Disclaimer: Technically, I own nothing in this world. My mother and father
made me, so my body isn't really mine. I am possessed by a demon that was
kicked out of hell, so I don't own my brain either. Anything I make, do, or
say, has been a product of my mind or body. And since I don't own them, I
don't own anything in this world. It's a pretty depressing outlook on life,
when one believes one does not belong to one's self, and that whatever one
creates in this world does not belong to oneself either. Well, the point is
that I do not own D. I do not own the world, much to my despair, and will
never be able to, which is disappointing enough. This is getting to be a
really long disclaimer, so perhaps I should stop. I will try, if possible,
to explain in detail my world domination plans later.
***
Steam wafted from the cyber-horse's metallic nostrils. Its ears flashed gold light, as they twitched to catch the whimpering sounds of the figure in front of it. It blinked curiously and took one cautious step forward. It was a female. The horse took another sniff. Then, it snorted as a flood of vampire and blood exploded in its senses. Shaking its head nervously, it made to move backwards, but D stopped it with a simple flick upon the reins. The horse halted, but its eyes still rolled wildly.
D studied the girl with distant eyes. He tried to ignore the fact that blood drenched everything on her. Well, to be exact, the blood drenched the body below her. She, herself, was bedecked in vivid rubies. Her hair, cut messily short, was not matted with the liquid, as one would expect, but kissed delicately with bead-like gems. A tattered, dark silver windbreaker was tied around her like a satchel. A gun lay on the dust beside the body on the ground.
It was her clothes, though, that made her unearthly. A loose white shirt and extremely baggy pants hung from her frame. Mud, blood, and God knows what else was caked in layers upon what once must have been untainted white. What kind of girl goes into a pitch-black wood at night infested with man-eating creatures wearing a glowing bright white? Not a very smart one.
Then she lifted her head in surprise. D wondered if his horse was that silent when galloping. He doubted it. Her eyes caught his, she gazed at him, seeming to calculate his every movement, his every reaction, his every thought. The intensity of the power from her dark brown eyes captured him. Her eyes lingered to the sword's hilt upon his back. Then the dark brown slowly caressed his hands, his body, his face. She couldn't possibly be human.
As if to prove that last thought false, those same intense eyes flickered and melted into despairing tears. They rolled down her bloodstained cheeks, leaving shining trails on her now sobbing face. D half-lidded eyes never flickered, but now he was on guard. If she could change from the strong to the weak that fast, it had to be a deception of some sort.
"Don't hurt me!" she screamed at him when he threw his black cloak to one side. "Get away! Get away!"
Then she shrieked fear as he dismounted from the black cyber-horse. He made no move towards her; instead he calmed his horse by laying a cool, pale hand between its red eyes. The movement seemed to calm her as well. She quieted, noiselessly sobbing into tightly rolled fists. Her eyes were wide and frightened as she turned to stare upon the body beside her.
D did not turn to look at her. He watched her through the reflection of the robotic eyes. Once she stopped trembling did he turn to her. She hugged her knees. The white still visible on the sleeves made her tanned arms gleam golden and streaked with bright crimson.
"Is he dead?" she whispered. The question was not exactly directed towards him; her eyes were unfocused, as though reliving some far off memory.
Then. . . "Am I dead?" she said louder. Panic edged her voice. "Did you come to finish me off? Like they finished him? Did you?" she demanded, her cries became increasingly frantic, as D walked slowly towards her. His cloak spun around him, as though he were some demon shifting through a portal from hell into the sunlit day.
"Please. . ." she lowered her eyes and whispered up at him, as he stood like a looming shadow above her. If this was an act, she was wearing the best mask he had ever seen. His hand, slender and gentle, reached for her bowed head. He slowed his breathing, which had quickened at sight of what type of puddle she was kneeling in. For one awful moment, his control slipped, and his eyes flared red. He heard her blood pulse as though her blood also flowed through him. The lust passed, or rather, it was suppressed. The volume of her heartbeat reduced to a more controllable level of noise.
***
(Change in point of view, but same scene. Sorry if you get confused.)
"Don't touch me. Please. Don't get near me. Stay away. . . away. . ." she faltered when a cool fingertip pressed against her forehead. It soothed her, and she fell silent. She relaxed, and almost lost her grip on her false facial expression. What the hell was this hunter doing to her?
Forget it. She didn't really want to know anyway. All she needed, was for him to be non-existent. She would be able to arrange that very quickly.
Clearing her mind, her expression changed again. She kept her face lowered, so he would not be able to see her smile. The familiar ache returned to her throat. Her lips unleashed the untamed energy within her.
***
D drew back his hand from her as though he were burned. Was she. . . smiling? Then he lost all sense of thought and time as her lips parted beckoning him to forget all.
One by one, all his thoughts and instincts became blurred and obscure. Even memories he forgot he still had were dampened by a heavy veil that threatened to smother his past. All faces became indistinguishable from one another. All the battles he had ever fought became a jumble of muffled clashing swords. All the times of pain and hurt and agony. . .
At first he fought this, and he physically gripped her by the shirt and threw her farther down the road, to free the hold she had upon his mind.
Bruised even further, she angrily faced him with red streaked eyes after she rolled to a stop. The energy folded into words, the magic concentrated and saturating.
"Open up your mind,
Let your fantasies unwind,
In this darkness which you know you cannot fight-
The darkness of
The music of the night. . ."
Sunlight pounded on him along with the words that dripped with enchantments. He fell to his knees, as she rose up to stand superior above him. His hands clamped over his ears, but there was no way to stop the song from ringing in his flesh, his blood, his bones. His normally still face contorted to reveal the battle within him.
***
She watched with satisfaction as he fought. She knew this one would be strong. They rarely ever struggled. This could end up as mildly entertaining. So she continued.
"Let your mind
Start a journey through a
Strange, new world!
Leave all thoughts
Of the world
You knew before!
Let your soul
Take you where you
Long to be!
Only then
Can you belong
To me. . ."
She suppressed the bloodlust; she never drank from hunters. She would never let their tainted life force into her. They deserved to have their throats slashed, no better than dogs. She fumbled with the dagger's sheath she had retrieved from her "bag." As soon as she removed its cover, she circled the hunter. Still singing, she removed his sword from the sheath on his back. Promptly, she dropped it. She cursed inwardly, but kept singing. She picked it back up and flung it into the woods. Well, she tried to chuck it in the woods, but it fell not three feet from her. Damn, how could he carry that infernal thing? How could he even lift it? She circled around him, like a hunter to her prey.
***
"Floating, falling,
Sweet intoxication!
Touch me,"
She ran a finger mockingly down his clenched jaw.
"Trust me,"
Her lengthening nails cut into one cheek.
"Savor each sensation!"
Four lines cried red drops, and a slight shudder ran through his body.
"Let the dream begin,
Let your darker side give in"
The blood fell into the corner of his mouth. His entire body became rigid with holding back the desire. A hunger he must prevent from consuming him. It was a thirst that he could not remember why he still had to hold back.
To the power of
The music of the night. . ."
He could hardly move; he felt her draining his energy. He removed his left hand from his ear. And with one swift, smooth movement, he caught her wrist with the hand and tightened.
She swiped at him with her dagger, a reflexive movement. Through the enchantment, he saw real fear fill her eyes. She writhed against him, squirming, her forgotten dagger landing on the dirt with a dull thud his mind could barely register.
She screamed. Loud and shrill, she broke the spell, and he wrapped his arms around her. The volume increased. He held her tighter, as he stood. Suddenly she went limp and the hysterical screeches silenced. He did not move to release her.
He arched his neck to see her face. It was blank, tearless and without feeling. It looked like his own. He stiffened as she began to thrash again, whimpers of pain escaped her. It was as though she were reliving something, some stifled recollection. Then, once again, she quieted. Was this another deception? Was this just another mask?
Still unmoving, she wailed. A lone call weaved with the sunlight; a cry of defeat, a cry of loss, and a cry of shame.
The suffering someone must've endured to make a sound like that. . . D did not want to hear it. He did not want to feel pity, especially for something that was not real. He crushed her unexpectedly, until the air had whooshed out of her in a hoarse cough. A dark arm smothered her mouth and nose, while another hand pressed against her throat. She welcomed the darkness, which offered her a short respite from the past.
D slung the unconscious girl over his horse, which had been unaffected by the song, then leaped beside her on the saddle.
"We still should have followed the vampire." Left said as they galloped down the road, opposite the direction of the vampire.
Who was this girl?
***
***Author speaking***
Death_Cry: I hope everyone is overjoyed that I wrote this chapter. Thanks to this, I have not completed my English essay or any of my homework, for that matter. The things I do for reviews (hint-hint, wink-wink)
Dimitrov: Yeah, yeah. . . we're all happy. Now, rlenavampyre14, yes you may borrow the meat grinder, as long as I get those lollypops.
Death_Cry: Can I have one, too?
Dimitrov: No.
Death_Cry: Sure, I like you, too. In any case, I wasn't asking you. May I have one, r?
Dimitrov: You're human! Why the hell do you want one?
Death_Cry: You ask too many stupid questions. REVIEW, s'il vous plait?
***
Steam wafted from the cyber-horse's metallic nostrils. Its ears flashed gold light, as they twitched to catch the whimpering sounds of the figure in front of it. It blinked curiously and took one cautious step forward. It was a female. The horse took another sniff. Then, it snorted as a flood of vampire and blood exploded in its senses. Shaking its head nervously, it made to move backwards, but D stopped it with a simple flick upon the reins. The horse halted, but its eyes still rolled wildly.
D studied the girl with distant eyes. He tried to ignore the fact that blood drenched everything on her. Well, to be exact, the blood drenched the body below her. She, herself, was bedecked in vivid rubies. Her hair, cut messily short, was not matted with the liquid, as one would expect, but kissed delicately with bead-like gems. A tattered, dark silver windbreaker was tied around her like a satchel. A gun lay on the dust beside the body on the ground.
It was her clothes, though, that made her unearthly. A loose white shirt and extremely baggy pants hung from her frame. Mud, blood, and God knows what else was caked in layers upon what once must have been untainted white. What kind of girl goes into a pitch-black wood at night infested with man-eating creatures wearing a glowing bright white? Not a very smart one.
Then she lifted her head in surprise. D wondered if his horse was that silent when galloping. He doubted it. Her eyes caught his, she gazed at him, seeming to calculate his every movement, his every reaction, his every thought. The intensity of the power from her dark brown eyes captured him. Her eyes lingered to the sword's hilt upon his back. Then the dark brown slowly caressed his hands, his body, his face. She couldn't possibly be human.
As if to prove that last thought false, those same intense eyes flickered and melted into despairing tears. They rolled down her bloodstained cheeks, leaving shining trails on her now sobbing face. D half-lidded eyes never flickered, but now he was on guard. If she could change from the strong to the weak that fast, it had to be a deception of some sort.
"Don't hurt me!" she screamed at him when he threw his black cloak to one side. "Get away! Get away!"
Then she shrieked fear as he dismounted from the black cyber-horse. He made no move towards her; instead he calmed his horse by laying a cool, pale hand between its red eyes. The movement seemed to calm her as well. She quieted, noiselessly sobbing into tightly rolled fists. Her eyes were wide and frightened as she turned to stare upon the body beside her.
D did not turn to look at her. He watched her through the reflection of the robotic eyes. Once she stopped trembling did he turn to her. She hugged her knees. The white still visible on the sleeves made her tanned arms gleam golden and streaked with bright crimson.
"Is he dead?" she whispered. The question was not exactly directed towards him; her eyes were unfocused, as though reliving some far off memory.
Then. . . "Am I dead?" she said louder. Panic edged her voice. "Did you come to finish me off? Like they finished him? Did you?" she demanded, her cries became increasingly frantic, as D walked slowly towards her. His cloak spun around him, as though he were some demon shifting through a portal from hell into the sunlit day.
"Please. . ." she lowered her eyes and whispered up at him, as he stood like a looming shadow above her. If this was an act, she was wearing the best mask he had ever seen. His hand, slender and gentle, reached for her bowed head. He slowed his breathing, which had quickened at sight of what type of puddle she was kneeling in. For one awful moment, his control slipped, and his eyes flared red. He heard her blood pulse as though her blood also flowed through him. The lust passed, or rather, it was suppressed. The volume of her heartbeat reduced to a more controllable level of noise.
***
(Change in point of view, but same scene. Sorry if you get confused.)
"Don't touch me. Please. Don't get near me. Stay away. . . away. . ." she faltered when a cool fingertip pressed against her forehead. It soothed her, and she fell silent. She relaxed, and almost lost her grip on her false facial expression. What the hell was this hunter doing to her?
Forget it. She didn't really want to know anyway. All she needed, was for him to be non-existent. She would be able to arrange that very quickly.
Clearing her mind, her expression changed again. She kept her face lowered, so he would not be able to see her smile. The familiar ache returned to her throat. Her lips unleashed the untamed energy within her.
***
D drew back his hand from her as though he were burned. Was she. . . smiling? Then he lost all sense of thought and time as her lips parted beckoning him to forget all.
One by one, all his thoughts and instincts became blurred and obscure. Even memories he forgot he still had were dampened by a heavy veil that threatened to smother his past. All faces became indistinguishable from one another. All the battles he had ever fought became a jumble of muffled clashing swords. All the times of pain and hurt and agony. . .
At first he fought this, and he physically gripped her by the shirt and threw her farther down the road, to free the hold she had upon his mind.
Bruised even further, she angrily faced him with red streaked eyes after she rolled to a stop. The energy folded into words, the magic concentrated and saturating.
"Open up your mind,
Let your fantasies unwind,
In this darkness which you know you cannot fight-
The darkness of
The music of the night. . ."
Sunlight pounded on him along with the words that dripped with enchantments. He fell to his knees, as she rose up to stand superior above him. His hands clamped over his ears, but there was no way to stop the song from ringing in his flesh, his blood, his bones. His normally still face contorted to reveal the battle within him.
***
She watched with satisfaction as he fought. She knew this one would be strong. They rarely ever struggled. This could end up as mildly entertaining. So she continued.
"Let your mind
Start a journey through a
Strange, new world!
Leave all thoughts
Of the world
You knew before!
Let your soul
Take you where you
Long to be!
Only then
Can you belong
To me. . ."
She suppressed the bloodlust; she never drank from hunters. She would never let their tainted life force into her. They deserved to have their throats slashed, no better than dogs. She fumbled with the dagger's sheath she had retrieved from her "bag." As soon as she removed its cover, she circled the hunter. Still singing, she removed his sword from the sheath on his back. Promptly, she dropped it. She cursed inwardly, but kept singing. She picked it back up and flung it into the woods. Well, she tried to chuck it in the woods, but it fell not three feet from her. Damn, how could he carry that infernal thing? How could he even lift it? She circled around him, like a hunter to her prey.
***
"Floating, falling,
Sweet intoxication!
Touch me,"
She ran a finger mockingly down his clenched jaw.
"Trust me,"
Her lengthening nails cut into one cheek.
"Savor each sensation!"
Four lines cried red drops, and a slight shudder ran through his body.
"Let the dream begin,
Let your darker side give in"
The blood fell into the corner of his mouth. His entire body became rigid with holding back the desire. A hunger he must prevent from consuming him. It was a thirst that he could not remember why he still had to hold back.
To the power of
The music of the night. . ."
He could hardly move; he felt her draining his energy. He removed his left hand from his ear. And with one swift, smooth movement, he caught her wrist with the hand and tightened.
She swiped at him with her dagger, a reflexive movement. Through the enchantment, he saw real fear fill her eyes. She writhed against him, squirming, her forgotten dagger landing on the dirt with a dull thud his mind could barely register.
She screamed. Loud and shrill, she broke the spell, and he wrapped his arms around her. The volume increased. He held her tighter, as he stood. Suddenly she went limp and the hysterical screeches silenced. He did not move to release her.
He arched his neck to see her face. It was blank, tearless and without feeling. It looked like his own. He stiffened as she began to thrash again, whimpers of pain escaped her. It was as though she were reliving something, some stifled recollection. Then, once again, she quieted. Was this another deception? Was this just another mask?
Still unmoving, she wailed. A lone call weaved with the sunlight; a cry of defeat, a cry of loss, and a cry of shame.
The suffering someone must've endured to make a sound like that. . . D did not want to hear it. He did not want to feel pity, especially for something that was not real. He crushed her unexpectedly, until the air had whooshed out of her in a hoarse cough. A dark arm smothered her mouth and nose, while another hand pressed against her throat. She welcomed the darkness, which offered her a short respite from the past.
D slung the unconscious girl over his horse, which had been unaffected by the song, then leaped beside her on the saddle.
"We still should have followed the vampire." Left said as they galloped down the road, opposite the direction of the vampire.
Who was this girl?
***
***Author speaking***
Death_Cry: I hope everyone is overjoyed that I wrote this chapter. Thanks to this, I have not completed my English essay or any of my homework, for that matter. The things I do for reviews (hint-hint, wink-wink)
Dimitrov: Yeah, yeah. . . we're all happy. Now, rlenavampyre14, yes you may borrow the meat grinder, as long as I get those lollypops.
Death_Cry: Can I have one, too?
Dimitrov: No.
Death_Cry: Sure, I like you, too. In any case, I wasn't asking you. May I have one, r?
Dimitrov: You're human! Why the hell do you want one?
Death_Cry: You ask too many stupid questions. REVIEW, s'il vous plait?