Raivh
Old dog
- Joined
- Jul 21, 2011
Dark clouds blotched out the moon as a storm swirled overhead. Thunder cracked and lightning flashed, creating a racket as he unpacked the last of his belongings. Time and time again he’d packed and unpacked, and most of what he owned was very old, very antique. Pulling out a rectangular item wrapped in yellowed newspaper, he brushed his thumb over the corner and took a deep breath. With each slide of hand, the newspaper fell away and to the floor, revealing more of an old black and white image of a young woman, her eyes still seeming very much alive, though she had died many years ago, and many, many times. Clenching his jaw, he wrapped the picture back up and placed in the bottom of the box with about a dozen more. The last time he’d seen her, he’d wanted pictures, fearing that she would be killed, and she had been. Images of her broken body and blood still plagued his mind. They were visuals that should have enticed him as a vampire, a creature of the dark, a danger, a being abhorred. Instead, they made his stomach churn, and his temper heat.
Quietly he rose from the bed, carrying the box in strong arms and setting it in the bottom of a closet. He shut the door, aware that he wouldn’t open it until the next time he forced himself to move on. This was her neighborhood, her world, but she was his and no one else’s, as she always had been. The day he’d arrived, he’d seen her once, had caught her gaze; she still had those eyes. They were the most alluring pair of eyes he’d ever seen on a woman. Stepping into the bathroom, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it back into the bedroom, staring at his lack of a reflection in the mirror. Nothing about him had changed; nothing physical anyway. His body was still very much the same as it had been the day his sire had turned him into this monstrosity that could never step out into the light of day, not without risking severe injury or a fiery, painful death. The first time the sun’s ultraviolet rays had charred his skin, she’d been there, and he could still hear her voice, scolding him for doing something so foolish. He’d lost her back then, too.
Exhaling, he moved out of the bathroom, gliding with eerie elegance through the two-story home that had cost him nothing with as much money as he’d earned over the years and from various countries. With a glance to the sliding glass doors leading out to the backyard, he paused, watching the water shimmer in the dim lamplight. Looking away, he walked to the front door and stepped out, into the night and the rain that poured in torrents from above. His lips parted and he spoke her name, knowing she wouldn’t hear him, not yet. He could get into her mind, let her hear his voice, his thoughts, and if she would let him, hers as well, whenever she wished and no matter where she was. Stepping down from the shelter of the porch awning, he wandered down the driveway and to the sidewalk, turning right to take a walk. It would be enough for him this time, just to see her; he didn’t need to touch her, kiss her, tell her he loved her and hear her utter the same in quiet moments and moments of passion, lust.
Quietly he rose from the bed, carrying the box in strong arms and setting it in the bottom of a closet. He shut the door, aware that he wouldn’t open it until the next time he forced himself to move on. This was her neighborhood, her world, but she was his and no one else’s, as she always had been. The day he’d arrived, he’d seen her once, had caught her gaze; she still had those eyes. They were the most alluring pair of eyes he’d ever seen on a woman. Stepping into the bathroom, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it back into the bedroom, staring at his lack of a reflection in the mirror. Nothing about him had changed; nothing physical anyway. His body was still very much the same as it had been the day his sire had turned him into this monstrosity that could never step out into the light of day, not without risking severe injury or a fiery, painful death. The first time the sun’s ultraviolet rays had charred his skin, she’d been there, and he could still hear her voice, scolding him for doing something so foolish. He’d lost her back then, too.
Exhaling, he moved out of the bathroom, gliding with eerie elegance through the two-story home that had cost him nothing with as much money as he’d earned over the years and from various countries. With a glance to the sliding glass doors leading out to the backyard, he paused, watching the water shimmer in the dim lamplight. Looking away, he walked to the front door and stepped out, into the night and the rain that poured in torrents from above. His lips parted and he spoke her name, knowing she wouldn’t hear him, not yet. He could get into her mind, let her hear his voice, his thoughts, and if she would let him, hers as well, whenever she wished and no matter where she was. Stepping down from the shelter of the porch awning, he wandered down the driveway and to the sidewalk, turning right to take a walk. It would be enough for him this time, just to see her; he didn’t need to touch her, kiss her, tell her he loved her and hear her utter the same in quiet moments and moments of passion, lust.