How do you know you're being watched?
Is it the sound of footsteps behind you, echoing your own, footsteps which pause the moment you turn around? Or perhaps that's just an echo against the walls of the alleyway, the walls which, at that moment, seem to trap you, closing in as you realize that around the corner could be...
Is it the sudden noise which interrupts your thoughtful silence, frightening you into alertness? Or maybe that's simply a stray animal knocking over a pile of refuse...or only your imagination...
Or is it that subtle feeling of dread which consumes you everywhere you go? The invisible hand which clutches at your throat, constricting your airways, and presses at your chest, forcing your lungs to fight for breath? The prickling of the hair at the back of your neck? The pounding in your head which tolls like a constant bell, warning you, urging you to run...
Amira knew. She hadn't seen the beast, but it was there. Watching her. Following her. It had to be. She felt it, felt it in the blood which coursed through her veins, the blood which could have been spilled, could still be spilled if the vampire tired of its subtle game and descended on its prey.
After a few days, though, Amira began to doubt herself. She was nervous, flighty; the strange, dreamy visions she experienced didn't help. Perhaps she was letting her fear of the monster consume her.
Perhaps.
That slightly comforting notion, however, disappeared very shortly.
Amira wasn't exactly a medical expert. Nevertheless, body parts are surprisingly easy to recognize, even when they aren't connected to each other. Even when they're scattered grotesquely across a lush front lawn. A fingertip. A bit of flesh stuck to a blade of grass. A tissue of unrecognizable origin, perhaps from a vital organ...but not a trace of blood.
She remained only long enough to strew her last meal amongst the bits of gore before she set off at a run.
Where had that man said he kept shop? Too far, certainly. The Shanty Market? Halfway across the city. But where else could she go? It at least gave her a direction, a way to flee, a goal to keep her running. For to stop could mean her death.
Not that running could save her.
Did she hear the monster behind her? No. Yes. No. Was that the beast looming up in front of her? No. It was her mind, taking over, grasping hold of her awareness. For once, she willingly submitted herself to it. By fearing what her mind created, she could, at least temporarily, escape the immediate, real dread of death at the vampire's hands.
Her own thoughts, however, yanked her out before she could embrace the dream state. Jarred back to reality, she felt it all more intensely: the sweat evaporating from her brow, the pain in her calves with each quick stride, the sting of her fingernails digging into the palms of her fisted hands. And then she remembered the thought that had pulled her back.
Would her death have saved that man (or woman; thankfully, she had seen no evidence as to the scattered corpse's gender)? Would he, or she, be alive now if Amira had fallen to the vampire?
If she escaped again, who else would die?
And then another thought surpassed these in its horror: it was growing dark.
It was growing dark, and she had no idea how far she was from her home, or from the Market towards which she hoped she was heading. Even if her destination was close, Amira had no idea whether the man who had offered her help would be anywhere near.
Or whether, by running blindly, she had just condemned herself to death.
An Unwelcome Reunion
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Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
She had considered how to kill this human who had caused her such pain and terror. The vampire didn't care that she herself had caused the pain and terror merely by stalking the human; culpability was lost on her.
And she was, after all, insane.
She had stalked the woman for days and left pretty little presents on the woman's lawn and doorstep. As a reminder of an inevitable violent death. She hoped the woman appreciated the gifts. She'd made them all herself. And she'd quite enjoyed the results.
The woman was paranoid, filled to the brim with the panicked fear of prey which knows it is being stalked and doesn't know how to lose the predator. The vampire enjoyed every moment of her personal show. She wondered just how far she could take it. But she would not attack yet. Blind fear led to a near-merciful kill; a human with that much adrenaline coursing through them barely felt the pain of being ripped apart, or the drain of their life's blood ebbing away. It made the blood taste like orange tang, and pump faster than she liked. It was hard to drink blood rushing by at a river's pace.
She wanted this female to feel that pain, to register her death even before it happened. She wanted to see the terror of anticipation in this woman's eyes.
She wanted to play.
A light whisper in her mind, a quiet and gentle request for the shadows to join in her game. They giggled and tittered to her, pleased that she had come to give them something to do. She so rarely visited these days; she stayed in the woods as much as possible. This human had taught the vampire a particular lesson: stay in the areas you know, or at least areas you trust.
A thin line of shadow spread across the road ahead of the woman, no more than twenty feet but enough time to set the trap. Simple and effective, if the woman didn't notice the twine...
The vampire smiled from her place in the shadows, and waited to see what would happen. If this didn't work, there was always another game to play.
And she was, after all, insane.
She had stalked the woman for days and left pretty little presents on the woman's lawn and doorstep. As a reminder of an inevitable violent death. She hoped the woman appreciated the gifts. She'd made them all herself. And she'd quite enjoyed the results.
The woman was paranoid, filled to the brim with the panicked fear of prey which knows it is being stalked and doesn't know how to lose the predator. The vampire enjoyed every moment of her personal show. She wondered just how far she could take it. But she would not attack yet. Blind fear led to a near-merciful kill; a human with that much adrenaline coursing through them barely felt the pain of being ripped apart, or the drain of their life's blood ebbing away. It made the blood taste like orange tang, and pump faster than she liked. It was hard to drink blood rushing by at a river's pace.
She wanted this female to feel that pain, to register her death even before it happened. She wanted to see the terror of anticipation in this woman's eyes.
She wanted to play.
A light whisper in her mind, a quiet and gentle request for the shadows to join in her game. They giggled and tittered to her, pleased that she had come to give them something to do. She so rarely visited these days; she stayed in the woods as much as possible. This human had taught the vampire a particular lesson: stay in the areas you know, or at least areas you trust.
A thin line of shadow spread across the road ahead of the woman, no more than twenty feet but enough time to set the trap. Simple and effective, if the woman didn't notice the twine...
The vampire smiled from her place in the shadows, and waited to see what would happen. If this didn't work, there was always another game to play.
It happened so quickly she almost didn't notice. She didn't feel her foot hit something in its way, didn't notice she'd tripped until she was falling, the ground rushing up in front of her. Panicking, she threw her hands out, and her wrists protested at the impact. Her sword wrist, not yet healed from her last encounter with the vampire, sent shivers of pain up her arm, and she hissed in a sharp breath.
Moments later, her face hit the ground, and she closed her eyes as she felt gravel dig into her flesh. If she had been alert, and in a better state, she might have rolled, or otherwise avoided the brunt of the impact. But she had spent the last days in a fog, a fog from which she thought she might never escape.
If she even lived to try.
Grunting, she pushed her head off the ground, her sword wrist arguing mightily. Speaking of which, she hoped to the gods she'd brought her sword. That would be a disaster if she hadn't. Against the ground as she was, she couldn't feel its weight, but there was no way for her to grab at it now; she couldn't even get up yet.
"You make this harder on yourself," she growled, shaking her head to clear any remaining gravel -- or blood, she thought; was the wetness on her cheeks crimson-stained, or was it only sweat? "On both of us. You could just kill me and get it over with. I know you could."
It wasn't as though she wanted to die. But she didn't want to spend another night in a morbid dance with this beast. Tonight, either she would truly win, or she would suffer the ultimate loss. There would be no compromises this time, no struggle to wear each other down that left them both broken. For if she let this continue, she would spend her entire life running, and that was not life.
Moments later, her face hit the ground, and she closed her eyes as she felt gravel dig into her flesh. If she had been alert, and in a better state, she might have rolled, or otherwise avoided the brunt of the impact. But she had spent the last days in a fog, a fog from which she thought she might never escape.
If she even lived to try.
Grunting, she pushed her head off the ground, her sword wrist arguing mightily. Speaking of which, she hoped to the gods she'd brought her sword. That would be a disaster if she hadn't. Against the ground as she was, she couldn't feel its weight, but there was no way for her to grab at it now; she couldn't even get up yet.
"You make this harder on yourself," she growled, shaking her head to clear any remaining gravel -- or blood, she thought; was the wetness on her cheeks crimson-stained, or was it only sweat? "On both of us. You could just kill me and get it over with. I know you could."
It wasn't as though she wanted to die. But she didn't want to spend another night in a morbid dance with this beast. Tonight, either she would truly win, or she would suffer the ultimate loss. There would be no compromises this time, no struggle to wear each other down that left them both broken. For if she let this continue, she would spend her entire life running, and that was not life.
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Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
The vampire listened to the woman's words, but didn't focus on the full message. She tried to grasp what the woman was implying but found herself at a loss. She didn't understand how her game was making anything whatsoever harder on her. Only on this woman.
But then, that's what words were for. To twist and convolute truth until it was nothing but placation. Perhaps this woman had convinced herself that for the vampire, it was some kind of struggle to pick off a human and spread its remains across her house. It always fascinated her how safe the populace considered itself. Was murder truly so uncommon?
The vampire stepped out into the dim dusk light, moving slowly toward her prey. The woman was a mess of gravel and sweat, and her stench was powerful. The vampire didn't care to hide herself, and walked toward the woman from the front, visible until she stood in the sun's dying light and became an eclipsed silhouette.
This woman thought there was some difficulty here? The vampire couldn't help a snort of amusement. She crouched down, no more than a foot away, and cocked her head as she examined the mess that the woman had become in only a few short days. Such power over the living...such a simple game. The vampire was almost disappointed.
She reached out to brush bits of gravel from the woman's face, an abusive parent's touch that carried no warmth to it. She shuttered her eyes as she stared down at the female.
"I could."
Her voice was stronger and clearer than before - it denoted her strength, and that she had recently fed. It left no weakness, and for once, didn't crack. Though if she spoke in true sentences, it would at least warble.
"But not yet."
But then, that's what words were for. To twist and convolute truth until it was nothing but placation. Perhaps this woman had convinced herself that for the vampire, it was some kind of struggle to pick off a human and spread its remains across her house. It always fascinated her how safe the populace considered itself. Was murder truly so uncommon?
The vampire stepped out into the dim dusk light, moving slowly toward her prey. The woman was a mess of gravel and sweat, and her stench was powerful. The vampire didn't care to hide herself, and walked toward the woman from the front, visible until she stood in the sun's dying light and became an eclipsed silhouette.
This woman thought there was some difficulty here? The vampire couldn't help a snort of amusement. She crouched down, no more than a foot away, and cocked her head as she examined the mess that the woman had become in only a few short days. Such power over the living...such a simple game. The vampire was almost disappointed.
She reached out to brush bits of gravel from the woman's face, an abusive parent's touch that carried no warmth to it. She shuttered her eyes as she stared down at the female.
"I could."
Her voice was stronger and clearer than before - it denoted her strength, and that she had recently fed. It left no weakness, and for once, didn't crack. Though if she spoke in true sentences, it would at least warble.
"But not yet."
Amira shrunk away, scowling. The touch was the worst. The vampire could stalk, mock, even kill her, but that touch was an invasion which was impossible to bear.
Keep talking. That could distract the beast. Well, probably not. It didn't seem to pay much attention to what she said. On the other hand, she might provoke it to kill her. Would an enraged vampire result in a quicker fate for Amira than a calmly methodical one? Or would it happen the other way around?
"You put yourself in danger every time you prolong this," she replied, slowly pulling herself to her knees. "Are you so confident that you think yourself undefeatable?" She narrowed her eyes, looking squarely up at the beast. "I'm not random prey anymore. I've fought you before. I've hurt you. Don't pretend you don't remember what that felt like."
She felt a weight at her hip as she struggled to pull herself up. Please, she begged any god that would listen, please let that be my sword.
She tightened her jaw. In any case, there was no way to draw it now. The beast controlled this situation; Amira was powerless. And that meant this would not be easy, whatever the outcome. It would be painful.
"Do you remember? Painful, wasn't it? Did it hurt your pride? Is that what this is about?"
She was only half aware of what she was saying. She only hoped it didn't make things worse.
Keep talking. That could distract the beast. Well, probably not. It didn't seem to pay much attention to what she said. On the other hand, she might provoke it to kill her. Would an enraged vampire result in a quicker fate for Amira than a calmly methodical one? Or would it happen the other way around?
"You put yourself in danger every time you prolong this," she replied, slowly pulling herself to her knees. "Are you so confident that you think yourself undefeatable?" She narrowed her eyes, looking squarely up at the beast. "I'm not random prey anymore. I've fought you before. I've hurt you. Don't pretend you don't remember what that felt like."
She felt a weight at her hip as she struggled to pull herself up. Please, she begged any god that would listen, please let that be my sword.
She tightened her jaw. In any case, there was no way to draw it now. The beast controlled this situation; Amira was powerless. And that meant this would not be easy, whatever the outcome. It would be painful.
"Do you remember? Painful, wasn't it? Did it hurt your pride? Is that what this is about?"
She was only half aware of what she was saying. She only hoped it didn't make things worse.
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Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
The woman was right; the vampire rarely listened to more beyond the first words she spoke. The vampire had become accustomed to tuning out her victim's screams, pleading, and desperate reasoning. And that's all this was to her. Logic sprung from terror for the purpose of trying to convince her not to kill this human female.
Jenica waited a long moment after the woman finished speaking, eyeing the body sprawled before her with obvious blood lust. The words were irrelevant, but humans always felt the need to gab. The vampire responded to the only part she'd heard.
"Do I?"
The human's words did manage to annoy the vampire. Her own sire had warned her not to underestimate humans when she'd left his mansion. It was not her pride that was hurt; she didn't know if she had any pride left to speak of. No, what grated against her enough to focus her attentions on this one female was that his words had been proven correct. She needed to make them wrong again. She needed him to represent all that was wrong and evil. If she didn't have that focus, that unerring hatred...
She snarled, deep in her throat, loud and powerful and somewhat jarring in the quiet night air.
The vampire's hand reached down to grip the woman around the back of her neck in a tight and painful pinch. She would then stand, hauling the woman up with her, to drag her to the side and slam her against a wall, force her arms above her head and move in to tear a hole in her throat and drink the blood which flowed thereafter...
Jenica waited a long moment after the woman finished speaking, eyeing the body sprawled before her with obvious blood lust. The words were irrelevant, but humans always felt the need to gab. The vampire responded to the only part she'd heard.
"Do I?"
The human's words did manage to annoy the vampire. Her own sire had warned her not to underestimate humans when she'd left his mansion. It was not her pride that was hurt; she didn't know if she had any pride left to speak of. No, what grated against her enough to focus her attentions on this one female was that his words had been proven correct. She needed to make them wrong again. She needed him to represent all that was wrong and evil. If she didn't have that focus, that unerring hatred...
She snarled, deep in her throat, loud and powerful and somewhat jarring in the quiet night air.
The vampire's hand reached down to grip the woman around the back of her neck in a tight and painful pinch. She would then stand, hauling the woman up with her, to drag her to the side and slam her against a wall, force her arms above her head and move in to tear a hole in her throat and drink the blood which flowed thereafter...
Aha. There it was, she thought as the beast pulled her upwards. Her sword, dangling from her hip. The recognizable weight resulted in an odd feeling of relief -- odd because the blade could not help her now.
So this was it. She felt absolutely detached from the situation, as if watching from afar as the vampire dragged her upwards. As if pitying the poor soul who was about to die at a vicious beast's hands -- or fangs.
Would it be quick? It wasn't as though she'd ever died from blood loss before, or heard a firsthand account. Would she recognize the last of her lifeblood draining from her veins?
She wished she could force herself into a dream. She would have given anything to experience those strange visions which haunted her, to avoid the reality of her death in favor of a vivid fantasy. Perhaps, that way, she would never know when she died. Perhaps she would remain trapped in her dreamworld forever, oblivious, always with the hope of returning to reality -- a hope which would remain unfulfilled, but of which she would not realize the futility. Those last seconds before her death could last an eternity in her own mind.
A tempting thought. However, to separate herself from her mind, from the visions which grasped at her, would allow her to rest, to abandon her cares for the ultimate sleep. To experience a relief which she would never recognize.
With these thoughts, death gained an immediacy, and she was frantically aware of her arms stretched above her, a throbbing in the back of her skull, a straining in her wrist.
She was going to die.
Had she wanted to die? Had she understood what that meant? For a moment, she thought she would almost rather spend the rest of her life running than surrender this life to nothingness. For at least in such a life there would be sensation, emotion, passion...and as terrible as they all might be, they would all be real.
Was she ready to give up her life?
What had she done? She had condemned herself without a thought, hoped for the beast to slay her, consciously chosen to cause her own death. She had practically committed suicide.
It wasn't as though she had anything, anyone to live for...But that wasn't true. She had herself. She had her pride, her passion, her memories of love and a better life. She had life. Was any life a life worth living?
There was no use questioning her choice now. It had been made, the vampire had reacted, and Amira was about to fall from the earth, remembered only by the beast which prepared to kill her.
She tried to scream, but as the vampire descended on her throat, only a whimper could escape her quivering lips.
Amira was not ready to die.
So this was it. She felt absolutely detached from the situation, as if watching from afar as the vampire dragged her upwards. As if pitying the poor soul who was about to die at a vicious beast's hands -- or fangs.
Would it be quick? It wasn't as though she'd ever died from blood loss before, or heard a firsthand account. Would she recognize the last of her lifeblood draining from her veins?
She wished she could force herself into a dream. She would have given anything to experience those strange visions which haunted her, to avoid the reality of her death in favor of a vivid fantasy. Perhaps, that way, she would never know when she died. Perhaps she would remain trapped in her dreamworld forever, oblivious, always with the hope of returning to reality -- a hope which would remain unfulfilled, but of which she would not realize the futility. Those last seconds before her death could last an eternity in her own mind.
A tempting thought. However, to separate herself from her mind, from the visions which grasped at her, would allow her to rest, to abandon her cares for the ultimate sleep. To experience a relief which she would never recognize.
With these thoughts, death gained an immediacy, and she was frantically aware of her arms stretched above her, a throbbing in the back of her skull, a straining in her wrist.
She was going to die.
Had she wanted to die? Had she understood what that meant? For a moment, she thought she would almost rather spend the rest of her life running than surrender this life to nothingness. For at least in such a life there would be sensation, emotion, passion...and as terrible as they all might be, they would all be real.
Was she ready to give up her life?
What had she done? She had condemned herself without a thought, hoped for the beast to slay her, consciously chosen to cause her own death. She had practically committed suicide.
It wasn't as though she had anything, anyone to live for...But that wasn't true. She had herself. She had her pride, her passion, her memories of love and a better life. She had life. Was any life a life worth living?
There was no use questioning her choice now. It had been made, the vampire had reacted, and Amira was about to fall from the earth, remembered only by the beast which prepared to kill her.
She tried to scream, but as the vampire descended on her throat, only a whimper could escape her quivering lips.
Amira was not ready to die.
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Valz Malar
- Citizen
- Posts: 94
- Joined: Mon Aug 07, 2006 5:03 am
- Race: Human
Laying in bed Valz felt exhausted. His body ached but his mind was alert. Days later there were still a few deep splinters embedded in his arm and his sword hand had a nasty blood filled blister on it from the stomping foot of the vampire. Just thinking of the creature sent adrenaline coursing through his body again. Laying on his back, fully dressed, unable to sleep, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought Valz went back through his life. Facing death was nothing new. He instinctively knew that he would die violently, that was simply his lot in life and he was not afraid. He had stared death swinging for him many a time, but never had he faced anything remotely like the vampire. She was so alien, just a machine, yet appeared so human, it was hard to wrap his head around.
A fly crawled across the ceiling, watching, waiting, buzzing, catching his eye, distracting him from his thoughts. The fly jogged his memory and led him down the winding path of his mind, away from the vampire, to the woman he had helped save. He hadn’t seen her since he left her standing in a broken house, smelling of blood and fear. He couldn’t bring himself to go back and see if she was okay. Something within him didn’t feel right about it. A day later he had caught himself wandering the city in a spiral, bringing him closer and closer to her house almost against his will. He had stopped, leaning against a wall, watching people go about their business. Valz was comfortable there, cloaked in anonymity, people flowing around him as if he wasn’t even there; as he stood there his vision became blurry, a fog crowded into his mind, he felt constricted, and before he knew what was happening he was looking at himself from a vantage across the way. Laying in bed now, thinking back on it, Valz could see himself standing there, leaning against the wall. Not in the way that he normally thought of himself as being “there” but actually seeing himself as if he looked through a different set of eyes. Not easily rattled, this was enough to make Valz return home and lay down. The whole way back he heard whispers of side conversations among people who weren’t there. Were they talking to him? He wasn’t even sure, so he laid and pondered. He hadn’t really moved in the interval.
The fly buzzed off, bringing Valz back to reality. He paused and tried to remember how many days had passed since he left his room. He didn’t know. This was not who he was.
*****
I am stronger than this.
Think logically. There are only two real options: Either the beast poisoned me, or I am going mad. If I am mad then would I even be questioning it? No. I am not mad. Yet, I feel healthy, I feel fine, so how can I be poisoned? I am just hearing so much…randomness. I know I’ve heard this before. When? Where…The house.
*****
The connection made, pieces fell into place for him at that moment. He had heard things like this once before. As he broke into the room where the vampire held the woman he heard the shadows speaking. That was it. The vampire was the connection. So what did that make the whispering he had heard in the past few days? Was it the vampire talking to him or was he hearing her without her knowing? There were times when it had been stronger. Does that mean she was close? Valz had been ignoring it, but it was there right now. He heard it, and not far.
Springing from his bed, his body ached, muscles tensed, adrenaline started coursing through his blood. Still in the same dirty, stained, sweat soaked clothes, he grabbed his sword and left. Valz glanced up and to the West as he walked through the door, just in time to see the sun slip behind the roofs…it was almost dusk.
Standing in the middle of the street, oblivious to those around him, as they were oblivious to him Valz listened. Tuning out the noise around him he attempted to focus…concentrate. Unsure if he had heard something or was just following a gut instinct, Valz took off at a fast walk down the street. Moving through the city with grace, he avoided making contact with anyone, give them a reason to ignore you he thought, pausing now and then to try and get his bearings he felt stronger and stronger that he was going in the right direction.
The noises at the edge of his hearing were getting louder. It was a jumbled cacophony in his ears. As he stood there, alone in the rapidly diminishing light he felt the shadows around him. Out of the corner of his eye, at the periphery of his vision he saw them move towards an alley. Abandoning caution he ran forward, into the inky blackness, emerging on the other side into the final fading rays of the sun. There the vampire stood, her back to him, grasping the woman close, leaning in.
Valz had to act, there was no time to cross the distance…
As he scooped a stone and planted his feet he saw the vampire lean in to the woman (he realized that he didn’t even know her name…what an odd thing to think at a time like this), her fangs bared in anticipation.
Everything moved slowly. His arm rotated, the rock released into the air towards the back of the vampires head, he watched the vampire’s fangs break the skin of the woman…
“I’m too late”, he thought while his arm followed through the swing.
A fly crawled across the ceiling, watching, waiting, buzzing, catching his eye, distracting him from his thoughts. The fly jogged his memory and led him down the winding path of his mind, away from the vampire, to the woman he had helped save. He hadn’t seen her since he left her standing in a broken house, smelling of blood and fear. He couldn’t bring himself to go back and see if she was okay. Something within him didn’t feel right about it. A day later he had caught himself wandering the city in a spiral, bringing him closer and closer to her house almost against his will. He had stopped, leaning against a wall, watching people go about their business. Valz was comfortable there, cloaked in anonymity, people flowing around him as if he wasn’t even there; as he stood there his vision became blurry, a fog crowded into his mind, he felt constricted, and before he knew what was happening he was looking at himself from a vantage across the way. Laying in bed now, thinking back on it, Valz could see himself standing there, leaning against the wall. Not in the way that he normally thought of himself as being “there” but actually seeing himself as if he looked through a different set of eyes. Not easily rattled, this was enough to make Valz return home and lay down. The whole way back he heard whispers of side conversations among people who weren’t there. Were they talking to him? He wasn’t even sure, so he laid and pondered. He hadn’t really moved in the interval.
The fly buzzed off, bringing Valz back to reality. He paused and tried to remember how many days had passed since he left his room. He didn’t know. This was not who he was.
*****
I am stronger than this.
Think logically. There are only two real options: Either the beast poisoned me, or I am going mad. If I am mad then would I even be questioning it? No. I am not mad. Yet, I feel healthy, I feel fine, so how can I be poisoned? I am just hearing so much…randomness. I know I’ve heard this before. When? Where…The house.
*****
The connection made, pieces fell into place for him at that moment. He had heard things like this once before. As he broke into the room where the vampire held the woman he heard the shadows speaking. That was it. The vampire was the connection. So what did that make the whispering he had heard in the past few days? Was it the vampire talking to him or was he hearing her without her knowing? There were times when it had been stronger. Does that mean she was close? Valz had been ignoring it, but it was there right now. He heard it, and not far.
Springing from his bed, his body ached, muscles tensed, adrenaline started coursing through his blood. Still in the same dirty, stained, sweat soaked clothes, he grabbed his sword and left. Valz glanced up and to the West as he walked through the door, just in time to see the sun slip behind the roofs…it was almost dusk.
Standing in the middle of the street, oblivious to those around him, as they were oblivious to him Valz listened. Tuning out the noise around him he attempted to focus…concentrate. Unsure if he had heard something or was just following a gut instinct, Valz took off at a fast walk down the street. Moving through the city with grace, he avoided making contact with anyone, give them a reason to ignore you he thought, pausing now and then to try and get his bearings he felt stronger and stronger that he was going in the right direction.
The noises at the edge of his hearing were getting louder. It was a jumbled cacophony in his ears. As he stood there, alone in the rapidly diminishing light he felt the shadows around him. Out of the corner of his eye, at the periphery of his vision he saw them move towards an alley. Abandoning caution he ran forward, into the inky blackness, emerging on the other side into the final fading rays of the sun. There the vampire stood, her back to him, grasping the woman close, leaning in.
Valz had to act, there was no time to cross the distance…
As he scooped a stone and planted his feet he saw the vampire lean in to the woman (he realized that he didn’t even know her name…what an odd thing to think at a time like this), her fangs bared in anticipation.
Everything moved slowly. His arm rotated, the rock released into the air towards the back of the vampires head, he watched the vampire’s fangs break the skin of the woman…
“I’m too late”, he thought while his arm followed through the swing.
The only dirty fight is the fight you lose...
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Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
Jenica spread the female before her with a greedy hiss and bared her fangs, ravenous to start the night's entertainment. She would not kill this female outright - no, this female would be her game for hours upon hours. Perhaps days. The vampire had experimented a bit on how long one human could last as a play thing, but never with a fighter or one with a fighter's spirt. As her incisors slid into the human's throat to bare the vein and provide a drink, the vampire shuttered her eyes and let loose a small sigh of pleasure. Her focus was absolute upon the flesh and blood before her.
Thwap.
The stone hit dead center in the back of the vampire's head, and the creature exploded away from her prey in a sudden movement of shock and pain. Her hands grasped her head as she gave a small stumble back and she fought to refocus herself and remember what she was doing. But soon she remembered, and her mind was clear. And as she shifted her focus to the male, this new threat who stood emerged from the shadows - from her shadows - her eyes glistened blood-shot and filled with death.
The female to one side and this male to the other. Both fighters, and she remembered the scent of this one - he had been there, at that house. He had been on the other side of the door. He had been...
The shadows roared and whispered, telling her he was strange, he could feel them and they him. He was like a brother to them, they said, a brother to us as you are...
The thought of kinship drove the creature mad. She would not accept that a human could be similar, could share the same connection with the dark. In some way it brought her closer to her humanity - for even in his weakest moment, this male contained more humanity than she had in years.
Jenica reached down and took up the stone where it lay, heaving with her rage. This male thought to interrupt the game, and worse, he was the same as that from before. He had seen her weak and he thought her prey. And worse, far worse than anything else...he was like unto her.
The vampire's rage gained focus. She would not attack this male head-on, not knowing what sort of weapons beyond a stone he might bring. She would attack the female instead. Lay down the foe behind her, then focus on the enemy before.
Those eyes turned on the human female, and the vampire advanced while raising the stone. The game was over. She would dash this human female's brains along the wall, then attack the male as his shock at the sight overcame him.
Thwap.
The stone hit dead center in the back of the vampire's head, and the creature exploded away from her prey in a sudden movement of shock and pain. Her hands grasped her head as she gave a small stumble back and she fought to refocus herself and remember what she was doing. But soon she remembered, and her mind was clear. And as she shifted her focus to the male, this new threat who stood emerged from the shadows - from her shadows - her eyes glistened blood-shot and filled with death.
The female to one side and this male to the other. Both fighters, and she remembered the scent of this one - he had been there, at that house. He had been on the other side of the door. He had been...
The shadows roared and whispered, telling her he was strange, he could feel them and they him. He was like a brother to them, they said, a brother to us as you are...
The thought of kinship drove the creature mad. She would not accept that a human could be similar, could share the same connection with the dark. In some way it brought her closer to her humanity - for even in his weakest moment, this male contained more humanity than she had in years.
Jenica reached down and took up the stone where it lay, heaving with her rage. This male thought to interrupt the game, and worse, he was the same as that from before. He had seen her weak and he thought her prey. And worse, far worse than anything else...he was like unto her.
The vampire's rage gained focus. She would not attack this male head-on, not knowing what sort of weapons beyond a stone he might bring. She would attack the female instead. Lay down the foe behind her, then focus on the enemy before.
Those eyes turned on the human female, and the vampire advanced while raising the stone. The game was over. She would dash this human female's brains along the wall, then attack the male as his shock at the sight overcame him.
Pain.
She wasn't unused to pain; her flesh wasn't unscarred. Perhaps, though, that pain which brings death is somewhat more intense, more poignant because of the knowledge that it will be followed by a loss of all sensation, both pain and pleasure. Perhaps your body grasps as it as a last connection to the world, a last gasp of awareness before death.
Or perhaps the incision was simply the most painful experience Amira had ever suffered. It wasn't as though she had a basis for comparison.
Whatever the case, at that moment, she lost everything to the pain. It was her center, the one focus of her being; all other thoughts flew from her as if driven away, as if this sensation left room for nothing else. For a moment, she wasn't even aware of its cause. The puncturing of her skin, the digging of the vampire's incisors into her flesh -- none of this meant anything, not then. All she knew was pain. She was pain.
Something -- those ripping incisors -- had filled the wound before. Now it was empty, and its crimson ward was pouring forth.
As she slumped to the ground, her arms released, she instinctually jerked a hand to her neck, pressing her palm against the laceration. Warmth pulsated against her skin in rhythm with the sharp throbbing of pain which consumed her.
Gasping, she looked up with blurred vision at the vampire. Someone else stood on the other side of the beast. A man? She blinked, trying to see through the fog that had descended on her brain. What was disorienting her? She didn't think she'd lost that much blood, not yet. Was it just the pain?
So the man, or whatever he was -- a human, at least, she hoped -- why was he there? Was he a savior, or a deviant bent on killing them both? Either way, she feared an unpleasant surprise awaited him in the vampire.
The vampire who had just turned to look at her.
What was in that hand? A rock?
As the vampire moved closer, Amira registered one thing: she was still alive. And that meant she had the chance to stay that way, slim as it was.
As the vampire's hand rose, Amira sprung to her feet, blinking against the reeling sensation that threatened to send her sprawling. Clutching her neck more closely, she ran; sluggishly, in comparison, but she hoped she could at least put some distance between herself and the vampire.
Her sheath slapped against her leg as she took off, and she almost smiled. Amira had a chance, and she intended to make the best of it.
She wasn't unused to pain; her flesh wasn't unscarred. Perhaps, though, that pain which brings death is somewhat more intense, more poignant because of the knowledge that it will be followed by a loss of all sensation, both pain and pleasure. Perhaps your body grasps as it as a last connection to the world, a last gasp of awareness before death.
Or perhaps the incision was simply the most painful experience Amira had ever suffered. It wasn't as though she had a basis for comparison.
Whatever the case, at that moment, she lost everything to the pain. It was her center, the one focus of her being; all other thoughts flew from her as if driven away, as if this sensation left room for nothing else. For a moment, she wasn't even aware of its cause. The puncturing of her skin, the digging of the vampire's incisors into her flesh -- none of this meant anything, not then. All she knew was pain. She was pain.
Something -- those ripping incisors -- had filled the wound before. Now it was empty, and its crimson ward was pouring forth.
As she slumped to the ground, her arms released, she instinctually jerked a hand to her neck, pressing her palm against the laceration. Warmth pulsated against her skin in rhythm with the sharp throbbing of pain which consumed her.
Gasping, she looked up with blurred vision at the vampire. Someone else stood on the other side of the beast. A man? She blinked, trying to see through the fog that had descended on her brain. What was disorienting her? She didn't think she'd lost that much blood, not yet. Was it just the pain?
So the man, or whatever he was -- a human, at least, she hoped -- why was he there? Was he a savior, or a deviant bent on killing them both? Either way, she feared an unpleasant surprise awaited him in the vampire.
The vampire who had just turned to look at her.
What was in that hand? A rock?
As the vampire moved closer, Amira registered one thing: she was still alive. And that meant she had the chance to stay that way, slim as it was.
As the vampire's hand rose, Amira sprung to her feet, blinking against the reeling sensation that threatened to send her sprawling. Clutching her neck more closely, she ran; sluggishly, in comparison, but she hoped she could at least put some distance between herself and the vampire.
Her sheath slapped against her leg as she took off, and she almost smiled. Amira had a chance, and she intended to make the best of it.
Last edited by Amira Lum on Sat Jun 30, 2007 11:47 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Valz Malar
- Citizen
- Posts: 94
- Joined: Mon Aug 07, 2006 5:03 am
- Race: Human
Valz’s arm rotated down, following through with his throw; recovering his footing, eyes following the rock. The creature’s hair rippled in slow motion, Valz could actually see the rock impact and fly off at an angle, he could hear the deep thudding of the impact. Somewhere deep inside him where he kept his humanity locked away he winced. In that half second of weakness the vampire had already seen him, picked up the rock, and advanced on the woman, prostrate below her. The woman’s hand clasping her neck, crimson drops falling from between her fingertips, staining her hand red, eyes rotated up, seeing the vampire approaching her. She began scrambling to her feet and Valz was able to see that she was armed.
His mind jumped ahead, trying to complete multiple scenarios and examine possibilities and outcomes depending on what he did next. Time. She needs time to get to her feet, to get away and get clear of this mess. Valz was the only one around who was going to be able to provide the time for her. The only way to do that was to distract the creature, to make it react to him instead of the creature reacting to the woman. The only way to do that would be to present more of a danger to the beast than the woman could, to make it more dangerous to leave him for later.
With purposeful, supremely confidant, measured steps Valz began closing the distance between them. Reaching up and unsheathing Animus, holding it at ease in front of his body, he spoke out,
“Whore-Beast! Know that I, Valz Malar, your death approaches. When the rays of the morning sun grace this deserted street they will find me resting easy on your lifeless, dismembered, charred corpse.”
It was more than he had said at one time in a long while. Over the top even, but he hoped to buy time. A head long rush would only succeed in getting himself killed quickly, so the steady advance would have to do. For now.
His mind jumped ahead, trying to complete multiple scenarios and examine possibilities and outcomes depending on what he did next. Time. She needs time to get to her feet, to get away and get clear of this mess. Valz was the only one around who was going to be able to provide the time for her. The only way to do that was to distract the creature, to make it react to him instead of the creature reacting to the woman. The only way to do that would be to present more of a danger to the beast than the woman could, to make it more dangerous to leave him for later.
With purposeful, supremely confidant, measured steps Valz began closing the distance between them. Reaching up and unsheathing Animus, holding it at ease in front of his body, he spoke out,
“Whore-Beast! Know that I, Valz Malar, your death approaches. When the rays of the morning sun grace this deserted street they will find me resting easy on your lifeless, dismembered, charred corpse.”
It was more than he had said at one time in a long while. Over the top even, but he hoped to buy time. A head long rush would only succeed in getting himself killed quickly, so the steady advance would have to do. For now.
The only dirty fight is the fight you lose...
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Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
Jenica would have pursued, but the male was making a display behind her, raising his hackled and twitching his plume to draw her attention away from the more vulnerable of the two. The vampire was not so easily distracted, especially after the woman's taunting - she remembered the pain. Oh yes, she remembered. Sliding into darkness in the woman's house, her stomach torn open. She had gorged in the days since, healed her body as it demanded until her stomach was a myriad of scars instead of open wounds.
But she would not forget that this female had hurt her, nearly killed her...but never had.
She had tasted the woman's sorrow on her tongue, her desperation and desire to live. The woman had given in to her death, but under protest. But she had accepted that she was to die.
A quick, easy death. Not what the vampire wanted - but the woman's words had hit home, drove in until she couldn't see straight and wanted to rend flesh. The words had distracted her from her goal of a long, drawn-out death...that this man had saved the girl from.
She owed him in this way. The thought amused her.
The vampire leaned, tilted her body so that she could see the male advancing toward her but keep the female in sight. The female did, after all, have a sword.
And the vampire did not.
"Valz...Malar."
The name fixed in her mind, etched permanently. She didn't know the female's name, didn't care to, but this posturing male...she wanted to remember him.
The shadows began to shift and slide, ever so slightly, in response to a building call within her. She shuttered her eyes, bloodshot as they were, and tightened her grip on the stone. She remembered how it had hurt, how even now her skull ached from the blow. She wondered if the male's brains were the dull gray she found so often.
Closer. A tad closer. Step into the the game...come play with me.
But she would not forget that this female had hurt her, nearly killed her...but never had.
She had tasted the woman's sorrow on her tongue, her desperation and desire to live. The woman had given in to her death, but under protest. But she had accepted that she was to die.
A quick, easy death. Not what the vampire wanted - but the woman's words had hit home, drove in until she couldn't see straight and wanted to rend flesh. The words had distracted her from her goal of a long, drawn-out death...that this man had saved the girl from.
She owed him in this way. The thought amused her.
The vampire leaned, tilted her body so that she could see the male advancing toward her but keep the female in sight. The female did, after all, have a sword.
And the vampire did not.
"Valz...Malar."
The name fixed in her mind, etched permanently. She didn't know the female's name, didn't care to, but this posturing male...she wanted to remember him.
The shadows began to shift and slide, ever so slightly, in response to a building call within her. She shuttered her eyes, bloodshot as they were, and tightened her grip on the stone. She remembered how it had hurt, how even now her skull ached from the blow. She wondered if the male's brains were the dull gray she found so often.
Closer. A tad closer. Step into the the game...come play with me.
She had meant to run further, out of the vampire's range of sight. After several feet, however, her knees buckled, and she dropped to them, trembling. As much as her hand slowed the flow of blood, she couldn't halt it, and she could feel her life oozing between her fingers. "Damnit!" she hissed, pressing harder. It would be awful to die of blood loss, now that she had the chance to escape the beast -- but what could she do? She was miles from home, or so she thought; she realized with horror that she had no idea where she was.
Idiot.
As she sat, trembling, she heard a somewhat familiar voice, but she couldn't concentrate on the words. Whatever he said, it was spoken with bravado, and she hoped the man wasn't underestimating the vampire -- for both their sakes, for if the beast killed this interloper, Amira knew she would be next.
As the vampire spoke, Amira turned her head to look at this Valz Malar, then winced as the blood flow, as well as the pain, revitalized with the movement. This wound would not easily heal, that much she knew. She heaved a breath in frustration. She wished she could draw her sword and strike the vampire down where it stood.
Unfortunate, then, that she couldn't even manage to pull herself to her feet.
Idiot.
As she sat, trembling, she heard a somewhat familiar voice, but she couldn't concentrate on the words. Whatever he said, it was spoken with bravado, and she hoped the man wasn't underestimating the vampire -- for both their sakes, for if the beast killed this interloper, Amira knew she would be next.
As the vampire spoke, Amira turned her head to look at this Valz Malar, then winced as the blood flow, as well as the pain, revitalized with the movement. This wound would not easily heal, that much she knew. She heaved a breath in frustration. She wished she could draw her sword and strike the vampire down where it stood.
Unfortunate, then, that she couldn't even manage to pull herself to her feet.
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Valz Malar
- Citizen
- Posts: 94
- Joined: Mon Aug 07, 2006 5:03 am
- Race: Human
Shit.
She didn’t make it far enough. Valz could clearly see the woman stumble away from the vampire, gain her momentum, take a few steps and crash to the street. Her body trembled, from fear, anger, frustration, he couldn’t tell, but there she was.
The vampire saw her as well. She still had the rock in her hand, as if that was the most powerful weapon she possessed. No matter, it was strong enough to kill the woman sprawled across the street. The deserted street, he noticed. Somehow he hadn’t realized how fast and far he’d gone. The street was a jumble of un-even paving stones. Ruined buildings, roofs collapsed in on themselves, if they even had roofs (or walls) lined the streets. What was once probably a broad plaza was now just an empty field, sparse weeds growing up through an inoperable fountain. Whatever was going to happen would have no witnesses and there would be no help. For better or worse it was him and the woman against the vampire.
Valz advanced, and moved sideways, carefully placing his feet to prevent tripping himself up, Animus held out at the ready in front of him. Instead of coming right at the vampire he attempted to move in a circle, squaring her off. If she responded like a human facing a threat she would rotate to maintain face-to-face contact with him, which, if she did, would end up placing himself between the woman and the vampire. It was bold because it would bring him nearer to the beast, but would allow him to shield the woman, hopefully allowing her to regain her feet.
These thoughts moved at lighting speeds through Valz’s mind. But all was blanked out when he heard the Shadows. It was clearer than he had heard before. The voices were distinct, however he couldn’t understand what they were saying in his head. He even paused as the shadows slipped and slid around the edges of his peripheral vision. Aware of their motion, he brought his eyes back up to meet the vampire, and continued his steady movement.
She didn’t make it far enough. Valz could clearly see the woman stumble away from the vampire, gain her momentum, take a few steps and crash to the street. Her body trembled, from fear, anger, frustration, he couldn’t tell, but there she was.
The vampire saw her as well. She still had the rock in her hand, as if that was the most powerful weapon she possessed. No matter, it was strong enough to kill the woman sprawled across the street. The deserted street, he noticed. Somehow he hadn’t realized how fast and far he’d gone. The street was a jumble of un-even paving stones. Ruined buildings, roofs collapsed in on themselves, if they even had roofs (or walls) lined the streets. What was once probably a broad plaza was now just an empty field, sparse weeds growing up through an inoperable fountain. Whatever was going to happen would have no witnesses and there would be no help. For better or worse it was him and the woman against the vampire.
Valz advanced, and moved sideways, carefully placing his feet to prevent tripping himself up, Animus held out at the ready in front of him. Instead of coming right at the vampire he attempted to move in a circle, squaring her off. If she responded like a human facing a threat she would rotate to maintain face-to-face contact with him, which, if she did, would end up placing himself between the woman and the vampire. It was bold because it would bring him nearer to the beast, but would allow him to shield the woman, hopefully allowing her to regain her feet.
These thoughts moved at lighting speeds through Valz’s mind. But all was blanked out when he heard the Shadows. It was clearer than he had heard before. The voices were distinct, however he couldn’t understand what they were saying in his head. He even paused as the shadows slipped and slid around the edges of his peripheral vision. Aware of their motion, he brought his eyes back up to meet the vampire, and continued his steady movement.
The only dirty fight is the fight you lose...
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Jenica Sabiny
- Citizen
- Posts: 768
- Joined: Sun Feb 05, 2006 2:29 am
- Race: Vampire
The vampire heard the female fall, could smell the burst of blood which continued leaking from the wound in her throat. It would be ironic if the female died without the vampire's intent behind it, but at least there was the solace of knowing that this problematic human would die.
No threat there. But the male was moving toward her. The vampire didn't care about his intentions or his weapon; he was maintaining distance because he was no fool. Some human would have followed his movements, allowed him to draw her into his game. But she was no human, and she hated to play by another's rules.
The whispering began again, the shadows writhing with glee as she called upon them to help. She did not attack this male; he would strike out instinctively at a threat. She did not follow his movements, either. Instead, she began mimicking his steps when his body came in line with hers, drawing her closer to the human female and refusing to allow him to place himself squarely between. If he continued to circle, he would bring himself closer to the vampire. If he mimicked her own steps, they would both come closer to the female lying helpless on the ground.
The vampire shuttered her eyes; she always enjoyed this one moment, when a new player had to choose their course and she could not predict what it would be. If the male forced her hand, she would respond - but she would not react with violence unless provoked. She killed for the sheer joy of the blood; she fought only for self-defense.
The shadows slithered and shifted but stilled themselves from movement. She cocked her head, waiting patient - a statue which would only move to mirror the male's own steps.
No threat there. But the male was moving toward her. The vampire didn't care about his intentions or his weapon; he was maintaining distance because he was no fool. Some human would have followed his movements, allowed him to draw her into his game. But she was no human, and she hated to play by another's rules.
The whispering began again, the shadows writhing with glee as she called upon them to help. She did not attack this male; he would strike out instinctively at a threat. She did not follow his movements, either. Instead, she began mimicking his steps when his body came in line with hers, drawing her closer to the human female and refusing to allow him to place himself squarely between. If he continued to circle, he would bring himself closer to the vampire. If he mimicked her own steps, they would both come closer to the female lying helpless on the ground.
The vampire shuttered her eyes; she always enjoyed this one moment, when a new player had to choose their course and she could not predict what it would be. If the male forced her hand, she would respond - but she would not react with violence unless provoked. She killed for the sheer joy of the blood; she fought only for self-defense.
The shadows slithered and shifted but stilled themselves from movement. She cocked her head, waiting patient - a statue which would only move to mirror the male's own steps.