Hello Everyone! Sorry I haven't written in a while... to say it's a long story would be an understatement! Anyways, I had an odd dream the other night and decided to write this. As per usual it's not completely up to my 100% satisfaction but I like putting up my writing as soon as possible so I'll likely edit it more at a later date. It's looking like this might be a two or three part story so stay tuned! As well, please note that this is very, very ooc. Reviews are definitely appreciated!

-xox

"Alors...she has come".

Nostrils flared as the haunting perfume of patchouli and pear flitted around his senses, it was the distinct scent of cinnamon which tore a strangled sob from within his throat. Cocooning around his senses until he was positively delirious, the scent evoked memoirs of yesteryear; a time in which his heart beat, a time in which a single touch could render him to his knees, a time in which he was alive and lived. Had he heeded his father's prose perhaps the threads of fate may have woven an alternate reality. A reality in which he no longer lusted for the insatiable, a reality where his nights ceased to be plagued with vicious onslaughts of terror, a reality in which he had never encountered her.

Her... The one; the thief who had stolen his affection and adoration, only to shatter his heart and sever their binds by vanishing into a realm in which even he could not intercede. To this day he cursed the fragility of humanity. The rise and fall of empires ought to have taught him the delicate balance of human existence, yet by the supremacy of empyrean forces unbeknownst to him; it was for the offspring of the very creatures he despised that he strove to alter the sands of time. However, much to his chagrin, in lieu of engaging in the ultimate sacrifice to display the proverbial promise of everlasting love, she had perished in an agonizing reminder of her human limitations. Limitations which, thanks to his dark twisted redemption, would soon be resolved.

With a practiced swirl of his wrist and a decidedly bored glance at the beaded and masked creatures adjacent to him, he resumed his watchful stance from one of the many decorated pillars within the ballroom. The theme du soir so to speak was one of staunch irony – eternal night. Of course, commemorating this particular soiree on All Hallows Eve only sweetened the bittersweet reunion. By all accounts, facing him ought to give rise to all sorts of delicious emotions. Having been reborn, the poor girl was rendered utterly vulnerable and susceptible to uncertainty and trepidation, and his time of being a gentleman had perished long ago with her refusal to allow him eternity.

He could already taste the tears.

Why had she bothered to come? It wasn't as if she knew many people here to begin with...

Fidgeting awkwardly as she approached the massive grandeur that was the Despereaux Manor, she once again readied her mask, giving the pearly gray ribbons an extra tug to ensure their fuse to her elaborate ensemble. As the slightly damp grass and contrasting crunch of gravel beneath her heeled feet brought her closer to the manor, a chill of seemingly foreboding nature flitted along her spine. Like the quintessential sacrificial lamb who is first to the slaughter in the many slasher flicks which 'graced' her local theatre, there she stood, feeling very much like prey before the stained manor doors.

A squeal escaping her pearled pink lips, what little colour she possessed quickly dissipated as a very dark duo of fallen angels burst from the doors, liquor clouding the air as they staggered past her as if oblivious to her very presence. For a split second it appeared as if their wings were living entities, the dagger like tips flapping ferociously as their drunken slurs morphed to howling cackles. Heart pounding within her chest, a gloved hand reached tentatively to her mouth as the duo sauntered down the cobbled lane, their wings once again rendered to cheap dollar store concoctions and their formerly blood chilling howls returning to drunken cries.

What in the world...

Sooty eyelashes blinking rapidly as the female gawked down the lane at the couple who were rapidly vanishing into the dark; another eerily familiar chill ran down her spine. Of course they were just costumes...it was Halloween after all and an everlasting night theme at that. What did she expect? Clowns and mermaids to waltz out from the party?

Summoning up her courage and turning to face the foreboding doors before her, she cautiously stepped up toward them, shivering as a sudden gust of wind rustled her silvered and greyed skirts, causing her precariously pinned chocolate locks to tumble down her bare back in a cascade of curls. Silently cursing as she reached back to relieve her hair of the lingering pins, she once again cast the manor doors a doubtful glance. Having recently been relocated to the strange little town of Eternity for a 3 month stint at the local dental clinic, everything from the secretive townspeople to the absurd sense of familiarity she had with the community caused her to feel a continuous unease. The vibes she was getting from the manor before her were no exception. In truth, her entire being was screaming at her to run the hell away, however, there was a nagging sense in the back of her mind that this was somehow right and that she was meant to be there.

Pshh...Yeah right, along with every other local yocal who parties at this Halloween shindig each year...

Fears giving way to rationality, she squared her shoulders and decidedly strode toward the doors, ignoring the uncomfortable sensation of a band forming along her ribcage. Drawn toward the house like a moth to a flame, her journey came to an abrupt halt when her laced hand came to rest directly on the paneled door. Obsidian clashing with the palest of greens, a green so fair it evoked images of a rough and frothy sea, she swayed backwards. Grinning with a smile that could only be described as masochistic, a demonic face challenged her, beckoning her forward as a rusted knocker seemed to appear out of nowhere within its dagger sharp teeth.

Good grief...some people get a little 'too' into the Halloween spirit.

Reaching up to tentatively knock on the door, she was thrown aback as the door abruptly swung open. One of the many teeth catching on her gloved wrist, she hissed painfully as the rusted metal tore the skin, a small trickle of crimson blood splattering her cheek and dripping to the weathered deck below; soaking into the aged wood.

"Mine".

Gaze flickering from the porch to the path, and once again back to the entrance of the manor, she cradled her wrist, ice quickly penetrating her heart as she sought out the owner of the phantom voice.

"H...Hello? Is anyone there?"

Debating whether or not she should return home to nurse her wound, or enter into the manor and hope to god that one of the party goers had a band aid, her decision was quickly made for her as the manor door quickly began to close, catching her hip and forcing her forward into the manor before coming to a sudden and grinding halt. Unease and frustration quickly welling within the cavity of her chest, she quickly steadied herself and attempted to open the door from within the manor with no avail. "You have got to be kidding me!"

"Leaving so soon?"

Skirts swishing delicately on the stained hardwood floor as she turned, all her previous shivers and heart tremors were instantaneously rendered irrelevant in contrast to the current ice cold feeling of fear and panic which coursed through her veins; wrapping around her like steel bands. Tongue too thick and awkward to move within her mouth and her throat too tight to even muster a scream, all she could to was stare in shock at the individual before her. Excruciatingly familiar yet utterly foreign, every aspect of the gentleman from his dangerously possessive stance, to his unnervingly pale gaze screamed at her to flee. Urging her body to just that, she found her delicately heeled feet planted to the spot, the floor seemingly swallowing her up to her ankles as distant images battled to resurface within her mind.

He was familiar.

Too familiar.