[Drabble] Blood Elite - Part One
He was being hunted, he knew.
Casting a glance around, he sat with his back to the corner, to make sure no one sneaks up on him. Nowhere is safe, he wrote in his worn leather-bound notebook with shaky fingers. I hear them; plotting, whispering, arguing. They won't stop.
A soft scuffle made him swiftly look up from the page, his eyes darting about as he held out his revolver. But there was only silence in the darkness beyond the edge of the sun's beam he was seated in. He knew they wouldn't cross into the golden light, but days end too quickly now.
Soon, his sanctuary will succumb to the night and the shadows.
It was those shadows he feared. When twilight rears its head, so will the voices.
Suddenly, the golden warmth above his head dimmed, sending his heart plummeting. A mass of grey clouds had gathered above, blotting out the sun like murky mud clouding clear waters. He had to move, now, before there was no room to run.
"There you are, Professor..." came a taunting drawl from the shadowy depths stopping him in his tracks, "Still scribbling in that pathetic little notebook of yours, I see."
Instinct had made him point out his gun even before she had spoken. "What's it to you, obyri?"
She sauntered closer to the light but never actually crossing into it, a catlike smile on her face. "There's a name I haven't heard in centuries. As charming as ever, aren't you?" she sighed and switched a stray lock of jet black hair over her shoulder, "I'm out in daylight because of you, you know. If it wasn't for me, they'd have taken that delicious neck of yours before you could even blink," her voice, despite its current lazy drawl, held a melodious tone. He knew exactly what that voice alone was capable of.
To a human, everything about them was mesmerizing, alluring, perfect. They are like roses; beautiful flowers with thorns that draw you in and take your blood. He refused to call them by their modern name "vampire" since they revel in how humans either cower or become enthralled at the sound of it. Some even find the notion of these creatures "romantic", the fools.
No, the word he uses for them was older, in the Slavic tongue before the Bulgarians adapted and changed it to the common name it is today. He found it more fitting.
This particular creature calls herself Airlia. He had to give her credit: she chose a good name, Greek, meaning Ethereal. And damn it all, she is as ethereal as their kind gets: obsidian hair, lilac-blue eyes with a rosebud mouth and skin that would make even porcelain crumble in envy.
He never liked her.
"Are you trying to develop a new skill, Professor? Shooting daggers from your eyes perhaps?" she taunted.
"Leave me be or kill me, obyri," he had to remind himself to not grit his teeth so hard. She wasn't happy, he could immediately tell.
"Look, you sunlight-hugger with a pulse. I'm doing you a favour here, so spare me that holier-than-thou attitude. Do you really think you've survived this entire time based on your own luck? You don't know the pain I go through because of you!" her shout ended in an angry snarl. He had upset her, that much he gathered, but he couldn't care less. His survival didn't require him to make sure she was happy.
"I never asked for a favour, if I recall right. Frankly, you're the one going to all the trouble and making a fuss about it," he shrugged. He couldn't even remember when it was that she began following him. Unlike the other nightstalkers, this one seemed adamant to actually stay in the sunlight, despite the consequences.
"Tell me you don't have them and I'll go away," she said now, narrowing her eyes at him.
He sat back down just as the sun broke past the clouds, to his relief. Airlia uncomfortably took a step back into the darkness of the ruins, while waiting for him to answer. "I don't..." he sounded uncertain to his own ears.
"Liar," she muttered. She didn't sound angry this time, just... sad? He wasn't sure. "What do you want me to say? I'm losing my mind. Every night they consume me, fill my head incessantly. I just want to make it stop," he was honest though not entirely sure why.
"So you do have them. The Connection. Those voices you hear, they're real. For some reason you're channeling into the thoughts of the clans even though you're human," she crossed her long arms across her chest. He didn't seem too impressed by the new information. In fact, it seemed as though he resented her for telling him.
"So I am losing my mind. Then that makes my decision easier," he lifted the gun and rested it against his temple to her horror.
"Stop, there's another way to get through this. Don't do anything stupid," it was the first time he'd seen her so flustered. It made him happy. It wasn't the first time he thought about doing this...he was just looking for an excuse to pull the trigger, really.
He's going to do it...
He's going to kill himself and rid us of his loathsome existence.
Do it, human. End it all. End it all.
The voices are starting early today. He could hear the unbridled glee in the whispers at the thought of his demise. He felt relief; he won't hear their voices when he's dead. He won't have to constantly look over his shoulder and jump at every sound.
He won't have to fear the night anymore.
---
Author's note: This was just some random-dream-inspired babble that I wrote in the middle of the night, so I have no idea whether I want to flesh it out more from this point on. In fact, I don't even know if it's Arashi related or not ^^; But if you guys are interested in reading more, let me know and I'll work on it.
Casting a glance around, he sat with his back to the corner, to make sure no one sneaks up on him. Nowhere is safe, he wrote in his worn leather-bound notebook with shaky fingers. I hear them; plotting, whispering, arguing. They won't stop.
A soft scuffle made him swiftly look up from the page, his eyes darting about as he held out his revolver. But there was only silence in the darkness beyond the edge of the sun's beam he was seated in. He knew they wouldn't cross into the golden light, but days end too quickly now.
Soon, his sanctuary will succumb to the night and the shadows.
It was those shadows he feared. When twilight rears its head, so will the voices.
Suddenly, the golden warmth above his head dimmed, sending his heart plummeting. A mass of grey clouds had gathered above, blotting out the sun like murky mud clouding clear waters. He had to move, now, before there was no room to run.
"There you are, Professor..." came a taunting drawl from the shadowy depths stopping him in his tracks, "Still scribbling in that pathetic little notebook of yours, I see."
Instinct had made him point out his gun even before she had spoken. "What's it to you, obyri?"
She sauntered closer to the light but never actually crossing into it, a catlike smile on her face. "There's a name I haven't heard in centuries. As charming as ever, aren't you?" she sighed and switched a stray lock of jet black hair over her shoulder, "I'm out in daylight because of you, you know. If it wasn't for me, they'd have taken that delicious neck of yours before you could even blink," her voice, despite its current lazy drawl, held a melodious tone. He knew exactly what that voice alone was capable of.
To a human, everything about them was mesmerizing, alluring, perfect. They are like roses; beautiful flowers with thorns that draw you in and take your blood. He refused to call them by their modern name "vampire" since they revel in how humans either cower or become enthralled at the sound of it. Some even find the notion of these creatures "romantic", the fools.
No, the word he uses for them was older, in the Slavic tongue before the Bulgarians adapted and changed it to the common name it is today. He found it more fitting.
This particular creature calls herself Airlia. He had to give her credit: she chose a good name, Greek, meaning Ethereal. And damn it all, she is as ethereal as their kind gets: obsidian hair, lilac-blue eyes with a rosebud mouth and skin that would make even porcelain crumble in envy.
He never liked her.
"Are you trying to develop a new skill, Professor? Shooting daggers from your eyes perhaps?" she taunted.
"Leave me be or kill me, obyri," he had to remind himself to not grit his teeth so hard. She wasn't happy, he could immediately tell.
"Look, you sunlight-hugger with a pulse. I'm doing you a favour here, so spare me that holier-than-thou attitude. Do you really think you've survived this entire time based on your own luck? You don't know the pain I go through because of you!" her shout ended in an angry snarl. He had upset her, that much he gathered, but he couldn't care less. His survival didn't require him to make sure she was happy.
"I never asked for a favour, if I recall right. Frankly, you're the one going to all the trouble and making a fuss about it," he shrugged. He couldn't even remember when it was that she began following him. Unlike the other nightstalkers, this one seemed adamant to actually stay in the sunlight, despite the consequences.
"Tell me you don't have them and I'll go away," she said now, narrowing her eyes at him.
He sat back down just as the sun broke past the clouds, to his relief. Airlia uncomfortably took a step back into the darkness of the ruins, while waiting for him to answer. "I don't..." he sounded uncertain to his own ears.
"Liar," she muttered. She didn't sound angry this time, just... sad? He wasn't sure. "What do you want me to say? I'm losing my mind. Every night they consume me, fill my head incessantly. I just want to make it stop," he was honest though not entirely sure why.
"So you do have them. The Connection. Those voices you hear, they're real. For some reason you're channeling into the thoughts of the clans even though you're human," she crossed her long arms across her chest. He didn't seem too impressed by the new information. In fact, it seemed as though he resented her for telling him.
"So I am losing my mind. Then that makes my decision easier," he lifted the gun and rested it against his temple to her horror.
"Stop, there's another way to get through this. Don't do anything stupid," it was the first time he'd seen her so flustered. It made him happy. It wasn't the first time he thought about doing this...he was just looking for an excuse to pull the trigger, really.
He's going to do it...
He's going to kill himself and rid us of his loathsome existence.
Do it, human. End it all. End it all.
The voices are starting early today. He could hear the unbridled glee in the whispers at the thought of his demise. He felt relief; he won't hear their voices when he's dead. He won't have to constantly look over his shoulder and jump at every sound.
He won't have to fear the night anymore.
---
Author's note: This was just some random-dream-inspired babble that I wrote in the middle of the night, so I have no idea whether I want to flesh it out more from this point on. In fact, I don't even know if it's Arashi related or not ^^; But if you guys are interested in reading more, let me know and I'll work on it.