yourself all the time, dear.” He grinned and got ready to depart, putting one pale hand on the rail.
I glanced over my shoulder to watch for soldiers.
“No, Joel is just para—” I turned back to look at him. Solomon had gone. “—noid.”
“Soon,” a phantom voice whispered. Although it might have been my imagination. I tied the ribbon around my neck, slipped my mp3 out of my pocket, put in my headphones, and trotted away to assure everyone that I was alive and well.
Sighs of relief echoed around me when I arrived in Joel’s office. I rolled my eyes. My guardian had put everyone into a panic for nothing.
“Kay, where have you been?” Joel asked anxiously, blue eyes scanning me for injuries or signs of distress.
“On the port deck, watching the sun set,” I lied easily. “It’s not my fault that your soldiers don’t look everywhere when you tell them to.
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“I left it in my room so you wouldn’t bother me while I was relaxing. We go through this every time, Joel, and it’s getting a little old. I’m not a child anymore. Doesn’t this mean that I’m considered an adult in my duty to the Red Shield?” I touched the locket at my throat.
Joel sighed and said, “Your duty and your station in life as a child or an adult are two separate subjects that are to be discussed later.”
I knew a dismissal when I heard one. Instead of arguing, I returned to my room for the night. The walls were bare of decoration. A few framed photos stood on my desk. My closet held very little color, except for a few articles that I never wore. Those were presents from before people got to know me. I plugged my mp3 into my speakers and let my music fill my ears. Now I only had to wait for him to come back. Until then, I was empty.
My sixteenth birthday came and went without celebration. That’s okay. I didn’t want to celebrate anyway. It just reminded me that time was still passing. I was still getting older. It had been another year since the tragedy at Italy, another year since the event that had sealed my fate. I didn’t care for my birthday much. I didn’t care for anything much.
My name is Kaelin Taralynn Lizzio, Kay for short, and I am sixteen years old. I was born in Italy, in a small town nestled between mountains and the sea. Not that you care. I exist in a world that you will never see, the victim of a secret history that you will never know.
At least I hope you will never know it.
I stood at the rail of the ship, watching the sunset. The Red Shield’s headquarters is on this ship, or should I say is the ship. The Red Shield is the organization that I joined after leaving Italy. We have one goal. To eradicate chiropterans and protect the innocent citizens of the world. Chiropterans are disgusting, vile creatures. They drink the blood of the living. They are mindless, without concepts of mercy or self-control. The Red Shield wants to rid the Earth of chiropterans and in order to do that, we must exterminate Diva.
The sun sank slowly into the horizon, a beautiful sight. I had watched the sun set as often as possible since I was a little girl. Mama used to scold me and say that I would ruin my eyesight. There was just something so calming about the sun going down at the end of the day.
When I couldn’t see the sun anymore, I glanced at my watch and sighed. It looked like another day would go by without a visit from him. How much longer could I last?
“Kay?”
The sound startled me, though it was my expected visitor that said my name. Still, my heart skipped a beat. I did a quick one-eighty, keeping my face impassive, like I didn’t really care that he had shown. The worst part is that I did care. A lot.
Even with my loathing of his kind, he was the most gorgeous man I had ever laid eyes on. I knew my eyes were steely grey as I looked him over, like I was seeing him for the first time.
“Solomon, I was starting to wonder if you had forgotten me,” I said dryly. My hands clenched to stop them from shaking. “Six weeks?”
He laughed and reached up to brush my short raven hair out of my eyes. Inexplicable joy shined out of his sea green eyes. I saw that joy often, but I never understood it. Solomon looked spotless as always in a white suit with blue striped tie. We must have looked comical, every inch of him the young successful businessman, me, the tomboy who didn’t care in my tank top and jeans. My hand twitched, wanting to reach up and run my fingers through his blond curls. I shoved the traitorous hand in my pocket.
“I could never forget you and what you do for me, dear. I’m just busy, as are you. Or am I mistaken and Saya has not come aboard the ship after what happened at the Zoo?” Solomon said softly, the same hand that had been playing with my hair moving to brush the side of my neck and untie the wide ribbon choker I wore there. The heavy silver pendant fell into my hand.
At this particular point in my life, that silver heart represented all that I was. It was a gift from my foster father, Joel, for my fourteenth birthday. The silver heart locket was very old-fashioned, like something straight out of the eighteenth century. Joel know of my love for history when he picked it out. The front was adorned with red crystals, the remains of defeated chiropterans. These crystals are what marked me as a member of the Red Shield, my proof to all doubters that I belonged to the organization. Inside were pictures of the two people I missed most, my mother and my older brother, Darin. Their smiles shined at me through the glass, but failed to warm my stubborn heart.
A light touch brought me back to my senses, taking my mind off the past. My family wasn’t important anymore. His fingers skimmed my sensitive, pale skin, sending pleasant tingles down my spine. My heart rate sped up in anticipation. His breath was hot against my neck.
“Are you ready?” he asked, hands gently gripping my shoulders. I felt all of my muscles tighten. Solomon sighed behind me. His strong arms wrapped around my shoulders in a hug, shocking me with sudden affection. “Kay, we go through this every time. How often must I tell you not to tense up?”
He spoke soothingly in my ear, filling me with conflicting emotions. My first instinct was to pull away. My hands went up to try and break his contact with my body, but moments later they dropped.
“Just relax. Please, Kay, it will go much easier on you.”
It seemed like he had discovered my weakness. For some reason my iron will always crumbled under one utterance of ‘please’, but only when it came from Solomon’s lips. The tension in my muscles melted.
“That’s better,” he muttered, touching his lips to my skin. I closed my eyes. My pulse pounded in my ears.
Sharp pain. Being held tenderly. A warm body pressed against mine. Dull pounding. Dizzy. The sensation of blood being drank from my body, rushing out of my skin.
A wave of blackness starts rolling towards my mind, followed by a wave of relief. The world went dark.
The other feelings had faded by the time I woke, except I was still being held gently in someone’s arms. My fingers explored the skin on my neck until I located the two small puncture wounds. The bleeding had stopped, but it still hurt.
“So, you’re awake?”
The query was soft, in case I was still sleeping. My head started to clear the clouds of sleep. We were sitting against the ships rail. Well, Solomon leaned against it, supporting me in his arms. My eyes opened to soft moonlight and twinkling stars. Night had fallen while I slept. His embrace was so warm that I didn’t move, his arms around me protecting me from the chill of the night.
“Kay?” His tone was slightly worried. I could tell that he knew I was awake. “Are you feeling all right? I panicked when you passed out. I’m so rough on you.”
I felt fingers in my hair.
“I remember a time when if I fainted you would just leave me laying on the deck in an unconscious heap,” I said quietly, shifting to looked up at his serene face. “That happened, what? Once? Twice?”
“I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention things like that, Kaelin,” Solomon scolded gently. “We have moved past those times. Why don’t we change the subject?”
“To what?”
“Why do you let me do this to you? Let me hurt you and take your blood when it doesn’t seem to benefit you any?”
I jumped up like I was sitting on fire. My hands twisted nervously behind my back. This was the question that I had been avoiding for months.
“That’s not relevant,” I said, and then cursed my stupidity. I could never win a logic battle with Solomon. He could convince me that the world was flat if he wanted to.
“Kay, you always get so jumpy when I bring it up. I’ve thought and thought about it, brewed up and then discarded dozens of theories,” he said, getting to his feet. I took a step back automatically, trying to look innocent. Solomon wasn’t going for the act. “You know that doesn’t work on me. Kay, I have to know.”
“You don’t have to know anything. Can’t you just accept it, no strings attached?”
“No.” Solomon brushed my hair out of my face again. I shook my head just so it would fall back in place. He stubbornly fixed it again. “This is important. You are important.”
“Trust me, I’m not nearly as important as you think,” I said as the alarm bells started to ring all around us. My face twisted into a grimace. We both knew what that meant.
“Important enough to put the whole ship on alert, it would seem. You underestimate yourself all the time, dear.” He grinned and got ready to depart, putting one pale hand on the rail.
I glanced over my shoulder to watch for soldiers.
“No, Joel is just para—” I turned back to look at him. Solomon had gone. “—noid.”
“Soon,” a phantom voice whispered. Although it might have been my imagination. I tied the ribbon around my neck, slipped my mp3 out of my pocket, put in my headphones, and trotted away to assure everyone that I was alive and well.
Sighs of relief echoed around me when I arrived in Joel’s office. I rolled my eyes. My guardian had put everyone into a panic for nothing.
“Kay, where have you been?” Joel asked anxiously, blue eyes scanning me for injuries or signs of distress.
“On the port deck, watching the sun set,” I lied easily. “It’s not my fault that your soldiers don’t look everywhere when you tell them to.
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“I left it in my room so you wouldn’t bother me while I was relaxing. We go through this every time, Joel, and it’s getting a little old. I’m not a child anymore. Doesn’t this mean that I’m considered an adult in my duty to the Red Shield?” I touched the locket at my throat.
Joel sighed and said, “Your duty and your station in life as a child or an adult are two separate subjects that are to be discussed later.”
I knew a dismissal when I heard one. Instead of arguing, I returned to my room for the night. The walls were bare of decoration. A few framed photos stood on my desk. My closet held very little color, except for a few articles that I never wore. Those were presents from before people got to know me. I plugged my mp3 into my speakers and let my music fill my ears. Now I only had to wait for him to come back. Until then, I was empty.
Friday, January 29, 2010
It crouched part two
"I see you've gained somewhat of a pompus attitude in the years since last we met. I'll have to rid you of that."
A sudden thrill of fear ran through me. There were so many implications in that simple sentence. Questions raced through my mind. How long was he planning to keep me here? What exactly did he plan to do to me? Why was I even here in the first place?
"What do you mean, rid me of that?" I asked, staring steadily in to his eyes, searching for the truth in their very blue depths.
Damian didn't answer. He simply crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked at me for a few minutes. I couldn't decipher the look on his face, and for some reason I started to go red. Quickly, I looked away, concentrating instead on my bound hands. The mattress moved under me as he once again sat beside me on the bed. I felt his hand gently moving my hair aside. A shiver ran down my spine, a combination of his touch and the chill of the air against my throat. It was then that I realized his intention.
"Get away from me!" I yelled. Despite my bonds, I tried to throw myself to the side. As I did, he grabbed my arm and jerked me back so I landed on my back on the bed. I continued to thrash, trying to get hime off of me as he loomed over me, one hand still clenched tightly around my upper arm. The other hand pushed my hands down by my side and then pinned them there with his knee.
"Stop," he said low and calm, but demanding. My heart was already racing in my chest as I still tried to jerk my hands free. Damian slowly, almost painfully slow, leaned his head down next to mine. He was so close that his breath was moist on my skin. I tried shrugging my shoulder up to my ear to block his target. Impatiently, he grabbed my hai and pulled my head to the other side, leaving him a clear view. I started kicking my legs again, be that did me no good.
The next thing I knew was pain. A small cry escaped me. Although it was only a small spot on m neck, the shock semed to radiate to my toes. my whole body was tensed as the sharp pain faded to a dull throbbing. There were sickening slurping sounds in my ear. I gulped several times, trying to keep the small amount of food I had eaten that day in my stomach. I closed my eyes, imagining that I was home in my own bed. A sudden voice in my ear startled me.
"I've been waiting for this, for you, for so long," Damian whispered. I could feel warm, sticky blood running in rivulets down my neck. He waited a moment to see if I would respond and then bent back down. His tongue was soft as it traced the red trails, cleaning up the blood he had spilled.
A sudden thrill of fear ran through me. There were so many implications in that simple sentence. Questions raced through my mind. How long was he planning to keep me here? What exactly did he plan to do to me? Why was I even here in the first place?
"What do you mean, rid me of that?" I asked, staring steadily in to his eyes, searching for the truth in their very blue depths.
Damian didn't answer. He simply crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked at me for a few minutes. I couldn't decipher the look on his face, and for some reason I started to go red. Quickly, I looked away, concentrating instead on my bound hands. The mattress moved under me as he once again sat beside me on the bed. I felt his hand gently moving my hair aside. A shiver ran down my spine, a combination of his touch and the chill of the air against my throat. It was then that I realized his intention.
"Get away from me!" I yelled. Despite my bonds, I tried to throw myself to the side. As I did, he grabbed my arm and jerked me back so I landed on my back on the bed. I continued to thrash, trying to get hime off of me as he loomed over me, one hand still clenched tightly around my upper arm. The other hand pushed my hands down by my side and then pinned them there with his knee.
"Stop," he said low and calm, but demanding. My heart was already racing in my chest as I still tried to jerk my hands free. Damian slowly, almost painfully slow, leaned his head down next to mine. He was so close that his breath was moist on my skin. I tried shrugging my shoulder up to my ear to block his target. Impatiently, he grabbed my hai and pulled my head to the other side, leaving him a clear view. I started kicking my legs again, be that did me no good.
The next thing I knew was pain. A small cry escaped me. Although it was only a small spot on m neck, the shock semed to radiate to my toes. my whole body was tensed as the sharp pain faded to a dull throbbing. There were sickening slurping sounds in my ear. I gulped several times, trying to keep the small amount of food I had eaten that day in my stomach. I closed my eyes, imagining that I was home in my own bed. A sudden voice in my ear startled me.
"I've been waiting for this, for you, for so long," Damian whispered. I could feel warm, sticky blood running in rivulets down my neck. He waited a moment to see if I would respond and then bent back down. His tongue was soft as it traced the red trails, cleaning up the blood he had spilled.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
V-Day Friendship poem
Okay, I seriously really hate valentines day. But whatever, here it goes.
I know you love him, I know that you do
But you forget quite often that I do too
I love you in a way he can't even compare
And treating me this way just isn't fair
A year ago, we were the best of friends
Now things are quickly headed towards the end
So here's the thing, I just have to say
For us to stay friends there's only one way
Get your head out of the clouds, take a look and see
Change how you do things or you're gonna lose me
I know you love him, I know that you do
But you forget quite often that I do too
I love you in a way he can't even compare
And treating me this way just isn't fair
A year ago, we were the best of friends
Now things are quickly headed towards the end
So here's the thing, I just have to say
For us to stay friends there's only one way
Get your head out of the clouds, take a look and see
Change how you do things or you're gonna lose me
It crouched low, hidden in the shadows...
It crouched low, hidden in the shadows, snarling softly. I tightened my grip on my weapon, a long dagger that shined in the moonlight. The wind blew gently against my heavy cloak, the wool protecting me from the night time chill.
“Ashleigh,” my partner whispered. “Don’t be reckless. We don’t want a repeat of last time.”
“I know, Darin. It won’t get past me this time.”
Vampires. Evil, dirty, disgusting things. All my life, I have been surrounded by them. And now, I hunt them, one by one.
With a yell, I ran forward, propelling myself against the cobblestones. I raised my arm, preparing for the initial attack. It leaped at me and was suddenly illuminated by the gentle glow of the orb above us. He was the most beautiful being I have ever seen. And he was familiar. We both stopped in our tracks.
“Damian?”
“Ashleigh?”
“Why are you hesitating? Kill it!” Darin yelled from behind me. I held up my hand to quiet him. Damian and I looked at each other for a long time. He reached up and pushed my hood off my head. The wind blew my ebony hair into my face. He smiled his beautiful smile.
“How have you been?”
“I’m sorry, Damian,” I started, ignoring his question. My hands were shaking as I raised my dagger. “I have to kill you now.”
Damian’s eyes widened. He put his hands up, as if in surrender.
“After we were just reunited? Come now, you don’t really think I’m going to let that happen, do you?”
Before I could react, before I could even think, his arm was around my waist and the dagger was gone. I couldn’t see where it went. I reached for my pistol. He touched two fingers to my forehead.
“Now, sleep.”
The drowsiness was instant. The gun fell from my limp fingers to the ground. Right before I lost consciousness, I felt a sensation like flying. And then I knew no more.
***
It was warm and comfortable. Yellow light danced on my closed eyelids. Blankets cocooned me as I started to wake and roll over. It was then that I noticed my hands were bound. I tested the knots. The ropes were tight, but not uncomfortable. My ankles were bound together as well. Starting to panic, I shot into a sitting position.
The room was decorated very sparsely, but in good taste. An oil lamp flickered on the nightstand next to the bed. A stove and oven were tucked away in the corner, a small square table and two chairs occupied the middle space of the room. All these details I took in quickly, while I reached for the necklace I always wore, which concealed a small knife I could use to cut my bonds. It was gone. I did a quick inventory. My cloak was gone, as was the light jacket I had been wearing underneath. My boots were across the room, by the only door. Someone had undressed me and taken all my weapons. It was then that he came in the room.
“Ah, you’re awake. Are you hungry?”
I glared, but he seemed unperturbed by the ice in my eyes.
“You will return my weapons to me and you will do so immediately,” I said in my most demanding voice. Damian chuckled.
“I can’t do that, Ashleigh, not when you intend to kill me.” He brought me a glass of water and held it to my lips. “Drink.”
I wanted to resist, but there was something in his voice that made me do what he said. One side effect of the spell he used on me was dry mouth and I was dying to quench my thirst. Once the water was gone, he set the glass aside and helped me into a more comfortable position. Damian pulled a chair over so he could sit directly facing me. I looked away.
“So it’s you that’s been giving us so much trouble,” he remarked lightly. “I never would have thought such a gentle soul would take up arms against us.”
“And I see you’ve gone into hiding because of it. I’m doing my job well.
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