-1Anastasia's
eyes darted across her painting, looking for any missed details. For
her, perfection in her art was a necessity. Every brush stroke had to
be the right density and shade. Each line had to be perfectly aligned
and angled. Each detail was a fragment to a much larger picture, so
getting the fragments correct was the first step to creating a
masterpiece. She sighed in the rare satisfaction that she experienced
only when she had completed a painting. She put the canvas into the
frame she had prepared for it and looked it over again.
A dark
night sky overshadowed the small lake outside a house's window. A
woman sat in the house, looking out the window wistfully, the moon
shining down on the water. The water was rippling slightly outwards
from a male figure stepping into the water carefully, coming towards
the window. The trees shook from the wind that ran through them,
blowing dark green leaves into the wind carelessly. She had always
loved painting she visions from her dreams. They were always so
vividly realistic, it was like watching a movie. She set the painting
in it's silver frame, the swirls of metal setting off the beautiful
glow of the moon over the scene. She set the finished painting
against the wall again and looked up when a knick sounded from her
door. She opened it to see a man with blond hair and bright blue eyes
smiling at her warmly, holding a large Tupperware dish in his
hand.
"Brought you dinner. I figured that you didn't make any
for yourself since you've been so busy with your work lately." He
grinned wryly, spotting the splotches of black and blue paint on her
face, arms and hands.
"Thanks Stephan. Come on in, don't mind
the mess." She said casually, moving aside to let him walk in.
Paint tubes littered a large table, stacks of newspapers serving as a
replacement for the bottom of a leg of the table. Paintings lined the
walls, tape holding up ideas and sketches soon to be brought to life
randomly places around the room on every surface not already covered.
The room looked like it had a wallpaper of her imagination, paintings
coming in an array of styles from imitation Egyptian on papyrus to
macabre paintings of dark hues and tones. Stephan moved a dish of old
food from the seat and sat down in a chair in the living room, which
wasn't so plastered with paintings as the dining room had
been.
"You know, you should probably clean this place at some
point." He said sarcastically, looking at her as she took the dish
from him and opened it curiously.
"Mm, spaghetti. You didn't
have to do this you know." Anastasia looked at Stephan thankfully,
who shrugged innocently. He looked over at her newly finished
painting and back to her with raised eyebrows.
"Still having
that dream again?" He asked, motioning his head toward the
paintings surrounding them, some of which had the same theme: dark
scenes with a moon shining down on the forest outside her small
house, the lake's waters lit by the rays, a man in the waters or
else in the forest, but always moving toward the house.
"Yeah,
the same dream repeating. But I don't know what to make of this
one. It's different. The feeling I get after the dream ends is like
someone's calling for me to come to them."
Stephan looked up
at her in concern and noticed that her eyes were unfocused as if she
was thinking of something far away.
"Anastasia?" He asked,
trying to bring her back to reality. She looked at him in surprise as
if she had forgotten he was there. He put his hand on his forehead
forlornly and looked at her in worry. "Just watch yourself,
alright?" He said in concern, turning annoyed when she rolled her
eyes and scoffed at him.
"Honestly Stephan, you worry way too
much. I can take care of myself you know." Anastasia teased, eating
her spaghetti carefully.
"Yeah I know, but sometimes you're
just not careful enough for your own good."
"Alright, alright,
I'll be more careful, alright?" Anastasia sighed in exasperation
and smiled teasingly to him. "I just have one of those funny
feelings that something exciting is going to happen soon."
Jonathon
looked up at the paintings in front of him. He had always liked
looking at the art pieces in here, never knowing why he was drawn to
this building so much. He looked up at the painting in front of him,
it's bright colors dull and gray to his ancient eyes. He was a
Carpathian, and ancient species as old as time itself, able to
control weather and nature at will. But as the centuries had passed
from his curse of immortality, the world had grown bleak and colors
had faded from him. It was a curse of the Carpathian males, that
until they found their lifemate, the woman they are destined to be
with for the rest of their life, the world remains dark and dull.
There was a much worse fate than death for those males who gave up to
the beast inside of them before they found their match. They turned
into the undead, a vampire, only able to feel emotions when killing.
He shivered at the memory of his childhood friend 'turning'
before he had reached 500 but Jonathon had always known him to be
weak. He glanced around the building as he went inside, the men,
women and children around him like walking wax dolls to his view.
None of them really mattered to him, as no human had mattered for
nearly seven centuries now. A crowd was gathered around one of the
newer paintings in the gallery, a featured local artist who
apparently was very popular. He maneuvered his way through the crowd
to look at this painting and had to take a step back in shock when he
saw it. Vibrant colors of blues, greens and silver poured into his
eyes from the painting, nearly blinding him temporarily. He closed
his eyes to shield them from the vibrant colors and opened them to
see if he had only been hallucinating. When he opened his eyes again
the same color flooded his senses, making him clench his teeth in
pain. After so long of his bleak existence, this sudden onslaught of
color was shocking to his body. When he was finally able to look at
the painting without flinching, he widened his eyes in shock. In the
painting was a woman looking out of the window toward the moon, her
long brown hair tumbling down her shoulders like a curtain of silk,
her blue eyes bright and full of wonder. A dark figure walked through
the water of the lake outside her window, presumably have coming out
of the forest clearing behind him. He looked at the name of the
artist and closed his eyes a strange flood of warmth rushed through
him. It had to be her, there was no doubt in his mind. He walked out
of the gallery slightly stiffly and walked into the corner of the
building, melding into the shadows. He closed his eyes and separated
his spirit from his body, searching for where she might be. He flew
through the air as a spirit, and finally spotted her house in the
middle of a forest, near a lake. He saw her near the water, sketching
a picture of a few birds swimming in the waters. He gasped in
surprise as the world around him flooded with color, the trees below
him different shades of green, the sky above him turning from gray to
a blindingly bright blue. He lost control of his thoughts and tumbled
to the ground in his spirit form, but didn't try to conceal himself
because he knew that a mortal could not see a Carpathian in spirit
form. She looked up when he hit the ground behind her and looked
toward him with widened eyes, her face shocked.
Anastasia's
breath caught in her throat as she looked at the man who had
seemingly fallen out of the sky and landed near her. She set down her
sketchpad and oil pastels and walked over to him in concern. He
looked up at her in shock that she could see him. He tried to act
normally as she approached him and reached out. He stood up quickly,
motioning with a hand that he was all right.
"Who are you? And
how did you fall from the sky like that? Did you fall out of a tree
or something?" Anastasia asked him, stopping when she knew he was
not injured.
Jonathon swore in his mind, knowing he looked like a
fool now. "That is not of your business. You are an artist?" He
glanced over at her sketchpad curiously, seeing the birds who he had
scared away pictured immortally on the paper.
"Not of my- GOD,
you are a JERK!" Anastasia scowled at him and took her sketchpad
and walked inside her house, slamming and locking the door behind
her. Jonathon shook his head in anger toward himself that he had been
so foolish. Now whenever she saw him, she would remember how
incompetent he had been. He swore loudly and his spirit leapt back
into the air, flying back toward his body. He entered his body once
more and moved his stiff joints, flexing his muscles like a wolf
waking from sleep. His black eyes burned with intense anger toward
himself and others as he walked off down the street toward his
apartment.
Anastasia walked back into her house, slamming the door behind her. After she had been so concerned about him, after she had been prepared to help him into her house and care for him if he had been hurt, how DARE he have that kind of attitude toward her? She looked down at her sketch of the swan that had been in her lake and swore. Now she could never finish its grace and beauty. She snorted through her nose in disgust and sat down, reaching across the table for a book to calm her down. After a few hours of losing herself in the realm of fantasy she stood up again and let out a deep soothing sigh. Maybe she had been too harsh on him. What if he had fallen from a tree and just didn't want to sound stupid or something? She shook her head and looked out of her window toward the clearing in the forest. She knew that someday someone would walk out of those trees and into her life forever. She just didn't know who it would be. Whenever she had a dream that repeated itself like this one did, it usually came true in some ways. But this dream was different from all the others. Not only was it confusing to her, and she didn't know what would happen to her in the future, she couldn't see what was happening in the dream. It had been a vision with her looking out of the window of her house and seeing a tall man walking toward her in determination, acting as if the lake wasn't even there. He had merely walked right through it, along the edge toward her. The dream finally ended with him only a few feet from her, but the darkness still hid his face from her view so that she didn't know what he looked like. She sighed in frustration and glanced at the clearing again. All she knew was that the figure that had been coming out of the forest wasn't Stephan. Stephan was a light haired man, and the man in the vision had definitely had long, much darker hair. She looked down at the ground uneasily for a second, wondering what the man from the vision would do once he met her. Obviously he would be important to her in some way, but she didn't know how. Would he be a publicist who would make her work known all throughout the world? Or would he be some sort of long lost sibling or something? Maybe even a dark and sexy lover? She shook her head at that last thought. She knew she didn't want a boyfriend who was dark and angst-y. She and Stephan had been lovers for a short time before and she realized with him that she wanted a lover who was tender to her and cared for her well being, not what kind of sex they would have that night. She looked at the clearing one last time before she walked into the dining room, picking up the paint brush, a canvas from her closet, and set it on the easel, painting blindly, without a purpose. She let her mind wander as she painted, not knowing which directions the brush was going or what the outcome would be. Thoughts raced in her head as she thought of what had happened today. She had sent her painting to the local gallery and bids were already reaching into the upper hundreds for the painting. She had walked home with Stephan, who had noticed the birds in the lake and suggested she paint the beautiful scene. She had started painting the scene, loving the look of the swans clashing with the geese in the pond, the white of the swans reflecting in the water, and the darker hued feathers of the geese contrasting the swans. The trees of the forest behind the lake had been beautiful since it was now late summer, a few of them were turning a darker green in preparation for fall. The man had fallen suddenly out of the air and barked the insult at her, making her furious. But why had he been so cruel when he didn't even know her? He had asked if she was an artist, so he at least had some decency. But his voice had been so mesmerizing, his tone sounded as if he knew something she didn't. She clenched her teeth as she thought of his confident look toward her, his black eyes filled with amusement at her as she stood at him. He had wavy black hair that hid one of his eyes beneath its locks and a face that was perfect. Too perfect. She finally escaped her racing thoughts to come back to reality and looked at her painting, curious to what she had made. It was a mix of water and trees, the leaves melding together and deepening their color into the water, the man from earlier in the center of the painting, smiling at her wryly, swans and geese behind him flying up into the air. Anastasia swore and turned the easel around from her, facing the wall. What was wrong with her? She shouldn't be so obsessed with a stranger, it was abnormal. She walked into the living room and looked out the window, spotting a black wolf staring at her intently from the forest. She gasped in surprise and opened the door, but the wolf had left. She looked around in confusion and closed the door again. Wolves weren't this close to the city. It was against their nature to be so near the blaring lights and sounds of the town, even though it was a small town in the upper peninsula of Michigan. She shook her head and looked at the clock, gasping that the time was already 1 in the morning. She had always loved staying up late, sleeping most of the morning and day away until 3 or 4, but this morning she had woken at 11:00 to finish her painting while the dream was still fresh in her mind. She yawned and stretched, walking through the walls of her house into her bedroom. She had painted the walls of her bedroom herself, painting a scene of a field of one section of the wall, the flowers fading into the trees of the forest on the other three sides. She had loved doing this art piece, and it was still one of her favorites. It made her feel that each time she went to bed, she was sleeping out in the forest. She had even made the finishing touch of painting the ceiling like a clear night sky, complete with dots in glow-in-the-dark paint in the forms of major constellations. She put on a night gown and crawled into bed, setting her glasses on the table beside the bed carefully. The clock now read 2:00 am in large glaring red letters. Anastasia sighed, knowing she would most likely be sleeping until 4 or 5 tomorrow, but it didn't really matter, since she didn't have a real schedule to keep.
Jonathon looked at the small house in the forest clearing through wolf's eyes, watching solemnly as the light in the window finally went off. He silently concentrated and turned his form into a wisp of mist, floating through the crack of the window in her bedroom. He looked down at her slumbering face, her hair spread behind her head on the pillow in waves of brown silk, her face perfectly relaxed. He felt a rush of heat race through his veins and a pull from the pit of his stomach for her. He was still young for Carpathian standards, only 900 years. Since then the world has gone into chaos and much of the experiences only older Carpathians had he had experienced when he was young. He therefore lost his emotions much more quickly than usual, and some emotions he had never experienced before in his life. Like this one. His body ached for hers, his mind filled with erotic images of what he could do to her if he woke her up, undressed her and had his way. A small sound caught his attention from her, and he looked down to the ground to see a small dog looking up at him with a curious face, its bushy tail wagging happily. It had one leg that was bent in the middle, flopping brown ears and a small stature. Jonathon looked down at the dog and pet him on the head to make him keep quiet, looking at the collar to see what his name was and if he belonged to this woman. The tag read 'Coco' and he was registered with this house. So he belonged to her? Jonathon looked back at the sleeping woman, holding back the urge to wake her up, knowing she would not like to suddenly see a man in her house with no idea how he had gotten in. He decided that he would have to be patient, even through the ache of wanting to be with her. She was only human, after all. With that he turned into a small wisp of mist and floated through the house and under a small crack in the window, materializing outside the house into a black wolf that bolted off into the forest after taking one last look at the house behind it.
"Hey!
Anastasia, honestly you have to stop staying up so late or
something!" Stephan yelled from outside the door, knocking on
the wood as hard as he could to wake her up. He had the strangest
feeling he was being watched for some reason, and wanted to get in
out of the open as soon as possible. Anastasia opened the door, her
hair in knots and her eyes drooping.
"You stupid morning
bird, what time is it?" She growled, annoyed had being woken up
so early.
"It's almost 1:00! What are you doing still
sleeping? How late did you stay up last night?"
"I was
working on drawing a swan in the lake at night, but it got scared
off. I couldn't finish it. God I'm so tired, why don't you come
back later or something?" She murmured, and leaned against the
door frame.
"Because you have a meeting at the art gallery to
explain your paintings and reveal one of your newest pieces,
remember? Or did you forget in your realm of fantasy?" He
sneered, and walked through the door way as she moved aside to let
him in. Stephan looked behind him into the forest as the strange
feeling of being watched and threatened made a shiver crawl up his
spine. He guided Anastasia through the doorway by her shoulders
protectively and shut the door behind him.
"Get ready, and
I'll drive you to the gallery little miss hippy. Why don't you get a
car, anyway?"
"Cars are dangerous, reckless, and the
major factor of pollution in our atmosphere. If I can help it, I'm
going to refrain from contributing my fair share of ozone
destruction." She explained matter-of-factly, and walked through
the drawing strewn living room into her bedroom to get dressed,
closing the door behind her. Stephan looked around at the different
canvases lining the walls and grinned as he saw a painting of himself
hanging from one of the nails hammered into the wooden house. He had
posed for that painting for nearly two hours in order to satisfy her.
Not to mention get a free meal, since that was part of the agreement.
He accidentally knocked one of the paintings on the ground over, and
looked down at it as he picked it up in curiosity. It was a painting
of a very rugged looking man, with black hair and dark eyes that told
of a secret he was waiting to tell. Who was this guy? As long as he
had known Anastasia, she wasn't the type of woman who swoons over men
easily. In fact, she was rather stubborn about it, insisting that she
was picky and wanted the right guy to come along.
Then who was
this new man, and why did he look wild? Like a beast ready to pounce
on its prey. Stephan let out a snort of discontent and set the
painting back against the wall, facing backwards so he wouldn't have
to look at it again. He looked up as Anastasia walked out of her
bedroom and he grinned, seeing her outfit.
"Like it? I made
it myself with some spare fabric." She smiled, twirling and
letting the shirt dazzle him with its bright purples, teals and
blues. It was a long sleeve shirt, and the front had pieces of cloth
draping down so that while she spun, they whirled out with
her.
"Yeah, it's nice. You ready yet?" He asked,
glancing to the window as he felt something peering in at him. He saw
the large snout of a wolf disappear from view and hissed in a gasp of
surprise. "Anastasia, you've got wolves around your house!"
He said, and looked at her in worry.
"So?" She looked at
him in confusion, wondering why he was so worried. Wolves were a
common sight around here.
"So they're dangerous! I don't
think you should walk around outside in the forest much longer."
he said, knowing that every night she went out into the forest to go
for an 'inspiration walk' as she liked to call them.
"Oh,
bibbledee gibbledee. You worry too much. I'll be fine." She
smirked, and bopped him on the nose with the palm of her hand
playfully. he let out a long sigh, shook his head and walked out of
the house, looking over at the wolf that peered at him, its dark wild
eyes measuring him for whether he was friend or foe.
