Chapter 2 Forests Unknown

Comments: Most of this was all Amelia Atwater-Rhodes' work, the plot in this story is mine. My first fanfic! Read and Review! Comments! Criticism! Suggestions! Anything is helpful to Willowtear! Thank you to these people: Midnight Scribbler ShadowBlaze Krikoris moonlitdemon

They were my FIRST reviews! YAY! Hope you like this Chapter, sorry it took me so long to write. I've got school and sports and lots of other stuff to do. Rating G

The figure that had knocked down Aubrey smirked down at the unconscious lump on the ground he was now.

Soon he would wake, and the plan would not work. The unknown kicked him and the stronger mind put him in a sleep more permanent than he was in now.

He let his aura bleed into Aubrey's and he read the limp body's snatched thoughts. ' Risika, love, find, blood, Risika, find.' He laughed at Aubrey's thoughts. The black cloaked vampire bent to rest a finger on Aubrey's head, and they both disappeared. Once more, the man's black laughter filled the air.

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Risika woke from troubled sleep and changed tank tops to a glittery silver one. It is now morning, and she is one of the few vampires that stalk the day. She glides down the hall to her living room, startled by the roses that fall from the ceiling. She picks up one and they all turn to rose petals, fluttering softly in the breeze let in from the window.

Eyeing the only intact rose in the room, she notices the emerald green tips and smiles faintly. Her fangs shine in the moonlit room and she tries to remember ever feeling this way before.

'Risika, Risika, Risika, Risika, Risika'. The name rings in her mind like a thousand bells and the voice pains her. She grinds her teeth against the sound. 'Risika, Risika, Risika, Risika, Risika'. The thought is panicked and in no way a call. 'Risika, Risika, Risika, Risika, Risika'. She quickly raises a barrier against that voice. Putting her hands to her ears and shivering with the thought she had barricaded against.

She sits among the rose petals and thinks again of the strange green tip that edged the roses. She lifts the remaining rose up to her face and inhales the sweet aroma. As she sits thinking, the day passes and the edges of the sun pouring through her window turns the color of gold and deep blood.

She looks up and squeezes the rose tight to her. The thorn pricks her and her blood runs down her arm. The crimson river dulls her senses and she brushes it off of her arm, wiping it on her pants as she walks out the door.

Tired of the rose petals, she waves slender fingers at the building she just left and she felt their presence fade. She searches out into the night for the thought that had plagued her. She stalks out towards New Mayhem.