Moonlight (1/1)
Title: Moonlight
Author: deamsgirl
Rating: PG
Summary: A very short original story about vampires... wrote this ages ago and just found it among my files.
The full moon is shining overhead.
I feel its pull as I slip out my window. I don't know where I'm going or why, but I feel claustrophobic and nauseated in my small room and I just need to get out.
The wind is whipping through the trees, autumn leaves dry and browning are making a rustle with every breeze. It sounds like a melody. A chorus of voices, all of them crying, "Isabella." The night is calling to me, beckoning me to the darkest corners of it.
I slip gracefully to the ground, my curtains dancing out the open window overhead. I head across the yard, into the street, unsure of my destination but following the wind's guiding voice.
There is an alley up ahead. It's dark, secluded, and the night in its purest form. "Isabella," the breeze calls to me. My legs move toward the alley, even as a voice in the recesses of my mind screams at me, "No!"
There is a man waiting at the end of narrow alley. His features are bathed in both darkness and moonlight. His dark hair and eyes are aglow and I can't help but think he looks like a dark angel, come to end the world.
"Isabella," the wind and the man say at once. I move forward, without a thought, even the voice in the back of my head has quieted at the sight of this man. His arms wrap around me, strong and cool to the touch. His lips meet my neck and teeth scrape against the sensitive flesh.
Fangs bite into skin, and my blood feeds the hunger of a monster.
I close my eyes, tip my head back slightly. Death felt welcome in his arms. For this angel, I'd gladly let the world end.
Author: deamsgirl
Rating: PG
Summary: A very short original story about vampires... wrote this ages ago and just found it among my files.
The full moon is shining overhead.
I feel its pull as I slip out my window. I don't know where I'm going or why, but I feel claustrophobic and nauseated in my small room and I just need to get out.
The wind is whipping through the trees, autumn leaves dry and browning are making a rustle with every breeze. It sounds like a melody. A chorus of voices, all of them crying, "Isabella." The night is calling to me, beckoning me to the darkest corners of it.
I slip gracefully to the ground, my curtains dancing out the open window overhead. I head across the yard, into the street, unsure of my destination but following the wind's guiding voice.
There is an alley up ahead. It's dark, secluded, and the night in its purest form. "Isabella," the breeze calls to me. My legs move toward the alley, even as a voice in the recesses of my mind screams at me, "No!"
There is a man waiting at the end of narrow alley. His features are bathed in both darkness and moonlight. His dark hair and eyes are aglow and I can't help but think he looks like a dark angel, come to end the world.
"Isabella," the wind and the man say at once. I move forward, without a thought, even the voice in the back of my head has quieted at the sight of this man. His arms wrap around me, strong and cool to the touch. His lips meet my neck and teeth scrape against the sensitive flesh.
Fangs bite into skin, and my blood feeds the hunger of a monster.
I close my eyes, tip my head back slightly. Death felt welcome in his arms. For this angel, I'd gladly let the world end.