This is my first Fanfic, tell me what you think. Rated T for now. Constructive criticism would be great. So read and review!
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does.
SAVE ME
PROLOGUE
He stalked through the night, the darkness shrouding him in shadows, his footsteps barely touching the mossy earth below. He roamed through the forest, searching with his blood red eyes, but all he could see were millions of trees surrounding him. The old tattered clothes he wore snagged on bare branches, leaving ripped holes in them. There were no shoes on his feet as he trudged on, but none of the sharp sticks and stones seemed to hurt his soles. The wind suddenly seemed to pick up and the skies opened above, rain started to shower over the woodland. He quickened his pace, trying carefully not to lose the tracks. The sent was growing stronger.
The trees moaned in protest as the wind battered against their trunks. An owl hooted in the gloomy depths of the forest, probably trying to seek refuge from the thunderstorm brewing. The sent was growing much stronger now and the tracks were fresh. He steadied his gaze as it fell upon a clearing. He could make out the glowing embers of a fire and stealthily made his way towards it.
He climbed up into the canopy of the trees to get a birds-eye-view of the scene below him. A tent was pitched up, near the campfire and a loud snoring could be heard from within. His eyes glazed over with hunger and thirst as he crept closer to the tent. He unzipped the door in one quick stroke and slid inside. The human still had not awakened from its deep slumber and had no clue of the threat it was in.
As he towered over his helpless victim and reached forward with his claw like hands, a loud snarl ripped from his throat. The human jolted awake, only to find himself in a vice-locked-death-grip. He struggled and whimpered, trying to free himself, but his captor's grip just got tighter. The screams coming from him grew louder, as two razor-sharp knifes were suddenly impaled in his neck. With his last few breaths, he yelled out for help. But it was pointless. No one would answer. No one would know of how he died, of what happened that fearful night.
As the life was slowing fading from the man's eyes, his own turned dark. He gripped the mortal's body closer to his mouth as he drank its blood greedily. A moan emitted deep from within his chest as he savored the sweet tasting wine. Once the human was bone dry, he left the corpse inside the tent and stepped outside. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket and ran a hand through his strangely disheveled bronze coloured hair, smirking. The thunderstorm still raged as he let out a cruel laugh and he disappeared into the night, his ghostly cackle echoing throughout the forest.
Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled.