Cotton Candy Razors

Copyright Hope Not Inc. 2006-2008

Conceptualized and Written by: Desiree' Price AKA Trinity Gnosis

Edited by: Christopher H. Wadkins AKA Logan Draco III

In Loving Memory Of:

Joseph Micheal Lucas

1458 Years Before The Present

I stood above him, with hands aching and bleeding in pain. The steel spike clutched firmly in my fist. I wanted forgiveness, I wanted to be saved, but on top of every little thing that went through me wanting everything in the world, most of all I wanted answers. I had killed him, I had killed my maker and yet still I screamed out the question "why?" I dropped the spike from my bloodied hand and fell to my knees. I clutched my neck and let my life fade away, but it was soon replaced with something dark, a lust like no other.

Date: 04/26/06

"Don't mess with my stereo again!" My roommate snarled from the living room.

"And what'll you do about it? What'll you do to stop me next time?" I walked into the living room from the kitchen and bared my teeth at her with a slight hiss. She jumped back apprehensively in fear.

"Well, if your gonna use it, just don't touch the presets. Ok?" She waited nearly in tears for a response that I was never going to give. I was her superior and she had no place questioning me. She was still in a state of pause when I hissed at her again and she nearly jumped 4 feet in the air. She quickly saluted me, and began leaving the room.

"Chainarra... I'm sorry..." I looked up at her as I sat down. The couch was made half way of black velvet and chain outlines. The other half was made of pink and black checked upholstery with a cherry wood finished outline. She had stopped in her tracks and looked at me. "Instincts suck ass... I was treating you like a recruit and not a friend..." She looked at me with stern eyes. "I'm sorry." I bent my neck and I bowed my head to her for forgiveness. I looked up a bit, her eyes were lit and her smile broad. I gave a grin in return as I lifted my head all the way up. "One of these days I'll remember to live in the present and not what we used to be." I patted the seat next to me with pleading eyes signaling her to sit.

"Can we check what's on the telly?", she asked as she grabbed the remote off the coffee table and proceeded to sit next to me. I nodded to her and she smiled again as she turned it on. She automatically went to MTV Euro.

"Eck!" I cringed at the image that took up the screen. His feminine face was plastered all over it, the 'famous' look he so terribly did not deserve. And that oh-so-deep voice rang true through the speakers with that disgusting song that he just had to write just so he could make all the girls swoon. It all just made me want to wretch! "He has no right to be famous like that. The only reason he is famous is cause..."

"Girls like me just love his image. We are in love with an image we can't have... I know, I know. How many times do you have to say it?" She looked at me with exhausted eyes.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, but that's all he is... just an image."

"Well I would fuck that 'image' any day!" She giggled as I threw a pillow at her head. She stopped giggling and bared her teeth with a hiss. She quickly covered her mouth with both hands. "I'm sorry Vinnegre...", she whispered looking to the carpet.

I lifted her head with my hand under her chin. "Hush now... you can slip up from time to time... just remember not to do it in public. People will look at you funny..." I paused and wondered if she would catch it... "Well... they already look at you funny!" She gave me a mock-hurt look as I began to crack up. She soon joined in on the laughter.

The time spent with her flipping through channels went slowly. She could never just settle on one thing. She held the remote tightly in her hand intent on finding another video from her favorite band. It really shouldn't have taken so long, they were basically everywhere. It was growing into hours for her search, and just then she turned on the news at exactly the right time.

"Front man of the internationally know band HIM has broken off the engagement with super model Jonna. Details to be told at 4!", the newsman said through the crappy television speakers. His cheesy grin and orange skin said it all: He had no idea what HIM was. The power went off and the screen flickered then dimmed to a dead black.

"SHIT!" Chainarra screamed throwing the remote across the room. It shattered on the wall.

"What?" I said looking at her terribly lit face. She seemed even more ghostly without the light on. The only part of her I could see before my eyes adjusted was the gleam of her teeth. "It's not like we can't see without the power."

"I can't find out if I'm going to be the next Mrs. Valo without the power." She grimaced in my direction.

I looked toward the rainy German day outside the window and noticed we were the only ones without power. Somehow, seeing that rain reminded me of the days that I served for Adolf and his inferior breed of soldiers. "Lestat? Lestat... you can come out now..." I heard something... something very familiar, something that I thought I'd never have to hear again. The cocking of a gun pointed at my head seemed to condense the air surrounding me. Then yet another familiar sound: the readying of a crossbow from across the room. Whomever held the bow was nervous to be in a room with such a high-ranking officer, I could here the piece vibrating as his hands shook.

"The spike, Vinnegre. We need the spike... I'm sorry about the way we have to go about this, but without that spike..." He swallowed hard "...we all die." His voice was deep and straight to the point, sharp as a knife, but it still slipped over like satin. This was not Lestat, never could that voice be mistaken for his.

"I'm not letting you bring him back, Lucas." I said sternly. "You can't... You haven't the faintest idea what he did to..."

"I know what he's done" He looked to the floor then back to me. "But he must be brought back to this world, if only to be kept in a steel box. The crimes he's committed against our kind shall not go unpunished, but without his body we cannot go about the punishment he deserves. Please Vinnegre... We need it." He dropped the pistol to his side and fell to his knees. He was clutching his side, almost reeling in pain. "Don't tell me you can't feel it. It's hitting us all differently, but it is hitting us all." he looked up at me ready to cry out in pain.

"Lucas..." I myself was ready to cry with him, knowing the pain he was going through. "I don't think it's right..." I stopped myself not really knowing what I should do. My silence lasted only a minute or so. "Do you promise me he will pay for his travesties?"

He nodded his head before standing to his feet. "Vinnegre, I can swear on my forever unborn child that he shall reap what he has sewn." He gave me a final look before I stood waiting for time to disappear as to make me never obtain the spike. "Power" he damn near screamed, it took about 3 seconds for the power came back on, flickering at first then slowing to a dim glow.

The television came on a few seconds later. I looked to Chainarra, she gave me a weak smile knowing I was about to kick her ass for even caring for a human the way she did. I walked right past her staring to the hand carved oak box that I had tried to forget existed. I had carved the etched words across it so many years ago trying to keep the evil that was inside locked away for all eternity, the spells and incantations had been filled in with dust and the gloss finish had faded away over a hundred years ago.

'Nacume buetougea faminallier couriqius' the indentations read over and over again on the lid warning all those who got close enough to read to stay away, forget they'd ever seen it. The language was as dead as me, and as forgotten as hope. My kind knew the language by heart for it was instilled in our blood, but humans could never decipher even the smallest symbol. I traced my fingers over the thick oak hoping I wouldn't have to open it; maybe I could just hand off the box to Lucas, but I took my hand off the box knowing this wouldn't be the case. Lucas' eyes cascaded over the box looking at it like the plague under a glass case; I could feel his cold breath growing quicker as he stood to the left of me. His partner in this held the crossbow for dear life; he acted as though there was something that would pop out at him. I wanted to look at him and tell him there was nothing to be afraid of, but my eyes wouldn't budge from the box and my mouth would not open.

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