Disclaimer: This is one is the real end of the Angels and Demons. I was Googling monsters and stuff you might find under your bed. And it hit me like a snowball. But less cold and slushy. Now I'm just rambling… This one has to be the best, cuz I always go out with a bang. I find the ending to be quite a little twist that I didn't even think of in the original idea for the story. Don't own Naruto!
The sun glints bright and cheerful on the new winter snow, and the ground gleams white and pearly. The frozen beauty is perfect and serene; no one is moving for miles.
Someone, something is disturbed from a long sleep.
A shaft of light breaks through the trees and shines cold sunshine down on the frozen earth, and the people smile, relieved to have escaped the winter's first storm. Children run on the ice slicked streets, falling hard and bouncing back up.
One girl is unfazed by the new happiness of the season and marches purposefully towards the darkest house in the village, even though its tall towers are constantly bathed in sunlight. Not a soul lives in the house. Not a real soul anyways.
The vampires stir and grumble. The light is slicing through their skin, warming flesh that has been cold since before the sun was born.
Once, a girl came stumbling out of the house, stuttering and terrified that those inside its ominous doors might pull her back. She never returned, cutting off all ties to the house of the eternally damned. But everyone knows where she can from, and why she looks so pale, color drained from her skin and eyes. Only her hair remained unaffected by the sick rites of the undead, shimmering and lustrous.
But this isn't about the miraculous escape, it's about diving in the unknown and not being swallowed alive or dead. So one brave girl walks on towards the house of doom, and bangs on the front door that rarely sees anyone trying to come inside.
Pale faces and hungry eyes are the only objects that are visible. She is not, cannot be afraid of them, unless she wishes to die. To fear is to lose.
One particular face and pair of eyes catches her own freckled face and she jerks her head towards the outside world. He turns to the others and in the way only they understand, he sends a message. "I'm going out. You cannot stop me, but I will come back."
She doesn't comprehend their idiosyncratic words, and he is glad, because revealing the darker side of the dark would scare away any sane human. And he isn't so sure she would run screaming after all these years of tolerating his undead presence. Maybe she's insane. Maybe he's insane. Maybe he should just stop thinking before he loses everything that they both have worked so hard for.
They reach a clearing, far away from civilization and secluded. He feels the heat off her body increase as she prepares to begin the dance, the dangerous tango that is the only way they might ever come in physical contact with each other.
They don't touch because her warmth burns, and the icy aura radiating off him is almost overpowering. Almost.
He spins and twirls towards her, and it's beautiful, so much so that she wants to sit and watch. But at beautiful as it may be, it's deadly and she flips back again and again, until he stops moving and it's time for her to start moving.
And she does, twisting screaming steel and iron in a deadly wave of power. This isn't part of the dance they do together, this is just her and the truest friends she has, and this is her dancing.
She spins and spins, and he sits back, hidden, and watches from a safe distance. She's been getting better and better, twirling tighter and faster, until he hears a faint slash in the air, and the dull slam of a knife speeds towards him, and it lands precariously close, the tip of the blade is only two centimeters away from his head, actually snagging on some of his black hair.
And the faintest hint of a smile flickers around lips that haven't truly laughed in years. It's time for the true dance to begin.
And he spins perfectly in sync with her, even though knives and shuriken speed towards him like raindrops. They move closer and closer to each other, steel clashing against chakra, until the sharp points of her weapons dull and he has no energy. All they can do is sit, pant, and just be there for each other. That's what they do. That's what they have always done.
Just moving in for the kiss. Or is it the kill?
Against this frozen tree trunk, no sound, no people, other than a heartless, apathetic boy, and a girl that is too caught in a web of cold death to even see it, time stands still. Very, very slowly, his arm moves towards her shoulders. Very, very slowly, she tilts her head to look at him, with surprise, because he just broke all the rules.
Very, very slowly, they kiss, with no bells, no mystic fairy dust floating through the air. Just cold lips pressed to warm ones that smell like strawberries and cream, and bodies begin to feel corporeal, spirits floating into the steam made from what seems to be just one mouth. Very, very gently, she moves away from his lips and trails her fingers and mouth downwards towards his neck and traces the firm line of his jaw.
As she reaches the bob in his neck that shows just how fast his breathing is, sharp, sharp fangs pop out, directly above the incisors. He grins truly now, as the faint sound of new teeth being revealed to the light. They have become the same sort of monster, yet different. She is the same, the same girl with the same skin, the same hair and face, the same eyes. Why is she like him, but so, so unfamiliar?
It doesn't bother either of them. It was going to happen eventually, and the blood trickling down his throat warms both of them.