Post by Cascadia on May 30, 2006 16:50:38 GMT -5
Aubrey
He was still kneeling on the ground, observing his hand when he smelled her blood. He stood quickly, thinking he was mistaken. He could smell different blood on the air, dispersing throughout the city. No human realized this though, it was a vampiric sense. He could taste the different bloods, sweet and bitter on his tongue, the metallic bite of it's aftertaste making his aura respond and search for near victims.
He shook his head, dismissing the thought. He focused again, he'd only smelled her blood one other time, but he would never forget it. He stepped forward, instantly blending into the shadows, speeding through his part of the city, infinite darkness to hide him. When he reached the edge of his part, he was slowed greatly as the sun had already risen. Shadows grew scarce, and he felt weaker with the light shining on him. Finally he fell sideways from the dark, landing painfully on his elbows. Waves of pain flew up his arms, throbbing aftershocks making him scowl. He pushed himself up, catching her scent immediately. It was getting stronger. Now he was worried. He was still a few blocks away, and it shouldn't be this strong.
He found a shadow and continued jumping from space to space, almost to her house. Finally he landed in her backyard, becoming solid beside the tree he stood under only nights before. His mind was jumping over a thousand different scenarios, making his head swirl with emotion. Anger, worry, confusion, but he was oblivious to everything going through his mind, all he focused on was her blood on the air, thick enough for even a human to sense, almost.
And if out here it's this strong, it's even worse in there. He heard her heart beat, faint and slow. He concentrated, falling into the shadow he stood in and creeping his way up the wall. The sun was reflecting off everything, making it difficult to get to the glass doors. Finally he got high enough up the wall and reached from the black, his hand grabbing the white railing, his blood dripping over the polish, making his fingers slip. He felt himself sliding backwards, and used this to bend his elbow, flipping his legs over. He caught his balance and stepped forward, reaching for the golden handles, not caring they were locked.
He flipped his wrist, breaking the lock and pulling the door open, his eyes falling to the floor where she lay. He could see her body rise and fall, slowly and with almost no air entering her lungs. He stared at her, his face emotionless. His eyes moved over her, lying in a heap on the floor. He felt empty again, now noticing the lack of emotion that was so hollow in him. The room seemed frozen, the air only moving around her. It was like he was inanimate, just a stone, not breathing or feeling, unaffected by anything around him.
Finally he moved to her, kneeling beside her. He gently flipped her over, seeing the line across her arm, blood caked and hard over the wound. He didn't wonder why she was bleeding; the razor on the floor explained all he needed to know. He slid his arm under her legs, and his other on her back. He began to pick her up, and stared down at her as her hair rippled down, from her head falling back limply. Her arm was across her stomach, thick, clotting blood seeping out of the trench it had been freely pouring from for too long. Her other swung down and hung there, suspended in the air that was heavy with the scent of her blood.
He walked her over to the bed, his eyes locking on spots of blood, random splotches of the bright red against white. He held her out from him, catching her arm and then sliding her down gently. Her arm dragged across the sheet, pulling them towards her, creases forming around her. Her hair folded onto the pillow, her head rolling away from him. The rest of her shifted, almost like she was asleep.
He felt his chest contract after he thought this. She is asleep. Unconscious. He looked down at her arm again, his humanity telling him he needed to clean the cut. He stood, walking cautiously out of her room and into the room beside hers; taking a washcloth from the cabinet he turned the water on a little, getting the cloth wet. Then he went back to her bedroom, holding the doorknob and slowly pulling the door shut, waiting for the small click as it held still. He turned, moving swiftly to her side, holding her arm gingerly, placing the washcloth over her arm, covering the morbidity and making her look innocently caught up in her dreams. He pressed down a little, sliding it across, feeling the swollen skin beneath his fingers. Removing the cloth from her arm, he looked down at her wound, and took the corner, wiping off some of the blood caked around the cut.
After it was mostly clean, other then the clotted blood healed over the wound, he draped the stained washcloth over her nightstand. He didn't know what else to do. He looked around awkwardly, kneeling at the edge of her bed. He couldn't feel anything for her now. It was the emptiness in his chest that normally soothed him, but now, it confused him.
He knew he should feel something for her, maybe sadness? She could die. Anger? She had promised him she wouldn't do this again. Thinking of what he should feel for her only confused him more. For now, even as he gave himself reason to feel something, he couldn't bring up the emotion. He stayed useless. Once more just an unmoving stone. The air curled around him, his aura surrounding him. He was never hot or cold, never happy or sad. But she had given him that again. Emotion, she'd brought out what little humanity he had left. Now he was hollow again. As he used to be with out her.
He looked back at her now. Without her, he repeated. He was alone again. He actually had felt for her, connected with her, wanted her, and from his love for her, had come fear. He was afraid for her. And he wasn't used to that. Fearless, bold, strutting through the streets with confidence. That was him. Aubrey, the vampire. Not unsure or hesitant. But she had changed him. He was more careful, watching for her, and not caring as much for himself. And that had shook him, after he finally realized what he had been doing differently. It made him confused, as he was now. Unsure of himself, of who he was.
Not brave, bold Aubrey, killing at will and smirking at the remorse that never came from his long-dead conscience. But now, he rarely fed. And when he did, he left them alive. He had begun to respect the human race, treating them as if he was still part of them. That had disgusted him, and made him realize how judgmental he still was. He felt proud of his growing humanity, but the little voice in the back of his mind spoke to him, bringing him back to reality. He would never be human. He was different. He was better, stronger, he was meant to use them, play with them, they were only there for his amusement.
He pulled himself from his thoughts, looking back to Jayde who was slowly breathing deeper. Was she just here for his amusement, a slave to a game he was caught up in? Was it even a game? His eyes shifted over her face, sweet warmth rising from her skin. Her body moving and keeping itself alive, repairing even as she slept. Humans didn't even realize how much was still going on with their bodies while they lay unconscious, so vulnerable if anything may come across them. He raised his hand, brushing hair from her face. He lay the palm of his hand on her cheek, his thumb sliding over her lips softly.
Still, he felt nothing. But I'm with her, he thought looking down at her. This thought made his insides twist painfully. I'm with her. I should be feeling something. He took a lungful of air in. The oxygen left an icy feel in his chest, so unheard of. A vampire. Breathing. He stared back at her, watching her chest rise and fall. He felt her heart beat, his hand resting on her relaxed face. His own had stopped so long ago; he wondered if he could force it to move. Lying back next to her, he slid his arm under her shoulders, holding her close to him, her head against his chest. He laid his other over her stomach, resting his hand on her lower back.
He closed his eyes, wishing he could feel something for her, anything, just to have things back to when he first started seeing her. But he'd lost all hope of that. He'd lost a lot of things, actually. He relaxed and settled into her bed, feeling her breathing against him. He'd lost his emotions, he'd lost the fearlessness, and he’d lost Jayde. He opened his eyes again. I lost Jayde, he thought to himself. I can't feel like a human, because only she could bring it out of me, and I can't be a vampire because I had been acting like a human. Thought raced through his mind as he lay still, controlling the urge to stand and run, hide in the darkness he'd grown so used to. I lost myself to her, and pushed her away. That's why I left her. Not only for her safety, but so I wouldn't loose hold of everything I'd gotten so comfortable with. He swallowed hard, realization of what he'd done settling in on him.
He took another deep, shuddering icy breath, closing his eyes and cradling her against him tighter.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, finally at peace with himself and relaxing into a dreamless sleep. Holding the only one he would ever be able to love, and deny himself the pleasure.
He was still kneeling on the ground, observing his hand when he smelled her blood. He stood quickly, thinking he was mistaken. He could smell different blood on the air, dispersing throughout the city. No human realized this though, it was a vampiric sense. He could taste the different bloods, sweet and bitter on his tongue, the metallic bite of it's aftertaste making his aura respond and search for near victims.
He shook his head, dismissing the thought. He focused again, he'd only smelled her blood one other time, but he would never forget it. He stepped forward, instantly blending into the shadows, speeding through his part of the city, infinite darkness to hide him. When he reached the edge of his part, he was slowed greatly as the sun had already risen. Shadows grew scarce, and he felt weaker with the light shining on him. Finally he fell sideways from the dark, landing painfully on his elbows. Waves of pain flew up his arms, throbbing aftershocks making him scowl. He pushed himself up, catching her scent immediately. It was getting stronger. Now he was worried. He was still a few blocks away, and it shouldn't be this strong.
He found a shadow and continued jumping from space to space, almost to her house. Finally he landed in her backyard, becoming solid beside the tree he stood under only nights before. His mind was jumping over a thousand different scenarios, making his head swirl with emotion. Anger, worry, confusion, but he was oblivious to everything going through his mind, all he focused on was her blood on the air, thick enough for even a human to sense, almost.
And if out here it's this strong, it's even worse in there. He heard her heart beat, faint and slow. He concentrated, falling into the shadow he stood in and creeping his way up the wall. The sun was reflecting off everything, making it difficult to get to the glass doors. Finally he got high enough up the wall and reached from the black, his hand grabbing the white railing, his blood dripping over the polish, making his fingers slip. He felt himself sliding backwards, and used this to bend his elbow, flipping his legs over. He caught his balance and stepped forward, reaching for the golden handles, not caring they were locked.
He flipped his wrist, breaking the lock and pulling the door open, his eyes falling to the floor where she lay. He could see her body rise and fall, slowly and with almost no air entering her lungs. He stared at her, his face emotionless. His eyes moved over her, lying in a heap on the floor. He felt empty again, now noticing the lack of emotion that was so hollow in him. The room seemed frozen, the air only moving around her. It was like he was inanimate, just a stone, not breathing or feeling, unaffected by anything around him.
Finally he moved to her, kneeling beside her. He gently flipped her over, seeing the line across her arm, blood caked and hard over the wound. He didn't wonder why she was bleeding; the razor on the floor explained all he needed to know. He slid his arm under her legs, and his other on her back. He began to pick her up, and stared down at her as her hair rippled down, from her head falling back limply. Her arm was across her stomach, thick, clotting blood seeping out of the trench it had been freely pouring from for too long. Her other swung down and hung there, suspended in the air that was heavy with the scent of her blood.
He walked her over to the bed, his eyes locking on spots of blood, random splotches of the bright red against white. He held her out from him, catching her arm and then sliding her down gently. Her arm dragged across the sheet, pulling them towards her, creases forming around her. Her hair folded onto the pillow, her head rolling away from him. The rest of her shifted, almost like she was asleep.
He felt his chest contract after he thought this. She is asleep. Unconscious. He looked down at her arm again, his humanity telling him he needed to clean the cut. He stood, walking cautiously out of her room and into the room beside hers; taking a washcloth from the cabinet he turned the water on a little, getting the cloth wet. Then he went back to her bedroom, holding the doorknob and slowly pulling the door shut, waiting for the small click as it held still. He turned, moving swiftly to her side, holding her arm gingerly, placing the washcloth over her arm, covering the morbidity and making her look innocently caught up in her dreams. He pressed down a little, sliding it across, feeling the swollen skin beneath his fingers. Removing the cloth from her arm, he looked down at her wound, and took the corner, wiping off some of the blood caked around the cut.
After it was mostly clean, other then the clotted blood healed over the wound, he draped the stained washcloth over her nightstand. He didn't know what else to do. He looked around awkwardly, kneeling at the edge of her bed. He couldn't feel anything for her now. It was the emptiness in his chest that normally soothed him, but now, it confused him.
He knew he should feel something for her, maybe sadness? She could die. Anger? She had promised him she wouldn't do this again. Thinking of what he should feel for her only confused him more. For now, even as he gave himself reason to feel something, he couldn't bring up the emotion. He stayed useless. Once more just an unmoving stone. The air curled around him, his aura surrounding him. He was never hot or cold, never happy or sad. But she had given him that again. Emotion, she'd brought out what little humanity he had left. Now he was hollow again. As he used to be with out her.
He looked back at her now. Without her, he repeated. He was alone again. He actually had felt for her, connected with her, wanted her, and from his love for her, had come fear. He was afraid for her. And he wasn't used to that. Fearless, bold, strutting through the streets with confidence. That was him. Aubrey, the vampire. Not unsure or hesitant. But she had changed him. He was more careful, watching for her, and not caring as much for himself. And that had shook him, after he finally realized what he had been doing differently. It made him confused, as he was now. Unsure of himself, of who he was.
Not brave, bold Aubrey, killing at will and smirking at the remorse that never came from his long-dead conscience. But now, he rarely fed. And when he did, he left them alive. He had begun to respect the human race, treating them as if he was still part of them. That had disgusted him, and made him realize how judgmental he still was. He felt proud of his growing humanity, but the little voice in the back of his mind spoke to him, bringing him back to reality. He would never be human. He was different. He was better, stronger, he was meant to use them, play with them, they were only there for his amusement.
He pulled himself from his thoughts, looking back to Jayde who was slowly breathing deeper. Was she just here for his amusement, a slave to a game he was caught up in? Was it even a game? His eyes shifted over her face, sweet warmth rising from her skin. Her body moving and keeping itself alive, repairing even as she slept. Humans didn't even realize how much was still going on with their bodies while they lay unconscious, so vulnerable if anything may come across them. He raised his hand, brushing hair from her face. He lay the palm of his hand on her cheek, his thumb sliding over her lips softly.
Still, he felt nothing. But I'm with her, he thought looking down at her. This thought made his insides twist painfully. I'm with her. I should be feeling something. He took a lungful of air in. The oxygen left an icy feel in his chest, so unheard of. A vampire. Breathing. He stared back at her, watching her chest rise and fall. He felt her heart beat, his hand resting on her relaxed face. His own had stopped so long ago; he wondered if he could force it to move. Lying back next to her, he slid his arm under her shoulders, holding her close to him, her head against his chest. He laid his other over her stomach, resting his hand on her lower back.
He closed his eyes, wishing he could feel something for her, anything, just to have things back to when he first started seeing her. But he'd lost all hope of that. He'd lost a lot of things, actually. He relaxed and settled into her bed, feeling her breathing against him. He'd lost his emotions, he'd lost the fearlessness, and he’d lost Jayde. He opened his eyes again. I lost Jayde, he thought to himself. I can't feel like a human, because only she could bring it out of me, and I can't be a vampire because I had been acting like a human. Thought raced through his mind as he lay still, controlling the urge to stand and run, hide in the darkness he'd grown so used to. I lost myself to her, and pushed her away. That's why I left her. Not only for her safety, but so I wouldn't loose hold of everything I'd gotten so comfortable with. He swallowed hard, realization of what he'd done settling in on him.
He took another deep, shuddering icy breath, closing his eyes and cradling her against him tighter.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, finally at peace with himself and relaxing into a dreamless sleep. Holding the only one he would ever be able to love, and deny himself the pleasure.