I couldn't feel the branches ripping my cheeks, I couldn't feel my bloody legs, I couldn't even feel the pain shooting throughout my ribs and back. The only thing that echoed throughout my mind was this and only this; freedom. I'd dreampt of it, I'd imagined it. I'd tasted it, I'd wanted it, and I'd fucking get it. I deserved it, all my service I was hardly given priveleges. One of the draw backs of being captive of a war mage. They weren't fabulous partners; or owners in my case, especially sadistic pricks with over imaginative egos. This was it, was what I'd been waiting for. Just the chance, the simple chance of getting away. I swore to God I'd only need it once, and I was damn sure to keep it.
Here was the gig; I'm phsycic. Believe it or not, not the gypsy-rub-my-magical-ball phsycic. I can hear the dead; and they won't shut the hell up. It's called 'The Gift.' I wish it had a return tag, 'cuz I didn't want it. I first found I were phsycic when my dog got ran over at nine years old and all night long I heard it barking inside my head.
My parents did exactly what any parents would have done . . . they made it worse. Therapy, phsycy, you name it; I'd been treated with it. Finally at eleven years old I'd had enough. Now looking back I couldn't have been any more naive. I ran into a dark alley way, and ended up in the hands of a real rub-my-magical-ball gypsy. She had a debt, found I was the real deal, took me in, and traded me off. Kind of black market-false security type of deal. I was traded to a dark war-mage; a very very bad thing. May I again emphasize 'very'. You think these things don't exist, little fairy tales to hush naughty children to go to bed or the big bad monsters will get them. Those big bad monsters weren't fairy tales, they were so very, very real. And they came with nifty spells and threats and power and money. Not good things together, especially in the wrong hands.
These were the wrong hands. I was the one behind the power, the money, the complicated shit, everything. I was behind everything, and it came with a nasty pricetag. My freedom, my everything, my life in general. I'd finally had had enough, conspired a plan to get the hell away from that mad man. And he'd already had Were's after me in about an impossible span of thirty minutes of running. It wasn't unexpected, the damned mansion was guarded like God himself lived there. The man was egotistical enough to believe he were God. But he slipped up and that was all I needed. One chance, one good whole-hearted chance, and I was out of there. Only problem was I had werehyenas on my heels; not a good thing. They weren't the best kind of Were's you can get on the market for trading, but they were good enough to get a 18, 5 foot 4,100 and exactly 19 pound human phsycic in a heartbeat. But like I said, this was my chance. By God if it got screwed up by a small mistake.
I came reeling back into reality when I ran face first into a brick wall, but in reality when I looked up it wasn't a brick wall at all. It was a person and a man at that. It took only seconds of the new fallen snow for me to realize they were standing behind me, I did the only thing I could think of . . . I made a deal.
"Hey! Stop stop stop!" I jumped behind the tall man, whom was now learing down at me. Breathing heavily I rested against him as the two Werehyena's were growling at the man to move. Thank God the poor guy didn't. Probably out of confusion, but I coudln't have given two shits less why the man didn't move, just as long as he didn't.
"I have-have a deal, alright? A deal?" I slowly peaked out from behind the man's coat to stare at the two dogs, God those things were ugly little bastards.
"Listen- I know you hate Tommy just as much as I do. You can excape!" I said breathlessly throwing my hands up exasperated. One of the hideous little things took a step forward.
"There is no excaping the Great Tommy! Even you, little phsycic should know that best of all." I growled through drooling fangs. I grimaced at it, bending over to catch my breath.
"There are ways, puppy. Look at me now! I almost got away! Just-just- do yourself a favor and SCATTER!" I hollered, clapping my hands together as I stepped infront of the man suddenly. They did exactly what I thought they'd do; run face first into my energy shield. Yes, it took a great deal of my power and energy out of me; considering that was exactly what it was made of, my own power and energy. But that little rub-my-magical-ball-gypsy had some tricks up her sleeve before she shoved me on her debt pricetag. And this was one of those nifty tricks.
The second they bounced back, wondering what had happened, I was out of there. Running like the devil himself were after me, and if you think about it those little minions whom I couldn't hear by the way; worked for the devil himself. And I had no intentions what-so-ever to go back to that hell, that personnal prison. I'd earned that man millions, probably billions. I'd most likely even killed people unknowingly for him. Why he kept me I'm not sure. But throughout the years my doubt of the universe withered away as it shoved fairy tales in my face. Labelling it 'Zowie's Reality'. I no longer doubted what the world heald in store behind it's metaphoricaly closed curtains. Nor did I ever want to find out, but God had a tricky way or working with your doubts.
Running through the streets of New Orleans is not a good idea. Not at all. Especially 2 in the morning, in the park, in the middle of winter. But again, God had other plans for me. I went to the only person that was given to me, the only person I was given for companionship; Stryfe. I'd been running for what felt like hours. Finally I ended up in the Garden District of Uptown New Orleans. A huge pristine sign that I quickly disregarded read "Garden Estates".
It was a quiet suburb, always had been, most likely always will be. Nicely built and landscaped upper-middle class homes. Some wide out and mostly empty from traveling lawyers, to Doctor's that never leave the hospitals. To lonely children whose parents are too wrapped up in their businesses to realize they even had children. I could sympathize. Unfortuanetly Styfe Blacksmith's house was at the very end of the suddenly seeming dark and dangerous looking dead end.
I rushed to it, my shadow whispering faintly as I ran on the side walk, the only hints a person was even on the road was by the pooling light of the sidewalk-streetlamps. Illuminating me what seemed like every other second. I rushed up the long elegant stairs, past the well choregraphed yards and into the long lion statues to beat restlessly on the door. Unfortuanetly he didn't answer, finally I kicked his 'Go away' matt aside, revielling nothing more than a non-swept rainsoaked rectangluar cement. I grimaced, getting on my tip-toes to run my fingers along the outside of his door panel, nothing. I nearly screamed at my idiocity as I opened the fake door bell latch, revielling the hidden key. I looked behind me quickly as whispers filled my head.
"Not now not now." I nearly cried to myself as I saw a shadow burste in and out of the shadows. Spilling into the light everyother millisecond. I turned back to the key quicker than I could have blinked, shoved it in, turned it, burste through the door, and locked it behind me.
It wouldn't have scared me as much if that person just rammed into the door like in the movies. Half a millisecond too late to catch me, but nothing hit the door. Not even a breath. Not even a hair's breath. It only made me more frantic. I suddenly looked around the very very empty house. Not only was it empty and huge, but it was . . . oh so dark. So dark it could hide a nation of scary things with big claws and furry beasts that wanted to rip me apart and eat me for dinner. This thought was not comforting. I slid my hand slowly up the wall to find the motionsensor light. Before I could blink the lights burtse on and I screamed. I screamed and I screamed and I screamed. Until finally Stryfe shut me the hell up.
"Zowie? Zowie what are you doing here?" He asked shaking me over and over. I looked up at him through tear filled eyes and raw cheeks when I jumped on him. I pounced on him, expecting him to fall over and when he didn't I couldn't have cared less.
"I'm so sc-scared! So-scared they're gunna-gunna get me Stryfe!" He petted my hair and rocked me back and fourth soothingly. He didn't need to ask who, he already knew.
"He's not going to get you Zowie darling. He's not going to lay a hand on you." I cried on his shoulder until I hiccuped so hard and so loud I could barely breath. My nose felt like it was stopped up with wet and thick sand paper. My eyes hurt when I closed them and my cheeks burned to high heaven. I shook violently in his arms as he walked me up the stairs.
"Be still my Zowie." He soothed gently as he continued to tip-toe up the never ending marble stairwell. He pushed open his thick cherry wood door and carried me into heavily accented bedroom.
This was a vampire's bedroom from first glance. He had a four poster mahogony bed, with rich rich deep red silks throw over as a canopy. A black goose-down comforter, that had more layers than a double caramel cake had. I couldn't feel the carpet on my now-bare feet. But I'd felt it before and they were utter and cereal clouds beneath your toes.
The walls were painted a dark grey that looked like a passive-purple sky. I wondered sometimes if his walls were made to look like a sky right before a terrible hurricane blew everything away. I never asked. He set me down on the utterly heaven bed, as he stripped his satin laced vest from his shoulders and chest, letting it fall with a 'swish' onto the silk sheets. He toed off his shoes and literally floated in beside me. He took out the marlbe-daisy comb that held that mound of ebony locks imprisoned. I so grew to hate that comb.
I watched it as it floated down his shoulders to swing around his thighs; like an exotic strip tease. Oh, how he was always a treat for me. Although I never took him as such, more like a guardian. Those huge green eyes locked onto mine as I ran my shaking fingers through his hair. He curled me like a small child against his chest as I shook and cried my woes away.
I watched as he bat those huge grey eyes at me, accenting all thatstormydarkgreywith thick, long, and heavy black lashes. Those lashes literally touched his cheeks. I wondered why some people called those amazing eyes cold. They were far from it. They reminded me of a rainstorm. Right when the sky is booming with thunder, not yet striking but warning all the same. Those stormy eyes, how I grew to find them home. Beautiful.Amazing. He had a nose that looked like it had been painted by Divinci himself. His lips were pouty and lush, pale and cold also. He had a strong jaw and a chiseled chin. This man had dimples, dimples that made you want to lick and kiss them.All in all it looked like he were a person who were carved from the earlier geniouses of our time; while God himself blew air into that gorgeous statue, as it came alive. He stood about 6'3 with arms as thick as my thighs. He wasn't body-builder musculine, but he wasn't delicate, also. He was one hundred percent man. And when he held me and rocked me the way he did; nothing existed and I was the safest person in the world.
I spent many a nights like this, in his arms as a child. Weaping that I wanted to go home. He sympathized. Now I was 18 and technically, that man couldn't keep me anymore. Even if we were Magik beings, that didn't oustand human laws and rights. I was legally 18, I didn't live in the Magik Community, nor did I live by their laws. Once upon a time (A little over three hours ago) I lived in fright of those laws. But like I said . . . all I needed was one-good-excape. And I was gone forever.
I rested my cheek against that warm-lifeless skin, the skin that looked like unreal unhuman, freshly fallen snow on a midnight morning. I touched those ivory carved hands and he shook.
"You haven't fed." I said through tiny hiccups. He chuckled deeply against my cheek.
"My Zowie, sleep until the sun comes up. May you find yourself in the arms of safety." He kissed the top of my head and my eyes grew heavy like tow trucks were pushing them down. I sighed miserably.
"Not tired." I mumbled through a yawn.
"Sleep my Darling." He said quietly, and like that I was out.
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Yes yes now the author's notes. It is now 5:10 in the morning, and I am going to retire. This was actually inspired by an RP I did with a friend, except I went back and rewrote everything to my liking. I hope you enjoy it, please do not correct me on my grammar errors, I do realize I probably have made a horror flick with all my mis-pronounciactions. God help me I spelled that wrong too. shakes head Ah well. I do hope you enjoy. This is my original, so be kind, rewind. You can review if you like, or not; I don't really care. Goodnight
- Lex :3
Btw- I do realize this is probably in the wrong section. Please forgive me but...I don't give a damn. Kthanx.