Chapter 1 Forests Unknown
Comments: Most of this was all Amelia Atwater-Rhodes' work, the plot in this story is mine. My first fanfic! Read and Review! Comments! Criticism! Suggestions! Anything is helpful to Willowtear! Tell me if I should drop the story or if you want me to continue.
Risika glides down the streets of her city to the packed club Ambrosia. People part out of her way, they know her well, and she is respected.
She sits at one of the low black tables and listens to the pounding beat of the vampiric music. Closing her eyes, she lets her aura stretch out, smiling as she feels many of the fledglings in the club shudder at her power.
Opening her pale lids she focuses on the corner of the room. She feels his presence, but she cannot see him even in the dimly lit room she was used to. The corner was hidden in darkness too dark even for her eyes.
The lights go out and a red strobe light drifts across the wide room. She sees him, perched in the darkness staring back at her. She blinks in surprise. His gaze locks hers and she feels strange whisperings in her head, unknown whisperings. The whisperings summon her.
She waits for him to look away, challenging him to look away, hoping he does. The emerald eyes stare back at her and both break the gaze at the same time in silent agreement. She stands from the table and takes a step in his direction but thinks better of it when the pools of green silently laugh at her.
She turns and strides out of the club, her black knee length jacket flaps softly across her tight red blouse and black jeans. br
A pulsing in her head reminds her of her hunger. She transforms to a hawk and flies over the silent city, looking for prey. Her mind goes crazy with bloodlust as a scent perfumes the air. Death. She swoops down on golden wings and lands gracefully. Her prey is crouched on the ground. She feeds and takes off, licking the blood from her lips.
Flying through the open window of her home, she finds another rose on her bed. This rose has another aura on it, one she can't place. She paces her room, twisting the black rose in her hands, Aubrey was hers now, no longer a threat, so it couldn't have been him.
The rose was different than Aubrey's too. The tips were tinged with a dark, emerald green, just opened with droplets of steely liquid.
Risika dropped to her pillow, closing her eyes and reflecting. Alexander was alive, and she fed on the image of him, her own blood brother. She had been alive for more than 300 years, 300 years in which she had spent her solitude.
Maybe he had spent those years lonely too, looking for the Rachel that was to almost all minds, gone.
Rachel was still in her, the human part that sometimes still controlled her. She opened her eyes, black opals staring into the darkness of her room. She stares into the mirror across from her bed, and she wonders why she really has the mirror.
She stands up and crosses the room to the mirror, fingering the gemstone finishes around the border of the glass. She stares at the colored blur in the mirror, all that was left of her. She stalks out of her room and walks to the connected balcony. She cries out into the night, a searching call.
Aubrey answers. His vampiric voice rises in call humans did not hear. She nods, pleased with the information. She falls back onto her bed, dreaming of dark roses and flip-turned crosses.
Aubrey stood at his own balcony in New Mayhem. He heard the cry of one of his mistresses. He looked out at the city he had prowled for centuries, wondering if his sacrifice was worth it. The new feeling inside him twisted and turned inside him like a knife. He pondered Risika. Why did he give up his power?
' Of course I had to keep myself alive!' he thought to himself. Now he had embarrassed himself in front of a mixed crowd in Las Noches. He laid his head in his hands and stared up at a star. He always thought of her. Always.
He sighed, disgusted with himself. He leaps from the balcony, he laughs as he hears the few new fledglings in the street below him gasp in shock. He lands gracefully and dashes away. He runs beneath the trees surrounding the trees. Something solid collides with him.
'Foolish thing!' He thinks to himself, but his thoughts swim together in deep colors. He plunges to the ground and hits with a thud. Unconsciousness sets in, while the object glides away into the clearing fog.
Comments: Most of this was all Amelia Atwater-Rhodes' work, the plot in this story is mine. My first fanfic! Read and Review! Comments! Criticism! Suggestions! Anything is helpful to Willowtear! Tell me if I should drop the story or if you want me to continue.
Risika glides down the streets of her city to the packed club Ambrosia. People part out of her way, they know her well, and she is respected.
She sits at one of the low black tables and listens to the pounding beat of the vampiric music. Closing her eyes, she lets her aura stretch out, smiling as she feels many of the fledglings in the club shudder at her power.
Opening her pale lids she focuses on the corner of the room. She feels his presence, but she cannot see him even in the dimly lit room she was used to. The corner was hidden in darkness too dark even for her eyes.
The lights go out and a red strobe light drifts across the wide room. She sees him, perched in the darkness staring back at her. She blinks in surprise. His gaze locks hers and she feels strange whisperings in her head, unknown whisperings. The whisperings summon her.
She waits for him to look away, challenging him to look away, hoping he does. The emerald eyes stare back at her and both break the gaze at the same time in silent agreement. She stands from the table and takes a step in his direction but thinks better of it when the pools of green silently laugh at her.
She turns and strides out of the club, her black knee length jacket flaps softly across her tight red blouse and black jeans. br
A pulsing in her head reminds her of her hunger. She transforms to a hawk and flies over the silent city, looking for prey. Her mind goes crazy with bloodlust as a scent perfumes the air. Death. She swoops down on golden wings and lands gracefully. Her prey is crouched on the ground. She feeds and takes off, licking the blood from her lips.
Flying through the open window of her home, she finds another rose on her bed. This rose has another aura on it, one she can't place. She paces her room, twisting the black rose in her hands, Aubrey was hers now, no longer a threat, so it couldn't have been him.
The rose was different than Aubrey's too. The tips were tinged with a dark, emerald green, just opened with droplets of steely liquid.
Risika dropped to her pillow, closing her eyes and reflecting. Alexander was alive, and she fed on the image of him, her own blood brother. She had been alive for more than 300 years, 300 years in which she had spent her solitude.
Maybe he had spent those years lonely too, looking for the Rachel that was to almost all minds, gone.
Rachel was still in her, the human part that sometimes still controlled her. She opened her eyes, black opals staring into the darkness of her room. She stares into the mirror across from her bed, and she wonders why she really has the mirror.
She stands up and crosses the room to the mirror, fingering the gemstone finishes around the border of the glass. She stares at the colored blur in the mirror, all that was left of her. She stalks out of her room and walks to the connected balcony. She cries out into the night, a searching call.
Aubrey answers. His vampiric voice rises in call humans did not hear. She nods, pleased with the information. She falls back onto her bed, dreaming of dark roses and flip-turned crosses.
Aubrey stood at his own balcony in New Mayhem. He heard the cry of one of his mistresses. He looked out at the city he had prowled for centuries, wondering if his sacrifice was worth it. The new feeling inside him twisted and turned inside him like a knife. He pondered Risika. Why did he give up his power?
' Of course I had to keep myself alive!' he thought to himself. Now he had embarrassed himself in front of a mixed crowd in Las Noches. He laid his head in his hands and stared up at a star. He always thought of her. Always.
He sighed, disgusted with himself. He leaps from the balcony, he laughs as he hears the few new fledglings in the street below him gasp in shock. He lands gracefully and dashes away. He runs beneath the trees surrounding the trees. Something solid collides with him.
'Foolish thing!' He thinks to himself, but his thoughts swim together in deep colors. He plunges to the ground and hits with a thud. Unconsciousness sets in, while the object glides away into the clearing fog.