Writing Tips Wednesday: Always Write

If I’ve learned anything as a writer it is that you can read a million “How To Write” books and take college creative writing classes, but you will teach yourself the most valuable writing tips.

My writing tip today that I learned from myself is ALWAYS WRITE!

The most helpful thing to me has been getting this blog. I’m forced to write a couple times a day, or more if I want to work ahead. It’s also nice because I can write posts like this one.

It doesn’t matter what you write, so long as you WRITE!

Recently I found that I really like to write fanfiction! It’s fun because it already has it’s own characters and background information, you just plug those characters into your own story.

So, if you haven’t tried fanfiction I HIGHLY recommend it. Try it with your favorite movie or TV show!

Now, there is just one problem with blogging and fanfiction. Wait I just said write no matter what? What am I talking about? Well, although it’s important to write everyday no matter what you are writing, you MUST also make time to write your novel or whatever creative work you are meant to be writing.

So, WRITE WRITE WRITE and MAKE TIME to write your novel.

I have gotten myself in a bit of a hole in which I write a little too much fanfiction and am not working on my novel enough.

But you know what, at least I’m writing and not playing video games or watching TV. (Although that in itself it beneficial to writing, but that is a post for another day.)


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.



(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.



(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. 

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.



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…” 


“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.

image (5).jpeg


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

image (4)

(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.

image (1)

(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?”


“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.”


“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.”


“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

She Slept in Fire: A Dagger Story

Here’s a short story based off of my novel, Dagger.

She Slept in Fire

She looked like she was sleeping. In fact I thought that was the case, until after several times she never woke up. That and she didn’t have a pulse.

I’d never seen a dead body. It was surreal. But as much as it made me uncomfortable, I couldn’t move.

The syringe stuck out of her arm like an unwelcome reminder of what happened. I just stared at the syringe until my brother yelled my name, “Dagger!”

I didn’t even register he was yelling my name until he walked over to me and started to shake me.

It was then that I realized I had been standing there for an hour.

“Dag, she overdosed,” Coal said, as if I didn’t know. But part of me didn’t want to know. Part of me wanted to think she was asleep.

Coal, always trying to keep it together, hugged me against him. Ever the protective brother.

“We gotta get out of here,” he said. “If they find us, alone like this, they’ll send us to foster care. I’m not doing it.”

He gathered up mom’s jewelry and a big fat stack of cash that was in her purse and put it in a walmart bag.

“Grab anything from your room that you want,” he said.

I grabbed my backpack and a few things and put the backpack on.

When I went into the room he had picked up a lighter from the nightstand, that was cozy next to an ash tray, and had it held it above mom.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my heart racing.

“Get out,” he said, his brows furrowed and I felt determination emanating from him.

“No,” I said and tried to get the lighter from his grasp.

“Get. Out.”

“You’re scaring me.”

“You should be,” he said. “Leave. I don’t want you to see this.”

But I wouldn’t move.

Everything after that was a blur. I don’t even remember him flicking the lighter, I just remember fire. First a small fire on the sheets, and then it spread like blood splattering.

And then my hand was in Coal’s and he pulled me out of the room and we ran down the stairs. The apartment was quiet, no one knew what was happening in our apartment right now.

Mom was sleeping in the fire.

Author’s Notes: So this is the messed up backstory behind my characters Dagger and Coal. In this story Dagger is 14 and Coal is 16. Why Coal did this will be explored in another short story. For now I will leave that as a mystery.

For the record NO Coal did not kill his mom, even though it might look that way? I guess we’ll see what people think!

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it!

Image by: SimpleInsomnia



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)

The Wolf Girl


The Wolf Girl: A Short Story by Lore Scarlet

I knew I could die at any moment, but that was okay.


It was just that morning that my pack–my family–was killed by vampires. I was the only survivor.


In this world filled with blood-sucking Monsters, we called ourselves Wolves, but we were merely human.


We traveled during the day, when the monsters were asleep. And at night, we slept while someone kept watch.


I thought we were careful, but apparently not careful enough. We all heard the watcher’s screams of “Vampires!” It was too late. His screams were silenced as his throat was torn apart.


I ran, but they were faster—they moved inhumanly fast. They caught me, and I was face to face with them. I had expected them to be hideous, misshapen monstrous things.


They were monsters, but they didn’t look any different from us, except for the fangs in their mouths, and the blood smeared on their faces.


Now I was bound by chains to several girls around my age, sixteen. We were all washed and given formal gowns to dress in. Mine was a tight white satin dress. Great, I was going to die in a dress.



We were in front of the Vampire King, his queen, the two Vampire Princes, and one of the Vampire Princes Princess.


“Alastair,” the Vampire King said and the Prince with the shorter black hair stood up. “Adrian,” and the other Prince with the longer hair stood up.


They all walked towards us.


Adrian sighed and he looked at each of us with a bored expression, but when he looked at me his eyes opened wide.


“Lissa?” he asked and he stepped towards me.




“What’s your name?”




 In a flash he was suddenly standing inches from me. “I want her. The rest can go.”


“Are you sure?” the Vampire King asked.


“I want her,” he repeated.


A servant undid my chains, but Adrian held my wrist, tight like the chains were.




I had seen beauty in sunrises and sunsets, in the moon, or in the changing colors of leaves. But the room Adrian took me to was exquisite.


The floors and walls were black, and water cascaded down the walls like waterfalls.


He let go of my wrist and I stepped into the middle of the room, in awe. There was a massive bed with four posters and a red satin curtain hanging above it.


I’d never seen a real bed before. I slept on the dirt like an animal all of my life.


But the real beauty was beyond the furnishings–it was on canvases that littered the ground as it they were trash. More canvases were on stands.


There were images painted on them of nature: rivers, the moon, the stars, all of the night sky. But when I saw the other canvases I shuddered and stepped back. They were of me…?


“How?” I asked, my voice cracking.


“Don’t be frightened,” Adrian said. “I was in love. Just a year ago. With a human girl, who looked strikingly similar to you.”


“What happened to her?”


“She died.” He touched his masquerade mask. “I barely escaped death.”


I wasn’t sure I had escaped death. “What are you going to do to me?”


“Nothing. I only want your company, if you’ll take it.”


“I hate vampires. That’s not going to change.”


Before he left he said, “I’d like to change your mind.”



Each day I tried to escape, to no avail.


Every night, Adrian came and gave me paintings of the moon and some of me, “not Lissa,” according to him.


He never hurt me.


“I like the paintings with the moon,” I told him one night. After that all he gave me were beautiful paintings of the moon.


Another night he turned to leave, but I walked over to him. I stroked the metal of his mask. He brought his hand up to the back of his head, and the mask fall down.


Half of his face was scarred. The right side of his lip curved down awkwardly, and his eye was misshapen. But somehow the scars made up something beautiful in him.


I stepped backwards. No. There was nothing beautiful in them. They were monsters. My mind flashed back to them decimating my pack.


“Do I frighten you?” He frowned, and his eyes glittered like the water that dripped along the walls.


“No, that’s not it,” I said. I couldn’t believe that I was comforting a monster.


He left, looking as unsure as I was.


The next night, I touched his mask again. “You don’t have to wear this around me.”


His eyes were bright and he smiled before he left.


One night I asked him to stay with me.


He sat next to me, but not too closely—like a perfect gentlemen.


“Do you know how I got here?” I asked.


“I do not,” he said. “They bring us humans to drink from. That’s all I know.”


“You haven’t drunk from me.”


“Because you’re more special than that,” he said.


“Vampires came and they killed my pack,” I whispered. “It was a massacre.”


“No!” He grabbed my hand, and I let him. His skin was cold as ice. “That can’t be true.”


“It is.”


“I am nothing like the others, Lupita,” he said. “We don’t have to live like this, you know.”


“What do you mean?”


“Do you miss being outside of this castle?”


I nodded and I looked him right in his bright red eyes. “I’d rather be free in the woods than be stuck here.”


“Run away with me,” he said. “We can be together, forever.”


“You mean…?”


“Only if you want. But you will be stronger, faster. We can live by the moonlight in the woods.”


“Like wolves,” I added. I always thought my pack and I were the wolves, but we were sheep. If I was going to survive in this world, I had to become the wolf.


“Okay,” I told him.


His nails extended into sharp claws and he slit his claw against my wrist. He drank the life from me until everything went black.


When I woke up, I was in his arms, as he ran through the woods, under the Full Moon.

(Image by Jez Kabanov)