Matty Was Missing

Matty was missing.
For someone who was missing, I couldn’t run away from him, even if I wanted to.
We lived in a small town, where everyone knows everyone and everything. So, when Matty went missing, the missing person posts went everywhere the next day, was all the local news talked about.
Everyone had their idea of where he was. That he ran away. That he killed himself. That the serial killer, the Night Wriath, got him. Afterall, he’d killed teenage boys in the counties near us.
I shook my head at each speculation, because Matty was still alive for all we knew.
He had to be alive…
Afterall, there was no evidence to say otherwise. All anyone knew was that Matty’s blue Volkswagen Beatle was found, abandoned, in a mall parking lot. That he hadn’t made any purchases since he’s been missing. That I was the last person to see him.
He was happy then. It had been a full moon, and as we were both Wiccan, we did Full Moon Rituals for happiness and prosperity, and he left my house with his big smile on his face. Yeah, it was late, midnight or so, but he always left late like that.
I held onto the pentacle Matty had given me, it was on a black string, with letter beads that spelled out, “Willow”, my name.
I relied on the white magic behind Wicca. I tried every spell I could think of. I begged my Patron Goddess, Freya, to find him.
But Matty was still missing and it had been a week.
One night I fell to the ground, and I cried out, “If there is anyone out there, good, evil, help me find Matty!”
I cried a long time, and I guess I eventually fell asleep.
When I dreamt, I was in a forest that I’d never been in. I felt ike there was a string attached to me, and someone was pulling me along through the forest, until the pull stopped in a clearing.
When I looked in front of me, I screamed.
Matty was looking at me with lifeless, white eyes, his head on the ground. The rest of his body was in pieces, scattered around me.
I jolted awake, and started to get out of bed to turn a light on, as if that would chase away the nightmare. But, when I did, I saw dirt in my bed, and covering my legs. I jumped onto the floor, and stepped away from the bed, but I wished I stayed in bed.
When I looked down, Matty’s lifeless head was looking up at me, and his body was spread around him. There was a brown book next to him.
I look at Matty again, so I pushed him under my bed. I picked up the book, and saw that the title was, “Spells.”
There was a piece of paper wedged in it like a bookmark, and I turned to that page. The page said, “A Spell of Resurrection.”
There was no way that this was white magic, it couldn’t be.
I saw that the piece of paper read, “You’re Welcome. ~Asmodeous.” A demon. This was black magic.
But Matty wasn’t missing. Matty was dead, and he was under my bed.
Matty was my first love, and we had two amazing years together. I needed Matty.
I had to do the spell. I had to use black magic.
The spell read, “Requirements: needle and thread, chalk, knife, five candles, and one soul.”
But, if it took my soul to bring Matty back, then I would do it.
I looked down at Matty, and I closed his white eyes. I gritted my teeth as I picked up each body part and sewed Matty’s body back together.
I drew a pentagram, along with the required symbols around it. I then placed the candles on each point of the star. I lit the candles, and cut my palm, dripping blood on Matty.
In a shaky voice I read the spell outloud.
After I spoke the words, nothing happened. I sighed. I was feeling numb all over. I was like an empty shell.
Suddenly Matty’s fingers twitched, and then his hands closed and opened, and then his eyes opened, no longer white, but blue and full of life!
He groaned and started to sit up.
“Matty…” I whispered. But, I saw that I was no longer in my body. I was next to my body, but when tried to touch Matty, my hand went through him.
He sat up, and the thread I had sewn him together with faded, and he was completely back to life.
He looked in horror as he saw my lifeless body. He cradled my body in his arms, screaming, “Willow!” Over and over again.
I was screaming, but he couldn’t hear me.
My parents ran in, shocked, and rushed to my now, lifelfess body, being held by the now, full of life Matty.
I screamed, but no one could hear me.
The floor suddenly cracked open, with fire crackling. Matty didn’t seem to see it.
A grey-skinned man with long black hair flew out of the crack on black wings. He tipped a wide brimmed hat. “Nice to meet you.”
“Asmodeous,” I said. “What have you done?”
“Me?” He said and laughed. “That was all you. You asked, and you received.”
“But what’s happened to me?”
“Well, let’s see…” He snapped his fingers and the Spell Book was in his hands. He opened it to the Resurrection Spell page. “Requirements: Needle and thread, blah, blah, blah, and…OH,, and what’s this? A soul.”
“But, doesn’t that happen when I die?”
“It happens when I want your soul, and I want your soul…” He said softly and slowly, but in a furious flap of his wings he was in front of me. His eyes were ablaze with a orange fire and he roared, “NOW!”
Featured image source

The Fey Danced The Night Away

It wasn’t the first time that my mom threw a plate at me, it was the first time I threw one back at her. I didn’t want to find out what she was going to throw at me next, and that’s why I ran away from home.

Running out the back door, I could still hearing her screaming, so I kept running. I ran through the backyard, and into the woods behind our house. Tears blurred my vision, and I didn’t stop until I couldn’t hear her screams.

I finally looked around me, and away from the streetlights and porch lights, it was the darkest night I had ever seen. I could only see the faint grey shapes of trees.

I was lost, and as much as it frightened me, I also felt at ease. The forest seemed safer than my mother did.

I took a few steps, deeper into the forest, and that’s when I heard faint music! Flutes and drums and accordions playing somewhere in the distance.

I thought maybe I was going insane, but, what did I have to loose?

I wandered forward, and the music got louder. I saw light through the branches, and that lanterns hung on tree branches and illuminated the area.

There was a large circular clearing where the grass and brush was worn down. In the clearing was a party.

There were creatures dancing all around. They were beautiful. Some had a pale skin tone, that seemed to glitter under the lantern light, and others had skin in hues of green and purple and blue. All of them had wings like dragonflies on their backs.

On the edge of the circle, five of the creatures were playing music.

I realized that they were of the fey. But these faeries were unlike any faeries that I had heard of. These were as tall as humans.

Only one of them seemed to notice me, and he was the most gorgeous boy I had ever seen, though, he was no boy. He was definitely a faerie.

He had a cascade of wild black hair that fell in waves along his shoulders. His skin was pale, but glittered with gold glints, and he had large golden-tinted wings on his back. He wore an open brown vest, and a pair of loose brown pants that ended in a ragged edges at his knees.

I walked out of the trees, and some of the others noticed me.

“Join us! Join us!” Some of them cried out.

My first thought was that I didn’t know how to dance, and then my second thought was that I wasn’t sure if any of this was real at all.

But, then the gorgeous faerie boy stepped out of the circle, and he held out his hand with a wide smile on his face. “Dance with me, lovely.”

It wasn’t a question, but I’m sure he knew the answer.

I took his hand, and it felt so warm in my hand, and the heat radiated throughout my body. It was such a welcome feeling from the cold, dark forest that I was in moments ago.

“What is your name, lovely?” He asked me.

“Mara,” I told him. “And, you?”

“I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” he said with a wink, and I felt a chill run across my skin.

He pulled me into the circle, and I was in the middle of the raucous crowd of dancing faeries. His hand still held one of mine, and the other was around my waist.

Before I could wrap my arm around his waist, someone passed a cup to me.

The liquid in the cup glowed yellow like the sun, and smelled sweetly. I took a sip, and then another, and soon the cup was empty. It tasted like honey, and sugar cookies, and warm summer days.

I was given another cup, but the boy took it from me. “You can’t drink too much, else you won’t make it through this night.”

“But it was so good,” I whined. “I want more. I need more.”

“If it is misfortune that you wish,” he said, and handed the drink back to me.

I gulped it down, and soon the cup had emptied, and I tossed it to the ground.

My head felt light, but my feet felt lighter. I felt like I could dance the night away.

This night was amazing, I wanted to remember this night, each and every moment, and I never wanted to leave, and I realized I had said all of those things out loud.

“Well, then we shall not waste a moment,” he said, and he spun me around, and soon we were lifting off of the ground, dancing in the air thanks to his wings.
We danced for a while before we landed to the ground.

I broke away from his grasp, spinning around, and around on my own accord.

I stole a cup of the glowing drink from a faerie, and I drank it so fast that it dribbled down the sides of my mouth.

Everything blurred around me.

My feet were not my own, they were a slave to the flutes and drums and accordion music.

I don’t know how long I danced until my legs ached, and I needed to catch my breath, but I couldn’t stop dancing. But, at the same time all I wanted to do was dance.

I kept dancing, around, and around, and around again until I felt my body giving out from under me. Dawn peaked out from behind the trees, and I fell to the ground.

My eyes closed on their own. My breath was sallow, and I realized that I was dying.

“She shouldn’t have drank so much of our nectar,” I heard someone say.

“Greedy, greedy.”

“Not the first.”

“Won’t be the last.”

I felt a hand on mine, and I weakly opened my eyes to see the faerie boy.

“I am sorry, lovely. But, you didn’t listen.”

He kissed my lips before everything went black.

Featured image: Enchanted Ways

The Pirate Treasure

I was already at the Pirate King at age sixteen. I ruled the seas. I guess I thought that all that I wanted was all the gold, gems, and riches of the world.

But I learned there were some things in this world that were more important than the wide blue ocean.

There were some things more of a treasure than and the gold and gems in treasure chests.

 

There was something more important that bump, ba, bumped in my body.

 

It happened one day. It was the first time I met him that I truly felt alive.

The ship wasn’t headed in any direction. We left it afloat. I lounged in a lifeboat that was tethered to my ship.

I had fallen asleep when I suddenly felt water on my face. I sat up and saw a fin lower in to the water.

It’s some dolphin, I’m sure, I thought.

When suddenly a boy turned to me. He smiled widely. Had had wet tangles of Light brown hair around his face. He was beyond beautiful.

“What are you doing in the water?” I asked. We were in the middle of nowhere, and I didn’t recognize him from my crew.

 

“Swimming,” he said. “What else?” His voice was so goddamn cheerul.

 

“Well, come–” I started to say. I was going to invite him on board.

 

But he leaned back, his hands behind his bed, and he floated on top of the water, and a tail fin rose from the water. I followed the fin all the way up to his waist.

 

2

(The First Meeting)

“There’s no way…” I muttered.

 

“What that mermaids exist?” He said and laughed. “Of course I do.”

 

He grabbed onto my boat, and tipped it over. I cried out as I fell into the sea. “What the hell?”

 

“Get your sea legs, captain,” he said and winked.

 

“I’m no Pirate Captain, merman–” I said in between heavy breathes as I doggy paddled to wade the water.

 

“Well, Captain, I’m not just a merman, my name is Aranis,” he said.

 

“I told you! I’m not a Captain! I am Diarmud the Pirate King!”

 

“Pirate King, huh?” He asked. “Impressive”

 

“Quite so, Aranis.” I managed to climb back into my boat, and I sat in it.

 

“Well, if we’re being technical…my name is  Prince Aranis. I live in the Underwater Realm of Atlantis where I will someday rule as King.”

 

“So, I rule the seas up here,” I said and gestured around. “And you will rule the waters down below?”

 

“Correct,” he said with a grin. “Well, I’ll be off!” And just as quickly as he came, he ducked down into the waters.

 

“Wait!” I cried out. My heart was beating in a manner I’d never known. It felt like my greatest treasure of all was sinking into the seas.

 

“What?” He said as he came back to the surface.

 

I felt relief flood my body as I saw his gentle face, his soft blonde hair, and his chiseled physique. I was starting to fell the effects of what I once thought was a myth, a fiction. But I was thinking that this was love at first sight.

 

“I’ll be back,” he said with a wink, and then he swam down below.

 

“Drop anchor!” I shouted. “The ship stays here!”

 

“Aye, aye captain!” My crew replied.

***

And at the same time the next day, Aranis returned.

 

“Hello,” he said, holding the sides of my boat.

 

“Aranis,” I said. “If I may be so forward: I missed you…”

 

“Even if that is so,” he said. “Nothing can ever come of this, my King.”

 

“As King of these Seas, what I want can happen, Aranis.”

 

He smiled softly, and lifted himself up, and he leaned into my face, kissing me softly. I kissed him back and we never stopped.

***

It was like this for days.

 

3

(The days spent in love)

But soon my crew grew tired of staying in the same place, and we were running low on supplies.

 

“Come with me,” I told Aranis.

 

“But it cannot be?”

 

“I have found a way, my pet,” I said, and I held out my hand to him, “Do you trust me, my treasure?”

 

He gulped down hard as if he could swallow down his anxieties. He took my hand and said, “Yes.”

***

I live on the seas. My crew and I get supplies, and then go back on the water. I send my crew out on fool’s errands, on trips with treasure marks that only sometimes lead to gold.

 

I didn’t care.

 

I walked into my quarters, where the only treasure I needed was there.

 

Aranis swam behind glass. He held his hand out, pressing it to the glass, and I pressed my hand against his. He mouthed, “Help me. Free me.”

 

If he weren’t in water, tears would stream down his face. He was full of the deepest sorrows.

 

But he was my greatest treasure, and as Pirate King? I would never let him free.

Featured image source: (The Pirate’s Treasure)

Revenge: Best Served Under The Full Moon

It’s a funny thing. Dying, I mean.

First there’s the shock, the whole: “Oh no! I’m dead”. (Insert explicative after explicative.)

The next part is when you realize that you’re not in Heaven, or Hell. No, you’re just a spirit, looking down at your dead body that’s lying in the middle of the woods.

That’s when you find out how you died.

How did I die? Oh. I was murdered. You know, a big tragedy. My ex-boyfriend, that asshole Trent, his weird brother, and his best friend, stabbed me to death. So many times, in fact, that I looked like Swiss cheese in that ugly white sweater that I wanted to throw away, but mom insisted I kept it.

And then I died in that ugly sweater.

I remember it clearly. My death, I mean.

Trent did the stabbing. His weird brother had smashed my skull in, and Trent’s best friend? He watched the entire thing. Sure he said “stop” a few times–wide-eyed and mouth agape–but he never stopped them. He never called the cops.

What did I do to deserve this death? Not a thing. Nothing.

The only thing I was guilty of was a terrible taste in men, clearly.

But that’s not the end of my story. No, just the beginning for me.

I looked down at my body, and that’s when I saw something glow. I looked up and saw that the Full Moon–big and yellow–was shining down onto my body.

The next part is kind of a blur, but I was back in my body again. My wounds healed, and I was back to life.

But as soon as I started to get up, I doubled over. I felt like I was dying all over again.

Bones cracking and crunching. I wanted to claw my skin away, it felt like it was rippling over thin and moving muscles. That’s when I looked down and saw paws, claws, and white fur.

I had turned into a wolf.

I felt alive in whole new way. I ran through the woods, wild and free. Eventually I tired out, and fell asleep on the forest floor.

When I woke up I was human again.

At first I wanted to tell someone. I wanted to tell the cops, after all, I was murdered. I did die. But by some miracle under that moon, I came back, stronger and more alive.

How do you explain that anyway? Go to the cops and say, “Yeah, so, um, Trent, his weird brother, and his best friend killed me, but I came back, and now I’m a werewolf.”

“Yeah, okay, crazy person!” They would say–and then shove me into a mental ward for life.

So that was out of the question. But then I thought of a deliciously devious idea. But was it really devious to plot to kill your murderers?

I found the clothes I was murdered in, dressed in them and found my way home, and I acted like nothing happened. Not a thing at all.

“Mara, what happened to your sweater?” My mom asked me as I walked through the front door. Not even a, “Mara, where have you been all night?” or “Mara, are you okay?”

She wasn’t worried about me–she was worried about the sweater.

I pulled the sweater up and over my head. I looked her straight in the eyes as I tossed it into the trash.

A side effect of dying and becoming a werewolf? You grow a pair.

***

I went to school, walked by The Murderous Trio, and flashed the biggest grin at them.

Trent screamed various explicative after explicative, his brother probably peed himself, and his best friend? Cried.

“What’s wrong?” I said. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I went home after that. Another side effect of dying and becoming a werewolf? Apathy for school.

I waited until nightfall, waiting to turn into a wolf, but I never did. I guessed that it was true then what they say, that werewolves turn under the Full Moon.

I guess that’s also how I turned into one in the first place. There may not have been a God or a Heaven, but there sure as Hell was that moon shining over me.

I went to school everyday, just to walk by The Murderous Trio, and everyday I scared them. But they only knew half of my plan.

***

Finally after a month, it was the next Full Moon.

“I know what you did to Mara,” I wrote on a note, and left it in each of their lockers. I also said, “Tonight, go to where IT happened, or I’ll tell the Police.”

So, I went to the the woods. The Moon, full and shining, rose up to the sky. My bones cracked, and skin rippled, and I turned into a wolf again.

I howled in the distance and ran to the spot that I had died at. Sure enough Trent, his weird brother, and his best friend stood, shaking in their shoes.

I will spare you the gruesome details, but I chased them, and then I attacked them as brutally as they attacked me, and I didn’t stop until they were dead. I pulled them out of the light of the Full Moon, so that they wouldn’t come back from the dead.

They never woke up.

The next day it was all over the news: “Three teenagers attacked by a wild animal.” Along with their innocent faces from their school pictures, and…cue the crying parents! (Really tugs on your heartstrings doesn’t it?)

I laughed while they cried.

After all, would they have cried over them if they were actually convicted of my murder? If they were sentenced for life? If they were sentenced to death?

No one knew what really happened, and no one would ever know that that they had murdered me. No one even knew that I had died.

But that didn’t matter. I didn’t care.

“Such a tragedy,” they said on the news.

Hah. What a joke. It was my triumph. 

Revenge: Best Served Under The Full Moon

It’s a funny thing. Dying, I mean.

First there’s the shock, the whole: “Oh no! I’m dead”. (Insert explicative after explicative.)

The next part is when you realize that you’re not in Heaven, or Hell. No, you’re just a spirit, looking down at your dead body that’s lying in the middle of the woods.

That’s when you find out how you died.

How did I die? Oh. I was murdered. You know, a big tragedy. My ex-boyfriend, that asshole Trent, his weird brother, and his best friend, stabbed me to death. So many times, in fact, that I looked like Swiss cheese in that ugly white sweater that I wanted to throw away, but mom insisted I kept it.

And then I died in that ugly sweater.

I remember it clearly. My death, I mean.

Trent did the stabbing. His weird brother had smashed my skull in, and Trent’s best friend? He watched the entire thing. Sure he said “stop” a few times–wide-eyed and mouth agape–but he never stopped them. He never called the cops.

What did I do to deserve this death? Not a thing. Nothing.

The only thing I was guilty of was a terrible taste in men, clearly.

But that’s not the end of my story. No, just the beginning for me.

I looked down at my body, and that’s when I saw something glow. I looked up and saw that the Full Moon–big and yellow–was shining down onto my body.

The next part is kind of a blur, but I was back in my body again. My wounds healed, and I was back to life.

But as soon as I started to get up, I doubled over. I felt like I was dying all over again.

Bones cracking and crunching. I wanted to claw my skin away, it felt like it was rippling over thin and moving muscles. That’s when I looked down and saw paws, claws, and white fur.

I had turned into a wolf.

I felt alive in whole new way. I ran through the woods, wild and free. Eventually I tired out, and fell asleep on the forest floor.

When I woke up I was human again.

At first I wanted to tell someone. I wanted to tell the cops, after all, I was murdered. I did die. But by some miracle under that moon, I came back, stronger and more alive.

How do you explain that anyway? Go to the cops and say, “Yeah, so, um, Trent, his weird brother, and his best friend killed me, but I came back, and now I’m a werewolf.”

“Yeah, okay, crazy person!” They would say–and then shove me into a mental ward for life.

So that was out of the question. But then I thought of a deliciously devious idea. But was it really devious to plot to kill your murderers?

I found the clothes I was murdered in, dressed in them and found my way home, and I acted like nothing happened. Not a thing at all.

“Mara, what happened to your sweater?” My mom asked me as I walked through the front door. Not even a, “Mara, where have you been all night?” or “Mara, are you okay?”

She wasn’t worried about me–she was worried about the sweater.

I pulled the sweater up and over my head. I looked her straight in the eyes as I tossed it into the trash.

A side effect of dying and becoming a werewolf? You grow a pair.

***

I went to school, walked by The Murderous Trio, and flashed the biggest grin at them.

Trent screamed various explicative after explicative, his brother probably peed himself, and his best friend? Cried.

“What’s wrong?” I said. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I went home after that. Another side effect of dying and becoming a werewolf? Apathy for school.

I waited until nightfall, waiting to turn into a wolf, but I never did. I guessed that it was true then what they say, that werewolves turn under the Full Moon.

I guess that’s also how I turned into one in the first place. There may not have been a God or a Heaven, but there sure as Hell was that moon shining over me.

I went to school everyday, just to walk by The Murderous Trio, and everyday I scared them. But they only knew half of my plan.

***

Finally after a month, it was the next Full Moon.

“I know what you did to Mara,” I wrote on a note, and left it in each of their lockers. I also said, “Tonight, go to where IT happened, or I’ll tell the Police.”

 

So, I went to the the woods. The Moon, full and shining, rose up to the sky. My bones cracked, and skin rippled, and I turned into a wolf again.

 

I howled in the distance and ran to the spot that I had died at. Sure enough Trent, his weird brother, and his best friend stood, shaking in their shoes.

I will spare you the gruesome details, but I chased them, and then I attacked them as brutally as they attacked me, and I didn’t stop until they were dead. I pulled them out of the light of the Full Moon, so that they wouldn’t come back from the dead.

They never woke up.

The next day it was all over the news: “Three teenagers attacked by a wild animal.” Along with their innocent faces from their school pictures, and…cue the crying parents! (Really tugs on your heartstrings doesn’t it?)

I laughed while they cried.

After all, would they have cried over them if they were actually convicted of my murder? If they were sentenced for life? If they were sentenced to death?

No one knew what really happened, and no one would ever know that that they had murdered me. No one even knew that I had died.

But that didn’t matter. I didn’t care.

“Such a tragedy,” they said on the news.

Hah. What a joke. It was my triumph. 

Rules Made To Be Broken

Rule #1: You are food, nothing more.

Rule #2: Remember: you are the prey, they are the predators.

Rule #3: No fraternizing, friendship, or romance.

Rule #4: You live nocturnally now.

Rule #5: Species may not be changed. You will stay human.

Rule #6: If you break any of these rules, you’re dead.

Rule #7: If your Master breaks any rules, they’re dead.

***

I was born a Blood Slave. My parents were Blood Slaves, and they passed it onto me. When I was twelve I was sent to live with one of Them, who was to be my Master. 

His name was Xavier. He was a vampire, and I was to be his Blood Slave for the rest of my life.

vampire_by_fiizz.jpg

(Xavier)

I didn’t think sticking to the rules would be so difficult.

A year after I was given to Xavier, I started to notice how silky his long black hair was and how soft his lips felt on my neck. I also started to take pleasure in his drinking of my blood. 

But, rules are rules, and besides, I wasn’t into other guys, I couldn’t be.

Blood Slaves were supposed to find another Blood Slave of the opposite sex, so that we could make babies that would become Blood Slaves when they came of age. 

Besides the rules, my love was surely unrequited. I mean, I’d seen him entertain beautiful Noble girls, and even kiss some of them. Afterall, I was just a Blood Slave boy with dull brown hair, brown eyes, and rags for clothes. 

Each day it got harder and harder, and now, at sixteen, it was nearly impossible. I couldn’t take living this painful existence any longer, and so I ended it prematurely. 

I slit my wrists with a knife, and watched the blood drip down my arms and onto the hardwood floor like a splatter of paint on a canvas.  I soon grew too weak to stand, and fell to the ground.

I could hear Xavier’s sweet voice shout, “Lucas!” 

Through blurred vision, I saw him come to my side and embrace me in his arms. If I was going to die, to die in his arms was going to be a heavenly way to die.

The world fell to black, and I fell out of this world, and into the next.

Or so I thought.

I jolted awake, opening my eyes and sitting up. Xavier was still holding me. 

“What happened?” I asked.

“I saved you from certain death,” Xavier said in his velvety soft voice. 

“What do you mean?”

“You were going to die, but I gave you another life,” he said. “An immortal life.”

No, it couldn’t be!  “Are you saying that I’m a…” 

“Vampire.”

“But that means…”

“Does it matter?” He asked. “We were going to break the rules anyway.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said and looked away from him.

“Lucas,” he said softly and cupped my face in his hand, angling my face to look at him. “I know your feelings towards me.”

“I don’t–“

“I feel the same way,” he said. “Maybe it was selfish, but that is why I saved you.”

I didn’t know what to say. I spent four years wanting to hear those words, but now that they came I had a hard time feeling happy. All I could think about is how we broke all the rules.

“I love you, Xavier,” I whispered.

“As do I.”

“But this can’t be, we can’t be…I can’t be…” I muttered, and my vision was blurring from a curtain of tears. “They’ll kill us.”

“Not if we can’t catch us,” he said, and he pulled my face towards his. “Run away with me, and we can live together, forever.”

“Yes,” I said. “I’ll follow you through Hell if I have to in order to get to Heaven with you.”

“Being by your side has been like heaven for me,” he said before pressing his lips to mine.

As I kissed him I was maddened by the thirst of blood. My fangs slid out of my gums, and I bit his lips. His blood filled my mouth, and it tasted like copper pennies and raw honey.

“What’s going on here?” A voice asked from behind us.

I pulled away from Xavier in horror, to see his Mother standing in the doorway.

“Fraternizing with your Slave, an a boy none the less?” Mavis snapped, and approached us. Her eyes were on my fangs.

“You have broken every rule, you fool,” she yelled and struck Xavier across the face. He fell to the ground.

“Rules are made to be broken,” he shouted.

“You are no longer my son. There is only one option,” she said with a blank expression. Her nails elongated into claws and she stepped towards us.

Xavier lunged at her with his own set of claws, but she was faster. Her claws sunk into his chest, surely piercing his heart.

“Lucas, live on without me…” He whispered as his body fell, lifeless, to the floor.

I roared, sounding more animal than human, and my nails turned into claws. I lunged at Mavis with my claws, and I dug them into her chest, pulling out her heart, and tossing it to the ground like a piece of trash.

I kissed Xavier’s cold, dead lips and left the room to raid the mansion for valuables. I came back for Xavier’s body and carried him in my arms.

For Xavier I would live, but I would spend eternity to find a way to bring him back to life.

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(Lucas)  

Author’s Note: This is the first of many stories about Lucas and Xavier.

(Featured image source)

Quoth The Raven, Evermore

I was depressed. It wasn’t like there was any reason. But did I really need to have a reason? I was so sick of people asking me, “What’s wrong?” As if it could be pinpointed to a single thing.

Sometimes you’re just depressed. Life is “what’s wrong” and there’s nothing more to it.

My mom was one of these nameless people asking me “what’s wrong?” So I screamed nothing and I ran away. As if I had the balls to actually run away.

I only made it to a pond across the street. It was more puddle than pond, and the trees were already deadened by winter—these black barren things.  What was wrong was how damned depressing everything was.

I was sitting on a park bench hating the tears that slid down my cheeks, when I heard a deep squawk. A big black raven landed on the barren tree in front of me. The tree branch bowed under the weight of the massive bird.

I loved Edgar Allen Poe’s Poem “The Raven“, but that was all I knew about the bird. I’d never seen one in person, and was surprised by how big it was. It was almost as big as a cat.

It cocked its head at me, tilting to the side, its beautiful blue black feathers catching moonlight and shining like the dark waters of the pond. The raven seemed to look right into my eyes with its black-pearl eyes.

“Nevermore,” I whispered to myself and grinned. I realized the tears on my cheeks were dried.

The raven stayed with me through the night, sitting on the tree branch, watching over me like a gargoyle.

I told the raven about my mom,  and how the boys at school were stupid, and how my best friend was a jerk, and blahblahblah–which I supposed all the raven heard was the blahblahblah.

***

The next night, I ran to the pond, and to my surprise the raven was sitting on the same tree branch.

I lay on the park bench, told the raven about my day, and fell asleep talking to the raven.

“Hey, you okay?” Someone asked, stirring me from my sleep.

I opened by eyes and saw a guy kneeling in front of me, he had blue black hair that hung in front of his black eyes. He had two shiny black lip rings across his thick lips, and another in his septum.

“Yeah,” I whispered and sat up. “I guess I fell asleep.”

He wore a tight black shirt, tight black pants, with black combat boots. He looked like he was probably sixteen, like me.

“A strange place to sleep,” he said.

“I suppose.” I noticed that the raven was gone and grimaced. I didn’t really want to be around anyone, no matter how attractive they might be.

I stood up and started to walk away.

“Going already?” He asked.

I turned to him and snapped, “Yeah, so what?”

“Sorry I—” He scratched the back of his head.

“No, I’m sorry.”

I felt an odd tug, like I didn’t want to leave. I looked at the waters of the pond, and he turned to the pond, watching the moonlight reflect onto it with me.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“Kyra. You?”

“Raven,” he said.

“Cool name,” I said, and when I looked into his eyes, I couldn’t help but see the similarity to the black pearl eyes of the raven. But surely not. I mean, it was impossible for boys to turn into birds, right?

We talked about nothing really, but it was nice. I did like talking to the raven, but having someone respond was nice for a change.

I smiled as I walked back to my house.

***

I walked to the pond, hoping to see the raven and Raven. When I reached the pond, I saw Raven sitting on the park bench. I smiled as I approached him.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” He was twisting a black raven feather in his hand. He held it out to me and said, “Here.”

I took it from him and whispered, “Nevermore.”

“Evermore,” he said.

“It’s ‘nevermore’, you know—Poe’s poem?”

“I know, but why not ‘evermore’ instead?” He cocked his head to the side, and it reminded me of how the raven had looked at me. “Kyra, I’d rather see you evermore.”

I opened my mouth to ask him something, something insane, but I shook my head. I mean was I really going to ask this (very attractive) boy “Hey, can you turn into a bird?” That’s how you get boys to run away from you. Well, or or fly if I was right…

It was clear that Raven wasn’t like the boys at my school.

“Do you think there are things like…shape-shifters?” I asked him. “People that can turn into animals?”

He laughed.

“Don’t laugh! I’m serious.”

His smile fell into a straight line. “Do you think they exist?”

“I don’t know. I mean, kind of.”

“I kind of do too,” he said.

“I’d like to hope magic like that exists.”

“Me too.”

We didn’t say anything after that.

I had placed my hand on my lap, palm facing up, and he held my hand, interlacing his fingers with mine. I fell asleep like that, and when I woke up, Raven was gone, but the raven was sitting on the tree branch.

I smiled and said, “Hello again.”

The raven squawked.

***

Weeks passed by, and I either saw Raven or the raven when I visited the pond. I was no longer running away. After all, there wasn’t anything wrong anymore.

“I want to show you something,” Raven told me. “Do you promise that you won’t run away?”

I laughed. “What are you a serial killer or something?”

“Or something.”

I felt a chill dance across my body. I didn’t really know Raven, and that realization sunk in. I wondered if I had been too trusting. But something, maybe stupidity, made me stay.

Maybe I should have ran, but I said, “Yeah, okay. What is it?”

He flashed a wicked grin and then he titled his head back. I stepped away from him as his body convulsed. His skin rippled over cracking bones. Suddenly it was no longer Raven, but the raven sitting in front of me.

I should have been more shocked, but I wasn’t. I smiled and I bent down to pet his soft feathers. He cocked his head at me, and then as soon as he was a bird, he was back as a boy.

“Wow,” I whispered.

“I understand if you want to run away, forget about me,” he said. “I know I’m a freak.”

“No!” I quickly said. “I…I like you as Raven and the raven.”

“Really?”

“Really,” I told him. “I like you for evermore.”

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(Raven by: Nebraska Oddfish)

Alix In Wonderland

I live in an asscrack of a town, where the most exciting thing was the installment of a traffic light at a four way intersection.

“Alix!” My best friend Robby screamed as he drove the car. His voice was muffled by the sound of the wind whirring by me.

I had crawled out of the passenger side window, and lay on the hood of his hail-dented Honda Civic.

In a town like this, you have to stupid shit to have any fun.

The car went to a halt as we were next to a nature preserve. I hopped off of the hood of the car and stretched out my arms. The wind was chilly despite my light blue hoodie and white beanie. “That was awesome!”

He shook his head. “No, that was horrifying!”

We both held up our cell phones. Our flashlight apps were the only lights in the darkness. The woods seemed neverending as we walked along a dirt path. In some parts the path were too worn down.

“We should go home,” he said. “This place gives me the creeps.”

“Good,” I said and laughed. “Maybe there’s finally something fun to do here.”

He stopped suddenly and checked his phone, ” Oh no! I’m late, I’m late. I got to get home!”

“I don’t want to go home!” I shouted. “C’mon, lets look around some more!

But Robby was already running back through the path shouting, “I can’t be late!”

I followed after him, but at some point I lost track of him and the trail.

Maybe I should have been scared, but I wasn’t. I was excited. I guess I was just so damned bored in this town.

“I wish something interesting would happen,” I whispered.

I doubled back and continued down the path Robby and I had followed. The path was too worn, and I was just following the bends of the trees. Eventually my phone died, and I was stuck with nothing but the moon, half full and the stars twinkling ahead.

That’s when a little panic rose up within me. The trees seemed to move, shadows looked like monsters, and when I looked down I realized I had gotten off of the path. I didn’t know where to go.

I cursed as I turned around, trying to find the way back home.

Suddenly I saw the outline of a wide and wicked grin from the darkness. It had blue lips and sharp white teeth.

I stepped back. “Who’s there?”

“Who indeed,” the mouth said. It had a girl’s voice. “Who are any of us, really?”

The mouth was in front of me and then materialized into a girl.

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(Image by: Ana Gremard)

She had messy, light blue hair and a pair of blue cat ears. Her mouth looked normal, so I guessed I had seen things. She wore a blue and black striped shirt, blue skirt, and knee-high black boots.

“Some call me the Cheshire Cat,” she said. “What do some call you?”

“Alix,” I told her. “So, what are you doing out here?”

“What is anyone doing out here or there or everywhere?” She asked and she disapeared. She appeared again on a tree branch, squating. Hanging down from the tree branch, I could see a fluffy blue tail. “I mean anyone really doing anything, or are we all just doing nonsensical nothingness?”

I shook my head. “You’re giving me a headache.”

I continued on through the forest, walking away from her—but then she suddenly appeared in front of me. This time she was on all fours. Her face looked more cat-like. She had sharp teeth and claws. She looked like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland, except much more dangerous.

I stepped backwards, but tripped on a tree branch. I fell onto my back.

She was nothing but a disembodied grin floating above me. “Do I frighten you?”

“No,” I lied and I sat up. I clenched by fists. I wasn’t even convinced what I was seeing was real. “You don’t scare me.”

“Well, you should be,” the mouth said, following me as I stood up.“I’m not the only thing frightening here.”

When I stood up she was back as a girl with cat ears, standing in front of me. “In fact, I may be the nicest thing in these woods.”

“Whatever,” I said and I walked through the woods.

The further I walked in the woods, I heard something snarling with snapping teeth.

There was a horrible creature in front of me. It looked like a dragon with large wings and a tail, but it had a small round head.

“Are you frightened now?” the Cheshire Cat whispered in my ear. I felt a chill down my spine.

The creature crept closer, snapping it’s jaws at me and growling. My heart beat so hard I thought it would break through my ribs. I wanted something interesting to happen, but this wasn’t what I meant.

“Be careful what you wish for,” the Cat said. “The Jabberwocky is certaintly interesting isn’t it?”

“I did not wish for this!” I shouted as the creature crept closer.

“Do you wish to live?”

“Yes!”

“Then look to the Tumtum tree.”

I looked around, but she had disapeared again. “The what?”

I started to run from the creature, but then I saw the Cheshire Cat grinning from another tree’s branch. Leaning against the tree was a shining metal sword.

I ran to it and grasped it. It felt awkward in my hands. I’d only held a sword in video games, but there was no “A” button in real life.

The creature roared and spread its wings.

“Make the vorpal sword go snicker-snack!” Cheshire Cat shouted.

“Stop…” I swung the blade. “speaking…” I swung it again, and it hit the creature. “in riddles!”

I thrust the sword forward and into the creature’s chest. It was dead.

“You have slain the Jabberwock!” Cheshire Cat shouted, suddenly standing in front of me. “Oh frabjous day! Callooh, callay!”

I felt weak, tired, and my head was spinning. I leaned against a tree and fell asleep.

When I woke up the sword was gone and so was the Cheshire Cat.

I wandered back through the woods.

Dawn came, and I found my way. I didn’t know if I had dreamed it all, but I never did go back to those woods, and I never wished for something interesting to happen ever again.

Featured Image from: Thethreesisters

The Vampire Prince’s Masquerade

When I got the invitation to the Prince of Vampire’s Masquerade Ball, I tossed it in the trash can. I wasn’t much for wearing big frilly dresses or constricting corsets–and don’t get me started on heels.

The invitation had said that it was time for the older of two Prince of Vampires to find his princess, and so the invitation was sent to all eligible women of age. I had the age, and apparently I was eligible, but I had no desire in becoming a princess.

But, my nosy mother spotted the invitation in the trash, and told me if I didn’t go to the ball, I couldn’t go to Night School.

I turned into a vampire when I was 13, like all blood-vampires, but I didn’t let that stop me. Now 16, I still didn’t let my being a vampire stop me from doing things I enjoyed as a human, like school.

So, I found myself at the Royal Vampire’s castle in a big frilly dress, with a constricting corset, and heels that were half a foot tall. My mom had bought all of it just for the occasion.

The ball was at a castle that was beautiful, to say the least. The outside was impressive—walls made of cold black metal, with sharp, pointed turrets. The inside of the castle was equally impressive, black marble flooring and columns, the walls red and black.

The ball was in the massive front hall. There were black candles all along the walls, that dripped red candle wax, and around the room were three fountains that flowed red—after all, blood would be the only thing the attendees of the ball could consume. There were also several black metal tables with two chairs.

It was a beautiful castle, suited for a vampire king or a prince, and that’s exactly who lived there. The Vampire Prince, Alastair, and his brother, Adrian, lived there with his father, the Vampire King.

Everyone who was anyone in vampire society was here, along with every 16 year old vampire in the area.

There was an entire orchestra in one side of room, that played soft classical music. 

I sat at one of the tables that was on the edge of the room. I took my high heels off and threw them under the table–I was sick of feeling like I was walking on stilts.

I dully looked around. Everyone, including myself, was wearing a masquerade mask. Mine was made of cold, black metal.

No one had ever seen Prince Alastair. 

It was a big ordeal when vampire’s turned 16 that they find their mate—its the only way to keep the bloodline going. So, we marry at 16, and have kids, and then life is all domestic and homey, and I didn’t want any of that. I won’t mind being considered a spinster if it means I can stay independent.

They kept Prince Alastair’s image secret in order to avoid any prejudices when he was to find a mate. It was their way of avoiding girl’s just after his money. That was the same reason why Prince Adrian would not be shown until he was sixteen.

I idly wondered if the prince was here, among the crowd. Not that I cared too much, I had no intention of being too eligible for the prince. As much as my mom wanted, I did not want to be a princess. One night of dresses and corsets was enough for a lifetime.

I shifted uncomfortably in my dress. I wanted to take the thing off and change into some leggings and a loose t-shirt.

I don’t know how long I sat, bored, staring at the dancing people until I watched as a boy, that was my age, appeared in front of me.

He had tight black formal pants, a velvet waistcoat, and a shirt underneath made of black silk. He wore a black, metal masquerade mask that looked identical to mine. Except whereas mine covered my eyes and the bridge of my nose, his covered his entire face. There were holes that showed his eyes and lips.

He had blue-black hair that fell in front of his face, and framed the sides of his face.

He extended a leather-gloved hand. “May I have this dance?”

“I don’t dance,” I told him.

He dropped his hand, and his lips spread into a soft grin. “I don’t either, but it is a ball, after all.”

I groaned. “I don’t even want to be here.”

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“Me neither,” he admitted. “My father forced me to attend.”

“Same, except—well, my mom forced me,” I said. “She keeps bothering me, telling me to find the prince—but I don’t care. I don’t want to be a princess.”

“Why’s that?” He smiled again, and sat at the table with me. “I mean, all the other girls won’t shut up about it.”

“Because, I like going to Night School, and want to go to college when I graduate,” I explained. “And, well, being a princess doesn’t exactly fit into the equation.”

He nodded knowingly. “I’d like to go to Night School, but I’m home schooled, overly protective parents, ya know?”

“Right? It took me so long to convince my mom to let me go!” I said, and I smiled for the first time that night. “Sometimes I wonder if life would be easier if I was human.

“As do I,” he said and looked at me with a morose expression. “So, what do you want to major in at college?”

“Writing! I want to be an author,” I told him. 

We talked for a while about school, and writing, apparently he enjoyed writing poetry and song lyrics—but he wouldn’t sing any of them.

“C’mon, I want to hear!”

“Oh no, I don’t sing.”

“And I don’t dance…” I grinned a wicked little grin and I held my hand out to him. “How about if I dance with you, will you sing for me?”

He considered it for a moment before he said, “You have a deal.”

We stood up, and he didn’t let go of my hand, he held it as we walked into the crowd of dancing people.

He really was handsome, and I wondered if he was just has handsome under his mask.

We waltzed through the crowd. He knew how to dance quite well, and I kept stepping on his toes. I apologized each time, but each time the told me not to apologize.

As soon as the song ended, we stood, standing a little too close together. My hand was in his, and his arm was wrapped around me. I felt warm and like my heart might break free from my ribcage.

“So the song?” I asked,

“I just came up with one,” he told me. His eyes flickered across my face. He sang softly, in a silky voice:

“Just met  this girl,

Not like any other.

She’s here,

Just ‘cause of her mother.

But, I, wouldn’t have,

I wouldn’t have, any other…”

I realized what silly, stupid grin I had on my face, so I covered my face with my hand.

“No,” he said softly, and he put his hand other mine. “Don’t cover your face. You are beautiful…um..? I never asked for your name?”

“Celia,” I told him. My hand felt electric under his.

He took my hand in his and moved our hands, so my face showed.

“And you?” I asked, my voice just a breath louder than a whisper.

His lips spread into a smirk. “Alastair.”

“Like…”

“Prince Alastair.”

My mouth was gaped open in surprise.

He let go of my hand, and placed it on the side of my face. He slipped my mask off, and I reached up, and removed his. He was even more handsome than I thought, smooth creamy skin, dramatic cheek bones, and a strong jawline.

“Will you be my Princess, Celia?” He asked. But, before I could respond, he bent down and pressed his lips to mine in a soft kiss.

Against his lips, I whispered, “Yes.”

Note: This was originally posted on a blog that I had for school. You can find that here. It has many more stories on it under the storytelling tag!

Images by: Celia Chamizo

The Stolen Girl

 

The Stolen Girl: A Short Story by Lore Scarlet

There’s only one way to kill a vampire: stake them through the heart.

 

I picked at the floorboard and tried to pry the wood off. My fingers were bleeding, and my nails were broken off. I’d been picking at it for days, but I finally managed to pull a nail out.

 

I breathed a sigh of relief that was inaudible through the sounds of screaming and crying all around me. I was crammed in a cage with several of the other stolen girls. Across the room was a cage filled with stolen boys.

 

We were all stolen from our packs or homes, and taken here to be chosen by the princes or the King. The chosen ones get to live in a nice room, and are drunk from each day by the royal vampires. They are never drunk from until their veins are dry.

 

That’s what we are for. The stolen ones that are unchosen. We were disposable.

 

Each day Miss Death, one of the vampire servants of the castle, randomly choses one of us. I stopped counting days by measures of time, and by girls taken from the cage. We were at eight girls by today.

 

“It’s hopeless,” a girl next to me said in between sniffles.

 

“Then you will surely be chosen soon,” I said it like it was a curse.

 

I managed to break the floorboard off, and it made for  a decent sized stake. I wore a loose white cotton dress, so I tucked it into the band of my underwear.

 

Dread filled me as Miss Death approached us. She had a face like a skull surrounded by wiry brown hair.

 

Don’t pick me, I thought over and over again like a mantra.

 

She opened the cage and blindly grabbed onto one of us. I felt her cold hands on my shoulder and I felt like the world was crumbling down on me. She tied a rope around my hands and pulled me out of the cage.

 

“You’ll do, human,” she said.

 

“I have a name, vampire. It’s Dia.”

 

“Well, Dia, you’re lucky,” she told me. “You’ll become the life blood of the King.”

 

She said it like I won the grand prize.

 

When she turned back around and walked up the stairs, I tried to get out of the ropes.

 

We went up a winding staircase and I knew I would be alive until we reached the top. I had to get out of these ropes, stake her in the heart, and run free. That was the only way.

 

But my fingers hurt so badly from pulling out the floorboard. I wanted to cry out in pain, but I tried to swallow it down. I could do this. I made it this far.

 

I let my legs give out under me, and I collapsed against the staircase. I fell a few steps.

 

As the servant scrambled to get me, I grabbed my stake from under my dress.

 

“Come on,” the servant said. “We need to get up to the King.”

 

“Neither of us are going up to the King,” I told her and I shoved the stake up, into her ribs, and right into her heart.

 

She fell lifeless onto the staircase before me.

 

“That’s for every girl you pulled from the cage,” I said and pulled my stake from her.

 

I kept my stake in front of me as I stepped off of the staircase, and into a hallway. I didn’t know where anything was in the castle, and I had no idea how to get out. I was blind.

 

There was a guard at the end of the hall. I quickly opened the first door that I could find and closed it behind me.

 

I found myself in an incredible room. It had walls that dripped water like from waterfalls, and scattered around the floor and on easels were beautiful paintings of a girl who I recognized. She was the stolen girl chosen by Prince Adrian.

 

I turned and found her on the bed, her eyes closed and she was covered in blood. She was dead.

 

In a flash the door was open and the guard was inside. I held the stake in my hand. He was suddenly at my throat, fangs bared and piercing into my throat. But as I felt the fangs hit my flesh, I quickly shoved my stake up. He cried out, but it didn’t kill him. I had missed his heart.

 

He wrapped one of his hands around my throat. I could feel his nails elongate into claws, scratching my neck. I cried out in pain. His other hand was at my stomach and he stabbed me. It felt like a knife was in my stomach. I gasped and felt blood dripping from the wound.

 

I used what little energy I had left to push him, and he fell onto an art easel. It broke into several pieces of wood. I quickly grabbed one of the pieces, and I shoved it into his chest. This time it hit his heart.

 

I was exhausted and filled with pain, but I ran to the window along the wall. My fingers still seared with pain as I tried to raise the window, but I was losing more and more blood.

 

I tried to keep conscious, but I fell down to the ground, onto all the paintings, now stained with my blood.

 

***

 

I woke up in the woods, under a full moon.

 

I screamed as I saw Prince Adrian and the girl he had chosen staring down at me.

 

I scrambled back, and it then occurred to me that my wounds were gone and I felt no pain.

 

“What’s going on?” I asked.

 

“You were near death,” Prince Adrian said. “I found you as I got my Princess from her room.”

 

“But she was dead!”

 

Undead,” she corrected. “As are you. We are vampires now.”

 

(Image by: Kristaps)