Blood Pact
by Black Wisteria
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st;
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
- William Shakespeare
Her flaxen colored hair instinctively fell from the once tight bun, tears forming in her verdant colored eyes. The child's petite form lied in the cold carpet, blood oozing from the being lying beneath her.
"Mother..." her soft voice whispered.
No reply.
"Please Mother... Wake up..."
Again, no reply.
The tip of her cerise colored gown was now tainted with the distinct color of crimson, the jade-eyed youth wept more, not noticing that her mother bore two vague puncture in her pallid neck. Her mother's dry blood decorated in her skin.
As the young girl shed tears for the cold corpse, she heard loud echoes of men and women calling her name. Blaring footsteps threatening to steal her lamentation. A gust of cold wind blew her long tresses. Holding herself, she cried once more.
Inaudible footsteps approached her. A man of early twenties stood in front of her, wiping her tears, she began to look up to the mysterious stranger.
The man wore an obscure cloak around his shoulders, his dark eyes gazing at her mother. Kneeling down to her level, his hands began to travel to her neck; stopping at the exact position where the punctures were.
The child gasped.
Those monsters bit her mother. Monsters who haunted their town during the night. Blood creatures she called them, for they feast on blood from her people. She didn't believe at first, old wives tale she calls it, yet it was true. Two marks proving that her mother's life force, drained out of her.
The man with raven colored hair began to rise from his position; his umber orbs were passive, almost lifeless.
The little girl spotted a smear of dry blood from the stranger's cheek. She paused; Pale skin, placid eyes and small blood trails from his cheeks. What did it mean?
The young lass's deep contemplation halted when he began to speak, words that were almost a murmur. "I'm too late." The man breathed, the bland girl began to tremble, she saw it; His teeth were different. Like those of the blood creatures her late mother told her about. This man was one of them. Monsters, Murderers.
A cold shiver run down her spine when the man's eyes glowered at her, the young girl's legs became numb. She wanted to scream, but no voice came.
His hands began to rise from the air, traveling to her pale cheeks, caressing her gently.
"Such a pretty thing." He taunted.
The raven-haired man drew near, closing her celadon orbs, she waited for the worse.
"Miss Hitomi! Where are you?"
Opening her eyelids slowly, she felt no more of the cold and surreptitious sensation she felt earlier. The man was gone and so was her mother's body. A necklace lied on the blood-bathed carpet, the gold chain held a single tear-shaped stone; tinged with the color of blood. The necklace was of her mothers'; the only heirloom to every eldest daughter of the Kanzaki clan.
Regaining her composure from the earlier events, the youth reached for the pendant and wore it. Ire, consuming her heart.
A plump woman in her mid thirties came galloping, gasping shrilly at the sight below her impassive ward.
"Where have you gone little lady? You're father hadear mother of god!"
Grasping the minute hand of the young girl, she carried her away from the morbid sight, wailing words of abet.
Tears erased from her fair face, she clasped her new heirloom in ablaze. Her innocent nature transfigured to a malevolence notion.
Revenge.