Author's Note: This is an origional story. I hope I made 11, Amy and Rory sound and act like themselves. And I hope that you enjoy reading it!
Reviews are always good.
Hope you like it!
Prologue:
The fog hung over the darkened landscape, clinging to the long blades of grass that were being parted by the two figures hurrying quickly through the field. A man and a women, holding hands, whispering softly to each other, making plans, and searching for a secret place that they could call their own.
The boy looked down at his companion. She was the picture of beauty. Long, dark hair fell in cascades upon her shoulders, her rosy cheeks partially hidden by a scarf that was wrapped tightly around her. New snowflakes clung to her long eyelashes. He squeezed her hand and whispered to her as they ran across the empty fields.
"I told you we could get away." He smiled down at her.
She looked up at him, taking in his light features, the blonde hair that fell into his eyes, his cocky smile, and those blue eyes that challenged the brilliance of a summer sky. She smiled and whispered quietly back to him.
"I knew we could. But we're not away yet." She glanced behind her at the town in the distance. The glow of the dim lights from the houses could barely be seen through the fog.
The boy looked quickly behind his shoulder. "They won't come lookin for us out here." He grinned slyly, "They're all too scared."
The girl squeezed his arm and said, "You don't believe those stories, do you?"
"Nah," the boy said, with a wave of his hand, "They're just made up to scare little children into stayin near the town so they don't get lost."
"But what if they're true? What if there really is something out here?" the girl questioned, her eyes wide as she looked around her worriedly.
The boy stopped them in a wide field. Tapping her affectionately on the nose he said softly, "You're workin yourself up. There aint nothing out here and you know it. Now why don't we forget bout those stories, and make some of our own." He winked, making her blush.
He leaned down and pressed his lips softly to hers, her blush traveling quickly across her cheeks. She lifted a hand to cup his cheek, as he snaked an arm round her waist, pulling her closer.
Neither of them noticed the presence of the dark figure watching them from the edge of the field. They were far too absorbed in each other. The figure watched them through lidded eyes, observing the two lovers standing in the lonely landscape.
The figure took a slow step forward, and then another, its feet padding slowly over the snow caked grass. The two people remained oblivious to its presence until it was beside them.
"Can I help you?" the boy asked the figure, pushing the girl behind him and attempting to stare down the stranger.
The face of the person was covered by a large hood, which cast a shadow over everything but the mouth, which was turned up in an evil smile. The skin around the mouth was wrinkled and caked with the remains of a recent meal, and the teeth were slightly pointed at the edges, much like an animal's.
"I said can I help you?" the boy asked again, backing away slowly. He didn't want trouble and he could tell that there was something quite strange about this person that had materialized in the darkness.
The figure shook its head and then it swayed slightly. It lurched forward and fell onto the ground at the boy's feet.
"Are you all right?" the boy asked, bending down and putting a hand out to tap the person on the shoulder.
The girl grabbed his hand away and whispered frantically into his ear, "Leave it. It's not right. There's something wrong with it."
"But they could be hurt," the boy said, wrenching his hand out of her grip. She looked on as he reached a shaking hand down to the cloaked figure. His fingers gripped the cloak, but then he stopped.
"Run." His voice was not his own. It was harsh and deep, louder than it should be, echoing across the fields.
The girl looked worriedly down at the boy. Shaking his shoulder she said softly, "Charles, what's wrong?"
The boy named Charles looked up at her. "I said run, Maybelline." His voice was barely above a whisper.
Maybelline put a hand to her mouth to stifle her scream. Charles's eyes were no longer the soft blue that she had fallen in love with. His irises were now a deep red, glowing in the darkness.
He smiled. This time Maybelline did scream. His teeth were bright red, dripping with blood that could only be his own. He coughed and blood splattered over the snow. Maybelline jumped back in horror as Charles's body convulsed, his red eyes wide. It was then that she noticed the pale fingers gripping his wrist.
Her eyes followed the hand down the arm of the hooded thing that was sprawled out over the snowy ground. As Charles moved, the arm of the thing jerked back and forth, but the rest of the body remained still.
"You're not listening to me, Maybelline." The harsh voice said. Charles had stopped moving. He lay on the grass next to the cloaked figure. He was too still. Only his mouth moved as he spoke.
"Run, Maybelline. Run now." Charles's demonic eyes bored into hers. He pointed to the town and said it again, "Run."
Maybelline obeyed, not daring to look back, running for all she was worth, her unsteady breathing the only sound in the silent fields topped with white.