My first Skulduggery Pleasant fan fiction ^-^
About my favourite bad guy who I'm hoping will return in later books….
Clues?
He is a vampire who appeared in the 2nd book and was cut by Sanguine's razor and imprisoned by the Irish council.
Lol, hope that helped.
Anyways, hope you like it.
Characters belong to Derek Landy. I gain nothing from this but amusement =D
The moonlight shone though the barred window, illuminating his cadaverous skin. His body screamed in agony, as it had been doing for however long he had been trapped here.
How long had he been locked up in the Sanctuary?
He imagined what everything would be like when he eventually escaped; if he eventually escaped. Dwelling on the thought made him realise that many of the criminals trapped within the vicinity of the Sanctuary had been there previous to the Great War. A flicker of doubt appeared about whether he would ever escape but he shook it off. It may take centuries but he had his whole death ahead of him and one day, no matter how far away that day may be, he would leave this dreaded place.
Observing his permanent abode, he tried to find something that would allow his immortality to pass with slight more amusement. Unfortunately, the council were not as generous as some would believe. The cell merely consisted of a thin, tattered mattress, a small toilet and an equally petit sink. The only additional items were a bar of soap, a toothbrush and a dusty, rusting mirror.
Stretching his legs, he stood up and smoothly walked towards the mirror. His movements were so gentle, it were as if he were not truly walking; instead gliding above the cobbled floor. On reaching the object, he picked it up with his good arm. It was at that point that he wished the rumours of vampires having no reflection were true.
He grimaced as he stared into the glass, his deep scar sliced down his cheek from the top of his eyebrow to his chin. He snarled thinking of how he had achieved the mark, reminiscing the razor cutting into his face. The scar was, however, only one of his many wounds. His lips were cracked and the mouth itself was covered in cuts and slits. His ivory coloured fangs peaked out, he noticed how white and clean they looked. If only a fresh coating of rich blood could smear the whiteness away.
His volatile nature leapt in, and he could no longer bare to witness his beaten and scarred face in the mirror. It were as if the glass itself were taunting him. With a forceful throw he sent it shattering against the thickly bricked wall.
Screaming in frustration he fell with an agonizing thud to the floor. Yet he did not wince as he heard both his kneecaps loudly crack. He had now become accustomed to pain; almost. At least he would have to become accustomed as he was stuck with his many injuries.
The torso hurt most. In the centre was the pale, bony, inhumane vampire part of him and surrounding that was the fleshy human skin that he had started to peel off when he had began to transform. His left hand was also in its vampiric state.
Yes, nowadays the fearsome Dusk was little more than a hideous mix of ripped bone and flesh.
And it was all her fault.
Valkyrie Cain had firstly scarred his face ; a sin which he would not forgive.
As if the mark had not been enough, she had also trapped him in this beastly form and imprisoned him.
He had never been what you would call a gregarious person. He had an unpredictable personality, that was mainly concocted from negative emotions. His anger and wrath were by far his most popular.
Just thinking about her infuriated him. How had he been defeated by someone so young and wreckless? She had only been 13 years old, he smelt it in her blood. He wondered how old she was now. His thoughts drifting, imagining her as a young, mature woman.
Realising that he was creating a fantasy of her in his head he hissed and shuddered. She was unlike any other woman, he loathed her.
Throughout the centuries of his life he had mated with many females. There had been several different types of relationships during both his life and his living death. More recently he had made women into a game. He used to inject himself with around a quarter of his serum, keeping him from turning into his carnivorous form for an hour or two of the night. During this time he would entertain his female vehemently until that point in the early hours when the effects wore off and he transformed, vigorously ripping the mortal apart.
But he hadn't hated, loathed and despised them; they were a mere pass time. His veins surged with hate for Valkyrie. His mind conjured gruesome plans to make her pay. His fists clenched; every ounce of his body shook uncontrollably as he remembered her.
Another scream erupted from his lungs and echoed throughout the vacuous prison.
" You can't trap me here forever! I know I will escape! And when I do Valkyrie Cain you'd better watch your neck! I will control you! You will be my infected!"
What do you think? I'm not sure whether to just leave it as a short story or keep it going and turn it in to a crazy twisted shizz :P
Please review and tell me what you thought and say whether I should keep it short and sweet or continue =]
Thanx.
Ruby Rage Xx