An Unholy Truce
Author: xXxMistyxXx
Rating: NC-17
Summary: This story is about a town that made an unholy truce (as the title implies) a very long time ago.
Warnings: This is restricted for people under the age of 17 and it is not for the faint of heart. It implies death, vampirism and sexual situations.
“This place is unholy”, he whispered, more to himself than to his companions. Only the young girl beside him heard him.
“I wonder what makes you say that”, she said sarcastically, looking around and shivering at their surroundings. They were all walking through the old graveyard, where most of the tombstones were broken in half, scattered around in pieces or stolen. The ones that were, by sheer luck, still standing, were covered so extensively by moss and other plants that the inscriptions were nearly illegible. Angel statues were standing here and there, some weeping, some others hiding their faces from the sins of the humanity. The wings on most of them were broken, due to time, bad weather conditions and the vandalisms of uncaring people. She shivered again at the thought of what these people had done, the disgraceful cruelty of the act itself making her sick to her core.
For more than five centuries, this graveyard had been the centre of the town’s existence. Their ancestors were buried there, whole families united in mausoleums, their graves reminding those left behind of the shortness and tragedy of life. Now, those truly left behind were walking through the same graveyard, only a handful of people, remembering the words of the elders: “Hurry not towards death, for death will reach you in the end”. And what truth those words held to them! Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, death had reached his cold claws out to them, claiming their lives as his own. And he had taken them. He left no one behind. Though they were not alive, they were not dead either. They lingered between life and death; floating in a gray zone, were life struggled to hold them in her embrace, and death longed to gather them in his sweet arms. But neither could do for them. They had been doomed ever since they were born. Their fate sealed, they could do nothing but wait. Wait for the end that was never to come. Wait for a miracle to break their destiny and save their lives. But nothing happened. It was a hope in vain, to wait for something like that.
“You know, I’m beginning to wonder why we made this agreement in the first place”, said a young man, who had been walking a few meters ahead of them. She looked at him, his bulky form standing out among them. Unanimously - but non-verbally - he had become their leader. Though, where he led them, it mattered not. She sighed audibly.
“Damian, this agreement had been made by our great-great-great grandparents. We had no say in it, and still don’t”, she said, glaring at him. How dare he question what their ancestors had done? What was done was done. No point in being grumpy about it now.
He turned around so fast, his shoulder-length hair made a whipping sound through the afternoon air.
“I know what you’re trying to say, Lynn, and I’m not questioning their intentions in any way, nor am I grumping. I’m just wondering what caused them to agree to this, that’s all”, he said through his teeth. As she gazed at him fiercely, she watched his eyes take on a reddish shade. She leaned in just a little, bringing their noses barely two centimeters away from each other.
“Damian, don’t let this take you over, not here”, she hissed. He frowned and snorted; then he leaned in and captured her lips in a rough kiss. She half-gasped, having not expecting such a reaction at all, but did not pull away. Encouraged, Damian brought his hands to her waist and pulled her to him, her full breasts flush against his chest. He pulled her down with him on the cold grassy ground, continuing his assault to her lips, and she ran her fingers though his hair, trying to keep him still, trying not to let him slip away. They united right there, again and again, desperately holding on to each other. Simultaneously, they reached the edge. Damian ran his fingers over her cold cheeks and the side of her mouth. Lynn opened her eyes and gazed at him though heavy-lidded eyes. The red glow had disappeared from his green eyes.
“Love”, he whispered.
“What?”, she said, running her fingers through his hair, relishing in the soft felling of them.
“I love you, but you know what this is. We all do”, he whispered softly, caressing her back in small circles. Lynn nodded. Of course she knew. How could she not? All of this was nothing but an unholy truce.
THE END