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Executive Member
Join Date: 14 Oct 2001
Location: I'm a GIRL!!!(in Alaska)
Posts: 589
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A story, but not fanfiction (shonen ai vampires)
Um I dunno if I'm allowed to post this here but if I am, your critique would mean a lot to me! I am new at writing you see?So any tips would be usefull XD this is obviously not done yet, it's part of the first chapter though. For some reason the text got all weirdly spaced when I pasted it...Oh and I know the dream sequence is crap, I will rewrite it soon. Pus I'll be making he whole thing more descriptive
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Chapter One
Morgan
He dreamed of water. Dark and powerful, pulling him into it's murky depths. He gasped for breath but was met with only the poisonous burning of the evil liquid that lingered even after his lungs had been violently emptied of it. Terrified, he tried to struggle free but could not tell which way led to the surface and life-saving air. The harder he pulled,
the more the black strands of nothingness clung to his body, dragging him to certain death.
Suddenly the formerly shapeless strands formed into the feathers of a raven. The silky black strands seemed to take on a feeling of warmth and comfort rather than malice and he no longer had the need to breathe.
Yet still, he was being pulled away from what little light had begun to
form in this desolate womb: a faint cold light emanated from a single rose. Its petals glowed dimly and were the color of old blood. He reached out to touch the beautiful flower but was pulled away by a dark figure just in time to see several nasty looking blades shoot out of the stem to the spot his hand had occupied a moment before.
He whirled around to look at his savior a man as pale as death with hair as black as the feathers that fluttered around him to wrap Morgan in a protective blanket.
“Avoid the deadly seduction of the rose” was all the man said , his eyes covered by shadow. The man and the rose slowly faded into the dark, leaving only blackness.
“Wait!” cried Morgan. “Who are you?!” silence was his reply, the man had already gone.
He was startled awake by the bellowing of the red faced hunters, their antics took his mind off of his own worries if even for a brief moment. It's didn't take much to get this group drunk, they would use any excuse to celebrate.
Morgan wanted no part in their self induced retardation. How can they stand the idiocy? He thought. He had always been opposed to alcohol...but that may have been because his
real father was an abusive drunk. Besides, why would anyone want to dull their senses, especially in this foreboding place.
The young hunter knew he was the only one to pick up on the strange aura surrounding the dark woods. It was as if some kind of spirit was watching the hunting party, and it didn't seem friendly. Morgan barely dodged as a pillow came whizzing toward his head. He mock-glared in the direction of Randall but couldn't help but laugh at the bald man's silent apology. Since Randall had discovered him as a boy after his father had abandoned him in the forest, Morgan had considered the old man to be his father and they were quite close.
"You should go back to sleep" Randall grinned. "No use listening to the ramblings of old men. Especially slobbering drunks such as us!". Morgan knew that although Randall included himself as a "drunk" in his statement, he hadn't had so much as a drop of wine in thirteen years.
"So I guess that makes you sentry then?". The youth stared up at the night sky, watching stars dance along the vast ocean of space. "Hnn.." was all the older man said as he wandered off to stand guard.Left alone, the youth slipped into his sleeping roll and fought off the dark
feelings that had been choking him since they left the village. He tried to make sense of the strange dream was it a premonition of something? or a Vision?. He had to know.
Barely aware of what he was doing, Morgan untied his horse and started off into the woods alone. The men gave no resistance, thinking that he was off to relieve himself and too intoxicated by drink to care either way.He had to find the cause of this vision, he knew it must be more than
a dream and that the answer lay somewhere out in the night. Trying to quiet his steed, he carefully led it away from camp and mounted. He didn’t get far before he heard calls from behind him.
"Morgan! Where have you gotten yerself off to boy?" Randall's booming but merry voice called out over the silence of the forest. It was unnaturally quiet, not a living thing made a sound. Morgan rode on, deaf to the calls of his adopted father. He knew he was heading closer to
the source of this eerie calm but felt strangely drawn towards it, maybe it held the answers he now felt were somehow vastly important.The path he had strayed onto hadn't been used in decades but it was obvious by the heavy wear on the decrepit cobblestones that people
once lived here. The sparse rain fell heavily on the leaves of the trees, the sound was barely audible and deafening at the same time. His musing was cut short when his horse suddenly reared in terror; spilling him to the ground. Morgan only had enough time to cast a shocked glance over his shoulder as his mount disappeared the way they came. Thus the young man was left in silence as mist began to creep up, heralding the oncoming night.
"Damnit!" he cried, cursing himself for his stupidity, now he was lost and alone; all because of some ridiculous ‘feeling’. He slowly got up and surveyed his surroundings. There seemed to be
nothing but skeletons of trees choked by fog in every direction. If he turned back, Randall and the others might have a chance of finding him but he felt compelled to continue forward...Whatever it was that lay beyond the mist was close now, he could feel it.
Pressing on, his feet moved of their own accord: faster, faster, finally breaking into a run. The fiery haired youth was sprinting blind, enveloped by mist. Branches and thorns reached out to him trying to hold him back but he broke free each time plunging deeper into
the night's embrace. His lungs ached and sent jolts of fire throughout his whole body, he could go no further. Morgan took one last leaping stride and collapsed, right onto the edge of a moonlit clearing.
In the center of the circular expanse stood an ancient cathedral surrounded by flowers and...tombstones. Strange, it was not often that a structure of such beauty and apparent wealth be abandoned like this, yet it had been many years since any human had so much as set
eyes on this holy place. The walls were slowly crumbling and the stained glass windows depicting various saints were clouded and dark.Morgan took a few tentative steps forward glancing around nervously for some unseen enemy, but there was no one. He approached the giant double doors expecting to meet resistance but the massive wooden slabs swung outward easily. Shuffling inside, he was surprised that no dust was disturbed by his passage. In fact, the whole interior looked well kept.It looked as if someone had been cleaning this place regularly.
So absorbed in his speculations, Morgan didn’t notice the black shadow looming over him. He almost leaped out of his skin when the taller man spoke.
“How did you find this place?!” the pale figure said angrily. “My barrier has been breached” Morgan heard the man mutter to himself, insanely long raven hair caught up in the breeze coming in from the open door.
“I-I” stuttered Morgan, scared out of his wits. “I’m sorry! This is your home? I’ll leave right away! You see I didn’t think anyone lived here and-” he stopped himself. Babbling would do no good. “What are you going to do to me?” he blurted, the man had a sinister look to him.
“You think I’d harm you?” the other questioned, trying to hide the hurt of the accusation. “I want you to leave this place and never return. Tell no one you saw me, tell no one of this place. Do you understand?”Morgan nodded vigorously trying to avoid the taller man’s icy stare.
“On second thought-” the raven haired man continued “-I cannot have you memorizing the way back here” he said stepping closer. Morgan tried to run but the other was too fast and grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to the floor.
I’m going to be killed for sure thought Morgan desperately. Why did I wander off?
“Hold still” the other said firmly, and Morgan felt a hand over his already closed eyes. A soft light shone around his body and as he drifted into unconsciousness, he couldn’t help but think what a pleasant way to die...
Reimas
The pale man stood in the doorway of the chapel, the weight of what had just happened
began to sink in. The boy, how could he have sensed my presence? he thought to himself,
stunned. The spectral wall he had set up fifty years ago should have protected the chapel from
all outside influences and shielded him from sight. “You should not have been able to find
your way here” he said to the unconscious youth on the floor.
The boy stirred restlessly, pawing at the dried and cracked floorboards with a weak moan.
He’s one of the hunters from Belai Village Reimas thought mildly I have to take him back,
they’ll be looking for him in this area. Years ago he would have simply taken this
opportunity and fed on the boy but now, it was unimaginable. Even though he had become
weak, a shadow of his former self, he would not take another human life!
Gently he picked up the youth, brushing a curly strand away from his face. The young
man was beautiful, so innocent and full of life, Reimas couldn’t remember ever being so pure.
He moved outside with the grace of a cat, never disturbing a single flower or blade of grass.
The youth, still asleep, clung to the front of Remas’ studded crimson tunic as if there were no
tomorrow.
He hurried on towards the forest path that only he was supposed to be able to see. The
night was still young but he didn’t dare waste time, morning could creep up on you if you
weren’t careful and if that happened...well he didn’t want to think about it. The trees had a
pale glow to them tonight and shimmered with blues and greens as he brushed by them
on his way to Belai.
What was the boy seeking when he found my sanctuary? Reimas thought with wonder.
Surely the youth hadn’t stumbled on his “lair” by pure accident, it was miles away from
anything of importance...miles which he now had to cross before dawn.
The hours passed swiftly as he pushed on, feeling a growing sense of protectiveness for the young man in his arms. He wished he could shield the red-haired youth in his arms from all the evils that the world would surely throw his way; man was a cruel race, almost as cruel as his own.
It seemed like only moments ago he had left the cathedral but now, standing on the
outskirts of town, Reimas felt reluctant to give up his charge. “What the hell am I thinking?” the pale beauty cursed himself. “I’ll just take him to the nearest villager and leave”, it was simple, he must forget about this man who had weaseled into his life, he had to go back to paying his penance. That was how it should be for the rest of eternity. Reimas moved cautiously toward a random villager, his knee high leather boots barely
stirring up a puff of dust as he approached the rather overweight man dismounting on the side of the shabby road.
“Excuse me” he ventured “but do you know-” The man spun around quickly regarding
Reimas, his normally jolly features were creased with worry until he spotted the young man Reimas was clinging to protectively.
“Morgan!” the man cried with joy. “Good sir, where did you find my boy?” Reimas stared blankly at the other man for a second before he gave his reply.
“He was trespassing on my property, when he saw me he must have fainted” Reimas lied nervously. The other man seemed to buy his concocted story and only stood there grinning.
“Here” Reimas said, trying to hand the boy over. The pale man felt an ounce of panic creep in as the youth wouldn’t let go of him. The other man pried the boy’s fingers from Reimas’ now wrinkled tunic and took him, waking the youth in the process.
“Morgan, don’t be stubborn now, leave this nice man alone, he probably has his own
business to attend to!”
“No!!” the young man cried, wrapping his arms around Reimas’ waist “you don’t
understand! He’s the man of my dreams!”. Having said his piece, the youth once again fell under the effects of the sleeping spell Reimas had cast earlier and slid to the dirt.
“What the-?” Reimas said shocked at the boy’s words what’s THAT supposed to mean?
The other man promptly picked up the boy in one arm and pulled an expensive looking silver cross from around his own neck. “It’s not much” he said “but I want you to have this, as thanks for saving my son” with that he reached for Reimas’ hand and placed the cross within.
Reimas pulled back immediately dropping the offending article to the ground. With a cry
he looked at his palm, now burned badly with the shape of a crucifix. His body began to glow a pale red in response, trying to protect him from whatever had caused this sudden pain. However in his weakened state, all it accomplished was making it glaringly obvious what he was.The other man looked shocked and afraid for a moment before another passerby on his way to a tavern for a late night round of drink spotted the spectacle and shouted an alert.“VAMPIRE!” the man screamed, going into a panic and waking those in nearby houses to come and help subdue the “monster”.
“You are...” the boy’s father said softly, stepping back slightly.
“It’s true” replied Reimas with sadness in his eyes.
“-but you saved him, why?” said the other man gazing down at his sleeping son.
Reimas didn’t know what to say, he could only watch the man’s retreating form as pain tore through his chest. An arrow from one of the villagers had punctured a lung, spraying his unnaturally dark blood onto the dust of the street. He crashed face down onto the packed earth, driving the wooden shaft even farther into his body. Digging his fingernails into the ground until they cracked and bled, he tried to drag himself up but was knocked down again by the next attack.
Three more feathered lances of pain impaled his body at the shoulder, back and side. This
time he simply lay there in the growing crimson pool that now surrounded him. Careless he thought to himself before pain took over and clouded out all other senses.
The frightened townsfolk were now gathering around but not too closely lest Reimas leap up and relieve them of their blood. Some of them even stood in the “safety” of their doorways, ready to leap inside those ramshackle piles of bricks and thatching if anything went amiss. Those closest to the incapacitated vampire held out torches as if to keep him at bay.
Suddenly, one broke off from the crowd; a burly blacksmith covered with hair and grease. He stalked confidently over to where the pale man, somehow even more beautiful covered in his own blood lay silently. “Look here!” he cried in a deep voice, savagely taking a fistful of Reimas’ long hair and yanking him up. “People of Belai, we have conquered the beast! This satanic spawn shall never terrorize this village again!” he shouted. The people cheered as one might when attending a wedding or festival when the blacksmith took hold of one of the arrows in Reimas’ body and twisted hard. Reimas groaned loudly in pain, exposing his sharp elongated fangs and reassuring latecomers that this was indeed no ordinary man mistakenly fired apon.
The blacksmith motioned for some other men to come over and help him as he tied the
wounded man’s wrists together, stripped him to the waist and dragged him toward the town square. The crowd parted momentarily then filed in behind so as not to miss what would surely be the monster’s slow and painful death.
The fifteen minutes it took for the procession to wind it’s way to the town square seemed like a decade for the one being dragged. His chest was raw and bleeding, and the shaft of the arrow through his lung had broken off and become lodged somewhere deep inside his body. So quickly this had all happened...all because of that boy. He couldn’t hold a grudge though, in fact he longed to see that innocent face one more time.
Ailis
She stood in the shadows, watching the spectacle as a predator watches it’s prey, absently
twirling her fingers in the silk ruffles that adorned the outside of her elegant beaded corset. “So many people, all out to kill an innocent man” she commented with amusement. “What do you think of that?” she questioned her latest victim sweetly. The young blonde man, her newest toy, could only make weak coughing sounds as he was choked by his own blood. Oh she could have let him live after draining most of his blood, he wouldn’t have been able to point her out in a crowd, but where was the fun in that? Instead she had slit his throat in a way that he would die slowly.
She kicked at some dirt that had gotten piled against the side of a more expensive brick house. It didn't impress her. Ailis had graced the palaces of the wealthiest kings. She had dined at the most lavish tables. Even now, her most inexpensive clothing was enough to make the richest woman in this poor little village faint with jealousy. The council had thought her strange to
give up such decadence in favor of this struggling, backwater place.
They didn't know that her prize was so close. So close, and soon would be taken away from her forever. "Don't worry," she told the corpse. "I won't let them kill him."
She uttered a few words under her breath. Ancient words, evil words. And the world stopped in it's place. Every living thing was as a statue. All but her...then again, she wasn't exactly living. She was lightning, a streak of purple and black. Tendrils of lace and silk flowed around her as she approached the huge steak errected in the town square.
She saw the object of her obsession immediately. He was the only thing that was real. All others were mere spectres, useless afterimages. He was tied roughly to the giant slab of wood, his head hung down in shame. His gorgeous hair hung in curtains around his battered body. Ailis licked her lips, savoring the image of the man drenched in his own blood. He was naked to the waist and even dying, he tried to cover himself with his hair.
"You look like you could use a hand," she said smuggly. He didn't seem surprised to see her. She sauntered closer, catching up handfulls of his luxurious hair and rinning her slender fingers through it."How about I get you out of here love?" She breathed in his ear.
"G..go away..." he sputtered weakly. "Let me die." Blood dripped from his full lips as he formed the words. She knew his refusal of her aid had nothing to do with any death wish. Reimas had wanted his death long and drawn out, and as painfull as possible. Compared to starving himself of human blood as he had been doing the past fifty years, this method was "humane".
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Cutting off mid-thought...um ok I'm weird
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I'll kick your arse so hard you'll kiss the moons!
Such behavior is very unbecoming of a summoner
Last edited by Nefla; 27-04-2003 at 03:22 AM.
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I'm new at this so your input is extremely helpful to me XD (I saved your post to my computer for future reference) h and about the yaoi thing, I didn't intend to post the graphic parts *sweatdrop* 
