I don't own twilight
Deep beneath the cobble grounds of Volterra darkness reined in the catacombs of the hidden castle of demons. In the wide passages of the damned, shadows clung to the rough stone walls like tar. No organism with a beating heart dare to scurry amongst the monsters. Dragging itself out of the shadows came a creature, a marble statue draped in midnight velvet. The creature ghosted down the halls, it's cloak sliding behind like black water.
Cloaks of midnight and ash avoided this creature seeking refuge in the dust and dark of long forgotten rooms. Salmon pink eyes cloudy by eons of stationary mourning gazed forward listlessly at the endlessly darkened halls. Lips lacking pigment from unsatisfactory feedings and a chalky pallor revealed ghosts of pessimistic emotions buried under apathy.
This monster of nightmares; a vampire, waded slowly, the torches it passed throwing eerie shadows across the walls and floors.
In the distance light reflected off an grand object. This object glorious and gold was obviously meant to brighten the ghostly passageways, but instead it served as somber reminder of what could have been.
This monster that lives off the blood of innocent mortals stopped abruptly staring at the grand object. A large frame outlined the portrait in intricate gold trimmings that glittered when it caught the light. The person painted far surpassed the beauty of even the painstakingly designed trimmings. She had high arching brows that were as dark as her raven hair. Adorned in a beautiful dress with jewelry bleeding off every extremity she smiled dazzling and wide showing straight ivory teeth.
Dark soft lashes framed painted obsidian eyes that not even the most gifted artist can bring life to.
A painting of a predator that held as much life of a stuffed tiger.
~0~
The appearance of the second creature was met with no sound. This creature, although smiling and moving, held the same ghostly appearance of the first hair rose from his scalp and fell framing an pale oval face, only to disappear into the coal black cloak.
"Marcus," it slithered. " You haunt these halls once more, what ails you?". A chalky hand was produced, not a vein in sight, offering.
Marcus lifted his equally bone white hand to halfway meet his brother's. Hands cupped around each others in a mockery of group prayer, silence fell like a curtain. High above a woman's last scream echoed of the stone walls as she met her red sticky death at the hands of a ruby-eyed twelve year old.
Marble slid off marble as the mock seance was broken.
"Ah, it's the anniversary," Aro whispered. His paper pale face arranged itself in a practiced mournful look
Stillness reigned once again as the brothers were lost in their own separate memories of the departed.
"The mortals of my youth once told that my sister and I resembled each other so greatly we were basically twins," Aro giggled, suddenly cheerful at the memory.
The woman's eyes seem to gleam in approval as the fire danced slowly in the wake of a breeze.
Curiosity creep like a shiver down Marcus's spine. The melancholy beast craned his neck to peer wearily at his hallway companion
Somewhere along the corridor water droplets fell steady upon the stone floors.
Alas the sibling resemblance was indeed present. Mirroring each other were their pale lips, wide foreheads, and oil black hair.
Although not similar was the ugly hunger for power that radiated off Aro. Didyme, not perfect, had morals than far exceeded her brother's.
"It feels good to remember," Aro sighed. "But, if your remember to much you can get stuck in the past brother," he smiled.
A pale hand fell on a unmoving shoulder, then slipped off.
Once again alone Marcus and the painting face each other in a annual stand-off.
Wow, this was the longest thing I ever wrote.
Please review I like criticism too.
Thanks for reading