Forever Fatal
Chapter One
His foot kicked a stone across the cobble-stone road, and he staggered. With his hands out to his sides, he regained his composure, and stumbled further along the path. Anyone within a ten foot radius of him would smell him, smell the stench of alcohol and smoke about him. This night was a dark night; the moon was barely out, frequently blocked by the black clouds in the sky.
Mundungus Fletcher turned a corner, holding himself against a brick wall. He rested for a moment, leaning all his weight against the closed store. He should not have had that shot of whiskey, or was it two? Three?
He took in a deep breath of the cold night air, and sunk down onto the ground. How was he going to make it to Grimmauld Place like this?
In the distance he could hear footsteps, or maybe it wasn't distant. He looked up and through the light London fog and he swore he could see a dark figure moving his way. Weakly, he attempted to get up, but failed and gave up, assuming whoever it was would not even notice him anyway.
Mundungus tried not to look, but for some reason, he could not help himself. As the person got closer, he could see how they glided with such ease and grace, in the most elegant manner. The rhythmic clicking of their shoes against the cobble-stone was hypnotic, and he found himself unable to cease from staring.
"Hello there."
It was a woman, a woman with the most musical voice he'd ever heard. He could not see her face, the hood of her cloak shadowed her, but he could see her smile. It warmed him, despite the frigid winter wind. He could not think to speak, he could barely think to breath.
"Are you alright?" She asked most politely in her melodic voice.
He nodded, and clumsily tried to rise to his feet. With the support of the brick wall he managed. Just then the moon peeked through the black clouds, and he could see her face.
She was beautiful, the most perfect woman he had ever laid eyes upon. Her skin was pale and luminescent like the moon above. Her mouth curved into a gentle and warm smile. Black hair whipped out from beneath the hood of her cloak. Her eyes were a rich auburn, almost red, and full of concern. He could not look away.
She stepped toward him, and unlike most, did not flinch away from his heavy stench of liquor. From beneath the sleeves of her cloak, she reached out a pale white hand, and stroked his face, inching closer still. She was going to kiss him, she wanted him. He could not blieve this was happening.
Just inches from his nose, she tilted his head with her hand, and went straight for his neck. What was she doing? His heart was racing, he could feel himself panic. He felt her breath on his throat as she opened her mouth with a hiss.
"ELIZABETH!"
Suddenly she was gone from in front of him, and he blinked and saw her on the cobble-stone road, struggling to free herself from someone who had just attacked her. The mysterious man pinned her to the ground, holding her down. She gripped his shoulders and, with a single thrust, threw him aside like a rag doll. Before Mundungus could register what was happening, she had him by his collar against the brick wall. His toes searched for the ground and found nothing but air.
"Elizabeth, you know the rules." The man was up, standing next to her, his face calm and collected. His only attempt now to restrain her was a pale hand on her shoulder. "Release the human."
"SHUT UP DAMEON!" She hissed. "He's a pathetic drunk, no one will miss him." She smiled, but this smile was not warm, it was dark, it was maniacal.
"What?!" He cried, struggling against her grip. "No, don't kill me, you don't want me, really!"
"SHUT IT!" She cried, slamming him against the wall.
"Elizabeth, we agreed." Dameon whispered.
She was struggling, thinking hard, trying to decide.
"Carmen agreed, not I." She glared at Mundungus, licking her lips. "Not all of us can suppress our nature."
"We have to, its for the good of our kind." He sighed, "Elizabeth, be reasonable."
"Please." Mundungus choked. "Please let me go."
"SILENCE!" Mundungus screamed in pain as Elizabeth smacked him back against the wall, harder this time. His head hit the brick with tremendous force, and he heard it crack.
Then he felt liquid dripping down his neck. Everything suddenly clicked, who they were, what they wanted, and that they were going to kill him.
Before he could take another breath, he felt a sharp pain stabbing into his neck. He tried to scream, but soon after there was another pain in his right leg. He no longer heard the other man arguing with the woman, he feared he'd given up. He could almost feel the life being drawn from him, bit by bit.
Dameon forced himself back, covering his mouth and nose with one hand.
"The Dark Lord will not be pleased."
