a/n- Hello to those who are reading. This is a short fic that i wrote while i was bored. I hope you enjoy. If you read please review. I luv it that i get good reviews, but if any1 has any suggestions, or critisism, please let me know so i don't go around telling people i'm perfect. (lol) Blessed Be...
Angels of Darkness
I had never imagined anything like it could ever be. Sure, I'd had heard stories, but who believed them to be true? I certainly hadn't, at least, not in the beginning. Not until I had an encounter of my own, one that would change my life forever.
Of course, I wasn't to know that. I was just an innocent (okay, maybe not so innocent) fifteen year old girl. I was Donelle "Donny" Maundrell, daughter of Rachelle Eve-Maundrell and Jonathan Maundrell. We lived in a nice neighborhood, or it wasn't a bad one anyway. My father was a successful doctor and my mother a well-known lawyer. Both are now in the Crest Hills Psychiatric Hospital. They were submitted when I went missing.
They used to live in a beautiful house, with many rooms and more servants. My maid, Rowan, was the only one I had to talk to, for mother and father were always gone, and I was left alone in my "haunted house". Rowan was a beautiful woman, with long blonde hair and green eyes that seemed to change color depending on what she was wearing. Of course, it could have been contacts, but why would I have thought of that then?
Rowan used to play all of my games with me. For years she would play me Billiards and King Kong. I normally got what I wanted being an only child, and I benefited from it greatly. I often asked my parents for things I didn't need to make up for the time they didn't spend with me. This always struck their conscience, and when I woke up in the morning, it (whatever 'it' was) would be sitting next to my bed. Had I known that I would not be able to talk with them again, I may not have asked for the things that I did. Then again, maybe I would have. Who is to know?
Despite my parent's pampering, I had been told several times that I was not snobby, as most of the rich kids were. I had many friends, and quite a few teachers wouldn't mind me in their class either. I got good grades, always did my work, and I played three instruments. I don't play them anymore, for I have forgotten how. A lot has been gone from my mind since that one night. But I am wandering, forgive me.
I have black hair and from what I've been told, piercing blue eyes. I prefer not to look in the mirror myself, and now if I do I find nothing, nothing at all. I wish now that I had took pride in my looks, but back then I didn't care what people thought of me. My room was painted black, and the only colorful thing in there was my cat's collar, which was a dark red. I had no windows in my room, and I liked it scorching hot. The only light I had was a black light. My clothes, my nail polish, and my posters were all dark and sinister. Now that my world truly has become darkness, I wish for the sun, and for those things which I never had.
But once again I am straying from the story that I wish to tell you. It was June 6th, 2004. It was a dark night, and the clouds covered the few stars that had dared show themselves. The moon was new and the night was still. This should have been my first indication that something was wrong, but I was not paying attention. Thinking back on it now, I wonder if it was even me who woke up and snuck out. I don't remember having any reason behind my stroll in the dark, but it happened, and it can not be taken back, so I may as well continue.
I was talking about the stillness of the night. It was unusual because in Sara the nights are never still. Something is always going on, but on that night the small town of Sara seemed to be holding it's breath, waiting for what was about to happen.
No crickets chirped on the manicured lawns, and no breeze tugged softly at the falling leaves of the giant oaks. The dogs did not bark, and the cats could not be heard fighting in the alleys. Had I realized this, perhaps I may not have ventured out alone. Then again, perhaps I would have.
Quickly and silently, the two words I have come to value much over the years, I got into my black clothes and black boots and I threw on a black sweater. I was ready to go.
I crept past my parent's bedroom, but they were not there. The glowing clock above their bed told me that it was eleven thirty one. I tip-toed down stairs and to the living room. There I slipped out the open window. Why the window you ask? My parent's were very protective of me, they always said. They were protective of their money, I thought, but I didn't say anything. Anyway, they had an alarm system on the door, one which I did not know how to break. So, I found myself squeezing through the window into the cold windless night.
As I walked down the driveway I became aware of the crunch of the gravel underneath my feet. My increasing heartbeat pounded and echoed in my chest until I was sure the neighboring houses could hear it as well. As I treaded slowly to the road, I became conscious that someone was watching me. Who? I didn't know, and I wasn't too keen on finding out.
As I realized this I began wondering why I had come out in the first place. I had no goal in mind, no particular location in which I urgently had to reach. None of my friends would be up at this ungodly hour. I pressed a button on my watch, and it lit up. It was eleven forty two. Had it really taken me that long to get this far? The more I thought about it, the more I convinced myself that I did have a goal; I just wasn't quite sure what it was.
"That must be it", I said aloud. I was instantly startled by the sound of my voice in the silence, and I wondered if whoever was watching me heard it. They must have, I said it loud enough.
Before I could reach the sidewalk I heard footsteps strike from behind me. I stopped dead. Who ever it was wanted to be found, because I know now that had he wished it, he would not have been heard. He could have walked through the forest during the fall, with the leaved on the ground, and not have made a single noise.
I turned around slowly, and he was staring at me, not three feet from where I stood. He had a pale complexion and grey eyes. His hair was black and wavy, and his features were clearly defined. He looked almost sad as he approached me. I could not move, for like in the movies, I was frozen in fear. I did not blink nor breathe as he put his hands on my shoulders. Could it have been mind control? I suppose, but then why would he let me have walked as far as I did? Was he playing with me? It was quite possible.
The man bent his head down, and opened his mouth. The last thing I saw before the darkness was two very long fangs, as they entered my neck. As I fell into oblivion, I heard him whisper to me.
"Death or Immortality?" I wondered what the difference between them was, and now I know. I choose immortality, as any mortal would have. I asked, and I received. Shakespeare once wrote, "The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman." I disagree.
Had this prince of Darkness been a gentleman he would have given me death, instead of condemning me to eternal life on earth. I knew not the consequences of my actions. I do now.
For days I lay weak in a sun-deprived cave. He brought me blood, which I feasted on joyfully, but he and I both knew he could not nurse me forever. I slowly gained strength. He told me that I had been reported missing, and that people everywhere were searching for me.
Later he taught me how to hunt, and he told me what I needed to know to make it on my own. I learned fast, I had always been a quick study, and soon I was able to fend for myself. He left as soon as he was sure that I would be alright. That is my sad story, of how I became, and how I will always be.
Tonight I hunt. I have a target in mind. He is a young boy, but his aura glows bright.
I watched him through his wall. Vampires have many gifts, and that is one of mine. He got up and I retreated into the shadows. I thought of what I told you. Of my past, my life before death. I am not proud of it, but at least it is there. I have not aged a day since "He" bled me. I never did get to know his name, it never came up. I don't think he knew mine, but we communicated well enough.
My head snapped to attention as the boy walked out of his door. Lucky kid, I thought to myself, hearing no alarm. I could hear his heart beat. It was steady and constant. Mine hadn't been.
I still wonder why I walked out that night. Why was he walking out towards me? Why would he stop when he heard me and not be able to move, like the countless victims before him. Why? I don't suppose I will ever have the answers I am looking for.
As I thought about him, and saw him walk out, I felt pity for him. He knew not what was coming after him. I was. A vampire, an Angel of Darkness.
He had never imagined anything like it could ever be. Sure, He'd had heard stories, but who believed them to be true? He certainly didn't, at least, not yet.
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