Blood lust (unfinished)
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Blood Lust
“And as the lights all went out, we watched our lives on the screen. I hate the ending myself, but it started with an alright scene.”
Preview
Alexander..." the word was barely above a mere whisper. My arms instantly entwined around his slender waist. Cold, but soft. It was all I could do to prevent my childish stumbling from occurring, from making me look....too...Well...Human. Alexander's warm, intoxicating breathe sent shivers throughout my body, melting all uncertainty and stiffness. The feel of his teeth sliding seductively down my jaw, while his soft kisses found my skin was mesmerizing. His scent was too sweet to be cherry blossoms, or even lavender. It was his own. The beautiful fragrance that could only be found with Alexander. All too soon, he stopped. My face was cradled between his hands, and he was gazing into my eyes, into my very soul. My soul was meaningless, his was my world.
"Too dangerous" Alexander murmured voice velvety.
Prepare, Beware
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Arianne Felisarta Mina Yang
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ The Story_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Chapter 1: Dead Or Alive
T
here I was, sitting in my desk fidgeting every once in a while, silently begging the clock to hurry up. It seemed like if I continued to silently curse it, the slower it would run. That didn’t mean I’d stop, I refuse to surrender to the infinite torture of time. The light shone through the barred windows of the classroom, gave the feeling of a prison. But isn’t that what school was, a prison? The only way to escape is to have an injury, severe sickness, or the cell guards give their okay to leave. I bet if they didn’t have to stay with us, they’d choose to keep us there forever. And we all know that forever is such a long time.
Who are you? I do not know. Who am I? I’m a black haired, unnaturally pale skinned, dark brown eyed, and last that I checked, girl. But that doesn’t really reveal who I am. Am I nice (probably not), am I optimistic (you wish), or maybe I’m just a dog-gone good person to be around (hahahaha, you can never be more wrong). For God’s sake, I’ve been asked that question a million times, and I still lack an answer. I just leave the inquisitor with a short, “What do you think I am.” This is really a bad choice of words for this kind of question. I’m now left with “Freak, wannabe, weirdo, strange, and others I don’t think I should mention. I’m afraid that if anyone ever tried to unravel the mysteries of my mind, they’d probably go insane. I have to admit, I’m half way there. I roughly sketched a drawing of a collage of random items that came to mind. I tried to ignore the lesson, but it seemed like the teacher spoke louder to gain my attention.
Mr. Cornelius, my ancient science teacher, droned on and on about prophase and anaphase, it was the same speech I had heard since 7th grade. His silvery hair and crescent shaped spectacles caught just a beam of sunshine, making him cower back into the shadows of the class. Was he tired from always staying awake to teach the Day and the Night Class? Ignoring our questioning expressions, Mr. Cornelius cleared his throat, resuming his irrelevant lecture. I could have taught the subject by heart, in fact, part of me wanted to. To show the world that I wasn’t some empty porcelain doll; I knew that would never happen, though. It was my third year in high school, and already it felt like an eternity surrounded by the mutual feeling of hostility between me and everyone here. Well, not everybody.
“Hey Scarly, finally decide to come out of your cave? You didn’t have to come back. You know how unwanted you are.”
“Not as unwanted as you ‘Gee’. And why would I want to come back to you five days a week?” I picked up my books just as the bell rang, and walked off, leaving Gerard Williams speechless and annoyed. He was a brunette with vicious green eyes. He was always prim and proper. You could say that he was “alright” if you didn’t know him and he never opened his mouth (which he never could do after 3 minutes). The fact that his parents were major financial donors added to his popularity. I guess the students here never learned to look past his looks, into that very rotten soul of his. I was the only one he couldn’t control with looks or money. There isn’t much to expect from a couple of cliché high school students. Our (their) town was small and talk goes around. Because of Gerard, I never needed to look up “airhead” to know what it meant. I guess I was equally annoying to him as he was to me, being enemies since 5th grade when he pushed over some girl and I was the only one who stood up to him. That girl turned out to be Madeline.
“Scarlette! Wait up!” Madeline, or Maddie as she preferred, raced down the hallway, stumbling over the weight of her backpack. She had just come back from the principal’s office, her mother had been addressing all the rules that she labeled as “nonsense”. Mrs. Thurston and my own mother would always team up against the school, they weren’t afraid of voicing their opinions; no matter how “silly” they seemed to be. Madeline happily skipped to my side. “Have you seen the posters? We’re finally having some kind of social gathering with the night class. You are going, aren’t you?” Maddie always fell head over heels whenever the Night Class made their humble appearances. I didn’t want to go to any social events, especially when the other kids weren’t being social to anyone that they consider “too low.” I’m thinking I’m somewhere between “No chance” and “Lowest of Low.” I was ready to complain any second, but I could already feel Maddie’s eyes scanning my expression. Maddie knew me well, too well.
I looked at her, giving a faint smile. I tried my best to look apologetic, but by the looks the passerby’s were giving, my tries were in vain. “Maddie….I don’t….”
She gave me a pleading look, knowing that I’d be asking myself: What kind of a friend would I be if I didn’t support her?
I held up my hands in a sarcastic defeat, “Fine, but you owe me. No dress” Maddie cracked a wicked smile; she’d force me into a dress, dead or alive.
The walk to my house had been peaceful, with Maddie’s excitement and the best false enthusiasm as I can muster up. It seemed like the whole city had gone stiff. Their usual “bubblyness” had been put on pause. It was all unusual, but not as much as what we saw.
“Scarlette, do you see that?”
My eyes were already resting on the Catrice house, or maybe mansion is a suitable name to call the old Victorian place. The iron fence had intricate designs of roses and leaves, each intertwining with the other. The mansion was built with a majority of bricks, with vines climbing up the side of it, reaching for the unknown, giving it an abandoned but charming appearance. The way the light from the sun shone on the building, peeking only an eye out from behind the clouds seemed to invite me in. Wanting me to come closer and closer as it mimicked the sound of my heartbeat. It seemed that my heart jumped from my chest, to my neck, throbbing uncontrollably. The Mansion beckoned me into its arms, whispering every secret it knew, whispering my almost unattainable desire to explore the uninhabited. It was guiding my way. I was always so very fond of mysterious and danger, it knew, it teased.
“What do you think they are doing?” Maddie whispered clutching my wrist as if ready to protect me at all cost. I knew she didn’t have the strength to do so if the time came, though. She knew that life was too precious, maybe that’s why I’m foolish. I didn’t know, or even care, about life’s values. I would have flung myself in front of a moving van to protect her; we already stood against a prepubescent Gerard. There isn’t much difference; a van can kill you with its force, Gerard can kill with his face.
It wasn’t hard to figure out what the people were doing. By the boxes and moving van, it’s a safe guess to say that they’re moving someone in. But the real question was, who? The faces of the moving men were hidden by the numerous objects they carried into the mansion. Who? The word bounced around my head, bringing a sharp pain that hit the very center of my forehead. The banging wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t give up until it came out of my mouth. Who? Who? Who?
Maddie tugged on my arm, gently pulling me towards my house, a mere two blocks away. It seemed too far, too impossible. I shot one last glance towards the building, squinting from the sun’s blinding rays. I swear to it, on my deathbed, there was a shadow. No, not a shadow, but a figure. A figure looking down from the heavens it seemed, but in truth a window. The window, half of which revealed a stained glass rose, was the only thing separating the angel from the rest of the world, and me. It was shining with its own mysterious light; it had no need for the sun. Even just a faint view of it, was fulfilling, sending a warm shiver throughout my body. My fingertips were reaching up, towards the figure, the knowing that I can’t reach out and touch it was depressing. The feeling that I could somehow comfort it, to ease the sorrow emanating around it and the somber house, hurt more than having thousands of knives and pens striking me repeatedly. I wanted to stand there longer, peering up at the beautiful creature “Let’s go.” Urged Maddie tugging harder towards my too plain house. A sight for sore eyes.
Chapter 2: Not Good Enough For Truth
S
chool was, well, school. There isn’t ever much to say about it, it’s just there. Existing but almost never taken seriously. At least that’s what it seems like these days when everyone is just there for friends and one night stands. My mother had once told me that education is above everything. After I asked her why she dropped out of college for dad, she never repeated that phrase ever again. I didn’t mean to humiliate her; I was just an inquisitive child. Why did I hurt so many people? I was in a way, like Gerard, but his wasn’t taken seriously. Why was I?
“Night Class! He’s in the night class. Of course the new kid.” Charlene Maxx spoke in a whisper that was loud enough for everyone to hear. As she said this, she twisted her hair, giving a sly grin as the words slipped out of her lipsticked lips. “Of course I’ll ask him to the dance, he’s hot…… Yeah, I’m sure of it.” Charlene responded to the phone, almost yelling across the whole school. God, a boy.
“Opps, I’m so sorry.” Charlene apologized, bumping into my shoulder as she passed. I was easily aggravated; she knew that and used it to her advantage. I’m not sure why, but since the dawn of time, she and I despised each other. Like Spiderman and the Green Goblin. I was pretty sure I was the Green Goblin to just about everyone in this whole school, even the notorious Night Class. While they frolicked across the halls, girls would make a fool of themselves to get to them. The Night Class would give smiles and seemingly polite gestures, but they would just questioningly glance at me, then walk away. Quickly. I didn’t really care about anyone’s thoughts about me, much less theirs. It goes in one ear, right out the other. They’d love to see me fall, but I’m already on my back. I laughed, recognizing the song that would be perfect for high school.
Schools ended five minutes ago, and still no Maddie. She’d regularly run to me right after school, and I’ve got to admit, worry engulfed every other sense. The silence was uncomfortable when waiting for my only companion I have. Like on queue, my cell phone vibrated in my back pocket.
From: Maddie
To: Scarlette
Hey Scarlette. Meet me in the History room, now. I have to show you something.
I raced through the halls, looking down towards the white tiles, feeling the air whip up my hair. The sound of my black high top converse hitting the floor echoed throughout the hallway, my own little alert screaming: Scarlette’s coming. Move away.
“Maddie? Are you in here?” The dark history was filled with artifacts Ms. Wright “collected” throughout her years. I was always so sure that she didn’t really collect a Roman Gladiator helmet, but bought a replica at some cheap retail store. She always denied this, giving me a small smile, probably thinking that she knows something I don’t. I hated that feeling, almost as bad as the feeling as being in a room where your friend is supposed to be, but isn’t. “Hello?”
Suddenly the door slammed behind me, pushing me onto the floor. Cold. Hard. I struggled, pounding on the door, crying out. Cries in vain. My arms lost their drive to keep pounding, my head, to keep conscious. I was wasting energy, time I would never get back. Why was everything becoming blurry Micah? Micah, the shadow beside my windowsill. I missed him, I was not insane, they were. They chased him away, he never came back. Monsters. Human beings were all monsters, all based on destruction. Taking away and never giving back unless there was something to gain. Madeline? Where are you? Did you leave me too? Take away my sanity; I don’t need it if you’re gone. The ceiling doubled. Tripled. The dark became darker, the pain became sharper, the world drifted father and farther away, slipping away from my freezing numb fingers. I tried once more to grab hold of reality, but missed. The moonlight shone down on me, pitying me. I didn’t need its pity, I needed… What did I need? I need… The world disappeared, leaving my life in a somber hole. No warmth, no hope.
My eyes fluttered open at the sound of running water. A leak? No, probably a sink. Did they always have sinks in history rooms? History Room? Why am I in the History Room?
A faint grunt escaped my throat as I tried to stand up. Pain. All I felt was pain.
My name is Morgan La Fey and I am fifty thousand years old. I utterly despise Merlin. I love eating small children and playing with my warts.