Night's+Sneak+Peeks

The wind is howling. The coldness is sharp. He hears music, music that is endlessly haunting. Curled beneath the snow, arms tightly wrapped around him, he tries letting his mind to cease the pain. He longs to forget, everything that has happened in the past. He knows that he is going to die. He knows that the end is coming. He lets the memories flow back to him. The bloody little angel, with so much evil, had smiled at him maliciously. He had pushed the thought away. It is one of the only mistakes he made in his entire life. His eyelids droop.
 * These are seriously written from second grade. Needs a lot of editing, obviously.**

Darkness engulfed the room, and his body convulsed in silent agony. Coldness wrapped its fingers around the boy, the shadows gleaming in his eye. It was pain of darkness and coldness that stung his heart and shattered it into nothing. But in the room, he knew that there was a way out. So //freezing// cold… His arms curled around his body, but it didn’t comfort him. It brought a feeling of despair and hopelessness into his soul, ringing out like a key being struck. He didn’t remember what warmth felt like. The floor creaked silently. He jolted in fear. Then his finger pressed against the ground. It was unforgivably hard and chilling, sending sparkles of terror to his bones. He saw the white, clean snow outside the dungeon, but he could barely make it out. He was dying, but not dead. His eyes were closing, but still blinking. This was what his mother called //the end,// wasn’t it? Why so painful, why so poisonous? Why couldn’t //the end// be peaceful and quick? He was shivering, but his mind could not endure the death. He could not think. Could not breathe. Could not remember. //Help me, someone help me. Help me. Help me!// Screaming sounds, angry cursing lingered in his head. It would not stop. Eyes. Brown ones, large and innocent. They were unreadable, but he could see them. There was sweetness inside them that he could not explain. “Help,” his mouth formed. The rest of the body was revealed to him: a slim, little girl before him. She was beautiful and yet adorable, with a scent that whispered //fire// again and again. She unlocked the door, staring at him, tilting his head with naivety. She was silent, pale, and angelic. “Thank you,” he whispered, and his hand touched her hand once. The girl looked at him in curiosity, but her mouth did not move. She just looked. When he turned around and gazed back at her again, she was already gone. She was gone as if she had never been there. All of this was forgotten ten years later.

(UGH THIS ONE IS SO AWKWARD WHAT THE HELL)

“Here stands the Sunlight Vampire.”

A voice whispers from behind Adara. There is calmness and distinctiveness stretched across it, but yet burning with mockery.

Without turning around, she replies, “Hello, Lucine.”

She finally looks him straight in the eye, tilting her head sideways with a straight smile.

Oh, Hell, he is so beautiful. So perfect. The cream-white hair with gold licking upon the edges, eyes dark blue as a light, lovely midnight, there is flaming power beyond her reach twisted in his body.

“Have you decided whom you are to side on, yet?” he asks quietly. His tone is dangerous, but bathed with amusement. The flicker of fury that dwells in his pupils melts into an expression of a mingled combination of sympathy and light.

His skin pushes heat, bloody heat toward her, her cool skin transforming into breathtaking warmth.

“I need more time,” she says softly.

“How innocence is sweetened by honey,” he breathes, stepping so close to Adara that she can feel his hot breath warming against hers. They fall together in an even beat, nearly silent, but still audible. Then his lips curl slightly, so slightly that it is barely considered a movement.

“Why, //thank you.//” Adara lurches away from him with rapid speed, eyes filled with despair, but she conceals her emotion as fast as light.

“Sweet, innocent Adara,” he whispers. “Sweet, innocent Adara.”

Lucine’s eyes stream into hers, and their gaze does not break.

He is //so close,// only inches apart. She can senses his malicious soul flickering with life, but somehow she does not care.

She then feels her head tilt back and her lips part a bit. She can’t endure it anymore; the desire is embracing her surroundings. The resistance only brings pain, slow, horrible pain.

Soft lips capture icy lips, and the deadly gentleness lurches her heart, memories flowing into her again. The work-free life in high school, the scream of her mother, the small cell.

She sees it outburst in wild, vivid images. Tears ooze down her cheeks, cascading down with clear, crystal droplets. Her fingers curl against his body, her nostrils clinging onto the sick-sweet scent of almonds rebounding off of his smooth, curving skin.

The tip of her tongue touches his lips quickly, undeniably sweet and fiery.

Her fangs ascend from her mouth, and her eyes, her blue eyes glitter red with hunger. A demon in the dark, she is. She draws blood from his neck, swallowing in gulps.

Then she allows her fangs to decrease into small canines, and with her mind, she drains away the poison from the wound. The poison of a vampire bite.

It reduces into a bite of less than nothing. And then, narrowing her eyes, she walks away, leaving into mist.

He runs. Matthew hears his blood pounding in his ears, tremendous noise thumping. Fear, hunger, and weakness. That is what he owns. He breathes in and out, sounding ragged and harsh. He knows he cannot win the hunt against Lucine, the powerful, young Hunter. He is a Hunter too inexperienced. So why is he playing Lucine’s game? Because he thinks he can somehow win? No. There is no way. Matthew wishes he were never involved. This is never going to be a game to enjoy, a game to die from. This is never going to be an exciting game, only a horrifying game. And so he’s stuck playing. His long fingers flick into the air, only feeling smoothness and emptiness. Good. He’s free now, but yet there is an aching within him. He needs the sun to come out. He is as powerless as a human with nothing to defend himself. He’s in danger, so much danger. He watches the sun rise slowly. Lucine is so handsome, strong, and dangerous. But Matthew knows his weakness that is a curse never allowed to be broken. He knows how to defeat him, but it will be ever so hard. His body curls behind the bushes even more. He is trembling, waiting for him to find him, but he also senses a magical amount of heaviness in the air. It seems too dark today. He is so hungry for light, and the clock ticks by in silence. But it feels as though it will never come, and will never arrive into this side of the earth. He wants to kill, but he knows that a bullet will easily murder him. He is useless in anything to help destroy the entire world. //Come on, sun. Come on.// He sees the beginnings of the fiery colors. The reds, yellows, and every shade of purple turn in circles in the twilight skies. It is beautiful and lovely, and breathtaking. His lips curl, but he is uneasy. He wonders whether he can survive it to the light – or not. He longs to live until tomorrow, and that is all. He longs to live to see the sun one last time. It creeps up. So slow, so nice, so joyful. He captures all that he can during the last moments of twilight. Then, he turns around, tears in his eyes. He can see the entire sun.


 * First Grades: **
 * (I'll post some when I happen to be on the other laptop.) **