Hello Again! Here is the next chapter to 'Beasts fear men, Men love beasts'!
I'm really excited, we're getting into action quite quickly! Haha, although this shorter chapter, I will most likely have the next chapter (3) up very soon! I just couldn't not upload this!
I hope you all enjoy this chapter and thank you so much to Davs and Dishon! Really appreciate the support, I would love so much for any feedback! Feedback, reviews and things like that are the best gifts you can give to a writer, so please do not hesitate to tell me what you think!
Have a wonderful Morning/Day/Night!
A mill, toy shop, and Nazairi Man
She had jumped speedily into a smaller sailboat, following the current flowing South. She sat impatiently and determined, waiting for something to catch her eye. For the first time, in many years; she was not focused on the environment surrounding her, not the castle in the distance that stood out with beautiful color and design, nor her own personal and perhaps selfish motives.
It was then, a magnetic pull; stronger than falling from a great height; grasped her attention. An old mill, a lonely, crumbling, collapsing mill. She steered her boat softly with the tide, directly to the jetty that also seemed unstable. However, there was no time for caution. She was quick to tie the floating wood to the post, not caring to secure it properly. The echo of her boots clearing the eerie silence, that almost- almost condemned her to turn back. Her tiny form contrasted painfully with the areas color, tone, and voice. This was not what she was meant to do, not what she was born to do, but she hid her true ideals and hopes, as well as the familiar crush within her chest. Fear.
Swallowing a tedious amount of saliva, Aubrey shuffled extremely and suddenly with prudence. Fingers latching at the tip of the elven sword hilt, ready to use even if it would have no effect; although no company seemed to be existent, she couldn't just barge in. Her shoes left distinct marks upon the wet sand, the straining noise of crushed grain gripping her ears, as she continued to shuffle towards the entrance of the mill.
She found herself holding in agitated coughs, as to not startle any possible suspects that may not know she is there. The dust and vapors of the mill, pulled at her lungs, causing a hand to cover her nose and mouth, keeping away the corrupted particles. Soon, she found herself gradually taking silent steps, traversing the square spiral of stairs. The squeak of wood, striking fear in her heart. Pressure from a large object, walking around the top floor … oh hell.
She quietly slid the sword from her sheath, handling it with strength and grip. The other hand, working on lifting her medallion, ready for it to violently shake in recognition of some form of magic. As she furthered higher and higher, time slowing from the adrenaline in her veins, no movement came from her medallion. She was faced with the emptiness of a room, the light shining through the opening allowing the dust particles to become extremely visible.
And that is when she gasped, her brown eyes followed the trailing of blood. The dried pool of red, sitting under the warm sun. Not only the sight paused her from breathing and movement, not only did the passive stain hit her heart sharply; it was the fact that she knew she was not alone. She felt its presence, somewhere in the attic like room. Tears pierced and stung her eyes, why did she do this? Why did she have to be so impulsive at times?
'I am here …' She whimpered at his voice, his soft whisper. Rotating to the position of his presence, his aura of darkness. Holding out the saber, pointing, she could not help but relieve a loud gasp. In truth, when she first witnessed his appearance, much fear and horror dispersed, however, did not disappear completely.
'I would advise against running,' He spoke calmly, almost smirking as her legs readied themselves to sprint, her body already facing the exit that might, in fact, have killed her from the fall. 'I will not hurt you … that is if you explain why you meddle here.'
'Why did you do it?' She asked slowly, her very words seeping in confusion and anger. His dark, yet pale eyes glaring deeply at her. He didn't seem one prone to impulsiveness or animalistic behavior. He was rather noble in appearance, beautiful in a strange way.
'Your question has no context, girl. I must remind you, I was the one to be asking questions. I will not ask again, why is it you are here?'
'I think you know … I'm here because of you, you've killed three already?'
'Hmm, that will soon be four if you try anything?' He conveyed in dark humor, as she prepared her fighting stance. Aubrey instantly knew she could not threaten this man … dropping the sword and stance within moments.
'There, no impulsive actions from me. Please answer just tell me ... why are you killing these people? You're not doing it on a sadistic whim, there's a personal motive, that's for certain.' She replied, now with an almost kind and patient tone. She wanted to get as much information as possible and stay alive.
She watched as he smiled with a sigh, glancing over her wolf medallion, and then lingering on her face. A recognition swiftly passing his handsome features. However, she could not recognize his face, could not connect it to someone she may have met, or even passed by on an afternoon walk.
'Tell me … Aubrey, why would I desire to tell you such personal knowledge?' He chuckled, sauntering gracefully, flawlessly to just inches from her form. His gray eyes piercing hers, neck tilting just enough to perfectly light his every detail.
She whimpered once more, noticing the marks of age that still managed to make him appear young, naïve in a sense. 'How do you know my name?' She muttered, her voice but a disarray of air.
'Call it a mutual friend … I've heard much of you; quite fondly might I add.' He smirked, multiple dimples forming within his light skin, remarkable color in contrast to his jet-black hair. The creaks of the floor board only loudening, as he circled her. He reminded her of a panther, oddly enough. The exotic lilt in his voice, the overly dark hair and clothing, the swiftness and grace of his every movement and sound. He was stealth in physical form.
'Who?!' She questioned with no anxiety, spinning to face his monotonous expression. He shook his head, motioning to leave her entirely, giving her no choice but to grab his hand. He stopped in his tracks within seconds, and with a flash of hue had the same hand tightly at her throat. Her eyes widened fiercely, her cheeks glowing red, red the same intensity of the very blood that adorned the timber. He frowned deeply, studying her, or at least along those lines, as she focused her breaths and attention on his flickering eyes.
'A toy shop, Sans Sebastian, midnight … I will know if you bring company. I shall enlighten you of our friend there.' And so, Aubrey de la Savant was left alone, as the man dark as night, transformed into a blood mist, flying from her very sight. Out of sight, out of mind … however, that was not the case for her.
This was not the end of their meeting, and deep down, even with guilt; she was somewhat happy that was the case. This was no beast of Beauclair, this was a mystery. There was something more dangerous at work, and he … he was a higher vampire. She knew a higher vampire once, loved one, although the feelings were not mutual, tragically enough… and that is when it hit her.
'It can't be?'