Title: Firestorms of Fear
Author: Topaz Wolf - co written with Christa Weald
Email: TopazWolf@yahoo.co.uk / vampyrehunter@yahoo.co.uk
Spoilers: Night World
Disclaimers: All ideas of Night World belong to LJ Smith. This fic is based on a character I play in the Clan Tempest RPG. All concepts and ideas behind Clan Tempest and Kisses of Lethe belong to Heather Trend (Layla_Austica_Tempest@yahoo.co.uk) and are used with permission. More information on both groups can be found at http://www.geocities.comtempestsisters/ or http://www.goecities.com/kissesoflethe.com
Rating: 15
Summary: Tiarina wakes held captive in a strange place with no memories of how she got there. She learns right away she is more than just a Night Person. But what is she? And why can't she remember anything. Her entire life depends on recovering her lost memories.
Notes: feedback appreciated.
Part 1
The cloak of darkness was slowly starting to lift. Tiarina's throat felt starched and dry as sandpaper. What had happened to her? She shivered as she came to full consciousness. Yet it was no comfort as darkness greeted her again. Darkness and a feel of cool silk on her smooth skin. A breeze was blowing from an open window somewhere.
She sat up, blinking several times, trying to clear her hazy vision. What the hell was the matter with her? She didn't remember ever feeling this awful before. Well, that was a lie, but she couldn't remember why. In fact, she couldn't remember a lot else, apart from her name. Which she was sure wasn't her real one.
How very odd.
She sat up, brushing her fringe out her eyes, trying to at least get some sense of where she was, if anything. She heard a clanging sound. ^Keys^ her mind told her. A figure was slowly coming into the room. Tiarina tried to see who.
She got the uncomfortable impression that this person was deliberately trying to confuse her. The person held out a gold plated cup to her. "Drink this."
Tiarina frowned, but took the cup. The liquid inside made her throat burn with an ice coldness. She tried to hand the cup back, but it was shoved in her hands again. The person grabbed her chin and forced the rest of it down her throat. "*All*," he said harshly.
Tiarina gulped it down, shivering violently. "What's going on? Who are you?"
A cold laughter. "Feeling bad? Good. You left when you shouldn't have. You have to be punished for that. Once I'm through you'll wonder how you ever managed to live without me."
The person - the guy - bent over and kissed her softly, his lips dry and scratchy on hers. She tried to push him away, but was weak as a newborn kitten. The guy turned and left the room. A key turned in the door.
Tiarina spent the next few days slipping in and out a befuddled state of consciousness. At least twice every day she was forced to take in the vile potion. On the fourth day, her mind cleared, though it was of little comfort.
She could see clearly where she was - a circular room with a four-poster bed covered in purple and black silken sheets. There was a single large window that looked out on to a large expanse of the well-manicured lawns of a rich person's mansion. She was dressed in an extremely slutty black silk nightgown. There was a wooden wardrobe with a large full length mirror on the inside of the door. There was a single desk with a metal lamp, and a dressing table with makeup and perfume bottles on. A second door opened to a lush bathroom decorated in white and pale blue with a bathtub, toilet, shower and sink.
Tiarina paused in front of one of the mirrors, studying her reflection. Her cheekbones were high, her nose small, her hair was shoulder length, a rich reddish-brown, her eyes a bright clear blue. So she knew what she looked like.
Why couldn't she *remember* anything?
She thought of the man coming into her room. He was only a few inches taller than she was, and not very muscular, his hair was long and browny-blond, tied back in a neat ponytail, he always dressed elegantly. He said he had to punish her, and she wouldn't want to ever leave him.
He was the key to the whole thing, she was sure of it. ^Who are you?^ she thought. Her entire life depended on finding out.
* * *
Author: Topaz Wolf - co written with Christa Weald
Email: TopazWolf@yahoo.co.uk / vampyrehunter@yahoo.co.uk
Spoilers: Night World
Disclaimers: All ideas of Night World belong to LJ Smith. This fic is based on a character I play in the Clan Tempest RPG. All concepts and ideas behind Clan Tempest and Kisses of Lethe belong to Heather Trend (Layla_Austica_Tempest@yahoo.co.uk) and are used with permission. More information on both groups can be found at http://www.geocities.comtempestsisters/ or http://www.goecities.com/kissesoflethe.com
Rating: 15
Summary: Tiarina wakes held captive in a strange place with no memories of how she got there. She learns right away she is more than just a Night Person. But what is she? And why can't she remember anything. Her entire life depends on recovering her lost memories.
Notes: feedback appreciated.
Part 1
The cloak of darkness was slowly starting to lift. Tiarina's throat felt starched and dry as sandpaper. What had happened to her? She shivered as she came to full consciousness. Yet it was no comfort as darkness greeted her again. Darkness and a feel of cool silk on her smooth skin. A breeze was blowing from an open window somewhere.
She sat up, blinking several times, trying to clear her hazy vision. What the hell was the matter with her? She didn't remember ever feeling this awful before. Well, that was a lie, but she couldn't remember why. In fact, she couldn't remember a lot else, apart from her name. Which she was sure wasn't her real one.
How very odd.
She sat up, brushing her fringe out her eyes, trying to at least get some sense of where she was, if anything. She heard a clanging sound. ^Keys^ her mind told her. A figure was slowly coming into the room. Tiarina tried to see who.
She got the uncomfortable impression that this person was deliberately trying to confuse her. The person held out a gold plated cup to her. "Drink this."
Tiarina frowned, but took the cup. The liquid inside made her throat burn with an ice coldness. She tried to hand the cup back, but it was shoved in her hands again. The person grabbed her chin and forced the rest of it down her throat. "*All*," he said harshly.
Tiarina gulped it down, shivering violently. "What's going on? Who are you?"
A cold laughter. "Feeling bad? Good. You left when you shouldn't have. You have to be punished for that. Once I'm through you'll wonder how you ever managed to live without me."
The person - the guy - bent over and kissed her softly, his lips dry and scratchy on hers. She tried to push him away, but was weak as a newborn kitten. The guy turned and left the room. A key turned in the door.
Tiarina spent the next few days slipping in and out a befuddled state of consciousness. At least twice every day she was forced to take in the vile potion. On the fourth day, her mind cleared, though it was of little comfort.
She could see clearly where she was - a circular room with a four-poster bed covered in purple and black silken sheets. There was a single large window that looked out on to a large expanse of the well-manicured lawns of a rich person's mansion. She was dressed in an extremely slutty black silk nightgown. There was a wooden wardrobe with a large full length mirror on the inside of the door. There was a single desk with a metal lamp, and a dressing table with makeup and perfume bottles on. A second door opened to a lush bathroom decorated in white and pale blue with a bathtub, toilet, shower and sink.
Tiarina paused in front of one of the mirrors, studying her reflection. Her cheekbones were high, her nose small, her hair was shoulder length, a rich reddish-brown, her eyes a bright clear blue. So she knew what she looked like.
Why couldn't she *remember* anything?
She thought of the man coming into her room. He was only a few inches taller than she was, and not very muscular, his hair was long and browny-blond, tied back in a neat ponytail, he always dressed elegantly. He said he had to punish her, and she wouldn't want to ever leave him.
He was the key to the whole thing, she was sure of it. ^Who are you?^ she thought. Her entire life depended on finding out.
* * *