Immortal shadows
Authors notes: I hold no claims to any of the characters. This is just an idea I got in my head on a boring day at school. Reviews welcome. Flames only keep me warm in winter.
Warnings: Rated PG-13 for horror, violence, and supernatural elements. Might contain mild sexual content later on.
Chapter Two
When Peter first opened his eyes, all he saw was blinding white. He groaned in pain and blinked twice to make everything come into perspective. It was then he realized that he was lying in his own bed.
"Must have been a nightmare." He murmured. There was a knock on the door.
"Peter, darling, art thou awake?" It was his Mother's sweet voice. The door opened slowly and Peter forced a smile onto his face.
"Yes, Mother." She clasped her hands together and smiled sadly. For a moment, she just remained where she was, then almost ran over to his bed, taking her only son into her embrace. Peter was rather surprised as he felt his Mother's slender figure shaking with sobs.
"Oh, my darling!" She half-sobbed, half-sighed. "Oh my darling, thy Father and mine self, we were so scared. Bishop John was ready to declare thee deceased. 'Tis but a miracle thou art alive and breathing!"
"I am afraid I don't understand, Mother…" Peter was feeling confused. His Mother didn't answer but instead embraced him again. Feeling drained, Peter relaxed into her gentle embrace, burying his face in the crook of her ivory neck. Suddenly, the strangest sensations began to wash over him. He found himself craving to do something.
"I thirst." He whispered. His Mother loosened her embrace.
"What didst thou say, my darling?"
"I thirst." He repeated, gripping her waist. "I thirst…for blood!" The sensations continued to wash over him, stronger than ever until, quite suddenly, they overtook his reason and he sank his newly acquired fangs into the slender neck of his own Mother. She didn't scream, but instead gave a short gasp before going completely limp in his arms.
Then, just as suddenly, the sensations disappeared, along with his fangs and Peter was left sitting on his bed, his Mother lying dead on his lap with two scarlet pinpricks on her neck from his fangs.
"Oh my God! W-what hast I done?" He felt like screaming but only managed in emitting a choked cry before breaking down and crying hysterically.
A thud distracted Peter from his misery. Tears still trickling down his cheeks, he lifted his chestnut head and found himself staring at Hooks sitting on the ledge of his window.
"Help me!" He pleaded, his voice little more than a rasp.
"But I hast already done so, Peter." Hooks answered calmly. "I hast granted thee thy deepest desires. For now thou ist, and thou shalt ever remain a youthful childe of the night."
"Childe of the night? I do not follow…"
"Thou art no longer a mortal human being, but an immortal vampire." Hooks was patient in his explaining and even more with Peter's reaction. The youth moaned raggedly.
"A vampire? It cannot be!!! Vampires are put to death here. I shall be dead before the week is out…"
"'Twill not happen, Peter, for draining thy Mother of her life source has declared your desire to be an immortal one."
"No! No!" Peter wailed. "I love my Mother! I never had any intentions of doing such a thing! 'Twas as if mine spirit were possessed by another!" Tears continued to fall freely. Hooks watched him, no expression on his gaunt face. He raised a thin, pale hand for silence.
"Thy tears will not bring her back, Peter. She departed from this world the very moment thy fangs pierced her neck. But worry not, for she is at peace and suffered very little."
"How canst thou tell me not to worry?" Peter shrieked. "I have taken the life of my beloved Mother, and have become an immortal creature in the time span of one night! The townspeople shall thirst to see my blood spilt because of mine atrocities, and thou hast the nerve to tell me not to worry?"
"Silence, young Peter!" Hooks commanded. "Now, cease thy worrying and pay attention. First of all, people shall assume thy Mother died naturally for thy fang marks are so insignificant the Bishop shall miss them or dismiss them as bites from a bug. Second of all, thou shalt not be detained by the townspeople for thou wilt follow me to the Land of Immortal Shadows, a place where the mortal are unable to cross the threshold of and the immortal dwell during the hours of the townspeople."
"Just where is this land?" Peter demanded. He was beginning to relax as the fresh blood coursed through his once-human body, dulling his worry and drowning his depression. Hooks smiled, revealing two sharp white fangs. He gestured towards the stars outside of the window.
"Cease your games, Hooks!" Peter snapped irritably. "All I see are the stars and their constellations, no land or gateway."
"Aah! 'Tis the beauty of this land, Peter." Hooks answered smoothly. "The gateway has been concealed in such a way that only immortals such as us have the power to find and pass through it!"
"So, thou ist telling me that nobody of mortal life has the ability to perceive or cross into this land?" Peter asked, growing excited. "While I dwell in this land I am safe from the angry hands of mortals?"
"Correct."
"When may I see this land?" Hooks smiled.
"Right away." Peter's emerald eyes widened in astonishment. "We should leave right now though, Peter, for once the mortals stir and sunrise is upon us, we shall no longer be safe in London."
"Then right away is when we shall leave!" Peter urged, standing up. "But how, in the name of God, dost we cross the threshold of a land that is concealed somewhere within the constellations?" Hooks grabbed him by the arm and took him towards the window.
"We shall fly." He answered, hovering easily in mid-air. "Simply perceive that thou ist capable of flying under the stars, young Peter, and thou shalt be capable of doing so, for there be many things those of immortal being are capable of."