Title: Fangs of Blood

Summary/Plot: Unnecessary to read, for it will be retold in the book, but here's the gist of it:

The unnaturally haired girl, Kagome, lives in the world that was saved by the hero from centuries ago, and it's not the only world out there. There is an alternate world, the one where the world wasn't saved, years ago in an epic battle. Years, centuries ago, the world was plagued by a powerful, evil demon that was destroying the world and raising lesser demons to destroy those in its way, leveling mountains, cities, towns, homes, anything that stood above him, even the humans that inhabited such structures.

Thus, Kagome reads the story in her class, one day at school. She lives in the world that was saved by the hero, and after school, as she leaves to go home, she is surprised when her copy of the book has a small dark green stone inside on the of the pages, the one where it says that the hero transports himself to the alternate world.

When she picks it up, she unknowingly taps into the power it holds, even if it is only a little, and is suddenly teleported to the alternate world, which to her, had only existed in the black text of her book, named Aviate.

And so, Kagome begins her task of saving the world with the help of her new friends...

Genre: Fantasy, Action/Adventure, Romance, and Fiction.

Rating: M, just to be safe.

And so... Let us begin this epic adventure!

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Fangs of Blood

Kickoff!

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Dead. She was dead, and it was his entire fault.

If he hadn't been so confident, so full of himself, so sure that he would win a losing battle, he could have saved her. She could have lived and been by his side for the rest of their lives, but she was dead, and he had killed her, albeit it was indirectly, she was still dead because of it, and it was still his fault for letting it happen. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, wouldn't do anything except stare dumbly numb and frozen at the body in his slowly weakening arms, the body of who he had tried so desperately to save, but failed. She was dead.

His head was lowered in shame, the shadows cast by his bangs shielding his closing eyes as he tried to breathe, tried to talk around the lump that had formed in his throat, tried to ignore the stinging in his eyes, the way it felt as though his heart was clenching painfully, the way his stomach felt like a large lump of ice had dropped down inside of it, and tried to speak. His mouth was open, his voice was working, but it felt as though he was being choked, strangled, by an invisible force called grief and regret.

Through the silver white bangs cascading down in front of his golden amber eyes, he saw the form of the girl he loved, cold as ice, pale as the moon, her once pretty unblemished face marred by crimson blood and cuts and scratches from the attack she had taken, just to protect him, just for him, just... because it was the way she was thinking at the time. The only way she saw first and had taken it without exploring the other options she had.

She lay limp in his arms like a worn-out rag doll. What had he done? Why wasn't he there? And, the worst question that had formed in his slowly working mind: Why couldn't he cry? There was an empty, hollow feeling inside of him, and he wanted to cry, to shed tears for the girl who had died, because that was all he could do. Cry and hope his tears were worthy enough to bring her back.

But he couldn't. His eyes stung, meaning he was about to cry, but they were as dry and empty as a bone-dry well, like he had already shed all the tears he could. But a single drop of water had yet to surface in his eyes and fall. Why wasn't he crying? Wasn't she even precious enough to him to allow him to shed the tears that were inside?

He blinked a few times, seeing if it would change anything, but his eyes remained traitorous, refusing to give him what he wanted. Years of experience had told him, crying was for the weak. Tears were hated. To be strong, not a single tear was to be shed for anything. And he supposed his body was obeying that rule, even though he so desperately wanted the opposite of it.

Even though the blood on his fingers, on his hands and arms, and on his chest was warm from her body, it felt like ice water against him, drenching the whole front of his red haori in dark red liquid, chilling him to the bone. His bottom lip trembled with regret as he fought against the urge to scream and shout and throw a tantrum at the unfairness of it all, until the eyes of the girl in his arms opened and he told him to shut his face so she could sleep, but he couldn't make a sound. He couldn't even say her name, even though he so desperately wanted to whisper her name upon his lips.

Then all of a sudden, he hated her. The feeling of hate overwhelmed him, and he directed it to her. Her and stupidity. The lump was clearing in his throat, as he fought it, willing himself to scream in frustration. He hated her. Hated, hated, and hated the fact she was stupid enough to risk her own welfare for his, to sacrifice her life for his, just stupid enough to die.

Stupid, stupid, stupid girl that had loved him and taught him things he had never known before, and made him feel wanted, and made him feel things he had never known before... And then his hate broke and he hated himself. He could never hate her, for being herself and doing what he would have done if it was the other way.

He hated, hated, and hated himself. He was stupid, rushing away from her that one moment, allowing this to happen. He hated and hated himself and everything around him except her, hated the trees for they were shifting happily in the breeze, leaves dancing in ignorant bliss, everything, even the sun that was shining above.

"Why... did you die...?" he ground out through clenched teeth, and he vaguely realized he was gritting his teeth. Why couldn't he have saved her? A feeling of helplessness surfaced through the hate, followed closely by that of frustration. Why, why, why? He couldn't cry, couldn't avenge her, and couldn't do anything to help ease his grief, regret, or bring her back or anything.

So what was he supposed to do? He felt so hollow, so drained, and he wanted to sleep, lie down and never get back up again. But she would have never wanted him to do that. His head sunk even lower at the thought of her and at the loss he was facing, from her death and what he was supposed to do now.

He lowered himself to one knee, his right, and set the body back to the floor, her silky raven hair fanning out behind her body, her bangs separating to show her closed eyes and long lashes, back to the laying position it was in before he had picked her up, before he scooped up the crystals nearby that were laying at his feet, and spread them out on the palm of his right hand, before his brow knitted in determination and thought.

Then he looked at the hilt of the blade that was protruding out of her stomach, and the blood still flowing out of it. He glanced at the face of his love, and his jaw tightened as he clenched his hand into a fist, the edges of the jewels feeling awkward and poking him in the flesh of his palm.

"I will find you," he whispered shakily, grim determination setting his mouth into a fine life as he gritted out through clenched teeth, "and I will save you." He crushed the stones in his hand, turning them into dust as the ache settled in his heart, a ray of hope shining through his despair, grief, and regret. Before he soaked in it too along, he squashed the feeling, not allowing him to be too dependant on the new solution to his predicament.

There were still some flaws in his plan, and he didn't want to get too hopeful once more only to have it thrown back in his face again. There was no turning back. He gave her a chaste kiss upon her lips, and in a flash of green, sparkling light that seemed to reach and branch out in all directions, he used what was left of the power, and having just barely enough to transport himself to the other world, he did, and went to the alternate world, where he would had a second chance to save his love from the clutches of-...

"Kagome!" a voice interrupted her thoughts, calling out from the first floor of the two-story home. There was a second of pause before it continued, "Hurry up, Kagome! You'll be late for school!"

There was a pause of silence on the second floor, and the voice seemed to echo a moment before a head popped out of the bathroom, raven hair shining in the light, a confused look on her face as she contemplated what the voice just said while she folded the book she was reading closed.

Her eyes, a glowing neon color of grey and blue, darted to the old clock resting against the wall in the hallway. The hands ticked on silently except for the sound of tick-tock, and her eyes widened as she took in the time that it gave to her.

"Oh! I'm gonna be late!"

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Fangs of Blood

Kickoff!

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The loud tapping of her shoes hitting the pavement seemed to echo loudly in the streets she was currently racing through, her sneakers scraping along the cement sidewalk as her yellow backpack bounced up happily on her back as she darted across a street, deciding to take a shortcut through the Town Square. The huge Town Square was, quite literally, a squared-shaped area, where festivals were held and was one huge nature park.

Along the edge of the park was a path, outlining the square, and at each of the four sides, the path branched inwardly, running straight in and connecting at the center area. The paths that led to the fountain were made of neatly cut stone, polished and even, and in perfect condition most of the time. Since there were four paths to the large area where the fountain loomed, which meant the rest of the park, with the foliage and nature, of what was remaining, was divided into four parts.

From each of the stone paths, dirt paths leading into the forestry branched out, to allow the visitors to get a closer look at nature. In one of the areas, the northwestern part was a small river and a pond, where the stream flowed from and eventually made it back to the pond, making sure to stay in the area.

Her sneakers gave a lovely screech as she skidded to a stop at the corner, waiting impatiently to get across the black colored road as her eyes darted to the stoplight above, taunting her with the lit up green circle. Her jaw tightened as it blinked red, and she sprinted across the road to the other side, not caring if cars were still racing across the pavement to beat the red light.

She whirled around a corner and entered the Town Square, making her way across the stone walkway to the center, where she would take a right to swerve around the giant fountain in the center and arrive at her school on the other side, just in time for class. Leaping across the white picket fence that surrounded the pathway, she landed and sprinted across the grass, tearing up the turf in her wake as she made her way to the center of the Town Square.

Once there, she was about to take off around the fountain, but she slowed down as her gaze caught the center of the area she had just arrived in, which stood an thoroughly designed fountain, composing of three different intricate layers, like a cake if you will. The first layer was a wide circle, with water settling down inside of the stone boundaries, blue crystal clear water, sprinkling down like a waterfall.

The second layer was like the first, only slightly smaller, with water shooting out of the wolves' mouths, which were perched along the edge of the second layer, their heads turned up to the moon, as if they were howling a loss, for water silently rolled out of each of the four wolves' eyes. In the center of that, there was the third layer, where two figures, very much human, were displayed.

One was a male, with the features obscured, for his spiky bangs were covering his face on his lowered head, shielding it from view. He was holding the other figure, which look to be lying on the ground until picked up from the waist up by the male. It was a female, with her features obscured as well, but she had long hair, that reached the small of her back, with long, jagged bangs that covered her closed eyes slightly, and her lips were slightly parted.

There were dark marks along her face, along her high cheekbones and across her slightly small nose, and near her neck and jawbone. There were dark marks along the hit of the blade that pierced her in the stomach, which had, seemingly killed her. Their faces were not far from each other, as if the male had given her a farewell kiss.

Kagome stopped in front of the fountain, her eyes trailing down over the features of the hero and his love. She suddenly felt mellow, in awe as well as sadness at the tragic scene before her, as she studied the two silently, the seconds ticking by as it seemed in slow motion as she realized something.

The girl actually, looked like her, and she shuddered slightly at the thought, not wanting to think of the horrible things she must've gone through... or the good things that she had seen during her journey. A sad smile graced her lips. At least it would've added a little spice to her life.

She spied the golden plague that was planted firmly against the side of the first layer of the fountain, and walking up slowly, she slowly began to read what was printed and engraved into the golden rectangle.

"Our hero is struck with grief as his love dies, forever to leave him, going to a place where he cannot follow, and he can do nothing about it. Our hero, who had saved the world at the cost of his love's life, is frozen with confusion and regret for not being able to save her and save the whole world at the same time when he thought he could. Our hero, who had saved the world for those he had hated, had saved them instead of his love, confident; he could save both and gambled the lives of all who were involved.

We could only be grateful that he saved us first and not his love. Our hero, we salute you, and honor you with this statue and fountain, however, we know it will never amount to the loss of your love. We can only hope you are happy where you have fled."

Kagome was unaware of the tears that had formed in her eyes, until the image of the golden plague blurred and she felt something wet on her cheeks, streaking down towards her chin. She quickly scrubbed the tears away, quietly laughing to herself in embarrassment, for she had always loved stories so tragic and romantic such as that, but she was humiliated because she always cried at the scenes like this.

She wiped the rest of the tears away, blinking a few times before a bell chimed high and faraway. Her head snapped up, and she glanced around quickly, searching for a source of time, but she realized it was the school's bell, and she sprinted down the rest of the way, leaving the looming fountain behind as she disappeared down the pathway.

Leaping over a few rocks that were nestled cozily on the sides of the walkway, she made her way to her school, crossing the street - which she had dodged the cars skillfully - and slipping into the crowd of kids that were piling through the front door to get to their classes.

She took a deep breath, regaining her composure as she turned and sauntered casually off to the first class of the day. It was Literature, or at least a type of Language Arts, and strutting through the door, she took her assigned seat and plopped down in it, setting her stuff by her feet and leaning back against the chair as she gave a yawn, stretching her arms behind her. The teacher was late again. What a surprise, she noted, until the teacher walked in, and Kagome glanced confusedly at the clock, realizing that the teacher was actually early.

She shrugged and pulled out her book, setting it gently against the surface of her desk, before taking out a pencil and watching her instructor carefully as the students copied her motion, getting ready for today's lesson. The teacher - Mrs. Kitharas, her mind supplied - took out her own copy of the book, the teacher's edition, and flipped to a page a few pages before Kagome had stopped earlier that morning.

"Today, we'll be reading over the ending of the battle that the hero and the demon fought, where he finds his love and tries to heal her with what was left of the ultimate element," Mrs. Kitharas announced, tapping the page as if to prove a point. There was a quiet shuffle as the students opened their own books, flipping to the page that their teacher was on. "Kagome, please start us off. Top of page six hundred and forty-four, first paragraph."

The said girl nodded and looked down at the page, found her place, and then began reading aloud the printed text. "The demon fell upon the final blow, white light purifying its form, sending it as ashes to the floor as the hero stood up victoriously, and turning upon his companion to tell her of his accomplishment, he watched, frozen, as his love collapsed on the ground, too weak to stand up any longer..."

And the story was on.

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Author's Notes: What'd you guys think? I've already written some more chapters for this story, and I'm hoping I won't get lazy and discontinue it. That seems to happen to all of my stories and it sucks! Well… anyways, I hope you guys like this story! And I do accept flames, 'cause I just think of them as constructive criticism. But if you do decide to diss this story, please don't be too harsh! Thanks, and see you next time!

Next Chapter Update: Two or three days max, I promise.

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Fangs of Blood

Preview!

Begin!

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'Human? You're not...' A thump ahead of her stopped her train of thought and she glued her eyes to the club that the ogre was wielding. For a few moments they lingered on the wooden weapon until she turned her head and glared at the boy perched way high up, and pointed. "Look, if you don't help me out, I'll die-!"

"-Like I care-" he mumbled, but Kagome continued anyway.

"-and I'll turn into a ghost because I won't rest until I feel like I've haunted you enough!" she finished with her wagging finger turning into a shaking fist, and the boy sighed, the hand supporting his head dropping to rest on his other arm. His eyes were slightly covered by his bangs, and the left was almost nearly invisible from her sight, but she saw them narrow.

"You're so obnoxious," he grumbled as if he was taking care of a little kid. Kagome practically flamed, but before she could send him a look that would send him six feet under, the ogre grunted and threw down his club. She screamed, pressing herself against the tree as if she was trying to burrow through it.

…

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Fangs of Blood

Preview!

End!

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Until next time!

Fangs of Blood: Chapter One -->