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Darkened Passions
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By Ash Night
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A/N: Updated and revised due to the help of my nit pick aka Julia. Yes, I did run out in the middle of the thunderstorm and I got wet.
Disclaimer: All of the characters belong to Amelia Atwater-Rhodes. The inspiration goes to the storm and a fellow author here in this section. *grins* My penname also belongs to Amelia Atwater-Rhodes... but I have recieved permission. :P Now on with the story!
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Brewing Storms
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A low rumble of thunder echoed through the night air. Why was he out here? Out in the midst of a storm? Sheets of rain poured onto his body, soaking his dark clothing. The constant wind whirled around him as the heavy splatters of wetness fell onto his skin. He didn't shuddered when he felt the full raindrops splash a brief freezing sensation on his burning skin.
It was pitch black outside except for the gray looming of storm clouds sulking in the sky. The only light came from the lightening that occasionally streaked across the sky. The soft rushing of water from a nearby stream twisted through the forest. The sound of rustling leaves surrounded him, trapping him with the noise.
Although he was free in the wilderness, he felt the suffocation of vulnerability wherever he went. A careless mistake had nearly cost him his life and gave him a heavy, permanent scar to his pride. It was a mixture of confidence and pride that made him vulnerable to a certain vampire. The predicament he found himself in was a vicious cycle of torture. There seemed to be no way out; no way to escape.
It had been a long time since that fate-altering fight in the Las Noches, but the memory of it was as vivid as the reality of the storm he was caught in. A bittersweet taste hung thickly in his mouth from his last prey. She had resembled Risika in more ways than one, and her agony of defeat was almost like a realistic victory to him. Her blood had tasted differently than the others…. it was bittersweet.
Aubrey abhorred her with a fiery, zealous passion, which he assumed either equaled or surpassed hers for him. The fact that he was now weaker than her disgusted him. That was why he had jumped at the chance to kill the look-a-like Risika who had wandered so boldly in the dark streets of the dangerous city.
The thundering had stopped suddenly along with the streaks of lightening and deep thunder. The rain was also lighting up. Now, it was reduced only to a constant shower of gentle sprinkles that generally appeared after the heart of a storm.
He remembered what it was like to be more powerful than her – to be the dominant figure that gave her fear. He remembered his taunts and threats that would ring in her ears. The rage that gleamed in her eyes whenever he was around reminded him of his bitter cruelness, especially towards her. The streaks of harsh black through her blonde hair after he had killed her beloved Tora showed him the love she could possibly posses for a fellow caged creature.
He remembered when he was pinned to the floor of the Las Noches by the tiger that was Risika. The claws had dug into his arms and legs. The fear that had chilled his veins caused him to shudder slightly -- completely defenseless and at the mercy of a creature that completely despised him. What had he done wrong? The desperation for life had made him nearly beg for his own. The possibility of his life ending so soon had been too much for him….
"I do not want it to
end yet... I offer you my blood..."
What flashed through her mind when his words echoed into her? Was it the shred of humanity that he had cautioned against? Or was it the statistical gain? Whatever it was, it indeed persuaded her to indeed take his blood.
He winced when he relived the painful memory. Her tiger form had changed into her human one. She was physically weaker then. Her lips had been pressed against his neck when he felt the sharp sting of her long fangs. She had been in the trance that all vampires experience when feeding.
Why did he not throw her off then? What kept him to be her prey?
When she had finished, Risika had picked up his knife. She had pondered the possibilities for a brief moment. The decision had been hers, and he could not do a thing about it. Would she be the monster he had so encouraged her to be? Or would she still have the conscience he so discouraged against? She had chosen to let him live. The bitter irony could almost seem humorous in a different perspective, but he did not share that point of view.
Rage filled, Aubrey traced the faint scar he had received from her. His blood had been his payment for the deaths of Alexander and Tora. He later discovered from another vampire that Alexander was a Triste and was therefore still alive. His blood had been used to pay for the death of the dumb beast. Damn her. It was a high price, and he had been the one to offer it for a life, which would never be the same.
The rain had almost stopped. The thick humidity flooded the air, drowning the essence of life. The calmness after the storm left an eerie sensation on the bystanders. The tranquility seemed so unexpected especially after the raging storm that it seemed to swallow the world in a mist of disorientation. It was too quiet... too still….
He looked up to the sky. The heavy gray clouds began to fade away, leaving behind pinpricks of starlight on a background of unearthly black. The moon peered out from the gray masses, shining its silver glowing light. He had come here because he felt the deadening attachment of Jessica, his fledgling. She held tightly onto him and had almost made herself a nuisance. The everlasting love had been reduced to fondness, over time.
Jessica failed to acknowledge the lack of passion in his forced embraces and kisses. She was too naive and young to understand that the excitement of a new "toy" would wear off as time passes. She may have even written about vampires who have lost interest in their fledglings, but she wanted something that wasn't there so desperately that her mind managed to fool any doubts.
Aubrey stood there, contemplating about his situation with her. He wanted someone new, passionate, and fiery -- someone who could understand….
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A/N: There are quite a few metaphores and anologies here. Probably not that many similies since I'm not too fond of them. (The sky looked like lumpy porriage.) Anyway, if you've read carefully, you would probably already know *who* Aubrey is thinking about. *grins* This is likely to turn out to be a rather dark... and *possibly* a rather distasteful fic... which will probably remind you of bittersweet chocolate. Mind you, my left hand shift key does not work... so I have taught myself how to be dependent on the righthand shift key... *stupid old laptop*
Anyway, review... It inspires me and it encourages me to write. You have no idea how happy it makes an author receive a review. A single review brightens up my day and constructive critisism is always welcome... Now if I can only spell with out spell check... Flames will be ignored and discarded according to the Sun Screen song. Now stop reading and review! :)
