Nosferatu {Me and You}
Prologue, Scarlett With No Pure White
Author's Notes: Only one question that describes the whole fic. What if Kasumi wasn't the oldest child? Pretty dark in my opinion.
Disclaimers: Ranma 1/2 and all it's characters and affiliates belong to Rumiko Takahashi. Fallen Angels Belong to Aerosmith.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There's a candle burning
In the world tonight
For another child
Who vanished out of sight
And a heart is broken
Another prayer in vain
There's a million tears
That'll fill a sea of pain
Sometimes I stare out my window
My thoughts all drift into space
Sometimes I wonder if there's a better place
Tell me
Where do fallen angels go?
I just don't know (I just don't know)
Where do fallen angels go?
They keep falling (They keep falling)
Well, the times is frightening
Can't ignore the facts
There's so many people
Just slippin' through the cracks
So many ashes are scattered
So many rivers run dry
Sometimes your Heaven is Hell
And you don't know why
So, listen
Falling, falling, falling
Can you hear me?
Can you hear me?
Somewhere out there
There's a shining light
And I got to be with you tonight
And with all we're nowhere
We still pay the price
Yeah the Devil seems to get his way
In downtown paradise
There's a candle burning
La, la, la...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Little scenes fade in and out...the haunted laughter of children fading fast...dreams?...memories?
Whatever they are...they leave goosebumps up your spine...
theydon'tunderstandtheydon'tunderstandtheydon'tunderstand
the woman stood nervously next to a white picket fence. Art. Gardens of herbs surrounded her and a rolling sea could be heard and smelled far off. Her skin was a pure white. Snow White. Her hair was a pure white also. Old. Her hands shook violently under the white dress she wore. White. All white. The only color on her were the dark orbs of her eyes. No white in her eyes...no pupils. Just two, oval, black shapes. She waited one second. Two.
suddenly, it was there. A small dark shape, tall to her hip. It's form shook and shimmered every now and then. It's form wasn't comftorable with this world and it's atmosphere. In it's dark, claw arms was a lifeless baby, not dead for it was never alive.
'where is it? where is it?' the white being asked viciously, swiping it's old hands. The woman's mouth was pale and the sharp, yellow dog teeth could be seen, it's saliva practically dripping.
'here' the demon held up the lifeless baby, but when the woman reached for it, the demon held it away.
'the price, my lady' it said as it wagged it's finger/claw.
the woman gave a hiss at the minor demon before using one of her clawlike nails to rake lightly across her thin wrist and draw blood. She let the blood drip down onto the little baby as she whispered, "My life for you. I give my soul. You bring me yours. For this, I give my soul, my being, my consciousness."
the demon gave a cackled laugh as the little baby in it's arms began to writhe and scream.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
thelovebetweenmeandyouthelovebetweenmeandyou
the happy father ushered his three children into the white hospital room where his wife laid, sleeping baby in her arms. The two younger girls gushed over the new baby. But the oldest boy...he said nothing and just crawled onto the bed. The mother's face ashens and she hugs her baby closer.
the boy smiles as he looks over the baby. A smile of triumph. A smile of recognition. A smile of hatred. A smile of pain.
he reaches a small hand out and touches the baby's forehead.
the woman clutches her baby closer and screeches. Long, long screeches as she thrashes. Men and women in white suits entered. Doctors and nurses probably. They enter and they hold the woman down. Prying the baby from her arms as they push a sedative into her.
and though the room was white
all you could see was blood
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
we'llbealrightwe'llbealrightwe'llbealrightwe'llbealright
the same little boy as before. Only older. Probably around six years. In a Chinese garden of some sort with a koi pond. He's holding hands with a little toddler in a pink, wool jumper and white shirt. Probably only one or two years old, barely able to walk. Her fist is in her mouth and gurgling sounds come out as spit drip down from a tiny mouth.
strange. Boys his age aren't really babysitters, but he seems to be actually enjoying watching over the little girl. They walk a short distance before the girl falls. Not surprising with the penguin way she's been walking.
her face full of mud and dirt along with tears, the girl sobbed. But showing a patience beyond his years, the boy picked her up and held her on his side. One foot in the front, one in the back.
'shhhhh, don't cry anymore, we're almost there,' and surprisingly, the girl stopped crying.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
juststaywithmejuststywithmejuststaywithmejuststaywithme
it's dark in the house. And it feels of death. Mourners come and go and there are always sobbing sounds.
the husband crying as he clutches a white dress that his wife had loved to wear
the children sitting in a circle in the dojo where their mother used to practice. The oldest girl, the middle girl, the boy, and the youngest of them all sleeping in the little boy's lap.
they all hold hands in the dim light as outside winds howled and banged against the locked doors and windows.
the middle daughter started to cry again and both sisters clutched the boy's hand even tighter as the oldest girl start to shake
'don't let them in here' the oldest girl begged.
'what about mother?' the middle child cried.
'she's not our mother anymore' the boy whispered.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
don't leavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleave
a yard now. A front yard and the whole family is there.
the father. Who's face is stern and hard.
the oldest sister. Who's face is streaked with tears and pain.
the middle sister. Who's face is not unlike her older sister.
the youngest. Who's clutching the boy tight.
the boy. Who looking down at the youngest, his face is one of a man going to his death.
and another. A tall, burly man that was born to kill, traiedn to kill, and lived to kill.
they had said their good-byes. It was time for the boy to go.
'no! you can't leave me, i'd die' the youngest girl sobbed and from the terror and pain in her voice, one would think that she actually would.
the boy's face as he pried her from him was that of a man cutting off half of his body and half of his soul
'sorry, red, but i have to go unless...' he looked to his father but the man just shook his head.
'i have to go, red, don't forget me and remember, me and father are the only two guys that really love you for who you are. The rest can't love you," and with that he walked next to the burly looking man and they disappeared.
good-bye
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
hecouldneverloveyouhecouldneverloveyouhecouldneverloveyou
we move in on a scene now. A group of kids. Teenagers really. They're chasing after a boy with a pig-tail. With the way he's moving, he seems to be a martial artist. And wait, was that- yes it was. It was the youngest daughter all grown up now...and very beautiful with short, blue-cropped hair and large brown eyes. She seems to be chasing after the boy also.
water splashes. It seems the boy was really a girl after all. And the people continue to chase after him. But when it was all stripped down to the very essence of life.
the boy's color was black.
so
red
white
and
black
they are the ties that hold.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's Notes: Okay, so I flattered myself. It's not *that* dark but to me it was. Why does it seem as if I'm not getting any mail? Except for May, of course, who e-mail me everytime I update. ^_^ C'mon, people, I'm just like any other writer, I love feedback! Tell, oh, do tell. :)
Prologue, Scarlett With No Pure White
Author's Notes: Only one question that describes the whole fic. What if Kasumi wasn't the oldest child? Pretty dark in my opinion.
Disclaimers: Ranma 1/2 and all it's characters and affiliates belong to Rumiko Takahashi. Fallen Angels Belong to Aerosmith.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There's a candle burning
In the world tonight
For another child
Who vanished out of sight
And a heart is broken
Another prayer in vain
There's a million tears
That'll fill a sea of pain
Sometimes I stare out my window
My thoughts all drift into space
Sometimes I wonder if there's a better place
Tell me
Where do fallen angels go?
I just don't know (I just don't know)
Where do fallen angels go?
They keep falling (They keep falling)
Well, the times is frightening
Can't ignore the facts
There's so many people
Just slippin' through the cracks
So many ashes are scattered
So many rivers run dry
Sometimes your Heaven is Hell
And you don't know why
So, listen
Falling, falling, falling
Can you hear me?
Can you hear me?
Somewhere out there
There's a shining light
And I got to be with you tonight
And with all we're nowhere
We still pay the price
Yeah the Devil seems to get his way
In downtown paradise
There's a candle burning
La, la, la...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Little scenes fade in and out...the haunted laughter of children fading fast...dreams?...memories?
Whatever they are...they leave goosebumps up your spine...
theydon'tunderstandtheydon'tunderstandtheydon'tunderstand
the woman stood nervously next to a white picket fence. Art. Gardens of herbs surrounded her and a rolling sea could be heard and smelled far off. Her skin was a pure white. Snow White. Her hair was a pure white also. Old. Her hands shook violently under the white dress she wore. White. All white. The only color on her were the dark orbs of her eyes. No white in her eyes...no pupils. Just two, oval, black shapes. She waited one second. Two.
suddenly, it was there. A small dark shape, tall to her hip. It's form shook and shimmered every now and then. It's form wasn't comftorable with this world and it's atmosphere. In it's dark, claw arms was a lifeless baby, not dead for it was never alive.
'where is it? where is it?' the white being asked viciously, swiping it's old hands. The woman's mouth was pale and the sharp, yellow dog teeth could be seen, it's saliva practically dripping.
'here' the demon held up the lifeless baby, but when the woman reached for it, the demon held it away.
'the price, my lady' it said as it wagged it's finger/claw.
the woman gave a hiss at the minor demon before using one of her clawlike nails to rake lightly across her thin wrist and draw blood. She let the blood drip down onto the little baby as she whispered, "My life for you. I give my soul. You bring me yours. For this, I give my soul, my being, my consciousness."
the demon gave a cackled laugh as the little baby in it's arms began to writhe and scream.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
thelovebetweenmeandyouthelovebetweenmeandyou
the happy father ushered his three children into the white hospital room where his wife laid, sleeping baby in her arms. The two younger girls gushed over the new baby. But the oldest boy...he said nothing and just crawled onto the bed. The mother's face ashens and she hugs her baby closer.
the boy smiles as he looks over the baby. A smile of triumph. A smile of recognition. A smile of hatred. A smile of pain.
he reaches a small hand out and touches the baby's forehead.
the woman clutches her baby closer and screeches. Long, long screeches as she thrashes. Men and women in white suits entered. Doctors and nurses probably. They enter and they hold the woman down. Prying the baby from her arms as they push a sedative into her.
and though the room was white
all you could see was blood
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
we'llbealrightwe'llbealrightwe'llbealrightwe'llbealright
the same little boy as before. Only older. Probably around six years. In a Chinese garden of some sort with a koi pond. He's holding hands with a little toddler in a pink, wool jumper and white shirt. Probably only one or two years old, barely able to walk. Her fist is in her mouth and gurgling sounds come out as spit drip down from a tiny mouth.
strange. Boys his age aren't really babysitters, but he seems to be actually enjoying watching over the little girl. They walk a short distance before the girl falls. Not surprising with the penguin way she's been walking.
her face full of mud and dirt along with tears, the girl sobbed. But showing a patience beyond his years, the boy picked her up and held her on his side. One foot in the front, one in the back.
'shhhhh, don't cry anymore, we're almost there,' and surprisingly, the girl stopped crying.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
juststaywithmejuststywithmejuststaywithmejuststaywithme
it's dark in the house. And it feels of death. Mourners come and go and there are always sobbing sounds.
the husband crying as he clutches a white dress that his wife had loved to wear
the children sitting in a circle in the dojo where their mother used to practice. The oldest girl, the middle girl, the boy, and the youngest of them all sleeping in the little boy's lap.
they all hold hands in the dim light as outside winds howled and banged against the locked doors and windows.
the middle daughter started to cry again and both sisters clutched the boy's hand even tighter as the oldest girl start to shake
'don't let them in here' the oldest girl begged.
'what about mother?' the middle child cried.
'she's not our mother anymore' the boy whispered.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
don't leavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleave
a yard now. A front yard and the whole family is there.
the father. Who's face is stern and hard.
the oldest sister. Who's face is streaked with tears and pain.
the middle sister. Who's face is not unlike her older sister.
the youngest. Who's clutching the boy tight.
the boy. Who looking down at the youngest, his face is one of a man going to his death.
and another. A tall, burly man that was born to kill, traiedn to kill, and lived to kill.
they had said their good-byes. It was time for the boy to go.
'no! you can't leave me, i'd die' the youngest girl sobbed and from the terror and pain in her voice, one would think that she actually would.
the boy's face as he pried her from him was that of a man cutting off half of his body and half of his soul
'sorry, red, but i have to go unless...' he looked to his father but the man just shook his head.
'i have to go, red, don't forget me and remember, me and father are the only two guys that really love you for who you are. The rest can't love you," and with that he walked next to the burly looking man and they disappeared.
good-bye
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
hecouldneverloveyouhecouldneverloveyouhecouldneverloveyou
we move in on a scene now. A group of kids. Teenagers really. They're chasing after a boy with a pig-tail. With the way he's moving, he seems to be a martial artist. And wait, was that- yes it was. It was the youngest daughter all grown up now...and very beautiful with short, blue-cropped hair and large brown eyes. She seems to be chasing after the boy also.
water splashes. It seems the boy was really a girl after all. And the people continue to chase after him. But when it was all stripped down to the very essence of life.
the boy's color was black.
so
red
white
and
black
they are the ties that hold.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's Notes: Okay, so I flattered myself. It's not *that* dark but to me it was. Why does it seem as if I'm not getting any mail? Except for May, of course, who e-mail me everytime I update. ^_^ C'mon, people, I'm just like any other writer, I love feedback! Tell, oh, do tell. :)