100 Stories, 100 Days' Journal
[Most Recent Entries]
[Calendar View]
[Friends]
Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
100 Stories, 100 Days' LiveJournal:
[ << Previous 20 ]
| Saturday, January 15th, 2005 | 3:55 pm
[ashley429]
 |
Hey
Newbie here and I'm kind of new this writing thing...I mean on the computer of course but anyway, I'm gonna be sharing my stories with all of you.
My name is Ashley and I'm 16 years and I live in fort worth crowley. I'm openly a lesbian but at the moment I do not have a girlfriend. I think that I will be writing a story about my situation so that you all can really get to know me.
Current Mood: accomplished | | Sunday, November 14th, 2004 | 12:00 am
[becoming_broken]
 |
| | Saturday, November 13th, 2004 | 11:53 pm
[becoming_broken]
|
1-15 ((Don't think it's a good title for the whatever I am writing, but for now, it will do.))
( Two Wrong Turns Make It Right. Chapter 1 )
Current Mood:  Yeah man.
Current Music: You're So Last Summer; TBS | | Friday, November 12th, 2004 | 9:28 pm
[nowhere_man__]
 |
THERE
hi... i'm mr. R... and this is a story... occasionally i write them for no apparent reason... don't know what it means... don't ask, don't care... just happens, just THERE...
THERE
A short story
Day 1:
There’s a man outside my window. Not directly outside, but still fairly close. He’s holding a sign nailed to a post, but it’s upside down. Can’t make out what it says. I’ve been wondering what is printed on it for days now. He’s always there, just standing. Must be some sort of political activist. Today it’s raining even, and still he’s there. Pretty dedicated. Yet is it just that? He’s always facing my window, staring up at my apartment window. I could be wrong, but I have the strangest feeling that the sign is for me. I won’t go out though, what if it really is for me? What could it possibly say to me that don’t I already know? It’s just a sign after all, and I make too much of this anyway.
Day 2:
I can’t be sure, but I think the man has moved closer today. And again, it’s raining, it’s rained a lot lately. Always raining. I wonder if it will let up soon. Well anyways, this guy is really bothering me. What is he protesting? There is a post office on the corner, but he’s no where near it. Besides, who would have a quarrel with as insignificant an arm of the government as the post office. This just not knowing, it’s driving me mad. And he’s always staring up at the window. At my window! Though perhaps he stares only because I stare back. As likely as this is, I know it is still unlikely. This man was surely staring before I was, surely protesting before I noticed. He might be waiting for me. But he can’t be waiting for me, just can’t be.
Day 3:
The man definitely has moved closer today. Looks to me like a whole foot in my direction, could be more. But I’m sure he’s moved, completely sure. I should go out and ask him what he wants. I should, but I won’t. You see, that would require an effort on my part, a physical exertion. And I don’t really care what’s on the sign anyways do I? Could be anything, could be everything, could be nothing, and I still wouldn’t care. Might be the meaning of life written there, upside down, right there on that sign he’s holding, perhaps the man is even god, or a messenger, a seraphim. Perhaps it’s all right outside my window. God outside my window. That’s a joke, no one believes in that old fellow anyways. He was snuffed out at the turn of the 20th century. It’s a good thing too. It’s a ridiculous notion anyway, that something created everything.
Day 4:
And he draws nearer still. He’s marched here. Now I know he hasn’t really moved at all, ever, but something gives me the distinct impression that he’s marching. His gaze never wavers. He’s like some sort of soldier for a cause I know nothing about. The way he stands, the rigid unmoving manner, not so much rigid as steadfast. I could ask him if I wanted. Ask him what the cause is, but I’m afraid of what his answer might be. I fear he is protesting me. I mean look, I’m not that great a guy, down right awful in fact. I sit up here looking down at things, just wondering, never doing anything. I write in this journal of mine, and it’s all nonsense. I’m a waste of a man and I’m not surprised if some group has organized against me. Plus he’s staring at me, he must be.
Day 5:
Why does he do this to me? I’ve never meant to be the way I am. It’s just the way that things happened. Could I control that? I’m sure I could have attempted it, but it might have been too hard, too strenuous. Is inaction such a bad thing? Perhaps I should move, ask the land lady for a new apartment, but I couldn’t do that to her. It would be too much trouble, far too much. And this is such a slight problem. So very slight. So many larger things to worry about, right? Like the rain for instance. Never stopping, never letting up. Started flooding a bit at the corner. Now that is a problem. We need more storm drains around these parts. And I have no doubt that if I did manage to move, he would find me again. Can’t escape the rain can we? Perhaps he and his organization would come in greater numbers. Can’t have that, just can’t.
Day 6:
He is soaked, his sign is wilted. Yet still he stands. Continues to march on rhythmically. Am I that great a cause? Maybe I should submit to whatever punishment they have in store for me. It must be punishment, must be. I am truly terrible to warrant a vigil such as this one. You know, I cannot see that well from here. Is that really just a sign? The rain might be deceiving me, but I think that is a rifle. A rifle with some wilted poster board nailed at the pommel. Yes, yes, I see it now, it must be. Perhaps he is a soldier after all. Or part of a firing squad. My firing squad. What could he want other then my death? Doesn’t he see I’ve died already? This uncertainty has killed me. Do I go down and ask him, or do I save him the trouble? One must be done.
Day 7:
Current Mood: happily estranged thanks
Current Music: Death Cab for Cutie - A Lack of Color | | Saturday, November 13th, 2004 | 12:23 pm
[rockoncalico]
 |
Anger is like acts poison when introduced to an open soul. It is blinding and scorches all reason in one’s mind. She lost people closest to her to energies used by poison and she has lost herself to anger.Hi, i'm new! I'd tell you all the title of my story... however that the the part the seems to elude me more than anything about the project! Perhaps you could leave sugestions for me? I'll tell you a bit about it. The story is based in a place called Ashtoreth in a fantasy/futuristic type setting mildly inspired by Final Fantasy VII. Ashtoreth is made up of what is commonly known as the Nine Worlds. These are the significant places around Ashtoreth (map to be inked soon). For centuries the land has been in peace, people are content with their lives. Recently the industrial city's factories started production and the gates have been firmly armed with advanced technology to keep unwanted visitors out. Several months of factory production, rumours began to arise talking of a secret army being trained in Neo. The soldiers were told to be biologically enhanced and were being trained with unusual weapons that were suposedly being developed within the walls of Neo. Hasha denied such events happening and a lot of citizens of Ashtoreth were happy with his word. Within the next month the force known only as the Neo Army attacked it's first town as a test for their exsperimental weapons. So far they have distoyed three and Hasha refuses to do anything but tell the people that he is 'investigating this sensitive matter'. Main CharactersLuke Aodake. Gender: Female. Age: aprox. 18. Materia: Spirit (implanted in her forehead). Occupation: Wanderer, freelancer. Weapons: Fists/Ether-saber. Special Ability: Potion making, energy manipulation, martial arts. Captain Jeremy ‘Jab’ Walker (“Jabberwocky of the Seas”). Gender: Male. Age: aprox. 17. Materia: Water (placed in his dual dagger). Occupation: Pirate. Weapons: Dual Dagger/Knives. Special Abilities: Steal, Stealth, Detect Hidden Enemies. Cross Goddard. Gender: Male. Age: aprox. 20. Materia: Air (hangs of silver ear cuff). Occupation: Bartender/Rebel sharp shooter. Weapons: Dual Pistols/Mecha-Rifle (with scope). Special Abilities: Enhanced eyesight/hearing, Charisma. Bristol Lanford. Gender: Male. Age: Aprox. 40. Occupation: Weapons smith, Rebel leader. Materia: Earth (placed in wrist cuff). Weapons: Broadsword. Special Abilities: Lue Lanford. Gender: Female. Age: aprox. 18. Occupation: Rebel (Bristol's daughter). Materia: Fire (hanging from silver neck chain). Weapons: Mace. Special Abilities: The Nine WorldsDeva is the capital city of Ashtoreth. It's the home of the lands ruler, Hasha and is the largest trade market in the world. Neo used to be the capital of the land many centuries ago. The city grew and developed technology which ultimately poluted and desroyed the city leaving it as a mass of abandoned factories and other buildings now used to house the new force building within it's walls. Istar is the second largest city in Ashtoreth. It has a small market, but is more known for it's bar's and female entertainment. It's a popular place for recreation and recouperation. (Cross Goddard resides here).Farkir is the forge town, home of weapon and armorsmiths. (Lue and Bristol reside here). At the edge of the town is the begining of Dyzan Forest, which is home to hermits, rangers and wildlife. It also hides the HQ of the Ashtoreth rebellion. Adamastor is a large fishing village, also known as the docklands to locals. It is a hot spot for pety theft in the busy markets and is a stop over for many pirates. (Captain Walker resides here).Mythriac was the first town to be hit as a test feild for The Neo Army's exsperimental weapons. It was a blacksmith town. A handful of towns people hid in the mines and survived and are slowly building the town up again with help from Deva. Eliphas was the second town to be hit by The Neo Army. There were no survivers, and the town is left as ruins. Gliph was the third town hit. It is the most traditional town in Ashtoreth and uses very little technology. It's the only town that still actively uses magic in their lives, the Aodake family being the towns head. This is where Luke Aodake is from and it is also where the story begins. ( Rough Sneak Preview of Chapter 1 (first two pages) )Anyone's citique or opinion on this would be very welcome! I want to make this worthy of perhaps publishment oneday. Please crit! I'll love you forever! | | Friday, November 12th, 2004 | 12:36 pm
[ffejrecuahc]
 |
| 5:09 pm
[lipglossbitch]
 |
Smack - An addiction to apathy
"She's going to die! She's going to die! You can't stop it!" I can hear Gazelle scream hysterically.
I can see the fear in my boyfriend's eyes, see the strain on his face. He's gripping my arm as tightly as possible, holding on to my life. I can see the look on everyone's faces and I know I'm going to die. I know this, yet I don't care. If I had the energy I might even smile at that thought.
You see, that's what heroin does to you. It makes you not care. Almost as soon as you shoot a wave of apathy just washes over you and all life's problems drift away. Nothing matter's anymore. It's like you're wrapped in a blanket of warmth and security. You're sure that everything's going to be alright.
Someone enters the room. I know this person, but I'm not sure how or where from. Are they even real? Is any of this even real? Calmly they ask what's going on. He's probably on smack too.
I have a blood clot. My boyfriend's trying to stop it, trying to stop it travelling to my heart. It's useless though, everyone knows it. No matter how hard he tries it just keeps moving up. I'm going to die.
I remember the first time I tried this. Beforehand I promised myself I wouldn't get addicted. I just wanted to try it, see what it was like. But after the first hit you're always wanting to do it again, always wanting to get that same fabulous feeling. But the first time is like no other. Though after that it's still a good feeling you can never get a buzz quite like the first time. No matter how many times you take smack or how much you do.
Tears are now running down my boyfriend's face. In a way I feel bad about it. I shouldn't have let it get to this, but I'm at a point where I want to die. I'm ready for it. I've hurt a lot of people throughout my addiction and it's about time I stopped that hurting.
"Goodbye," I whisper to my boyfriend, my soulmate, my companion, the only thing in this world that ever mattered to me. "See you in the afterlife." I manage a faint smile.
He releases his grip from my arm and we spend the last few seconds of my life in each other?s arms. | | Thursday, November 11th, 2004 | 7:21 pm
[becoming_broken]
|
1-14 ( Priceless Memories )
Current Mood: enthralled
Current Music: Something from Coyote Ugly | | Wednesday, November 10th, 2004 | 10:59 pm
[ffejrecuahc]
 |
Ok, so since I already missed two days in a row (me=loser) I'll start posting a little serial. It's not quite large-scale-type material yet, but with editing and stuff, I think it could turn into a pretty fun story. So, without further adieuteronomy, this is "Carioch And The Empire"
( CATE:chapter 1 )
Current Mood:  I think I got the flu, grrrr!
Current Music: give me novacaine | | Tuesday, November 9th, 2004 | 2:56 pm
[syracusepoet]
 |
I rewrote this recently, wanted to get some feedback on it. Any major problems, confusion, whatever. Thanks. ( The Mosaic of Ioanna ) | | Monday, November 8th, 2004 | 8:58 pm
[becoming_broken]
|
| 5:42 pm
[becoming_broken]
|
1-12 ( With One Kiss ) Current Mood: The rain makes me wet.Current Music: St. Jimmy | 5:11 pm
[coveted_emotion]
 |
1-3 ok this is a sequel to the short story "The Gift of the Magi". if you have never read this story, then you may not get some parts, but it still should make some sense.
<lj cut>
A sullen-faced woman with long auburn hair gazed inauspiciously out of the apartment window, her amber eyes falling into a puddle of lustful glaze. Time and stress were obviously threaded into the once beautiful girl's features, which now existed cold and dull, matching the mood of the room surrounding her.
A lone armchair occupied the tiny room, a lone, lustrous piece of furniture that glowed maroon against the pallid wallpaper and cement floor. Within this chair sat the woman, who suddenly heaved a deeply depressing sigh that echoed throughout the empty room, her eyes still fixed upon the dark tumultuous sky that matched her soul. A sudden, sharp flash of white light distracted her timeless thoughts, bringing her back to the current world that lived around her. Without uttering a sound, the weary woman lifted herself from the velvet chair and proceeded to the wooden door, silence proclaiming her mind. The door creaked open to reveal another small room in which was occupied by a thin, tall man. He sat on a brown- checked sofa, and stared mindlessly into the comfort of a flashing television screen. At the woman's entry, the aging man rose from the couch and rushed over to the woman.
"Oh, Della." The man spoke cautiously slow, and pulled his clean- shaved face close to the silent woman's. "Have I got something to tell you. Here, come to the table." The brown- haired man gently wrapped a slim wrist around the arm of the woman, and led her to a deep, oak table, on which scattered papers lay.
"Look, here," he whispered, keeping his face continuously turned to the woman's. "Look. I think I may have found the perfect house for us to move into. It's a two-story house in the suburbs of New York. Doesn't it look great! And the best part is, it's only $12,000. It's a steal. Here, come closer and have a look." The woman sighed, then pulled herself closer to the table. A picture of a small, brick building entombed her vision.
"I know it isn't much, but it's all we can really afford. We've been saving for 10 years and all we've been able to come up with is $15,000. It's not very luxurious, but it will be big enough if we decide to adopt children." Della sighed once more. Immediately, she uttered a gnarled response.
"Ywes." Her hands rose in the air to continue her message, fingers flying in symbols that depicted words in the man's head.
It's nice, Jim. It really is. It's just. I've been thinking. About both of us. And both of our problems. And the more I have been thinking, the more I've begun to realize that the road we are headed down will only lead to more bankruptcy. I know you want a place of our own, but. If we buy this place, it will eat up all of our savings. Then what will we have to live on? And with my hearing loss and your anorexia, we just can't be wasting our money. We both need medical help.
"I. but. I thought you always agreed that getting out of renting an apartment was best for us." Jim seemed hurt almost, and a hint of anger raged through his voice.
Della returned to her hand signals, giving Jim a picture of what she had to say.
I did. But. now I have changed my opinion. I. I can see what we really need. And right now, that is professional medical help. We both have serious problems. And, I know you said that the treatment center fixed you, but you've been getting thinner again. I'm worried about you.
Jim began to twitch slightly, his face deepening to a light pink.
"Della, I know you have your opinion, but really, now. Get serious. We can't keep living in this pigsty apartment building for our entire lives. We need a house! We need to stop having a rent to pay every month!"
Jim, yes, that might be true, but now is just not the time. Just - I know you disagree, but, I've had a lot of time to ponder since the accident -
"The accident! Oh, of course! That's what is behind this all! You and your stupid friends just had to go to that stupid concert - specifically when I told you not to! Just because you had a little accident cannot control the future of both our lives!"
Della felt pangs go through her chest, and a familiar wave of guilt washed through her, dirtying her with its impurity. A small teardrop flowed down her chipped cheek, falling into the crescent of the scarred skin.
Jim, I - I'm sorry that. I didn't know there was going to be a bomb. I -
"Don't go getting all sappy on me! You disobeyed my direct order! I told you not to go! I knew something was going to happen! I know what's best for you!"
Jim! Listen to yourself! I don't even know who you are anymore! You've turned into a controlling man who regulates my life! Ever since you took that stupid job with the government, everything between us has died.
Jim, however, could not focus on Della's last few statements. Instead, he only felt the rage pour through him. How dare she mouth off at me like that? I am the head of this family! She is to listen to me!
"You ungrateful little brat! How dare you talk back to me! I've paid for everything, while you just sit at home here and sulk. Boo hoo! 'All my friends were killed in a bomb explosion at a concert my loving husband told me not to attend.' You deserve to starve! I wish it would have been you that died in that explosion just so I wouldn't have to suffer through all your complaining!" Suddenly, all the emotion that had carried Jim through the years built up upon him. Rage and fury pounded through his veins, a liquid fuel that energized his thin limbs. A coursing power pulsated into his fists, and he balled them into a tight clench. He lifted his gaze to Della's distorted features, the price of the flames that had once engulfed her skin. And suddenly, he hated her, loathed every single molecule of her body. He wanted to rid her of this apartment, of this city, of this world. He wanted to kill her.
Desperately, Jim raised his fists and struck a blow in the center of Della's face, throwing her off-balance. Even though the skinny man lacked muscle and strength, his punch had injured the young woman, and a fresh stream of blood ran from her nose.
"Never," cried the man between gasping breaths. "Never." This time he rose a bony leg and brought it into her chest.
"Oomph!" came the grunted reply of the solemn victim. Della was struck off-balance once again, and this time crumpled to the ground. Jim ignored the incessant groans of his wife, the person he had once cherished and loved. But those times were long past, buried along with the rest of her snobby friends, annoying girls who shrieked and laughed at every little fact of life.
The shiny, antique lamp that perched on the top of the television set glared impetuously at the crazed man, beckoning him to take it into his grasp. Following the imperativeness of the command, he grabbed the brightly colored mosaic lamp and stared into it with a lustful passion. It had been Della's mothers, who had just passed away last summer. He had wanted to sell it to gain wealth, but his partner had disagreed. She had wanted to keep it for sentimental value. This made him loathe her even more, made the fire enveloping his veins bubble even harder. This lamp of glass, this precious token. It would die with her.
Jim raised the lamp with both hands high over his head, cherishing his moment of pride and command. He was the leader, the one who directed all. Not her.
The lamp came crashing down, spindling through the air like a mystical flash of dream and hope. The glass shattered upon the flesh of the beaten woman, pounding into cells and organs. A flashing moment passed, one of pain and regret and remorse. Then all became a black swirl of unending death.
</lj cut> | 1:02 pm
[tearfullxeyes]
 |
| | Sunday, November 7th, 2004 | 10:00 pm
[ffejrecuahc]
 |
| 7:59 pm
[becoming_broken]
|
| 6:20 pm
[becoming_broken]
|
1-10 ( Good-bye ) Current Music: Breakaway | 2:22 pm
[betterthang0lf]
 |
| 10:29 am
[coveted_emotion]
|
1-2 this is actually the first chapter to a novel im writing... hope you like it! o, btrw, irealize that this is long, and there is a certin code im supposed to use to link it, so cansomeone tell me how to do that? thanks.
The sharp wooden stake sliced into my chest, gorging pale flesh, and slicing open thousands of tiny microscopic cells huddled inside my body forming the organ known as tissue. My bloodless veins seeped invisible liquid, and my breath grew weak. I stumbled and fell, gasping for the hands of life. My precise vision blurred until it became only a fuzzy picture, a jumble of color and shape. I was losing this tumultuous battle, this fight for the destiny of life.
I stared into the face of my relentless enemy, the one who so brutally wounded me. The dark, hazel eyes seemed to smirk with a happiness that came from destroying his rival. Then, it was my turn to smirk, my turn to giggle. A stifled laugh echoed off my dark, red lips, reverberating into the chilled night air.
"Hahahahaha," I grumbled, trying hard not to burst out with a song of happiness. This took my betrayer by surprise.
"Why do you laugh, creature?" he pondered. "I have penetrated you with the stake of wood, the symbol of death for all of your kind. You are sure to succumb soon."
All I could do was chuckle once more.
"You are a fool," I choked through my spurts of uncontrollable laughter.
"Why do you say that? I am not the one who is dying right now." This puny pathetic mortal of a lesser intelligence couldn't understand anything.
"Because," I started, feeling pomposity rage through my arteries, filling my entire body within a second, spreading from head to toe. I removed the wooden stake from my chest, yanking it out in one quick swipe. " You missed my heart." And with that, I leaped.
Swinging my legs through the air, I landed feet first on his chest. Falling, falling, we both hit the hard dirt ground. I had managed to keep my hold on him as we fell, so I was perched on top of his fleshy stomach, and now I gazed piercingly into his eyes.
"Look at me," I whispered, seducing his senses, bewildering his mind. He tried to abandon my stare, but it was too late. He slowly stopped revolting, and then he was mine. I had him in my trance. Slowly, but steadily, I put my mouth to his neck. My teeth sharpened at the sight of pounding flesh. Throb, throb. Throb, throb. It was calling to me, singing in the language of the malevolent enmities of the heart. Yes. Yes. Soon you will all be mine. Yes.
I could feel the warm, pulsating skin just under me. My fangs started to water at this delicious new prey. Closer, closer. I hovered just above the beating blood, and I almost fainted with the enormous temptation. My fangs connected. Yes! The warm, fresh tingly substance that brought me life bubbled inside my mouth. The instance the blood touched my tongue, I felt a pulse of energy fly through my body. It was so good to- no! My victim stirred. His trance had broken! No! I needed more life, more energy!
I lifted my head and gazed once again into his eyes. But this time, the human was not as foolish. He quickly shielded his eyes from mine. He would not fall into my grasp once again. This weakling was angering me with his foolish and uncooperative ways.
"Look at me, fool!" I bellowed, the fury raging in my voice.
"No," he cried, his face scrunching up at these words. "I will not fall down to you!" He struggled under my strong grasp, but it was no use against my powerful hold.
Then, with a sudden lurch and the quickness of a cheetah, he swung his leg out from under me and smacked my head, and I flew back, away from my live prey. I landed in a heap, my elbow beneath my back, one leg twisted over the other.
"I said no," he muttered. "Never in the course of all history shall I let you take me. I will not be ruled by a vampire!"
"The arrogance you maintain is amazing," I mumbled, untangling myself from the mess he had created and rubbing the side of my cheek where he had struck me. I climbed to my feet and stood, menacing and evil. "But you seem to not understand. You have been marked with the bite of a vampire. Death is searching for you, waiting to claim your soul. You cannot survive the thrash of death."
"In that case," he whispered, "neither shall you."
He pulled the wooden spear out from behind his back so quick, that I didn't even have time to react. It was like I saw him from outside of my body. I was powerless to react to his threat of attack. I was so slow, as so as a sloth on a mid-summer's morn. The human lunged. I saw him, flying in the air, staring at his target, my heart. Yet I could not do a single thing to stop him.
The wooden stake ground through my skin, this time impaling my heart. The pain was real now, real as a mortal would feel it. Clear and cold it rang through my body. I was becoming mortal, passing through the stage so I could die. Immense waves of fear passed through me, and I whimpered a small cry of dread and horror.
So this was what it was like to die, what it was like to feel fear. My invincibility had left me behind, and now I was vulnerable to the pain of the world. This is what your victims felt like. They felt this fear, this anxiety before they died. They didn't want to lose their souls to death. They were scared, just like you are now. My conscience returned from long, long ago, from when I had abandoned it as a teenager, back before this human who had inflicted this mortal wound on me had even taken a breath, when I became one of the Undead. It was still so clear to me, even as I was dying:
I was alone in the forest, out on a midnight walk. Mother had said it would not be safe to be in the forest at night, for creatures of terrible descent roamed there, searching for innocent souls to inflict their horror on. But I didn't listen, did I? I was always the disobedient one, the one who always loved to get into trouble. The rebel. Then I spotted the dark, gloomy man walking through the shadows, a long, flowing black cape blanketing his pale skin against the cool of the night. He noticed me, then paused. He was hidden behind a huge oak tree, hiding in the blackness, waiting, deciding what to do. Then he revealed himself from the shadows, and I almost screamed. His eyes glowed wildly, flashing in the dim light from my heavy lantern. His teeth, they were so... pointed, as if he were a wild animal. His nose was a pointed stub that protruded out from his round face. His dark hair was messily tossed to the side, as if he hadn't had time to tidy it. He looked like an enraged beast hunting for its prey. Then he spoke in a deep, dark voice that seemed to control everything, even the atoms that made up the universe, enabling them to do his bidding. "Come here girl," he whispered slyly. "Come here, and I shall show you great things, things far beyond your dense imagination. Come here." I could not disobey the empowering voice, that commanding sound. So I went to him, closer and closer, until he brushed up against my skin. "You are a fine girl," he muttered. "Very fine. In fact..." He stopped for a moment, as if to ponder something. Then he spoke again. "Yes, yes, yes. You are the finest I have ever seen. You would do well at my side. My girl, my girl, how would you like to be mine. I can show you great things, greater than you could ever conceive. All I ask is that you will be mine." How could I refuse his generous offer? How? He was so persuasive and inducing and he even generated a kind of handsome aura if you looked past the beast on the outside. "Alright," I whispered, feeling I had made the right choice. He nestled closer to me and nudged my cheek.. "You have made an excellent choice my dear. Excellent indeed." His lips brushed mine, and before I knew it, we were engulfed in a full-out kiss. His tender, sweet lips felt so good against mine, his nagging tongue shoving it's way through my parted lips. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, he pulled away. "Not quite yet, my dear. First I must perform a small procedure. Now I must warn you, this may hurt for just a small amount of time, but in the end it will be worth it. Do you understand?" I nodded seductively, trying to see if I could cast a few spells of my own. "What an obedient spouse I have chosen!" he cried, his sharp, attractive teeth poking through his gleaming smile. He leaned down to my neck, rubbing his mouth tenderly against my neck. Then a small prick startled me, and I jumped. "No! No! Do not be afraid! I am not going to hurt you! It will be all better soon, my dear sweet." I relaxed my tensed muscles, listening to the calming voice of my now betrothed. The prickle continued, and I felt something wet run down my neck and onto my chest. Then I felt a wet object licking the speckle of wetness off my cleavage. It was my lover's tongue. I let him continue his work, whatever he was doing. It felt good, almost relaxing if even. But throughout the "procedure", I felt myself growing immensely tired, as if all my energy were being drained. I struggled just to keep my eyelids open. My neck had now gone completely numb, along with the rest of my body. The numbness spread like a disease, filling each and every cell until it had contaminated my entire body. My legs strained under my heavy weight. I could not stand any longer. A weak voice filled my ears as I fainted. "No, no, dear! I'm almost done. It'll be okay! Just stay still for a little while longer..." Then all went black and I was gone.
It was the first time I had remembered my past life since the day I became a vampire. I had almost forgotten who I was, what I used to be. How could I have been so gullible? I pondered to myself. How could I have let him bite me? I had become his queen after that, his true love. We had lived so happily together, in serene peace, going out for a hunt each night. Until the vampire hunter Zeldron Hidalgo came along and murdered him. And now he had murdered me....
Ahhh. Another wave of pain cut through me like a knife cuts through a slice of bread. Did every vampire have glimpses of their past lives when they died? Did they....oohhhhhhhh. The pain was immense now. I felt a small flutter of emotion inside me, some human emotion I hadn't uncovered for about 500 years.....It was.....I think it was something like....
I was sorry. I felt sorry for drinking the eternal juices of life from all those people I had thrived on throughout the years. I was so sorry....
I fell straight backwards. The pain-oh, like someone was, like someone.like someone was burning me alive. Too bad I wasn't a witch. Hahahaha.. My mind was leaving me. Human emotions entangled me in their grasps pulling me through my inner mind, showing me pain and anger and love and hate. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't.
I was dead.
| | Saturday, November 6th, 2004 | 5:37 pm
[ffejrecuahc]
|
|
[ << Previous 20 ]
|