Great, now I have a headache!
*grumbles* Because I hate being called a liar, and I was called on by a friend who is about to lose that privilage unless she stops being a cow to 'prove it'! What is this about? Writing, of course.
I have to admit that my creative drive has been focusing more on my original novel, still in the works, for the last couple of months, and I've barely managed more than a few sentences in that time on my fanfiction. But I do have moments of... genius? Insanity? Let's just say it's inspiration and leave the judgement to the readers, then.
This is a snippet of an idea that ran around my head for a while, and I only wrote to really get off the topic of it. I still enjoy Harry Potter fiction, when I can find the good ones, and I still enjoy writing for the series, despite the lack of progress lately. What really made me drop this idea like a bag of garbage was the vampire aspect it has.
Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy a good vampire novel, but lately it's been run into the ground and I really don't feel like putting the effort into a story just to have it lost in the mass of vampire-centered fics out there. I haven't abandoned this idea, per se, it's more sitting on the shelf with my folder of jolted down notes about directions the story could end up taking.
BUT, to prove that I have been writing, I shall post the segment I have on the computer and see how it fares.
Title: In Shadows Bound
Author: DC James
Fandom: Harry Potter
Warning: horror, supernatural, vampires, alternate universe... that's all that's definite for now.
Summary: The Dursleys receive an unexpected visitor one evening, who leaves with an unexpected surprise.
Spoilers: Probably basic knowledge of the Harry Potter books would be nice, but this won't follow so closely to the canon like Candidus has. This is set about two years pre-series.
oOo
All rights and privileges to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Bros, and associated parties. The characters of this series are used without permission for the purpose of entertainment only. This work of fiction is not meant for sale or profit.
Any/all original characters are the creation of the author. All copyrighted privileges to these characters are reserved for the author and may not be used without permission.
oOo
This had never happened before...
In all his millenium of life, Turris had never come across a victim like this. Oh, yes, he had many who would be frozen in fear or befundlement, a few who would immediately try to escape and in doing so show a deep attunement to their basest instincts. There have even been those few who came quite willingly, until they realized they would not be turned, writhing and screeching a sharp, dying howl in his grasp.
But this...?
What a sight they must pose, he thought in a moment of rare indulgence. He had come to this ordinary house in this ordinary ordinance of Surrey, to feast on the gluttenous beast he had watched drain from society. He would not be missed, and after viewing his family, he knew that they wouldn't either. The woman was a shrew, who chattered gossip and lies, and their spawn was beyond rehabilitation and far too much like his father.
A twitch of vampiric magic was all that was needed to have outsiders ignore the screams and crashes as he attacked the family. He did not want to make this gentle for the swines, and he was far too hungry to take his time. By the time it rang two in the morning, he dropped the last drained husk that made the stick of a woman and took a moment to look around the now blood painted living room, letting a surge of victory and satisfaction rush through his full body.
And that was when he saw the boy.
Staring up at his gore-covered form, the waif with doe-like green eyes held no signs of fear or malice, nor any sign of similar mourning or glee for the corpses that littered the room. He just watched Turris, waiting.
It wouldn't do to let one survive and leave; that was the sloppy work of rogues and not something his clansmen would appreciate. Yet he felt so full already, any more would likely put him into an overdose state for days. Turris gave a sigh of burden. It couldn't be helped.
He syphoned the space between himself and the child, and knelt down to come face to face with the witness. Still no fear, and only a hint of curiosity. Tugging the collar of the oversized, worn shirt, Turris lowered his mouth and carefully bit into the young neck of his victim. There was no need to make it painful for this unknown child.
The child gave a slight flinch, the same as one might give to a sudden itch, before going still again. The spicy tang of magic hit his tongue before the warm blood did, and Turris couldn't stop the delighted moan from escaping his chest. A wizard, now that was a rare delicacy. A muggleborn, to his assumption, until the aftertaste of decay clung to the back of his throat, forcing him to wretch his mouth away and gag.
Dark magic on a muggleborn? Curious, but not too unusual for the prejudicial bigots of England.
Turris rubbed his tongue against the roof of his mouth in an attempt to wipe clean the horrible taste, mournful over the loss of a magical treat. There was no way he could enjoy a wizard's blood when it's been saturated by dark magic. The only solution now was to just kill the boy and get out of the house.
And speaking of the boy, he stayed where he crumpled on the floor, breathing a little heavier with his neck still oozing blood, staining the once grey shirt into a dark red. Turris almost thought he was unconscious if it were not for the aware gaze still meeting his own.
"Why didn't you run?" His deep voice rumbled into the stillness.
Emerald orbs blinked in slight surprise. "Do you want me to?" the child replied, voice soft despite its high pitch.
Turris narrowed his eyes. "This is not a dream."
"I know." came the boy's answer. "My dreams aren't this nice."
Turris didn't fight the smirk that crossed his bloodstained lips. He liked a little cheek. A defiance like that created nations and the ideas they brought forth changed the future. It was only when it was forgotten did those same empires and beliefs crumble. "Then, knowing what I am about to do, why didn't you run?"
The child laid his head down on his hands, eyes half-lidding. "There's nowhere for me to run."
For having some cheek, there was a definite lack of fight in this child-wizard. "There's a whole world you could run to." And as the words left his lips, Turris wondered why he was even having this discussion. By now he should be walking out that blasted door leaving behind a miscalculated child and a mutilated family of three.
"If that whole world cared, why am I here disturbing your dinner? They would'uv come long ago..." The voice was slurring and the boy's eyes were unfocusing, showing that he was loosing too much blood and that maybe Turris wouldn't have to dirty his own blade after all.
"Perhaps..." Turris looked the child over, still tasting the lingering dryness of the dark magic touching his senses. There was potential, oh, yes, a great well of potential, and no matter what, tonight the wizards would loose a powerful member. The vampire only wondered if the obvious neglect and questionable abuse inflicted on the boy made that potential untouchable.
As the child started to doze, Turris felt himself come to a decision. If the child was useless, then he would simply rid their clan of him. It had been a while since he made a Childe, and Vires was getting on his nerves with his incessant chatter about that Currus spawn he changed a few decades past.
"Ah, what the hell." Turris stood and paused long enough to pick up his soon-to-be Childe, and began to carry him out of the treshhold of No. 4, absently licking close the wounds on the boy's neck. The fluorescent lights of the street faded them out of view and back into it like a shadow darting around the sun. He spoke again as he felt the limpness in the boy begin to fade. "I don't appreciate asinine questions and simpering children, and you will call me Master Turris."
The child lazily lifted his head, giving a half-hearted glare at the vampire. "I don't appreciate being talked down to or contumacious adults, and you will call me Harry."
Turris felt another grin spread. Smart, too. Cheek had to come from some spirit, and spirit meant a chance. Perhaps this wasn't a total disaster after all.
See? Written. Not much, probably will be a long time before it's continued on, but it's something. So there, Lee, get offa my back and you can explain why I'm avoiding my IMs! Nag!
I have to admit that my creative drive has been focusing more on my original novel, still in the works, for the last couple of months, and I've barely managed more than a few sentences in that time on my fanfiction. But I do have moments of... genius? Insanity? Let's just say it's inspiration and leave the judgement to the readers, then.
This is a snippet of an idea that ran around my head for a while, and I only wrote to really get off the topic of it. I still enjoy Harry Potter fiction, when I can find the good ones, and I still enjoy writing for the series, despite the lack of progress lately. What really made me drop this idea like a bag of garbage was the vampire aspect it has.
Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy a good vampire novel, but lately it's been run into the ground and I really don't feel like putting the effort into a story just to have it lost in the mass of vampire-centered fics out there. I haven't abandoned this idea, per se, it's more sitting on the shelf with my folder of jolted down notes about directions the story could end up taking.
BUT, to prove that I have been writing, I shall post the segment I have on the computer and see how it fares.
Title: In Shadows Bound
Author: DC James
Fandom: Harry Potter
Warning: horror, supernatural, vampires, alternate universe... that's all that's definite for now.
Summary: The Dursleys receive an unexpected visitor one evening, who leaves with an unexpected surprise.
Spoilers: Probably basic knowledge of the Harry Potter books would be nice, but this won't follow so closely to the canon like Candidus has. This is set about two years pre-series.
oOo
All rights and privileges to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Bros, and associated parties. The characters of this series are used without permission for the purpose of entertainment only. This work of fiction is not meant for sale or profit.
Any/all original characters are the creation of the author. All copyrighted privileges to these characters are reserved for the author and may not be used without permission.
oOo
This had never happened before...
In all his millenium of life, Turris had never come across a victim like this. Oh, yes, he had many who would be frozen in fear or befundlement, a few who would immediately try to escape and in doing so show a deep attunement to their basest instincts. There have even been those few who came quite willingly, until they realized they would not be turned, writhing and screeching a sharp, dying howl in his grasp.
But this...?
What a sight they must pose, he thought in a moment of rare indulgence. He had come to this ordinary house in this ordinary ordinance of Surrey, to feast on the gluttenous beast he had watched drain from society. He would not be missed, and after viewing his family, he knew that they wouldn't either. The woman was a shrew, who chattered gossip and lies, and their spawn was beyond rehabilitation and far too much like his father.
A twitch of vampiric magic was all that was needed to have outsiders ignore the screams and crashes as he attacked the family. He did not want to make this gentle for the swines, and he was far too hungry to take his time. By the time it rang two in the morning, he dropped the last drained husk that made the stick of a woman and took a moment to look around the now blood painted living room, letting a surge of victory and satisfaction rush through his full body.
And that was when he saw the boy.
Staring up at his gore-covered form, the waif with doe-like green eyes held no signs of fear or malice, nor any sign of similar mourning or glee for the corpses that littered the room. He just watched Turris, waiting.
It wouldn't do to let one survive and leave; that was the sloppy work of rogues and not something his clansmen would appreciate. Yet he felt so full already, any more would likely put him into an overdose state for days. Turris gave a sigh of burden. It couldn't be helped.
He syphoned the space between himself and the child, and knelt down to come face to face with the witness. Still no fear, and only a hint of curiosity. Tugging the collar of the oversized, worn shirt, Turris lowered his mouth and carefully bit into the young neck of his victim. There was no need to make it painful for this unknown child.
The child gave a slight flinch, the same as one might give to a sudden itch, before going still again. The spicy tang of magic hit his tongue before the warm blood did, and Turris couldn't stop the delighted moan from escaping his chest. A wizard, now that was a rare delicacy. A muggleborn, to his assumption, until the aftertaste of decay clung to the back of his throat, forcing him to wretch his mouth away and gag.
Dark magic on a muggleborn? Curious, but not too unusual for the prejudicial bigots of England.
Turris rubbed his tongue against the roof of his mouth in an attempt to wipe clean the horrible taste, mournful over the loss of a magical treat. There was no way he could enjoy a wizard's blood when it's been saturated by dark magic. The only solution now was to just kill the boy and get out of the house.
And speaking of the boy, he stayed where he crumpled on the floor, breathing a little heavier with his neck still oozing blood, staining the once grey shirt into a dark red. Turris almost thought he was unconscious if it were not for the aware gaze still meeting his own.
"Why didn't you run?" His deep voice rumbled into the stillness.
Emerald orbs blinked in slight surprise. "Do you want me to?" the child replied, voice soft despite its high pitch.
Turris narrowed his eyes. "This is not a dream."
"I know." came the boy's answer. "My dreams aren't this nice."
Turris didn't fight the smirk that crossed his bloodstained lips. He liked a little cheek. A defiance like that created nations and the ideas they brought forth changed the future. It was only when it was forgotten did those same empires and beliefs crumble. "Then, knowing what I am about to do, why didn't you run?"
The child laid his head down on his hands, eyes half-lidding. "There's nowhere for me to run."
For having some cheek, there was a definite lack of fight in this child-wizard. "There's a whole world you could run to." And as the words left his lips, Turris wondered why he was even having this discussion. By now he should be walking out that blasted door leaving behind a miscalculated child and a mutilated family of three.
"If that whole world cared, why am I here disturbing your dinner? They would'uv come long ago..." The voice was slurring and the boy's eyes were unfocusing, showing that he was loosing too much blood and that maybe Turris wouldn't have to dirty his own blade after all.
"Perhaps..." Turris looked the child over, still tasting the lingering dryness of the dark magic touching his senses. There was potential, oh, yes, a great well of potential, and no matter what, tonight the wizards would loose a powerful member. The vampire only wondered if the obvious neglect and questionable abuse inflicted on the boy made that potential untouchable.
As the child started to doze, Turris felt himself come to a decision. If the child was useless, then he would simply rid their clan of him. It had been a while since he made a Childe, and Vires was getting on his nerves with his incessant chatter about that Currus spawn he changed a few decades past.
"Ah, what the hell." Turris stood and paused long enough to pick up his soon-to-be Childe, and began to carry him out of the treshhold of No. 4, absently licking close the wounds on the boy's neck. The fluorescent lights of the street faded them out of view and back into it like a shadow darting around the sun. He spoke again as he felt the limpness in the boy begin to fade. "I don't appreciate asinine questions and simpering children, and you will call me Master Turris."
The child lazily lifted his head, giving a half-hearted glare at the vampire. "I don't appreciate being talked down to or contumacious adults, and you will call me Harry."
Turris felt another grin spread. Smart, too. Cheek had to come from some spirit, and spirit meant a chance. Perhaps this wasn't a total disaster after all.
See? Written. Not much, probably will be a long time before it's continued on, but it's something. So there, Lee, get offa my back and you can explain why I'm avoiding my IMs! Nag!