Real vampires don't sparkle. Real vampires don't only drink the blood of animals. Real vampires don't associate with humans. Real vampires have weaknesses. Real vampires are ruthless. Real vampires are loners. Real vampires are the ones to fear...
I'm sorry if you don't like this, but I've been craving some real vampires since Twilight has become an excuse for a rampaging sea of hormonal girls to fangirl over a vampire who sparkles. And if a vampire ever did sparkle, he probably wouldn't be that into girls. Flame me if you want, review for me if you'd like, either way you're leaving feedback. Thank you for reading and have a great day.
Dedication: To those who dislike the Twilight vampires. Down with sparkles...
Disclaimer: I don't own the concept of vampires or werewolves (obviously), but I do own the character of Enid Fey.
A wolf's warning howl echoed on the crisp air, a stiff wind carrying the sound over the moonlit slopes of the mountains. A pack of wolves ran through the trees of the forest, their paws hitting the snow silently. They all ran with a single purpose: to escape. They were being followed. They were being hunted. A figure followed them from above, leaping from tree to tree easily, almost flying through the branches. A pair of blood-red eyes gleamed in the small patches of moonlight that shone through the tree limbs.
The wolves ran on, heading for a safe spot: a clearing where the sun would shine the second it peeked over the horizon. All they had to do was keep ahead of the bloodsucker. They leaped over a small river, pausing to see if the demon could follow. A snarl of anger was heard in the trees and they could sense that she could not cross the moving water. They grinned to themselves and continued on, their running slower now and more at ease. They even started to play amongst themselves. They were safe, the bloodsucker could not follow them now.
Enid snarled as she sat in the trees on the opposite side of the moving river. She couldn't cross it, dammit...She ground her teeth, her fingers starting to stroke the furry vest that she wore over her white tank-top. She bit the inside of her cheek in thought, spitting out her foul blood onto the snow far below. She got an idea and started moving through the trees, seeking out a spot of weakness in the river. There had to be one, it was the dead of winter. Was that-? It was. A wicked grin spilt her face.
The pack leader stopped, sensing a change in the winds that blew through his fur. The smells changed...a far-off sound reached his ears. She had crossed. He let out a howl of warning, the cubs running back to their mothers, the pack once more moving together and running through the forest. He lead them through the trees, around rocks and over thickets. The bloodsucker remained hot on their trail, even more eager now that the hunt had become more exciting. They burst from the forest into the clearing, staying near the center. The pack leader looked to the full moon, hoping it would not leave the sky. In their current forms, they could fight. If the moon left the sky...
His head whipped about as he heard the red-eyed demon land on the branches of a tree on the edge of the clearing. He knew that she knew where this meadow was located. The sun would be up in a few minutes. She would have to find shelter soon. He snarled at her, then suddenly felt a trembling in his limbs, felt the fur covering his body starting to shrink. In a panic, he looked for the moon. It was gone, it had slipped below the horizon without his notice, the sky was now empty of it's soft glow. He let out a snarl of frustration that quickly turned to a growl of a human. He stood on his two legs, now completely human. The pack moved closer together, the younger teens in the center of the ring of elders, all snarling at the demon in the trees.
The woman's boots hit the snow with a soft thump as she landed, her fangs glinting through her grin. "Hello, wolfie." she said, her eyes gleaming demonically. "Have a fun run?"
"Stay away, bloodsucker." the pack leader snarled, the small hairs on the back of his neck standing straight up. "You cannot stay here long. The sun is coming."
"Then I'll have to make my meal quick, won't I?" she said, inching forward slowly.
"You can't fight us all." he said, taking a step forward.
"I don't have to." she said, disappearing. A yelp of pain and she was once more in the trees, one of the older teenagers in her iron grip. "You're much too slow." she said, giving the boy's neck a lick before sinking her fangs into it, eyes rolling as she sucked the still wolfish blood. The boy screamed in pain, struggling in her grip, slowly growing weaker.
"No!" the pack leader shouted, darting forward. The vampiress glared down at him and broke the boy's arm. The following scream made the pack leader stop in his tracks.
"It's rude to interrupt a meal." she snarled down at him, the boy's blood dripping down her chin. The boy was crying, obviously trying not to, trying to stay brave for his mother down in the pack. The vampiress licked up the boy's tears, leaning down and biting him again, sucking more blood. She pulled back and licked her lips, reluctant to let any of the savory blood spill. "There. That wasn't so bad, was it?" she said into the boy's ear. She snickered, then let him drop. The pack leader caught the boy before he hit the ground, glaring up at the vampiress. "Later, wolfie." she said, licking a drop of blood off her fingers before disappearing into the forest, heading for her shelter.
The pack leader looked down at the pale youth in his arms, tears building up in his eyes. He fell to his knees, a loud keening cry escaping his lips as he realized that the boy in his arms was dead. He hugged the cub to his chest, tears pouring down his face as he howled to the sky. The pack joined in, the mother of the boy collapsing to snow sobbing.
"My son!" she screamed to the quickly brightening sky as several wolf-mothers wrapped their arms about her in comfort, tears in their eyes as well. The pack leader stood, the limp boy held in his arms. He walked over to the grieving mother, who shakily stood and kissed her dead son's forehead one last time before turning away unsteadily to the comforting arms of her friends. The leader started walking away, turning and looking back at his pack.
"Stay here." he said, turning back to the forest and disappearing within it as the sun peeked above the horizon, sending it's warm rays dancing over the mountain's side. The beauty of the morning was lost upon the loss-stricken pack, howls of pain and grief echoing through the mountain range.
At a moving stream deep in the woods, the pack leader finished tying rocks to the boy's form. He blessed the body and lowered him gently into the water, ignoring the stinging cold to tuck the body underneath the ledge. He shoved rocks into the water to seal off the small grave, making sure that the boy would not rise a vampire. He sat on the icy bank, staring at the waters with tears still glistening in his eyes. This time...was one time too many. That vampiress had made his pack a target for more than three months, always attacking just after the full moon when the wolf in their blood was still hot.
"Enid Fey..." he growled, eyes glowing with fury. That vampiress was a menace. A curse. All bloodsuckers were a curse, but his pack had managed to avoid conflict with them...until now. "Enid Fey." he snarled, standing up. This time he would not rest until he had hunted her down. This time he would not sleep until a stake had been driven through that monster's chest. Now...the huntress would become the hunted.
He took off running, dashing back to the pack, mind racing with ideas and plans. 'This time...we will hunt you, Enid Fey.' He howled challengingly to the bright morning sky.
A few miles away, Enid Fey lounged in her shelter, her eyes closed contently. She stroked her furry vest absentmindedly, happily recalling her meal that night. The boy had been most delicious, a blend of native spices and wood smoke mixed with the heady taste of blood. Every drop had been a treat in and of itself. It had almost been a shame to kill him, but she couldn't have another vampire running around in her hunting territory. That just wouldn't do at all. This werewolf pack was hers, all hers. Her nose flared, smelling the different minerals in the earth around her, the different synthetic threads in her shirt, the smell of her first kill...She grinned wickedly, fingers picking up speed on her vest, stroking the fur almost lovingly.
She yawned contentedly, stretching her limbs. She settled down on her make-shift couch, a pile of pillows, sheets and furs. It was time to sleep. It had been a long night. She smiled as she planned the next night out. Maybe she would visit the local town, pick up a pint of beer or two at the tavern. Listen to the tales about the inn. Dance with a pretty boy in the square. The possibilties were endless...
She fell into a coma-like sleep, completely safe.. deep under the ground in her cave. No dreams for the wicked...
Flame if you wish, review if you'd like. Do what you wish. But thank you for reading.
