Story Collection

[Vasha]

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          I jolt upwards as someone bangs on the door. A hazy glance around the room reminds me where I am, and shows me that Ludolf is still sleeping.

           “Kai, get out here,” Judas shouts from behind the door, continuing his pounding.

            I quickly throw on my jacket and fling open the door. Judas almost falls backward.

            “Yes, Judas?”

            He glowers at me. “Your friend is downstairs.”

            “What?”

            I push past him, almost knowing him down again, and rush down the steps. Sure enough, Jane is standing by the door. She sees me and smiles. I make my way over to her—still no Ludolf—and push her outside.

            “What was that for?” she stammers.

            “I thought I told you not to come back? It’s not safe in there for you.”

            “I was worried about you, Kai! After you told me it was dangerous, I kept thinking of what might happen to you! I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

            I stare at her a moment before sighing and walking away from the house. Knowing Judas, he’s probably eavesdropping on us still from inside the house.

            “Well, I’m fine, okay? You don’t have to worry about me.”

            She runs to catch up with me. “Okay.”

            “So, do you promise not to come back to that house, then?”

            She nods.

            “Do you mean it this time?”

            She nods.

            I stop and look around; I’ve finally realized I have no idea where I’m going. Jane keeps walking a few paces before she stops as well. She walks back to me, grabs my arm, and almost knocks me off my feet as she bolts forward again.

            “Come on!”

            “Where are you taking me?” I ask, tripping over my feet as I try to match her pace.

            She smiles at me, but still successfully dodges the people on the street as we come into town. “You’re only here a few days, right? I figure we can get something for lunch and then I could show you around some.”

            “Can we stop running, at least?”

            “Fine.”

            She slows to a reasonable pace and scans the various buildings. She takes a few seconds to figure out where she’s going, then hurries off down a few more streets. I follow after he and eventually find myself in front of a building labeled ‘Martin’s Italian’ with a big, but plain, sign.

            A bell rings as Jane opens the door and we both steps into a small diner. There are about ten two-person tables scattered across the floor, each one with a small chandelier hanging over it.

            Hearing the sound, the man in the kitchen turns around.

            “Hi, Jane. Found another unsuspecting stranger to pay for your meal?”

            “This is Kai,” she tells him and latches onto my arm.

            “I’d better wan you, Kai: she’s not a cheap date.”

            They both watch me—finally silent—and I stammer, “I don’t really have much money.” Or any, for that matter.

            The man watches me fidget for a while longer before bursting out laughing. Jane giggles, too, and lets go of my arm. I just stand there, unsure of what’s going on.

            The man walks up and slaps me a few times on the back. “Don’t worry, Kai. This one’s on the house. What do you guys want?”

            “Spaghetti!” Jane chimes, walking up to a table.

            “With meatballs,” I add feebly and follow her.

            “Coming right up.”

            Jane smiles at me for awhile before erupting in laughter again. “You should have seen your face. It was priceless!”

            “Do you… do this often?”

            She settles down to enough to actually answer me. “Not that often. He just likes to mess with people. That was my uncle, by the way. He owns the place.”

            She goes off into a long talk about her family. She starts with her uncle, who married an Italian woman. He learned all of her recipes before she walked out on him a few years ago. None of the family has heard from her since.

            Next, she moves to her parents. They spend most of their time on business, whether they’re at home or away. She has a nanny that’s supposed to look after her, but she’s easy to get away from (a fact Jane has taken advantage of the past two days).

            I can tells she’s about to ask me about my family when I’m saved by the arrival of our food.

            She eats as fast as she talks, but it at least saves me from having to dodge more questions. She finishes up in five minutes, watching me finish up for another five minutes, and hugs her uncle. We leave.

            “So, where do you want to go now?”

            “Well, I don’t know what there is to see,” I remind her. “You were the one who said you wanted to show me around.”

            She takes a moment to think before exclaiming. “Ooh! Do you like history?”

            “Kind of,” I say with a shrug. I haven’t had time to study it since I was in school, but why shouldn’t I like it?

            “Then I have this really interesting shop we should go to!” she says, already tugging on my arm for me to follow her. “It’s a store, but it’s all based off of history. It has all these replicas of artifacts and stuff. And every so often they get a new exhibit, and I really want to see the one they have now!”

            “What is it about?”

            “British mythology! Wights and Cofgodas and witches and lycans and stuff! Come on!”

            Before I can protest, she pulls me off balance and I end up racing through the town with her. After a few minutes of sprinting, we reach the store. We take a minute to catch our breath.

            She pushes me onward, but I try to resist as I warily scan the building. They have mistletoe hanging over the door; I can already feel it from across the street. With items like that on the outside of the building already, I can only imagine what the actual exhibit will be like.

            “Jane, I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

            “But you said you like history!”

            “Yeah, but I don’t really like the supernatural. My parents were kind of strict about that,” I lie.

            “Oh, don’t be such a baby. It will be fun!”

            She gives me another, harder shove and sends me tumbling towards the building. I feel the closeness of the plant above the entrance as an intense burning all around me. I can barely hear Jane encouraging me or feel her pushing me, all I can feel is that burning.

            Until she closes the door behind us. Then it suddenly all stops.

            “Are you okay, Kai? You’re all sweaty. I didn’t expect to have to drag you in here.”

            “I told you, I’m not… I mean, I don’t-“

            “Come on, Kai, live a little! You’re in London! What your parents don’t know won’t hurt you. And if you really feel so bad about it, you can always confess to that priest you’re staying with later.”

            I sigh as she walks away. There’s no reasoning with her.

            When I catch up to her, she’s already doting over that exhibit she had wanted to see, particularly the lycan section. Great.

            “Isn’t this stuff amazing, Kai? They used to have so many different ideas just about how to kill these things!”

            “Um, yeah, sure.” Wolfsbane, mistletoe, ivy, silver, and a variety of other things that could hurt, maim, or murder me all in one place; what’s not to love?

            A man walks up to us behind the counter and Jane immediately barrages him with questions.

            “Did people really believe in all of this stuff?”

            “Yes.”

            “Do people still believe it?”

            “Sure.”

            “Do you believe in it?”

            “Not really.”

            “Why are there so many different ways to kill things?”

            “There are different ways to kill you, aren’t there?”

            He grins as Jane falls silent.

            “Do you have any more questions, or do you want me to explain it like I’m supposed to?”

            She huffs and crosses her arms. “Fine.”

            He goes off into a monologue about lycan history. It’s pretty much what Judas has already told me, except this guy isn’t nearly as excited about it as Judas is.

            He uses the same excuse as Judas: England has few lycan myths due to their not being any wolves in England for hundreds of years. He then talks about the Scottish wulver that gives fish it catches to the poor, and the Irish faoladh that protects children and wounded men. Then he goes to the mythology of continental Europe: the less kind ones. He tells Jane about how lycans there are believed to be evil men who go around as wolves tormenting people when the devil wants them to.

            Throughout his whole talk, Jane watches him with wide eyes. I can’t tell if she’s amazed or appalled, but I’m not sure which is worse.

            Next, he starts talking about our weaknesses. He talks about each of the different weapons in his showcase in turn. I can feel it as soon as he opens a compartment and takes one of them out; it’s wolfsbane.

            “Would you like to see it?”

            “No! Thank you.”

            They both give me weird looks before Jane explains, “His parents don’t approve of this sort of stuff, so he’s kind of jumpy. I had to drag him just to get him to come in here.”

            The man laughs. “Don’t worry, kid. It’ll get easier as you go.”

            “I don’t think so,” I tell him pleasantly and uneasily.

            Jane takes the plant and studies it, wide eyed. Finally, after what must have been at least a whole minute, she hands it back and the compartment of death is closed.

            “Now do you have any questions?”

            Jane starts to say something, but I cut her off. “No!”

            She protests, but I push her out the exit. I ignore the pain of the mistletoe as long as I can avoid something worse and more obvious. I only let her turn around once we’re safely across the street.

            “Kai! What was that for?”

            “I’m sorry, I just… I didn’t like it in there.”

            She blinks at me a few times before groaning, “Kai, you’re such a baby!”

            I hesitate, but offer her, “It’s complicated.”

            “Whatever,” she sighs.

            We take to scanning the crowds instead of talking to each other. There’s a few families and couples scattered throughout, but mostly it’s single people heading to work or to buy things. Overall, there’s no one very interesting, except for one person. Jane sees him about the same time I do. He’s practically snarling at the mistletoe.

            “Isn’t that the person from last night? Ludolf or something?”

            “Yeah,” I reply. “Listen, Jane, I think we should go.”

            But, of course, she’s already walking up to him.

            “Ludolf, huh? What is that, German?”

            He glares at her. “Yes.”

            I sigh and follow after her. Ludolf turns away from Jane as he sees me.

            “Still playing human with her, are you?”

            I ignore his evil grin and the strange look Jane is giving me and respond, “Yes, I am.”

            “How interesting,” he says in a way that’s either sarcastic or scornful.

            Jane drums her fingers on her arm as we ignore her. “So, Ludolf, what are you doing out here?”

            “I figured I would see the little London has to offer,” he sighs, then growls, “It’s better than being stuck with that accursed human watching my every move. What are you doing out here?”

            “Well, we were just in there looking at the exhibit,” she tells him, which causes him to turn his glower to me, “And now I think we should… ooh! We should go to the library! Oh, I forgot, you can’t read…”

            “It’s okay,” I tell her. “I can read; I’m just slow. I like books, though.”

            “Let’s go, then!”

            “I’ll come with you.”

            We both shoot confused looks at Ludolf. In return, he gives us that evil smile again.

            “Okay, if you want to, I guess,” Jane says warily and walks off.

            I try to follow after her, and keep as far away from Ludolf as possible while I’m at it, but he stays close to me.

            “I haven’t met any other lycans,” he says quietly. “Especially not like you.”

            “‘Like me’?” I repeat without looking at him.

            “Yes. You’ve been given such a gift, even more than most people, yet you’re too afraid to use it.”

            “If you’re only here to give me the ‘embrace your fate’ talk, you’re not the first one. I’ve heard it before.”

            “Oh, no. I just want to watch.”

            I shudder. He sounds like Judas. It’s a wonder they got each other angry enough to start throwing furniture.

            “Did you talk to Judas about gaining control?” I ask him, uncomfortable in the silent that has fallen, even if talking to him is the alternative.

            “Yes. He said he’s content with one lycan having control. He wants to study me ‘untampered.’” He glares at me and I instinctively scramble a few small steps away from him.

            “Come on!” I hear Jane moan, and suddenly she’s right next to me, pulling me forward. “You guys are so slow!”

bah, stupid character post limit.

[Vasha]

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            I let her pull me away, thankful for the interruption from Ludolf. We hurry through the streets. This place seems like it’s on the complete opposite side of town, but finally we get there. I look back to see, thankfully, that Ludolf is nowhere in sight.

            “Shall we?” I offer pleasantly now that we’re alone again.

            She nods exaggeratedly and leads me up the steps and into the library. It’s bigger than any I’ve ever seen. There are more rows of shelves than I can count on two different floors, and every one of them is filled with different sizes and colors of books. I can barely see the far wall.

            “How do you find anything in here? It’s so big!”

            She giggles and flies off. “Follow me.”

            She rushes around to various places in the library, only staying for about five minutes at each location before moving to the next. I follow her around to three different spots before she actually says something.

            “You… probably don’t want to follow me to the next section.”

            I understand what she means. “You’re interested in that kind of stuff, huh?”

            “Yeah, kind of.”

            “Do you… believe in it?”

            She shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe. I don’t know why they couldn’t exist. I haven’t seen much good proof either way, though.”

            I fall silent, and she seems to take that as a sign to go off. I sigh and watch her leave.

            “You haven’t told her you, have you?”

            I whirl around to see Ludolf grinning at me.

            “Of course not.”

            “Why? Afraid she won’t like you any more if she knows the truth? Afraid she’ll come at you with her torch and pitchfork? Humans are so predictable.”

            “No, that’s not it! I-“

            “Don’t fool yourself, Kai. She only likes you because she thinks you’re human. If she knew you had the power to rip her heart out, she’d run from you as fast as she could. It shouldn’t be of any surprise to you.”

            I shrink back as I remember the woman I—no, it was the wolf, not me—did that to. Ludolf has the faintest hint of a smile on his face, as if he enjoys tormenting me. He takes a deep, contented breath.

            “Can you feel the moon coming closer? Can you feel its power, the wolf clawing its way out? I wonder what it wants to do to her.”

            “I—I’m not like you!” I tell him, drawing back.

            “Yes, so you’ve said. Maybe if you keep telling me that, we’ll both believe it. But I know what it’s like when the full moon appears. Some part of you wants to shred her to pieces, doesn’t it?”

            Why does everyone who knows about this expect that of me?

            I storm off without another word, not giving Ludolf the satisfaction of continuing his tormenting. I frantically search through the rows of books before I spot Jane. She stands up as soon as she sees me.

            “Kai, what’s wrong?”

            “Listen, Jane, you have to get out of here.”

            “What? Why, what’s wrong?”

            “Ludolf is here, and I told you before I didn’t think he was safe, but now I’m sure of it. I think he wants to hurt you.”

            “Hurt me? Why would he want to hurt me?”

            “I don’t know! Just, please, you have to leave!”

            “I’m not leaving without you,” she says forcefully.

            “Jane, please, I have to do this,” I plead with her. “I think I can distract him for awhile. Just go back home or to Judas or the store, just anywhere but here!”

            “Kai, if he’s dangerous, I’m not leaving you to fend for yourself with him. Now let’s go.”

            I sigh. She’s so stubborn. “Fine, let’s just go!”

            She leaves the books she was looking at on the floor and we run off. The librarian says something about the library closing as we pass, but I ignore her as we pass.

            We get out the door and Jane stops short.

            “Kai, look!” she whispers.

             Ludolf is standing on the steps, watching the horizon. He hears her whisper and turns around.

            “You’re too late, Kai. It’s about to start.”

            I look to the spot he was staring at. The sun is barely still visible, and the full moon is slowly beginning to fade into view.

            “Kai, what’s he talking about?”

            He glints a toothy grin at her. “For someone who’s interested in this sort of thing, you’re not very bright.”

            “Jane, you have to leave now.”

            “I told you, I’m not—”

            “Please, just leave already! I don’t care if you’re scared I might get hurt; I’m scared, too! But I have to do this! If I just leave now and let him do whatever he wants, he is going to go out there, and he is going to kill people!”

            Suddenly Ludolf screams in pain and falls to the ground. My eyes dart to the skies to assure the sky me the full moon is out now. I don’t dare to watch him change. It’s one thing to go through this quickly; it’s another to watch someone else transform slowly and painfully.

            “What’s happening to him?” Jane stammers, eyes fixed on Ludolf’s convulsing form.

            “You have to leave. I can’t let you get hurt.”

            “But what’s going on?”

            “I’ll explain later, you just have to get out of here!”

            “What if you get hurt?”

            “Jane, please!”

            Ludolf suddenly stops screaming. I turn around and there’s a wolf snarling at us. It watches me with golden eyes before growling at Jane.

            “Wh—what happened? Where’s Ludolf?”

            Apparently she really isn’t that bright.

            “Jane,” I say as calmly as possible, “You have to leave now.”

            Out of the corner of my eye, I see the wolf stalking toward her. She notices it, too, and takes a step back, but still she doesn’t run away.

            “Kai, where is—what happened—oh my goodness, is that—?”

            “Please, Jane, just run away!”

            Her eyes dart madly between me and the still-approaching wolf. “Kai, what—”

            Suddenly Ludolf bolts toward her. I shout, “Run!” and before I even know what I’m doing I’m on the ground in the form of a wolf and I’m knocking into Ludolf’s side. He crumbles from the impact and rolls into the wall, but he quickly recovers himself and growls at me. I growl back and soon we’re at each other with tooth and claw. He bites at my tail and I scratch at his stomach and he claws at my head and I bite at his neck, but he’s a lot better wolf than I am. I’m already battered and bruised, but he looks as if he hasn’t been touched.

            That’s when I look at Jane for the first time since I changed. She’s looking at us both with a horrified expression. She’s looking at me like she’s not sure what to think as she realizes I’m the same as Ludolf.

            I return my attention to Ludolf just in time to see him ran into me. I tumble away, but he’s still on top of me with teeth bared to strike.

            “Kai!”

            I howl as razor-sharp teeth dig into my side. I feel his claws in my shoulder, and all I can do is writhe on the ground.

            But then suddenly it all stops, and in a moment he falls on top of me. I look up to see Jane panting heavily. There are tears in her eyes and a rock in her hand. She stares at the bloody mess in front of her for awhile before dropping the rock and falling to her knees.

            “D—Did I… Did I kill him?”

            I shift back and try to ignore the blood now seeping out of my own usual body.

            “I doubt it,” I grunt. “You didn’t hit him that hard.”

            She looks up and shrinks back as she sees me back to my normal form. My answer doesn’t seem to help her any. She just keeps shaking and staring at Ludolf’s limp form.

            I push the unconscious wolf off of me and try to stand up. Pain shoots through my body, and I give up moving. Jane doesn’t notice.

            She looks a bit better when she looks up, if only because she’s not crying anymore.

            “Kai, you’re bleeding,” she says softly, though she’s looking at my head instead of any of the bloody places I know of.

            I put my hand up to my head and wince as it touches an open wound. I look at my trembling fingers and they’re already coated in blood.

            “It’s okay,” I tell her, though it doesn’t even sound sincere to me. “We usually heal pretty quickly. I forgot how much a lycan attack hurt, though.”

            Her eyes fall to the ground. “So, Ludolf…and you…”

            “Yeah.” She doesn’t have to say it. “Please, don’t be mad at me.”

            “Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you? You just saved my life.”

            I watch her silently, trying not to listen to Ludolf’s words as they echo through my head.

            “I know, it’s just… most people are kind of scared of lycans, and their first instinct is violence, so I thought, maybe… sorry.”

            She shakes her head, the tiniest hint of a smile on her face. “I’m not like that, Kai. To think, I was learning about lycans at a museum while I was right next to one.” Suddenly she gasps. “So, your parents don’t know about this, then?”

            I shake my head and let it drop a bit. “They never had a chance to find out. They were killed at the same time that I…”

            She brings a hand up to her mouth. “Kai, I’m so sorry!”

            “It’s alright,” I offer quietly. “If they had survived…  I don’t think I could bear telling them. Although, I guess that if they survived, we would all be like this…”

            We both fall silent. I pretend I don’t notice the tears once again rolling off her cheeks or the blood sliding off mine. I think the blood id starting to dry up now, but it’s hard to tell.

            “Well, that wasn’t as interesting as I was expecting.”

            We both look over to see Judas walking up to us.

            “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jane spits at him.

            He shrugs and gives her his usual smirk. “Well, after all of his gloating, I figured he would actually put up a good fight. But, no, he ignores the person behind him and gets a rock to the head.”

            “You mean you were watching all that? And you didn’t help?”

            “I would have helped if Kai was in danger. Probably. But I didn’t need to.”

            “If he was in danger—Ludolf was practically eating him!” she shouts at him. “If I hadn’t found that rock who knows what Ludolf would done to him!”

            “Yes, that was quite resourceful of you.”

            “Yeah, well, my friend was in danger.”

            “About that,” he says. “Most people aren’t ‘friends’ with lycans. Most people hear the word ‘lycan’ and make sure their pitchforks are adequately sharpened.”

            “I could say the same to you,” she replies. “You obviously knew about this. Most priests don’t go around cohorting with lycans. I’d say you should be the one worrying about pitchforks.”

            I stifle a laugh.

            Judas glares at her for awhile before nodding plainly and saying, “Very well. I’m going back, then.”

            He walks off without giving Jane a chance to respond, but that doesn’t stop her.

            “Aren’t you going to take your pet with you?” she calls after him.

            He doesn’t make any response.

            She groans and flops down on the ground. “I can’t believe him! What a creep! Is he always like that?”

            “Yeah,” I admit.

            We sit in silence for awhile before Jane asks, “Can you walk?”

            “I don’t know,” I tell her. “I’m going to spend the night here, though. If Ludolf wakes up again, I have to make sure he doesn’t attack anyone else. You should go, though. Your parents are probably worried about you.”

            “If you’re staying, I’m staying.”

            “Okay,” I sigh. I’ve finally learned it’s no use arguing with her once she’s made her mind up.

            She crawls back to lean against the wall of the library and curls up into a ball. I close my eyes and try to find the sleep through the blood on and around me and all the anxiety of the night.

            Eventually, I find it.

Woohoo! Second update! This is really fun to write Thoughts/comments/concerns are welcomed and appreciated!

[silversun]

I like it, looking forward to next installment.

[Vasha]

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            “I’ll see you soon,” I tell him through the tiny receiver near my mouth.

            “Smooches,” he says back, making kissy noises at me.

            “I love you too, Roy,” I say and click my cellphone shut.

            Roy. Just Roy. Always hated pet names. They’re too demeaning. Danni is different, though. Danni is a nickname, not a pet name.

            I stuff my phone into my pocket and continue my power walk through the crowded street. Shop signs flash glimpses of holiday advertisements at me as I push my way through gaggles of idle people. The occasional store has pulled me in, but each one had led to a similar disappointment. Apparently other couples weren’t as irresponsible as I was, and had gotten valentines gifts for each other before the week of, leaving not even a bouquet or box of chocolates for procrastinators such as myself. Who knew businesses in big cities could have their stocks depleted so quickly?

            By early evening, I’ve scoured every store to no avail. Every place I’ve found has been either cleared out completely, or cleared out completely except for cheesy ‘I love you’ bears, and I am not giving Roy one of those. Honestly, who wouldn’t be suspicious if their girlfriend gave them one of those? Nobody in their right mind would buy one of those, but I suppose that’s why they were the only things left on the shelf.

            I groan and stretch my legs on a picnic table next to an old burger stand. I’ve searched everywhere; what am I supposed to do? Nothing to do but give up and go home, I guess.

            Sighing, I push off and start the slow, reluctant trek towards home. I walk past posh Plateau Street, crowded Washington Avenue, and broken-down English Lane. I’m about to turn on Lily Street when one last billboard catches my eye. It advertises a small, out of the way flower shop owned by an old lady in the suburbs. I figure I have time, and it’s probably the last hope I have, so I turn around and bolt off once more through the still undissipating crowds in the direction of the address.

            Shocked faces blur past me as I run. I nimbly avoid most of the passerby, shout a frantic apology to the one I don’t, and watch as the thick clouds roll in above. Rain will be starting soon; I have to hurry. Within five or so minutes, though, the sandy concrete and scarlet bricks of the city are replaced by the green of fresh grass and the brown of tree bark. I slow to a saunter and scan the houses for any trace of the flower shop. I find it after another ten minutes of searching. It turns out she lives on the outskirts of the outskirts of the city.

            It’s not a bad place she lives in, though. Her house is cheery, made even more so by the blinding shade of pink it’s painted. Through the windows I can see curtains with sunflowers on them, and on the outside of each window are meticulously kept flower boxes, stuffed to the brim and then some. The root is made of the classic old-house gray shingles, topped off with the classic old-house rooster thing that points which way the wind is blowing.

            But what’s really interesting is not the house itself, but the giant greenhouse attached directly to it. It’s at least as big as the house itself, and the giant glass walls show a virtual jungle.

            I walk through the door and am immediately hit by a wall of humidity. The whole greenhouse is filled from floor to ceiling with only one type of flower. I’ve never seen a flower like it before. It has flowers of a deep purple color and thick, thorny vines. The flowers are as big as my head, with a dark, abysmal center. Streaks of black run down both the petals and the vines.

            I jump as a voice next to me asks, “Do you like them?”

            I nod as I turn around. Standing next to me is a frail old lady, bent down low with age. Her gray hair is pulled to the back of her head, making the many wrinkles on her face even more prominent. I’m surprised she’s actually able to stand on her own without a walker or a cane or something.

            “They’re very pretty, ma’am.”

            She cackles hoarsely. “Call me Granny Harker, dear. No need to be so formal.”

            I grin and turn back to the flowers. “What kind of flowers are these? They don’t look familiar at all.”

            “They don’t look familiar to anyone, deary.” I cringe as she calls me ‘deary’ again. “They’re flowers of my own design. I’m the only one that knows how to breed them.”

            “That’s amazing! You grew all of these from scratch, then?”

            She nods. “But I’m sure you didn’t come to hear an old coot like me talk about her flowers, did you, sweety? You came about the valentines special.”

            “My name’s Danni,” I spit with barely-covered disrespect, but she’s already hobbling away from me towards the far edge of the greenery.

            “Come, deary, I have some potted ones by the house.”

            I roll my eyes and catch up to her easily. We trudge our way over to a row of shelves lined with colorful pots with the dark plants inside them. She motions for me to choose one and starts to peck at an old fashioned cash register. I place a yellow-colored pot between us and she smiles at me.

            “That will be five dollars, deary.”

            I rustle through my wallet and frown at the lack of cash money. “I don’t suppose that thing takes credit cards?”

            Her smile widens and she ducks behind the counter. A moment later, she reappears, holding a modern run-of-the-mill register.

            I stare and blink at it for what must be at least half a minute. “If you have that, then what’s the use of that old thing?”

            Her grin practically stretches from ear to ear. “Things aren’t always what they seem. An old lady like me has to keep up with the times. The old one’s just a relic, really. It’s a bit for show.”

            She takes my card and I watch her press away at the little plastic buttons. She rings it up, I sign the receipt, and she hands me back my credit card.

            “Thanks for the flowers, Granny. I’m off to the post office, then.”

            “Oh, no, no, no, deary,” she says, getting in between me and the doorway. “The post office is too harsh for my delicate flowers. They need constant attention that the mail can’t offer. Come, I have a special delivery system.”

            Before I really know what’s going on, she starts walking toward the house, still talking. I figure I might as well follow her.

            “I have my own personal delivery system,” she continues. “Every day, David comes early in the morning to deliver whatever flowers I have for him. He does it cheap, too.”

            She leads me through the door and I’m hit with the sight of an over-cluttered kitchen. Any horizontal space that isn’t used to store food is used to store a variety of knick-knacks; any vertical space not used for cooking utensils is used for photographs and the like. Occasional holes in the clutter reveal a slowly deteriorating tile backsplash the color mud that greatly contrasts the pink-and-sunflower curtains I had noticed earlier. The chandelier flickers a bit, but is definitely bright enough to light up the room. To our left is a hallway which probably contains the doors for a bedroom or two. Past the kitchen is a tiny, old table, a small recliner with what I assume to be a black-and-white television, and a door to the back of the house. I hear rain.

            “I pay him weekly,” she says, still making her way forward, “and he comes and checks if there’s anything to deliver. Even if there’s nothing, he still comes. He’s such a nice young man.”

            Eventually we get to the back door. She opens it up and places my plant next to two or three other ones on the steps. The rain is coming down relatively fast, but it could be worse.

            Granny smiles at me as we come back inside. “Now, you must stay for dinner, deary.”

            “Oh, I should probably be heading home.”

            “Nonsense,” she says. “Not many people come and go, and I refuse to let this opportunity to give you a good feeding go by.”

            “I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”

            “It’s no trouble. I have more food in this house than I can shake a stick at. Now you’re staying to be my dinner guest, and that’s that.”

            I sigh. She’s more stubborn than I am.

            “Alright, Granny, I’ll stay. Who knows, maybe the rain’ll let up before we’re done.”

So this is a thing I started writing awhile ago that I probably won't finish. My thoughts on it:
-I tried a bit too hard to have long paragraphs
-I like Granny
-I apparently like making Dracula references in my stories
Your thoughts?

[silversun]

My thoughts:
-Granny creeps the hell out of me. I think she's going to murder Danni and hide her in the freezer, then transform into a wolf.
-Your intro is a bit unclear, at least to me. I reread it before continuing on, since I wasn't sure if Roy was narrator or not. And I didn't really get why you started talking about nicknames, seemed your characters had no real reason to. *shrug*
-I like it. I want to read the rest, should it be completed.

[Vasha]

Haha, Granny should TOTALLY creep you out Maybe not yet, but eventually she should. And nah, once something goes on hiatus, it's very unlikely that I'll ever get back to it, even if I want to, because eventually my brain starts drowning in so many new ideas that I can't go back to the old ones. But I'm glad you liked it!

[Vasha]

COMMENTS:
-This is based off a dream I had the other day. My dreams are weird, yes.
-This wasn't meant as anything serious or good or continuable, but I wanted to write something, and so, when I had this dream, I wrote it down.
-BEWARE: There is a Sherlock Holmes reference. Blame the Sherlock and the awesomeness of the quote!

(click to show/hide)

I don't know how I got here, surrounded by a never-ending darkness.

No, seriously, it's dark in here. There's no light coming from wherever the entrance to this place is. The walls are all jagged, and the black color makes them look farther off than they really are. The people around me, some of whom I recognize, are chipping away at the walls with tools I didn't even know were still used today.

And I really don't know how I got here. One moment my coworker was telling me to come with him to some sort of club or get-together or something, then the next thing I know I'm in here.

A quick search of the workers and I find the one I was talking to before this mess happened.

I try to get him to tell me what's going on, but his only reply is, "We must toil for him."

Sighing, I lean against the dirty wall and watch them chip away at the walls. After a few boring minutes, there's finally a break in the monotony. A loud whistle pierces the air. Everyone drops what they're doing and heads en masse toward an exit I'm embarrassed to admit that I hadn't seen before.

I follow after them. We go through a dimly lit hallway into a dimly lit room, but at least it's a little bit of light. Everyone sits down on long, wooden benches. I sit down near the back. It's silent.

A man enters from the other side of the room. His eyes fall to each of the people in the crowd in turn. When he sees me, the faintest hint of a smile comes across his face. It's gone as quickly as it comes, though, and he addresses the audience:

"My brethren," he says , unnecessarily loud for how quiet the room is. "Our time is coming soon. But, as I look around at our toiling, I am filled with grief. Our working is proving to be for nigh nothing. We must work harder! unless, of course, you want to return to sleep."

There's a collective moan from the group.

"Next time, do not disappoint me. We must toil for him!"

They all stand up and leave with their usual silence. Everyone except for the speaker, who walks up to me.

"It's not very often our organization has guests."

I look up at him coolly. "What are you guys, vampires or something?"

He throws his head back in a laugh/ "Well, aren't you the smart one. Most people don't get it that quickly."

"Yeah, well, I've... done my research."

"Is that so?" he asks, leaning in close to me. "Do tell, then: how'd you figure it out?"

I pull away from him and barely save myself from falling backwards. "Well, for one thing, there aren't any windows in here at all. Not in this room, or the hallway, or event in the shop up front. There are hardly even any working lights. Then there's the matter of how pale you all are. And you threatened them with sleep. No one would threaten unproductive workers with death--they would just fire them--so you had to have meant some other form of sleep. And it must be long sleep, or else it wouldn't be much of a threat. So, sleep under the ground sounds reasonable. And last: there's a stainless steel strip on the wall in the shop that nobody has a reflection in. Oh, and I think someone glamoured me to get me here."

He laughs. I watch him coldly.

"Well, aren't you interesting. Most people wouldn't even consider your conclusion an option."

"When you've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

In reply, he gives me an amused smirk.

"Is everyone who works here one of you, then?"

He nods.

"You can't force them all into sleep, then, can you? It would be kind of suspicious if the store suddenly closed while it was doing so well."
 
"Oh, don't worry, everyone here is disposable. They're easily replaced."

There's a short pause before I ask, "So, what's the mine for?"

He smiles softly. "I think that's going a bit too deep for just a guest."
 
"Well, believe me, I don't plan on becoming anything more than a guest to your vampire club or whatever you call this."
 
His smile widens. "I assure you my comment was completely harmless. Let's just say the mine is for our next big move."
 
Another pause. "I suppose I'll be going, then. I'm sure you don't mind. I doubt vampires much appreciate having company."

I stand up and start to walk away from him, but suddenly he's right in front of me again.

"Aren't you a confident one," he growls.

"Maybe. What, you going to kill me?"

He continues glowering at me for awhile, but eventually he eases up. "No, I think I'll keel you alive for awhile. You could be... entertaining ."

"Can I leave, then?"

He steps out of my way. "Now that you know our secret, would you like to quit your job? I'm sure no one would blame you."

I only take a quick second to think it over. "No. who knows, this could be--what was the word you used?--entertaining."

He laughs, or cackles, or something. "I knew there was a reason I hired you. You're lucky you're still alive. Most of the workers here can't control themselves when they get hungry."

"Well, I guess that makes me special, then."

"Now that you know our secret, it could be dangerous for you to continue working here," he warns.

"Now that I know your secret, I know how to protect myself," I retort.

That finally gets him to shut up, and I take the opportunity to leave.

[Vasha]

TRIPLE POST, COME ON, PEOPLE!

(click to show/hide)

The church looked just it did the first time I had seen it twenty years ago. It was probably even more disheveled than it used to be, but that was to be expected considering its owner, and how rarely it was used for its intended purpose.

As I opened the creaky, iron gate, my mind flooded with memories. All of them contained that priest, only one was of my best friend. To think, that I was now as old as he was when he died.

The door to the church was unlocked, as usual.

“Judas?” I called as I entered.

There was a thick layer of dust over everything. I looked in his office; it was as littered with papers as I remembered it being.

“Judas?” I asked again before heading down the stairs.

The door to his ‘workspace’ was open, something he would never allow unless he was inside. It creaked as I pulled it open further, causing Judas to start somewhat from where he was sitting in the middle of the floor. He turned to look at me and it hardly looked like had aged since I had seen him last. He looked almost exactly the same, except for a few strands of grey hair.

His face hardened as he saw me. “What are you doing here?” he spat before going back to staring at the floor in front off him. “I thought you went gallivanting off with that woman of yours.”

I sighed. “Judas, are you really still mad at me for that? It’s been almost ten years! I had to move on! Did you really expect me to stay here for the rest of my life?”

“Why not? I’m going to.”

“That’s not the same! You’ve lived your life; mine had hardly begun! You have your church and your work to hold on to. What did I have? A stack of newspapers?” He didn’t respond, so I sat down and leaned against the wall. “I went wherever your or Lilitu said, but I didn’t want to just be the person that went wherever someone pulled him. You have to understand that.”

He spared another look back at me. “So you just left? You couldn’t at least tell me where you were going?”

“I just--I had to get out! I couldn’t take another day of being your puppet! And I... I loved her...”
 
“I suppose I’m supposed to ask how she’s doing?” he said and turned back around.

“Good. She’s... good. Good, and pregnant.”

He whirled around, a hint of his usual grin back on his face. “Is that so? Congratulations, Kai. You’re a father.”

“Yeah,” I laughed nervously. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“I’m afraid that, if you’re looking for parenting advice, you’d best look elsewhere.”

“No, it’s not that! It’s just that she--And I--” I let out a long breath before trying to continue again. “Our kid... it’s going to be a lycan, right?”

He nodded.

“Then can you, I don’t know, help him somehow? Like what you did for me?”

“No,” he said simply and resumed his old posture.

“No? What do you mean no? Why not?”

“Why should I? I’ve told you many times before that, if it weren’t for Lilitu, I wouldn’t have even helped you. He apparently saw something in you, heaven only knows what. I did it for him, not for you. I feel no need to give you any assistance whatsoever.”

“What about all the time we spent together? All those ‘business trips’ you dragged me on? After all that, I haven’t earned even a small favour from you?”

“After all that, you ran off with some woman!”

“I didn’t run off with her; we got married!”

“I’m sure you will be quite happy with each other, then, and can solve all your problems together. There is nothing I can do for you.”

“Judas, please!” I moan. “I’ve seen how much changing can hurt people!  I don’t want my child to have to go through that every month! What if they can’t even survive the change right now? What if it dies? What happened to all that talk of yours about how humans are violent against lycans even though they don’t have a choice in what they are? Now you’re just going to turn a blind eye to my child as they quite possibly tear themselves apart before they’re even born? You’re just as bad as all the humans you pretend to be better than!”

He didn’t answer, so we sat in silence for what seemed like forever.

Finally, I offered: “Would you help him If I let you take back what you gave me? You can do that, right?”

He turned around all the way this time. “You would lose control of your transformations to help someone you haven’t even met?”

“Yes, I would,” I tell him seriously. “Because it’s not just someone, it’s my child: I love them, even if I haven’t met them yet, and I would do anything for them, because I’m their father. But I suppose you wouldn’t understand that.”

Thinking it over for a moment, he answered, “I’ll do it.”
 
“Really?” I asked and straightened up off the wall.
 
He nodded. “Bring your wife here as soon as possible. Preferably before the next full moon, lest your fears be realized."

“Thank you so much!”

He remained silent, so I stood up. I was out the door before he said anything.

“I haven’t been able to get much work done since you left. I suppose having you with me helped prove to my subjects that I wasn’t just another crazy person.” I knew what he was saying, but I didn’t reply.  He continued: “Is there any way I could convince you to move back to Cawthorne?”

“I have a family now, Judas. My wife is having a child. I wish you the best of luck with your research, but we’re staying where we are. We have to.”

“Alright, then. Give my regards to the missus, then, I suppose.”

“I will. Thank you.”

He didn’t say anything more when I continued up the steps. He stayed in the basement as I left the church and headed to my residence for the night.

So I tried my best to make it not sound like Judas was talking to an ex-boyfriend or something. I hope I succeeded o.o

I wasn't quite sure how to stop this, but I don't think anything would happen after this, so there you go.

I'm expecting: (most of) the people who have been following Kai for awhile to like this, and those (one?) who do not like even having a sixteen-year old Kai to hate/loathe/dislike this or something. Yes.

(click to show/hide)

Remember, when we were kids, how we always used to pretend we could see ghosts? You always had a better imagination, and sometimes you scared me, but now it’s not a game anymore. I’m seeing ghosts, but not just any ghost--your ghost.

We would cry together, we’d scream together, we’d walk together. Then you left me. Now that you’re back, we still can’t do any of those things anymore. I used to be amazed by everything you could do, but now all that you can do is haunt me. I see you in my dreams, in the mirror, I’m going insane! It’s like there’s a hole in my heart, and you’re trying to fill it, but you just can’t! Now I’m torn between you and what I know--no, what society knows, is true. I want to give you everything!

Because I’ve tried to tell myself that you’re gone, I’ve tried so hard! I still see you, though! But they tell me I’m still alone! I’m crying here alone, I’d screaming here alone, I’m walking here alone. There’s no more holding your hand, there’s no more wiping away your tears, there’s no more chasing away your fears, because you are my fears.

I guess what I’m just trying to say is I hate you. Just leave me alone. You’re dead, and now you’re dead to me.

Written in the four and a half minutes it took to listen to the Evanescence song My Immortal. I did something like this before with their songs Missing (posted as fanfiction here!) and Taking Over me, and so I figured I would do it for this one, too. Pretty much I wrote whatever came to me from the song. It was kind of odd... I like the other two better.

[silversun]

Wait, what? That's it?! That was a rather abrupt end... It feels kind of unfinished to me. I liked it, but I don't think that's a good end, it feels like the real conflict was just introduced.

[Vasha]

The ending to Reunion? Yeah, there may be more to that eventually... after Werewolves of London. And hopefully by next week I should actually be able to continue working on that.

To be honest, though, it was really just a random thing I wrote from an idea. Not meant to be long at all.

[Vasha]

Double post of awesomeness!

This is my checklist for 100 days of writing, a project where I write 500 words about a writing prompt each day for 100 days! I'll be using this to keep my progress, and I'll put links to the stories in when I have them done!

Okay, so I got this idea from Dora, but since she's very rarely never on the actual forums, I'm going to pretend I made this up! This is a project I like to call '100 Days of Writing.' It's originally an art meme, but I'm a crappy drawer, so I'm doing it for writing! Pretty much I've got these Writing Prompts (first spoiler below) and each day for 100 days I'm going to write 500 words off of one of those writing prompts! Fun, no?

(click to show/hide)

001. Introduction
002. Love
003. Light
004. Dark
005. Seeking Solace
006. Break Away
007. Heaven
008. Innocence
009. Drive
010. Breathe Again
011. Memory
012. Insanity
013. Misfortune
014. Smile
015. Silence
016. Questioning
017. Blood
018. Rainbow
019. Gray
020. Fortitude
021. Vacation
022. Mother Nature
023. Cat
024. No Time
025. Trouble Lurking
026. Tears
027. Foreign
028. Sorrow
029. Happiness
030. Under the Rain
031. Flowers
032. Night
033. Expectations
034. Stars
035. Hold My Hand
036. Precious Treasure
037. Eyes
038. Abandoned
039. Dreams
040. Rated
041. Teamwork
042. Standing Still
043. Dying
044. Two Roads
045. Illusion
046. Family
047. Creation
048. Childhood
049. Stripes
050. Breaking the Rules
051. Sport
052. Deep in Thought
053. Keeping a Secret
054. Tower
055. Waiting
056. Danger Ahead
057. Sacrifice
058. Kick in the Head
059. No Way Out
060. Rejection
061. Fairy Tale
062. Magic
063. Do Not Disturb
064. Multitasking
065. Horror
066. Traps
067. Playing the Melody
068. Hero
069. Annoyance
070. 67 percent
071. Obsession
072. Mischief Managed
073. I Can't
074. Are You Challenging Me?
075. Mirror
076. Broken Pieces
077. Test
078. Drink
079. Starvation
080. Words
081. Pen and Paper
082. Can You Hear Me?
083. Heal
084. Out Cold
085. Spiral
086. Seeing Red
087. Food
088. Pain
089. Through the Fire
090. Triangle
091. Drowning
092. All That I Have
093. Give Up
094. Last Hope
095. Advertisement
096. In the Storm
097. Safety First
098. Puzzle
099. Solitude
100. Relaxation

So... here we go!

(click to show/hide)

           “Hi, my name’s Rayan. What’s yours?”

           I rolled my eyes up to see who was bugging me this time. It was a boy with short red hair, blue eyes, an obnoxious smile, and an outstretched hand. He was at least the tenth person to welcome me to their annoyingly talkative school today.

            “Are you all this friendly, or is today just my lucky day?” I growled.

            He blinked at me a few times, unsure of how to reply.

            Sighing, I flicked a haphazard hand toward the seat across from me. “Sit down if you want; I guess I won’t stop you.”

            He fumbled a bit before obeying my suggestion. Dammit. Then, a few seconds later, he actually stopped fidgeting and actually started to look comfortable. I hardened my glare at him, but he seemed not to notice.

            “Dammit,” I muttered.

            “What was that?”

            “Nothing,” I growled again, forcing my eyes downward and trying to pretend the person in front of me was just a figment of my imagination.

            “So… why don’t you have any lunch?” he asked.

            “I’m not hungry.”

            “Are you sure? I can buy you something if you want or-“

            “I said I’m not hungry!”

            “Yikes! Okay…”

            We sat in silence for awhile. It was so quiet I dared to think he had left; I was wrong. I looked up to see if he was gone, and he must have taken that as permission to speak up again.

            “So, Derek is having a party this weekend. I figured… maybe you’d wanna come? I dunno, it could help you get to know people… or I could introduce you to some of the guys if you want, I guess.”

            I shot a glare at him. “Do I look like I want to get to know people? I’m just here to learn; I don’t want anything to do with these idiots. As soon as that last bell rings I’m out of here, I’m going to work, I’m going home to my apartment alone, and I’m going to try to forget that any of you people tried to talk to me today! Does that sound alright to you?”

            Calming myself down again, I looked at him. He was leaning so far back that he looked like he was about to fall out of his seat. The whole lunchroom was staring at me now.

            I sighed, closed my eyes, and began that forgetting I told him about. “Listen, just leave me alone, okay?”

            He didn’t respond; so, after a minute, I looked back up at him. This time I was right, and he was gone. In front of where he was sitting lay a sandwich.


            Taking it and unwrapping it, I scanned around the overflowing tables of the lunchroom. He was a few tables away, but he still caught my eye when I found him. He gave me a gentle smile as if nothing had happened.

             I didn’t return it, but I took a bite of the sandwich. It was peanut butter and jelly.

[Vasha]

Triple post

(click to show/hide)

          Lucy squealed with joy as she flew higher into the air, gripping desperately onto the edge of the tire to keep her balance. I giggled and held my hand up to my face in order to hide the smile spreading across it.

            The swing hit its highest point and sent her rushing back to the earth beneath her. Raven hair thrashed at her skin, darker than mine, then shot backward as I pushed her into the air again.

            I gave her a few more pushes before she announced that she was about to jump off and that I should watch.

            She made a perfect landing, then allowed herself to tumble onto the grass. I rushed after her as she rolled down the hill. She laughed all the way down, but I was shouting too loud at her to hear any of it. When she finally came to a stop, I was immediately at her side asking if she was okay. She merely laughed some more, sprawled herself out, and told me I was silly.

            I watched her in confusion before eventually realizing that she had let herself fall down intentionally. I laughed and matched her posture.

            We lay, watching the clouds, for awhile, before she suddenly shot a finger up at the sky, exclaiming that one of the clouds above us looked like a bunny. I pointed out that it was a bunny with only one ear and no tail, and she said that the angle at which we were seeing the rabbit made it look like it had no tail, and that the ear was bent downwards so that it was hard to see. I told her it was hard for me to picture, then pointed out a textbook cloud. She saw a bird; I saw a pencil; she saw a flower; I saw a table.

            We laughed for what seemed like forever, and could have kept laughing had it not started raining. Scrambling to our feet, we raced through the downpour to the door of my house. She won.

            My mother opened the door and told us that Mrs. Sung had just returned to pick her daughter up. We shook the water from our hair before entering, and her mother welcomed us back. She had a much thicker accent than her daughter, but I had no problem understanding her.

            Lucy crawled onto the couch next to her mother and lay down. Mrs. Sung began straightening her daughter’s ponytail, and I instinctively reached to feel my own hair, dangling down in the same fashion as hers.

             Mrs. Sung whispered softly into her daughter’s ear, and they both stood up. Mrs. Sung exited the house first and opened up an umbrella for her and her daughter. Lucy followed, but not before wrapping me in her arms and telling me that she loved me. I told her I loved her, too, and she ran out the door after her mother.

            I closed the door behind them, as slowly as possible so I could watch them for the longest time possible, before running to the window and continuing watching them from there. Mrs. Sung opened the car door for her daughter, and then ducked into the car herself. In a minute they had driven out of sight.

So, this is Caelyn and his childhood crush (you may remember her from Cael's last story, but there wasn't too much about her). I don't like how this turned out

EDIT: Come on, people, it's only 500 words!

(click to show/hide)

  Let the lights guide your way.
    A weary traveler marches on through the sultry swamp. Sweat cakes to his forehead. The sack he has been carrying all day digs itself into his shoulder; he winces and repositions it. Still he marches on.

    Let the lights guide your way.

    A glimmer near the edge of the water catches his eye. He pays it no heed, but after a few paces something draws his attention again. Finally, he approaches it, but seems to get no further towards it. Still he follows.

    Let the lights guide your way.

    Upon getting no closer in his pursuit, the wanderer takes off his pack and stops to think. As he does, the glint near the water seems to come closer to him. He watches it closely, barely moving, and beholds a small flame, no larger than that of a candle. It stops a few feet away from him; he doesn’t make a move toward it. But still he watches.
 
    Let the lights catch your eye.
 
    He watches the light, mesmerized. It begins to move away, so he stands and follows it. He doesn’t realize he’s leaving his bag behind as he does. His fingers dip into the tenebrous waters, but it doesn’t faze him. Still he follows.

    Let the lights carry you under.

    The waters stir and lap against his skin, but he continues anyways. The flame beckons him onward. It flickers ever so slightly, taunting him to continue. The water is already up to his head. Yet still he continues.
 
    Let the lights carry you under.
 
    He fights for the breath that he can’t find. He tries to open his eyes, but darkness and water cloud his vision. He tries to swim to the surface, but he can’t tell which way he should go. His throat burns and eventually he can’t stop himself from taking a breath. But there’s no air to be had. And still the fire burns.

    Let the lights burn on.
 
    The world still turns. The people still live. No one misses the one man who doesn’t show up in town the next day. No one notices that one man is gone. Still the world goes on.
 
    Let the lights guide your way.
 
    A lonely strange marches on through the dank swamp. Sweat sticks to his brow. The pouch on his shoulder digs deeper into his shoulder, so he lets it slide off and hits the ground. As he does, he notices another bag on the ground a few paces away. He walks over to it, and, seeing no one near it, calls out for its owner. No one answers. Still he calls.

    Let the lights guide your way.
 
    A glimmer of light a couple feet away catches his eye. He walks towards it to see what it is and it moves away from him. Cautiously, he looks back at the abandoned luggage on the road, then back at the light. Still he follows.
 
    No one notices that men are gone.

    Still the world goes on.

Instead of comments, I'm going to give you a chronology of how writing this went:

1)  Light, eh? That shouldn't be too hard.
2)  Yikes. Everything I'm thinking of for Light sounds a lot like Dark, but that's next!
3)  Wow, has it been an hour without writing a single word of this yet?
4)  Oh, hey! Driving to youthgroup gave me an awesome idea!
5)  Okay, I'm back from youthgroup. Now what was that idea I had?
6)  Oh yeah, that's it!
7)  Yikes, I'm barely half way there! I know! I'll extend his death, then add a bit of ANOTHER person finding his pack but not learning from it!
8 )  Woah, is there really only ten minutes until the day is done?
9)  Ugh, I don't like how this came out; I'm not going to take the time to edit it.

EDIT AGAIN:

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    At night, she looks up at the starry sky and remembers. She remembers the day that he arrived and turned her life upside down. Looking back on it now, she finds it strange how drastic a change he made in her life. She was enthralled with him, but it was more than that. She didn’t just love him, she loved what he stood for. He was something new; he was a glimmer of hope in a stagnant, unchanging world. He had proved to her that there was something bigger than the tiny island village she knew; that maybe one day she would finally be able to get beyond where she was stuck now.

    But then, just as soon as he had come, he was gone. One day she woke up and he wasn’t there. He hadn’t said anything to her, he hadn’t left a note, he hadn’t given her any sign that anything he was wrong. He just disappeared into the night.

    After that, she had allowed herself to sink into darkness. She cut herself off from the rest of those around her. She hadn’t allowed anyone to talk to her, not even those who had once been closest to her. Now, the only thing that makes her feel the same as before is looking up at the stars.

    Sighing, she leans back and watches the stars, gently shimmering dots amidst against a see of inky black. She imagines him, sitting next to her though he’s far away. She imagines he’s holding her hand, and she leans against him. She smiles gently and whispers to him.

    You’ll never be alone.

    Hundreds of miles away, a young man looks up at the same starry sky, and dwells on his own memories. He remembers the one village that was special. He had been to hundreds if not thousands of towns before that one, but all of them had left him the same--dark, empty, searching.

    When he entered the village, it was just like all the others. Empty people walked around living their empty, meaningless lives. They were all blind, stumbling along in the darkness, with no hope of finding the light.

    But then he met her.

    She was different. A glimmer of hope in a stagnant, unchanging world. She was unlike anyone else he had ever seen. She was stable, yet kind. She was unsure of herself, yet she was resolute about what she knew.

    But he had to leave. He was a free spirit; he couldn’t bare to stay in one place for too long, even if it was where she was. He had thought of asking her to come with him, but he knew she would turn him down. She had a life, she had a world where she knew, where she felt comfortable. He was something new, something strange and unwelcome. Spending time together where she lived was one thing, asking her to leave everything she knew and follow him into the unknown world was another.

    Sighing, he leans back and watches the stars, remembering that she’s under the same sky, and that she’s probably watching it just like they did when they were together. She imagines her, sitting next to him, and he moves his hand onto hers. She smiles at him, so he wraps his arm around her. They look at each other and he whispers:

    You’ll never be alone.

                                                 No, you’ll never be alone.
             When darkness comes I’ll light the night with stars.
                                              Hear the whispers is the dark.
                                                       You’ll never be alone.
                                      When darkness comes you know I’m never far
                                                                   Hear the whispers in the dark.

Originally this was going to be something with Sara, then i decided that I didn't want to do another one with her so soon.
Then it was going to be heavily based off of 'Whispers in the Dark' by Skillet.
Then it turned into this

But, yeah, totally check out that song. It rocks

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            There’s a girl in the corner of the lunchroom. She’s sitting all alone. People pass her by as if they can’t even see her; those who do acknowledge her existence only doing so by jeering at her. During the day she puts on a strong face and pretends she doesn’t mind what they say, but at night, when the doors of her bedroom are closed, she can’t stop the hurt she feels from flowing out of her. She uses whatever she can find—drugs, alcohol, a knife—to try to ease the pain, but none of it works.

            A few tables away there’s another girl. On the outside, she’s a perfect student amd a perfect person. She gets good grades, she hangs out with her friends, she laughs and shows off that perfect smile of hers whenever someone tells a joke. But, on the inside, she’s breaking. She hasn’t swallowed a bite of food in over two weeks. She looks at herself in the mirror and words like ugly or worthless come to mind. The only time she ever feels like she means something is when her boyfriend is over, and she’s giving her body over to him.

             A boy passes by: the captain of the football team. But that’s not his choice, it was his dad’s. Guys play sports, is what his dad told him, and so that’s what he has to do. He wouldn’t want to let his dad down, and he certainly wouldn’t want the other guys to think any less of him because he doesn’t play a sport. If he was honest, he would tell you that he hates it. But he’s lived the lie for so long now, he’s starting to believe it himself. He plays football, he has a hot girlfriend, he spends five days a week at the gym, and he hides his feelings behind an apathetic exterior. Because that’s what guys do.

           He sits down next to a girl. Around her, there are hundreds of students, but she still feels alone. No one congratulates her when she gets another perfect score on the math test; no one tells her how cute she looks when she decides to pull her hair back in a pony tail. The few people she calls friends may give her a passing greeting every once in a while, but none of them are ever there when she needs to talk, or when she needs comforting. Sometimes she thinks it would be better if she just stopped waking up. She’s sure nobody would even notice.

             There’s the kid in the hallway getting beaten up because he’s too different to be popular and too weak to defend himself. No one pays him any attention; they just look the other way and keep on walking.

            And then there’s you. You see all these people, you may even notice that some of them are hurting, but you don’t do anything. They’re fine, you lie to yourself. If you tried to help them, you would be stepping out of your comfort zone. You wouldn’t just be another face in the crowd Everybody would know you’re weird; everybody would be able to see you were different. So, you just keep on walking.

             You keep your peace, and let those around you keep on looking for it. Eventually, maybe, if it’s not too late, they’ll find it. But you’re certainly not going to offer up yours. And if one of them gets hurt, sure, you didn’t do anything, but that’s okay, right? You may not have helped them, but you didn’t actively hurt them, so it’s not your fault.

             Right?

So... yeah. I'm kind of happy with how this one turned out? It fits with the theme, because all of these people are seeking comfort/solace, but not getting it! Because people are selfish and don't want to go out of their bubble >o>;;

[Vasha]

Quadruple post -is starting if he should even bother updating here anymore-

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            It’s a strange feeling when one moment you’re being run over by a car and the next moment you’re staring up into the face of an overly-dressed, emotionless kid. And that’s really about all I know. I’ve got no memories between the two, and the memories I have before dying (yeah, I’m pretty sure I died?) are distant and far off, like they belong to a whole different person.

            Okay, I guess I’m getting ahead of myself. This is just so messed up; it’s hard to think straight some times.

            I didn’t get a good look at the car that hit me, much less the person driving it. It was probably some drunken teenage idiot.

            It all goes black after that, and then the next thing I know I’m lying on the ground in what looks like some kind of all-gray office. There’s some creepy kid watching me, dressed like he owns the place. He’s got the demeanor for it, too. All straight-faced and no nonsense.

            “You’re awake,” he says when he sees me try to pick myself up off the floor.

            “Yeah. Who’re you?” I ask, eyeing him up.

            “Abidan.”

            “Abidan? Ain’t that kind of a weird name for a kid?”

            In answer, he just points a finger at me and repeats the word.

            “What? No, my name is Jordan. Not Abidan.”

            “No. Your name is Abidan.”

            “Look, kid: I don’t know what you’re trying to play at, but I know my own name. I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m getting out of here.”

            I stand the rest of the way, trying not to fall over as I do, and make my way toward the doors that I can only hope are the way out of here. They don’t budge.

            The kid ruffles through his pocket and holds out a key. “I’m your boss,” he says like it’s nothing.

            I can’t help but crack a smile at that as I turn towards him. “Kid, I’m old enough to be your dad. You’re not my boss; I’ve already got a job and it’s not working for you.”

            “What is it?” he asks.

            I try to think of my job, and suddenly a sharp pain shoots through my head and I crumple to the floor.

            “What’s your job?” he asks again, the same as the first time.

            I glare at him and I can tell that this is all his fault, that he’s enjoying this. Lunging forward and grabbing him by the collar, I lift him off the ground with ease.

            “Listen, you little punk. I have no clue what’s going on or where I am, but you’re going to tell me.” I add an, “Or else,” for good measure, though I honestly have no idea what I could possibly do to him.

            He smiles for the first time and actually licks his lips. He dangles the key to the door in front of my face and I snatch it out of his hands. I fumble it into the keyhole and the doors finally give way. I run into the halls (they’re gray, too), but I have no idea where I’m going. For awhile I just run.

            That’s when I see my first other sign of life in this weird gray place. It’s a girl, maybe about eighteen, with long white hair and slate gray eyes. She has the same blank face as the crazy kid, but somehow it’s… different.

            “In here,” she says, and I realize she’s standing right next to a door.

            I take a wary look in the direction I came from before ducking into the room she pointed out. The room is dark, but almost as soon as I come in, the lights turn on.

            “Gyuh, who’s there?” I hear from somewhere near one of the walls.

            I look towards the voice and my eyes match those of another person. He’s sitting up in a bed (with no shirt on) and watching me. He scratches his messy, brown hair and makes some tired noises. Slowly, it dons on him that there’s someone in what I can only assume is his bedroom.

            “Dammit, I was sleeping!” he yells.

            I try to shush him, but he only gets angrily out of his bed and glares at me.

            “Don’t shush me! You just broke into my room!”

            “I’m sorry!” I shout in a useless attempt at quieting him. “Someone told me to hide in here! Please, just let me stay until that kid is gone!”

             He gives me a confused look and makes some sort of unintelligible noise. He pokes his head out of the door for a few seconds, then looks at me and says, “There’s nobody out there.”

            “Wh- What?” I stammer. “That’s impossible! There was a girl! And she told me to come in here!”

            “A girl, eh?” he laughs and gets the slightest bit of a grin on his face. It’s gone as soon as it came, though, and he asks, “So, what’s your name?”

            “It’s Jordan,” I tell him.

            “Jordan? What kind of a name is Jordan?”

            “It’s a lot more normal than ‘Abidan,’” I point out.

            He hardly seems to notice. “You’re that new kid I’ve been hearing about, then?”

            “I- I guess? I just woke up here! Geeze, does everybody know what’s going on here except for me?” I whimper and almost buckle to the floor again.

            “Yeah, sort of,” he offers. A moment later he seems to realize something, and confirms, “You don’t know what’s going on here? You don’t know where you are or anything?”

            “No! I thought I died but now I’m here and I don’t know! Oh geeze,” I whine, “Am I in hell?!”

            “No. Close, though,” the man laughs, then suddenly grabs hold of my shoulders and looks me straight in the eyes. “Don’t worry; I’ll help you get back home. Just go back to your life and forget any of this ever happened to you.”

            I look up at him. The gravity in his voice reminds me just how scared I am, and I feel tears start to well up in my eyes.

            “Dammit, don’t cry! You’re going to get through this.”

            “But I can’t even remember my life! How am I supposed to live my life when I can’t remember it?”

            “You’ve just got to trust me. Hold onto those memories.” He sighs, and I catch the faintest glimpse that this is just about as unnerving to him as it is to me. “Just… close your eyes; remember where you live.”

            I obey and try to picture my apartment. There’s clutter all over the place because I’ve been promising myself I’ll clean it up on the weekend for the past month now. In the kitchen, both sinks are filled with dirty dishes because I never got around to buying soap. My bedroom is the only place that’s actually clean, and it’s insanely so. Whenever I was at home, I spent most of my time in my bedroom, so I forced myself to at least keep that room tidy.

            “Are you thinking of it?” his voice cuts in. I nod. “Good.”

            Suddenly everything goes cold. I open my eyes and my head starts to spin. It feels like I’m drowning, but there nothing around me. Nothing at all. It’s just black. I can see the room I was just in, but it’s blurry and far away. I try to call out to the man who was just next to me but my words get caught up in my throat.

            And just like that, it’s all over. I’m lying on my bed, staring at a swirling pool of… black.

            I’m home. I don’t know how or why or what happened, but I’m finally home.

            Bit by bit, I let everything that just happened to me sink in. It’s hard to tell if it was all real or just some sort of bad dream or something in between, but at least I know it’s over.

            Sighing, I fall back onto my bed and immediately fall asleep.

So... while writing this, I really liked it. I still like it, but it feels kind of rushed. Or is that just me?

Can y'all guess whose room Jordan happened to break into?

So, yeah, this fits cuz Jordan/Abidan had to break away from Kanzah? Credit for the idea goes to Doragon, or at least for inspiring the idea

[Vasha]

Since I have tons of these to put up now that I've been gone for a week and nobody seems to be reading them anyways, I'm going to stop updating here. If you actually care tell me so, or you can just read them on my facebook. So... yeah.

[Vasha]

Hey guess what guys? I wrote again!

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   The synthetic chime of the doorbell set off a hound howling on the other side of the door. Multiple voices yelled to silence it, and two seconds later the locks unlatched and the door swung open. As soon as it did, a wave of scents crashed over me with blinding force. The smells of roasting meet, animal hair, and nauseously artificial fragrances tangled together in the air, so thick I could almost taste it.

   When the fetor subsided, I saw my coworker, Joseph, watching me expectantly. Presuming he just invited me in, I stepped across the threshold and offered him a confident smile.

   “Everything okay, man?” he laughed and shut the door behind me.

   I nodded. “Yes. I was simply adjusting to the changing light.”

   He accepted my coat, and then led me past the set dinner table and into the hot, crowded kitchen. Excluding my guide and me, there were seven people in total, six of whom were standing around the counter chattering and nibbling on hors d'oeuvres. The other guest, a girl of maybe twenty-three, was sitting on the outskirts of the table and swinging her legs, wistfully watching the rest of the group.

   “Aah, Michelle!” Joseph exclaimed to a beautiful brunette woman across the room. “Come meet my friend I told you about. Michelle, this is Seth; Seth this is Michelle.”

   Smiling, Michelle offered and her hand and cooed, “Nice to meet you, Seth.”

   “And you, Madame,” I offered, bending down to press my lips against her warm, pulsing hand. Then, I bit my tongue and compulsively declared, “You have ten places on the table.” The two stared at me. I did my best to cover by quickly adding, “You must be expecting another guest.”

   “Yes. Two, actually,” Michelle answered and clumsily cast a glance at her husband.

   “Well, we have to get back to mingling. You know how it is at parties and stuff.”

   As they left, I noticed the outcast girl now standing behind where they had just been. She turned to look at me and scoffed.

   “Not too good at counting, are you, Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome?”

   My brow furrowed to glare at her. “I never miscount. There are nine people in this house, ten places set, and two more expected.”

   She started at my responding to her, but kept her eyes locked on me. When she regained composure, she came close enough that I could tell there was no warmth radiating from her. Her eyes crawled over me, and she rounded me twice before stopping in front of me and pouting.

   “There’s just one problem with your calculations, handsome.”

   “And what would that be?”

   “I’m not really here.”

   Within an instant, she had disappeared into thin air.

   When I had taken five seconds to realize what had just happened, I became aware that there were people staring at me. I did my best to form a disarming smile and made my way into the mob. None of them knew me, and with our mutual host and hostess preoccupied with the meal, none of them had the courage to break from their groups to introduce themselves to the pale newcomer. I happily employed myself with pretending to eat some sort of meat-and-lettuce wrap, enjoying the anonymity a crowd even of this size offered me.

   Suddenly I noticed a sharp smell festering into the air. I turned behind me to see Joseph next to his wife, with that familiar red trickle running down her finger.

   I was right beside her in an instant.

   “Go clean that off, honey. I’ll finish this up,” Joseph said from the other side of her. Then he saw me. “You want something, dude?”

   “Is there anything I can assist you with?” I asked without looking at him, still fixated on the cut on his wife’s hand.

   “Yeah,” he responded, seeming not to notice my behavior. “Take these to the table.”

   I felt him place a platter in my hands, and felt my body mechanically move to the table and set it down. I then climbed the steps and soon found myself outside the bathroom where Michelle was bandaging her wound. It was covered up now, but I could still smell the blood beneath the thin layer of fabric. I was barely conscious of the woman in front of me saying something.

   “Seth. Did you need something?”

    I aroused myself from my stupor long enough to look from her cut to her face and form the lie, “Joseph sent me to check on you.”

   “How sweet of him,” she replied, with no air of belief in her voice. She brushed past me and demanded, “I’m fine.”

   I turned to watch her leave, but only managed to catch sight of the woman from before now sitting on the edge of the steps.

   “Can I just say, ‘Holy awkward?’” she laughed. “That was the most uncomfortable conversation I’ve ever seen.”

   I scowled at her. “Is there something you would like, or are you simply going to go on interrupting me as you’ve been doing?”

   “Well, I’ve been thinking. You’re obviously dead, but you’re not, like, dead dead, so what kind of dead are you? You’re obviously not a zombie; that would just be crazy. And you’re definitely not a ghost. Even ghosts aren’t this doom-and-gloom.”

   I paused a moment to try and interpret her rapid speech. “And how have you come to the conclusion that I’m obviously dead?”

   “Well, you can see me.”

   I was about to respond when Joseph appeared at the bottom of the stairs and called, “You coming, Seth?”

   I nodded to him, determined that it was better to simply ignore this strange woman, and made my way down the steps. The chairs around the table were all filled now, except for one across from Michelle and Joseph that was reserved for me. The food was all set out, including mashed potatoes, baked carrots, rolls, and still-pink roast beef—all things that I would have to feign to eat.

   Michelle loured at me as I sat down, but nobody else noticed.

   “Well, dig in everyone,” Joseph announced to the table, who all promptly obeyed.

   When everyone had had a chance to absorb themselves in stuffing their faces, I decided it would be an opportune time to gather some information on the mysterious woman tagging me.

   “This is a very lovely house you have,” I told Joseph with a smile.

   Joseph returned the smile; Michelle replied with a cold, “Thank you.”

   “Such an old house must have quite a history. I’d love to hear all the fascinating secrets you two have found.”

   Joseph obliged, despite his wife’s warning glance. “Well,” he said, leaning across the table. “There has been some pretty weird stuff happening. Michelle doesn’t like me saying it, but I think this place might be haunted.”

   “You don’t say?” I heard the woman’s voice from behind me.

   I gave a soft smile. “A ghost? Is that so?”

   He nodded. “Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I think I hear her talking, and sometimes when I leave something somewhere I come back and it’s not there anymore.”

   “Yup,” the woman laughed. “It’s actually really fun watching him freak out  when I do that.”

   “Haven’t you tried ridding the house of her—the ghost?” I asked, ignoring the constant interruption behind me. “Exorcism or something similar?”

   “Ghosts don’t exist,” Michelle insisted. “We’re not wasting our money on some superstitious hag chanting a bunch of nonsense and claiming to have gotten rid of something that was never there in the first place.”

   “What makes you so certain that ghosts don’t exist?”

   “What makes you so certain they do?”

   “There are things in this world,” I told her coolly, “That not even your nightmares could form. I’ve seen things throughout my life that would make you tremble with fear. I know ghosts are real because I know there are things far more terrible than any ghost could ever be.  Ghosts are only the tip of the iceberg.”

   As I finished talking and took my attention off of her, I noticed the whole table was now staring at me. I made no attempt this time to hide my speech, but instead remained intently focused on the couple across from me, who were both giving me looks far more absurd than those from the guests.

   Suddenly the woman materialized behind Joseph, an idiotic grin plastered all over her face.

   “I get it! You’re a vampire! Gosh, I’m stupid.” I didn’t respond, but merely raised my gaze up to her as a glare. “You know, it all makes sense now. You know, with that whole ‘Ooh, you just cut yourself; I’m going to stalk you now’ deal. But, seriously, you’re a pretty horrible vampire. What vampire goes to dinner parties? Aren’t the people here pretty much supposed to be your dinner party?”

    My face immediately mollified and I could feel my expression change to one of pleading.

   “No, please, don't do this.”

   “I mean, just think of all that hot, fresh blood right beneath that thin little band-aid.”

   When she mentioned the blood, my senses were immediately flooded with its smell. It started off softly, only the scent of that one small cut on her finger, but it finally grew over me until I could smell and almost hear the blood coursing through the veins of everyone around me. My world shrunk down in that moment to myself, the ghost in front of me, and the intoxicating smell of real sustenance. It had been far too long since I had fed.

   “You know, call me crazy, but I've always wondered what it was like for you people, sucking the blood out of a living human being.”

   My attention drew to her, and I noticed that her expression was as normal as it could be, as if she were not meaning to play the part of my temptation.

   I heard a sound like the snapping of a twig, and looked down to see a body, head contorted unnaturally backwards, fall limp out of my hand. Then came the sound of sweet, melodious screams and people tumbling over chairs to get away from me as quickly as possible. I was right behind them in an instant, tearing their warm flesh apart like it was paper and splattering my face and clothes with their sticky blood.

   I heard a woman shriek from behind me and even through my stupor I could tell it was Michelle. Sweet, stupid Michelle. With fangs bared in a wild grin, I turned around and lunged at her, easily catching her by the neck. It looks not even half a minute of crushing for her breathing to end.

   And then, at last, there was Joseph. I turned on him and he almost fell over a chair behind him. He pushed it between us; I threw it across the table and it shattered against the wall. He was whimpering and crying for some mercy like some caged animal, it was truly pathetic.

   Once he had backed himself against the wall, I thrust myself at him. He made no attempt to protect himself besides raising his hands to his face and cowering. I almost went straight for his throat, before deciding to have some fun with my last prey.

   I stooped down in front of him and offered a smile that was anything but comforting.

   “I wanted to thank you for inviting me into your house, Joseph. The meal has been simply exquisite.”

   He didn't even bother to look at me when he hissed, “You’re a monster.”

   I scoffed. “You wound me.”

   When I placed my hand on his shoulder to draw him closer, I could feel his entire body clench. That only made my smile widen as I sank my teeth into his soft neck-flesh and blood began to trickle out.

   As the first taste of blood wetted my tongue, my sanity came rushing back to me.

   Finding myself at Joseph's neck, I threw him hard away from me and scrambled backwards. As I did, my hand slipped on a pool of blood and I fell across a mutilated corpse. Quickly, I scrambled to my feet and flung myself at the door. As soon as I was out the door, I collapsed and proceeded to vomit in the yard.

   Nine dead bodies and one traumatized lost friend.

   “Wow, that was brutal,” I heard from behind me. My gut wrenched and my fists clenched.

   “Leave me.”

   “You don't do this very often, do you?”

   “Whatever gave you that idea? Was it the pool of vomit or the fact that I'm currently considering making the world a safer place and putting a stake through my heart?”

   “All I'm saying is that you seem pretty unused to this.”

   I whirled on her and barely kept myself from attempting to rip her throat out. “Did you ever think that was because I do not wish to become used to this? That maybe I do not wish to leave a trail of blood for the rest of eternity? That maybe it was unwise to stir the hornet's nest?”

   She didn't respond, and so I continued to glare at her silently.

   Finally, she said hesitantly, “I want to get out of this house. Could I... stay with you?”

   I was speechless. “You've seen what I am capable of, and you know nothing about me except that I'm a ruthless killer that can end the lives of an entire household in minutes, and yet you wish to live with me? Why would I even accept your offer?” I asked her, then shouted, “You're the whole reason this happened!”

   She tried to hide her flinch. “Because you're lonely,” she told me softly. “I know what it's like to be on the outside of the world, and not have anyone there with you. I know how angry that can make you. The truth is, if I could have done what you just did, I would have done it long ago.

   “Besides!” she added quickly, all of a sudden quite cheerful. “Even if you decide to go on a murderous rampage again, you can't hurt me!” To prove her point, she reached out her hand and waved it through my arm. I didn't feel anything as she did. “I'm a ghost! Not even you can touch me!”

   I closed my eyes and tried to ponder the ramifications of accepting her offer, but when I did, all I could see was the bloodbath I had created inside the house, the look on Joseph’s face as I came ever closer to slaughtering him. I opened my eyes quickly and decided that anything was better than continuing this life, and if she could offer the assistance she claimed she could then there was more help than harm that would come out of this agreement.

   “You may stay,” I allowed coolly. “But I reserve the right to remove you from my house whenever I see fit, and you must cease your incessant chatter. I have lived alone for 253 years, and I am not about to renounce my silence on your behalf.”

   She began jumping up and down and clapping her hands like a giddy school child, and I realized that this was going to be a very long process.

   “Ooh, thank you, Seth! You won't regret it! By the way, my name is Julia, but you can call me Jules. Wow, I've never roomed with a vampire before.”

   She continued prattling, but I sighed and determined it would be easier to ignore her than to constantly tell her to be silent. With one last look through the window at the massacre I had created, I went to my car, turned the key in the ignition, and drove away.

So... yeah. This was based off another dream that I had, which in turn was probably inspired by watching Being Human (which also had an adorably awkward scene involving dinner parties and vampires) and my brother mentioning how, in very early lore, vampires would have to count anything set in front of them.

These three were kind of fun to write. I haven't planned anything more with them, but I may return to it eventually. Who knows.

So... yeah. The phrase 'holy awkward' (which I admit that I actually use occasionally) is kind of like a mix between 'holy crap' and 'awkward'... like 'holy crap, that was awkward.' Usually when I say it, it's "Holy awkward, that was wholly awkward." It's great fun!And that's about all, so I'm gonna shut up now.