okay there's werewolves in this one I promise!! But you guys are AMAZING at giving feedback, so I would love it if you coul really look at this one. I do plan to get it published.
I knew I should cry as I looked down into the casket, but all I saw was a corpse, a lifeless shell of what was. I stared coldly at the body of what used to be my mother; nothing, no feeling. Questions raced through my mind like ravenous wolves, who did this? Why didn’t my mother’s death stir anything inside me? I hated myself in the absence of love.
My mother had always been kind and generous. She was a mother that nurtured me, and loved me. She had been kind; giving warm, fresh cookies out every day; blankets and hot chocolate after playing outside in the snow, but these memories were bleak in my mind. They seemed distant and unreal, like dancers in a dream.
This wasn't the first death in my family, my father had been killed three years earlier, and my grandparents before that. I had no one now, I was alone. As it seemed, I always had been. Even as I had laughed and played as a child, I couldn’t remember happiness, or innocence. It was all an illusion, and now at the still young age of nineteen, I was ice. Nothing could warm nor comfort me.
They closed the casket and lowered my mother into the grave. I stared into darkness until they began to fill it with soil. I thought back to when I had found my mother lying in the living room. The gory site with blood spattered on the floor and walls. I didn’t think about mourning, I had only numbly dialed the emergency number as I stared at my mother’s face; and it stared back frozen in a silent scream. The image stung my mind like a fresh stab wound, and like most wounds the image would scar.
It was homicide, no questions. I knew I should want revenge. I knew I should want to avenge the death of my family. I did, but for the wrong reasons. I wanted to kill, as the prayers were said, a blood lust erupted in me. My eyes were alive with a fire that had long been concealed. Now I was ready, now they would come for me.
My mind wandered as I left the funeral. Suddenly a man’s voice was heard behind me,
“Hey,” he said. He was tall, and looked no older than twenty-five. He had entrancing blue eyes concealed beneath hair as black as raven feathers. The long hair fell in his face, and was cut so as to look messy and choppy. He wore a dark trench coat, gloves, and a wide brimmed hat. His face was shaded from the sun as he continued. “My friends and I are going out later. We would like you to accompany us.”
I stared ahead and stopped walking, never once turning to look at the stranger behind me.
“No Thanks.” I said. I didn’t want distractions. I was alone now, and needed to focus on taking care of my apartment and finances.
The man approached me and slid a paper into my hand from behind.
“I thought you might say that. Well, if you change your mind, here’s the address of where we’ll be.” He turned to walk away, “By the way, the name’s Xavien. Remember it.”
It was then I turned, but the man was nowhere to be found. I frowned and got into my car. As I sat there, I stared at the paper in my hand and thought about tearing it. Thinking better of it, I shoved it in my pocket and drove home.
My apartment lay on the third floor, and I had always preferred taking the stairs, over the elevator. The fire escape was always nice too, I always seemed to find myself wanting to sit out beneath the full moon on clear nights.
I entered my room and locked the door behind me. My hand felt the paper and tugged it from its place inside my jacket. My eyes read its words once more,
Club 46, be there.
I knew the club, a dingy night club full of Goths; my favorite place in the world. The way the music pulsed through me, doing away with all my cares, what could be better when I felt so empty?
I put on another layer of dark-red lipstick and black eye shadow, and gazed at myself in the mirror. My current apparel was fine for a nightclub, and had been inappropriate at the funeral, but I didn’t care. My too short, school-girl like, skirt gave way to fish net covered legs, met with knee-high boots. Above, I wore a strategically torn shirt, with a sleeve that purposely hung off the shoulder. My long dark hair was highlighted in red and blue, and flowed elegantly over my shoulders.
I scowled at my reflection.
“How can I be thinking of going out? How can I look in the mirror out of vanity and not want to mourn the loss of my own mother?” I asked myself aloud, in my dramatic, poetic almost sarcastic way then, after a moment, “What the hell.”
When 8:35 came around I made my way out to the car and drove to the club. There, I stared from my car at the building. The door was open and the music could be heard pouring out into the street, the lights flashed within. I frowned and turned back to the steering wheel. For a moment, I wanted to leave, go home and think about my mom; however I only let out a sigh of frustration before stepping out of the car and strolling into the club; inside, the bass of the music vibrated through my very being, stimulating me; the heat of the crowd, the dancing, the sweat. It was all so nostalgic.
“Glad you made it,” came that same voice from behind.
“Yeah, I’m here. What do you want?” I blurted, startled into an attitude.
“Let’s go somewhere quieter.” He said as he took my arm and led me through the crowd to the back of the club. There was a door guarded by a large, burly man, who immediately stepped aside at a gesture from Xavien. Behind the door was a stairway leading yet another door. I followed him to the top, where a single room overlooked the dancing mob below.
Once inside the room, he closed the door behind me. I looked around to see a mini-bar and a tattered love seat. The room was dark, apart from the black light shining above.
“Why did you want me here?” I asked. Xavien approached me, and brushed the hair from my face. He looked as if he was going to answer me, but then turned and walked to the mini-bar. He poured two drinks, and held one out to me.
“Here, you’ve had quite a day.”
I stepped toward him and took the drink.
“What is it?”
“Only a little vodka.” He said as he swallowed his. I never had alcohol before, especially something as strong as vodka, but I didn’t want to look like a coward and downed my glass. I made a face and gave the cup back to him.
He smiled, and took the glass to set it on the bar. He then placed a hand on my back, turning me and leading me to the love seat. Somehow the drink affected me fast, and I almost fell onto the little sofa. Xavien sat next to me, and leaned in close. This time, he wasn’t wearing a hat and his hair fell into his face, his blue eyes nearly glowing. His cool breath caressed my skin. His hand slid up my shoulder, and then tried to slide my jacket off.
“Hey!” I said, suddenly snapping into a state of sobriety. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I flung his hand from my shoulder and pushed him away.
“Hmm…” he mused, straitening his naturally messy hair. “I thought you’d be easy.”
“Well you thought wrong!” I snapped loudly, “I’m leaving!” I quickly stormed to the door.
“I know who killed your mother.” he said with a calm voice.
I stopped short, and turned to him.
“How? I don’t even know you.” I said, still aggravated.
“Yes, but I know you.”
I frowned at him,
“So what are you, some kind of stalker?” I asked, still not amused,
“In a way, I am. I’ve been watching you and your family ever since the first murder. If you want to know who did this, you’ll step away from that door.”
I let out a heavy sigh and folded my arms, then walked back over to stand before him.
“Okay, tell me.”
He looked at my very seriously and said,
I was taken aback.
“What? Werewolves? You're trying to tell me werewolves killed my family? You’re crazy, I’m outta here.”
Xavien stopped me,
“I’m serious.” he said, “They’ll come for you next.”
My eyes burned with the same fire that had filled me at the funeral.
“Why? Too kill me like the rest of my family? I’m not swallowing any of this crap. Everyone knows werewolves don’t exist, and if they did why would they want to kill my family?”
“We don’t know yet,” he said “but I have been assigned to keep you alive until we do.”
“We?” I asked, “What? Do I have an entire stalker organization watching me? Who are you?”
“Look, you’ll have to come with me. It’s not safe at your apartment.”
“I don’t know you, nor do I trust you, and you want me to go with you? How do I know you aren’t the killer?”
Xavien grabbed my arms forcefully,
“You’ll just have to believe me,” he hissed, “you’re next.”
“Why?” I tore from his grasp, “Why kill me?”
“Not kill you,” he said, “change you.”
I laughed dryly.
“To make me a werewolf too?” I laughed again.
“It’s no joke Tess.” He said, looking me straight in the eye.
My laugh subsided,
“You know my name?”
Xavien rolled his eyes.
“I said I know you. Now are you going to come with me? Or do I have to take you?”
“Take me if you can, because I’m not going anywhere with you.” I promptly walked back to the door and turned the knob. Yet before I had completed the action, he turned me around and pinned me to the door; one hand over mine on the knob, the other pressing my free hand against the door.
“What the-?” I said as I struggled to free myself. When he opened his mouth to speak, my knee went straight into his groin. He released his grip, giving me the opportunity I needed, and I flung the door open and raced down the stairs. I struggled with the door at the bottom, and glanced up to see Xavien staggering to his feet again. Finally the door came open and I dashed into the crowd. Xavien followed, clumsily after, but I was already out the door. Suddenly I hit something and fell, full force onto the ground. Pain wrenched trough my body as I hit the concrete.
“Hey, are you alright?” came a man’s voice. I blinked a few times and realized I had ran into a rather muscular man, about six feet tall. He helped me up.
“I’m fine,” I breathed, looking back into the club. Xavien was nowhere to be seen.
“No you’re not,” said the man.
I looked at him suddenly, frowning,
“I said I’m fine, now can you let go of me?” my question was a warning.
“Of course,” he let go and I walked briskly to my car. He followed. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’d like to see if you get home safely.”
“No thanks,” I got in the driver’s seat,
“Well could I get your address so I can check on you later?”
“Look, that’s nice of you,” my voice dripped with sarcasm, and I squinted in my eyes in an obviously fake smile, “but I’m just going to leave now.” With that I shut the door, and barely gave the man time to move before pulling out onto the road.
I kept an eye on my rear-view mirror to make sure no one was following me, but took the long way home just in case.
When I finally entered my apartment, and sank down with a sigh of relief into my over-stuffed, couch, there was a knock at the door.
“Now what?” I said annoyed and getting up. Upon opening the door my eyes widened, “What are you doing here?”
“I followed you,” said the man from the club, “I just had to make sure you were okay.”
I tried to repress a sudden rage building inside me.
“I’m fine,” I said through clenched teeth, “really, now go away.”
“I understand. I’ll go now, but may I use your rest-room first?” he said, looking past me into my room.
“There are rest-rooms in the lobby.” I said.
“Yes but,” he shoved past me into the room toward the open door of the bath room, “you understand,” and with a snide smile disappeared behind the door.
I frowned, but none the less proceeded to sink down into the comfort of my sofa, I closed my eyes for a moment and opened them when the sound of the bathroom door opening. I watched the man with disdain, then confused suspicion as he did not leave, but proceeded to take a seat beside me on the couch.
“Excuse me, aren’t you leaving?” I said angrily.
“Hey, chill.” said the man,
“Who are you anyway?” I stopped myself and without letting him answer, “You know what? I don’t care, get out.”
He smiled and put an arm around me,
“I said get out!” I shouted, throwing his arm out and standing up, “What the hell’s your problem? Get out!” my voice raised in volume as I became angrier.
Despite this, the man stood and stepped toward me, his eyes glinting with a supernatural sheen. “What are you?” I asked, now slightly afraid of this intruder. He took another step and I bolted to my room. Once inside I shut and locked the door behind me, leaning against it to hold it shut. Now I regretted not slamming the door in his face when he had first arrived.
The man turned the knob, and upon finding it locked said,
“Hey, I was kidding. Can’t you take a joke?”
“I don’t care, get out!” I called through the door. There was a moment of silence. I began to think maybe he had done as I asked, when suddenly the man burst through the door with inhuman strength.
I shrieked in surprise as both me, and my door were thrown across the room onto my bed. I pushed the door off of me and scrambled to face the entrance. The man stepped toward me and stopped, his gaze flying in surprise to his abdomen wheree he realized he had just been shot. He smiled, and took another step, but then his face racked with pain; he tore off his shirt to see the wound had turned dark purple, and the veins surrounding the wound were swelling and the black color surged through them, spreading throughout his body. The man let out an angry growl and opened his mouth to reveal several, glistening, dagger-like teeth.
Now he lunged at me, and at the same moment, was shot two more times, before collapsing onto the floor and going into a series of convulsions. His face warped and his eyes changed. I only watched in horror, before the creature lay still. I looked up at what used to be my door.
Standing there, holding a silenced gun was Xavien. He slipped the weapon inside his trench coat, and knelt beside the body.
“I knew it, “he said, examining its twisted face, “one of them.”
I blinked in disbelief,
“You just killed someone!” I said, “How’d you get here? Who’s that? What do you mean ‘one of them’?”
“I told you it wasn’t safe here,” he searched through the creature’s pockets, “but you wouldn’t listen,” he stood, “and this,” he said kicking the body, “is one of the werewolf party members, probably hired to bring you back to his boss. I couldn’t find any identification. He must have been newly turned. Now do you believe me?”
I stared at the body,
“I don’t…”I started, but Xavien cut me off,
“We can’t stay here,” he said, “especially with this guy.”
“I could call the cops,” I said.
“And tell them what?” Xavien began, annoyed, “that some guy killed a werewolf to save your skin?”
“I guess I’ll have to…”
Xavien cut me off again with a smile,
“Good, come with me.” He held out his hand to me, I reluctantly took it and crawled off the bed.
Outside my apartment, Xavien stopped, “Lock your door.” He said. When I opened my mouth to ask, he put a finger on my lips, “just do it.” He brushed a lock of hair from his face as he looked around to make sure we were not being observed by unwanted eyes. I locked the door and turned to him, yet before I could speak he took my arm and swiftly led me out of the building.
The moon shone brightly in the twilight sky, for a moment I began to appreciate this man. His eyes shone like the moon itself, and his skin was just as pale, his dark hair fell about his features so perfectly.
“Come on,” he said, breaking my thoughts, and my stare. He took off down the street, upon noticing I hadn’t moved, came back to take my arm, “we have to hurry.”
“But…” I started, yet just as before, he pulled me away without letting me finish. “We could take my car.” I said as he dragged me down the street.
“No.” he said. I would have inquired further, yet the tone in his voice warned me not to. As a result, we walked in silence for several paces.
“Where are we going?” I finally asked.
“Not much farther.” He answered, without answering. At the end of the street, we turned down an alley. At the end of the alley, Xavien knocked three times upon a door that looked as if it were a forgotten warehouse entrance. Suddenly the door opened and Xavien entered with me clinging to his arm.
Inside a strobe light flashed, and heavy metal music could be heard. The music was so loud; I wondered how it had been silent outside the door, and deafening inside. There before us was a rather large mob of people. Some danced to the music as if high on some drug, while others could be seen making out on the lounges in the corner. The rest of the people seemed to stare at me alone as I passed. I clung tighter to Xavien’s arm.
He led me up some stairs to a bridge that stretched over the dance floor, and to the door at the end of the bridge. Xavien unlocked the door, and we entered. I let out the breath I had been holding.
“What’s with all those people?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” said Xavien.
“They were all staring at me, it was kind of creepy.”
“Well,” Xavien began, “they aren’t used to seeing humans in here.”
I frowned, “What does that mean?”
Xavien sighed and shook his head,
“Look, I’ll explain everything later. Now, you should get some sleep.”
“Sleep?” I half exclaimed, “How can I possibly sleep? First you try to molest me, and then some other creep follows me home and tries to kill me. Then you murder him in my room, bring me here, and expect me to sleep?”
“Yes.” Xavien said as he slipped off his coat. Underneath was a tight black shirt that hugged his every muscle. It was sleeveless and the biceps of his arms flexed as he hung the garment. The tight leather of his pants glistened slightly as he plopped down on a couch. He laid his head back and stretched his arms, before folding them behind his head. “My bed’s in there.” He said, gesturing with his head.
I looked and found the door he spoke of and looked back at him. He watched me, with those moonlight-blue eyes, and I found myself entering his room without protest. I paused at the door and looked back at him,
“Goodnight.” I said, though I meant to say thank you.
Night.” He replied, as if knowing what I meant.
I shut the door behind me and looked around. There were newspaper clippings covering the walls, and the window had been covered to block out all possible light. I turned to the bed. The sheets were a deep shade of red,
I wonder how they get that color,I thought, as I climbed under the blankets, and fell into slumber.
As I slept, I was plagued by a dream that had followed me as long as I could remember. I felt powerful, the blood thirst within me screamed out in a mighty cry, which echoed through the soul. I ran recklessly down the streets of the city, tearing apart victims as I ran. The world began spinning wildly, blood swirled around me. My own maniacal laughter filled my thoughts as blood filled my mouth and poured out over my chest. I smeared it over my face, reveling in it. The city began to disappear as the world spun faster and faster, and I plummeted into oblivion.
My eyes snapped open, my breath heavy. I touched my face to discover blood. Looking around I saw that I was covered in it. I hoped I was still dreaming, but within moments knew that I wasn’t. Looking around I saw that I was no longer in Xavien’s room; but was now in a rather expensive-looking mansion, upon a blue, Victorian-style sofa.
“Ah good, you’re awake,” came a deep, seductive voice. I turned and my eyes widened. There, in an arched doorway stood a man, who also looked about the age of twenty-five, with long white hair and deep green eyes. His skin was flawless, despite the pale complexion. He was dressed in expensive taste, but never the less looked like a god to me, and I found my thighs tensing with the very sight of him.
“Um, uh, yeah, I um…” I stuttered, as my heart skipped a beat. He smiled; I melted.
“Shh,” he said, suddenly by my side. “I’ve brought you a drink, here.” I looked down and noticed a wine glass in his hand. I took it reluctantly, the red liquid seemed strange. But I quickly forgot the contents of the glass, as I became lost in his deep emerald eyes.
“H-how did I? Who are-Where am…” I stuttered. His lips curved into a seductive grin.
“Drink.” He said, “It will make you feel better.”
I allowed my gaze to fall upon the ruby liquid,
“What is it?” I asked.
“Drink.” he repeated, lifting his own glass to his lips. I willed to question further, but those beautiful eyes of his captured my thoughts. I couldn’t resist bringing the glass to my lips, the red liquid slid into my mouth. My mind was spinning when suddenly his gaze released me. The drink was odd, but somehow familiar.
“This is…” I paused with the eerie realization, “blood.” Somehow, I couldn’t resist another sip, and before I knew it I had gulped down the entire glass. The man looked at me thoughtfully.
“You should take a shower.” He said, with certain darkness in his voice that made me wonder if standing was even possible in his presence. He took the wine glass from my hand and placed it on a table.
Looking down, I noticed my arms were so covered with blood; it looked like I was wearing red gloves. Regardless, I wasn’t about to take a shower in this stranger’s house, no matter how incredibly, unbelievably, attractive he was. Yet before I could protest, he spoke,
“Please,” with a gesture to a dark hallway. My gaze drifted over the mauve walls, and the green carpet, and back to him. He held out his hand, and without even thinking I took it. His skin was soft, so soft, and his hands were cold, but I couldn’t bring myself to let go. He helped me off the couch, my eyes never shifting from his gaze. Without even telling them to, my legs moved with him as he led me down the dark hall. Despite my attempts, I could not tear my gaze from his.
Once in the hall, we stopped in front of an elaborate door. He opened it, with his eyes still on mine. He then took my other hand and led me into the bathroom.
The walls were made of mirrors, and the grand size tub was accented with bits of gold. The floor was marble and, on one end of the room was a fogged pane of glass. He slid the glass aside to reveal the shower. Finally, his gaze released me once again, and I looked into the shower, then back to him.
My mouth opened in protest, and I attempted to pull away from the breathtakingly handsome man. With his hair trailing over his broad shoulders, for a moment I found myself wondering what lay beneath those elegant clothes of his. As if he had heard my thoughts he pulled me close. His cool breath pouring over my face, and I looked up into his eyes.
He reached over and turned the golden knobs, and lukewarm water hissed from the showerhead. He lowered his head to my hand and gently kissed it, and with a breath, left me alone in the room.
After a moment I decided a shower wouldn’t be that bad, as I regarded my bloody, torn cloths, and blood covered skin and hair. I took off my clothes and let the ragged mess drop to the floor. I stepped into the shower and closed the glass door, all the while pondering the white-haired man. Who was he? How did I get here? Where did all this blood come from? What was going on? Suddenly my gaze shot over to a presence in the bathroom.
Through the fogged glass I could see the figure of the entrancing man, but I couldn’t tell what he was doing. Within moments he disappeared again. I peeked out the from behind the glass,
“I knew it.” I said, noticing my clothes were gone. I moved back to the pouring water. The blood ran off my skin easily, leaving the floor of the shower a sea of crimson.
Stepping out of the shower I felt lighter, not to mention cleaner. I looked around the bathroom for a towel and noticed one hanging on the back of the door. Leaving wet footprints behind me I made my way to the door and, to my horror, as I reached for the towel the door opened.
The white-haired man stepped in and regarded me with an easy smile,
“I’ve brought you some clothes, not that you need them.” He said, still smiling casually, and placed them on the counter. By now, I hugged the towel tightly around me, red-faced, and burning with embarrassment. The man casually made his exit, leaving me alone again. Doesn’t anyone around here understand privacy? I thought.
After dressing into the much too elegant dress left by the mysterious man, I exited the bathroom and took the same path back out to the room I had awoken in, and there on the same couch was none other then Xavien.
“Well at least you found her, who knows what would have happened if it had been one of them.” He said.
I kept myself hidden in the hall hoping to learn something of my situation.
“Yes, but she left quite a mess,” replied the white-haired man. “It took quite some skill cleaning up. A blood-bath like that is not easily passed off as a gang attack.”
“Do you know where she was headed?”
“She made a path toward the outskirts of town. The only thing out there is the old mill.”
“That place has been abandoned for generations,” said Xavien.
“Yes, but I have people looking into its history. If we can find out what happened there, then perhaps we can find out why she was headed there.” said the man, leaning against a table.
“Why didn’t you just follow her?”
“It could have been a trap, for all we know the lykens could have been waiting for her. Not to mention she has no recollection of last night’s events,” there was a pause, “Do you Miss Tessa?” the man’s voice suddenly came from behind me. I turned to face him, and fell back from him in surprise,
“H-how did you?” I started. Yet the man only smiled and helped me up.
“I expect you’ve already met Xavien.” He said with a certain look in his eye. I knew he was remembering his eyeful from the bathroom, and not really focused on the current conversation. “Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier, my name is Malachi.”
Yeah you say that now, pervert. I thought.
“He’s got you dressed up like a porcelain doll,”
I glared at him and Malachi spoke next.
“Well Miss Tessa, I suppose we should explain a bit now that you’ve overheard this much.”
“That would be nice.” I said, walking with him into the room and sitting in a chair to myself rather than joining either on the small parallel sofas.
"Well to put things simply," begain Malachi with a seductive grin that tortured my sences,
"We're vampires," finished Xavien.
Because I better get some sleep for work tomorrow, I'll read the story after work and share my thoughts. I just wanted to inform you that I'll be reading it. Just in case.