By Greta Rose (13)
I don’t know how it got there, but when I reached into my pocket there was the key. His key, the monsters key. There was no time to think about where it came from, I lifted my head to the sky and thanked whoever or whatever had put it there. My fingers which had been shaking before immediately relaxed when they touched the cold metal and I looked up at the big iron gate before me which lead into the town. Taking a deep breath I slid the key into the lock and with the softest of groans the gate heaved open. I locked the gate back up and took another deep breath before turning to face the town.
The moon was up high. Its silver light dancing off the lids of dustbins surrounding this dark town. Not a light was on, not a window was open, the town was soundly fast asleep unaware of the monster lurking outside their windows. It had been only recently that this small town had been ravaged by a series of rapes and murders, not one policeman had lifted a finger to catch this savaged beast, the mere memory made me cling on tighter to the key. I planned to end this madness, the monster’s days were numbered and the dark swollen patches under my bright red eyes proved that. Ever so gently so as not to make a sound I turned the key over and over in my fingers to help me keep my concentration.
The monsters shadow moved silently across the street blissfully unaware of the pursuit, just as those victims had been before he had pounced. Raising my nose into the air I sucked in a large breath, his scent was overpowering in the dark street. Only not at all what you would call appealing, the warm thrum of his blood was disappointingly over powered by a stench of sweat and beer, I wrinkled my nose but carried on forward. My bare feet made no sound on the concrete floor, I myself made not a sound as the air whipped past my skin. I was ready, I had the key and it was time.
A sharp flow of venom filtered into my mouth. I had never really put this feeling down as a pleasant or un-pleasant notion; it filled me with the pleasure of the hunt but burned the insides of my mouth feverishly. I coiled and spat silently onto the pathway, the burning was not something I could ignore all that easily. Shaking my head I re-focused digging the key deep into my palm just to have the reassurance of it being there, the monster was making his way down towards the gate. Prefect, a big smile spread across my lips and they curled back revealing my razor sharp teeth, already gnashing, anticipating the kill. I flitted silently behind him until he came at a halt before the gate; it was there that I stood my back arched in a feline motion, the moon behind me casting my shadow onto the monster.
Before the monster could get his hand in his pocket I chuckled darkly in the black of the night. The monsters head whipped round, the monster was not un-attractive in any way, his dark black hair was slicked perfectly, his skin tanned and his eyes big and dark. If I didn’t know what he was I would have turned and flashed him a smile, but I knew that this was the fatal mistake of over 10 women. As soon as his dark eyes clapped on me a slow smile spread across his face.
“Well…” the monster said in a silky voice “Hello…”
My lips curled back in a snarl. “Don’t move,” I hissed at him, surprised at the steadiness of my voice. Having the key definitely helped.
“I wasn’t planning…” His eyes drifted to my thin cotton shirt “On going anywhere soon…”
This I actually found funny. As if in a million years this mere mortal could ever seduce and attack me. I smiled at him making sure my teeth flashed in the silvery glow of the moon.
“That makes what I’m about to do a lot easier then…” As my mind imagined the kill a fresh flow of venom spilled into my mouth again, this time the pleasure of the hunt was to great and I was able to ignore it. My red eyes flashed in a small clap of lightening and to my utter pleasure the monsters face changed and he started to frantically search in his pocket.
“You wont find anything in there” my voice, even to me sounded velvet… deadly. I slowly held my hand up dangling the key in front of him.
“H-h-ow did you get that…?” The monsters mouth had dropped, his eyes almost mesmerized by the key. His tanned hand made a quick snatch at it but I was faster. I tore it away and in one quick movement of my hand I crushed the metal key into dust.
The monster let out a small cry and turned desperately to the gate. He made a pathetic attempt to shake them open but failed, without the key this monster was nothing. With his back turned to me I could fully see the smooth skin of his neck pulled taut over his pulse.
I stalked forward, his heat radiating through my body, my throat aching for the warm flow of his blood. My fingers curled, my back arched and I pounced, dropping the dust of the key to the ground as I did so. They made tiny tinkling sounds as they pitter pattered on the floor, just loud enough for me to hear over the scream.
By Greta Rose (13)
By Sarah McCoy (14)
The sound outside grew steadily in volume. The wind howled as it whipped up through the floor boards. The trees outside swayed violently in the wind. What was going on? I opened the front door. It seemed everyone else had opened their doors too. We all stepped cautiously into the street and looked around. Nobody knew what it was; we all looked at each other. The wind was still growing; the wailing getting louder. Then we saw it, everyone’s worse nightmare, heading towards us like an express train with no intention of stopping. It swirled at hundreds of mile an hour engulfing anything that stood in its way. Like a giant cat playing with its prey, picking up houses, trees, and cars and effortlessly throwing them up in to the air. Then, when it was bored, it would spit them out, throwing them forcefully in different directions. Chaos was heading our way. A tornado was heading our way.
I could feel myself starting to panic. Adrenalin coursed through my veins. I knew what I should do; we had done countless drills for this situation. But for some reason I couldn’t move. I was frozen to the spot, mesmerised by this beast of nature. Then it hit home, it was coming towards us, this mass of destruction was headed straight for us. I heard my mum shouting from inside the house. I ran, ran as fast as I could.
My mum and I raced down in to the basement and crouched under the table. My heart was racing. But for a minute time seemed too slowed down. There I was squashed under this table, whilst outside my home, my town was being destroyed. I felt sick. The ground shuddered and all I could hear was the deafening sound of howling winds and smashing bricks. I was petrified, I felt like my world was closing in around me. I felt so helpless. The rumbling became louder and louder, the lights blew, and so there I was, sitting in a pitch black basement awaiting my fate. I was in the hands of the storm. My head was a blur. I could not help but think, what would happen if it got us, if it ripped up the floor and pulled us up. I had seen movies of people being pulled in to tornados, that bit didn’t kill them; it was the thousands of pieces of flying debris that pieced their body that did the killing. I just hoped this was not my fate.
Suddenly I fell back into reality, the door to the basement had been ripped off and we could see daylight. I grabbed hold of the table leg and clung on for dear life. I could feel the comforting presence of my mum behind me. She was whispering things to me, not that I could hear or understand any of it. I could only assume that she was trying to tell me it would be alright. But at this moment in time I could only think of the worse.
It was on top of us now. Everything started to shake as a shock wave seemed to vibrate through the house. Small cracks appeared in the ceiling. Then everything went quiet. I looked at my mum. She just stared back. We were in the eye of the storm, the centre of the tornado. I could hear people on our street, our neighbours, our friends, screaming and crying. I hoped they were alright and prayed we weren’t next. A shiver shot down my spine as the screaming rang through my ears.
Then the howling winds started again, that horrible sound that signalled destruction. To my horror, cracks in the ceiling above me started to grow and I just knew that our house, our home, our memories wereas good as all gone and gone for good. I clung on tighter to the table leg and my mum held on to me from behind. Then to my dismay the cracks turned into holes and the ever darkening light of the storm shone in. I was panicking. This was the end, I was sure of it. At that precise moment I heard a scream from right behind me. My mum. I was far too scared to look around. I felt alone and desperate. My life, my world was dying. Breaking and splitting around me. I looked around, there was my mum, my mum, I grabbed her hand. It was cold, ice cold. My heart skipped a beat…not this, anything by this. The storm could take my home and take my things but not my mum, anything but my mum. I cried out, but then I felt her tighten her grip on my hand, and she looked at me. A brick must have hit her as she had a large gash across her face. I was in sops of tears. I could hear the storm weakening, leaving us to terrorise another soul. But all I could think whether mum would survive. She always comforted me when I was hurting but now I did not know how to comfort her.
As the storm left us, I ran up to our house, there was nothing, absolutely nothing, but I did not care. There were already ambulances in the distance, ready to carry away the victims of the storm. I shouted, shouted as loud as I could. The ambulance came, they took my mum, I saw her lying there, still as a rock. There were so many casualties that I could not go with my mum. I was left behind, sitting on the debris of our house. There was nothing around me apart from broken walls and smashed glass. I sat there and cried, all alone, so very alone. The storm had taken everything and everyone I loved.
I sat there sobbing in to my clothes when one of my neighbours sat down with me. He did not say anything but he looked at me, a look that spoke a thousand words. There we were sitting amongst the wreckage of my home. I could only assume he had also lost everything too. So we sat there, finding comfort in each other’s company. We sat there together, in silence, and thought about the tragedy that had just happened. We sat where my house, my home, had been. We sat and thought.
By Sarah McCoy (14)
THE FIRST VAMPIRE
I came back to find her. If it weren’t for her I wouldn’t have come back at all. What was the point? I obviously wasn’t wanted, angry mobs bearing lit torches and sharp stakes proved that. I hadn’t killed all of them on my way out. Just most of them. There were still burn marks on my white arms from where a few humans had landed in a good swipe. An angry mob was no match for me. I move faster than the wind, I’m stronger than the Gods, I’m thirstier than the others, I’m designed to kill and to kill only.
My heart doesn’t pump out love. My heart doesn’t pump at all. I’m the result of an experiment gone wrong. I’m the first. The first Vampyre. That’s what they call me, Vampyre, demon, murderer. When the Gods decided to mix their blood with the blood of an Angel, to make the perfect being, a shadow slid into the mix. That shadow was me. My thirst. And so I was born, with the strength of the Gods and the beauty of the Angels… and the darkness of the shadow.
Everybody cowered away from me when I fell to earth, rabid with hunger, crazy with newfound strength. She’d been there when I fell, offered me her blood. She was my Angel. The only one to know they would kill me when I fell. I’d disobeyed her, betrayed her. I’d taken many lives and dumped them without guilt. She’d stood over me, eyes filled with sadness. No one can control me. Not even my Angel.
I’d left her village, off to find new blood, less anger. Now I was back. Back only to tell her I was sorry, then I would leave. Off to conquer the world. No human will know me. I would enter their dreams, drain their power, possess their bodies. Some humans will feel me, feel my presence, feel my darkness and act accordingly, setting up superstitions, making up stories.
There’s already a body at my feet. They had been wandering about the forest when I had returned. I’d made it quick. They hadn’t felt a thing. I stooped down and lifted the body into my lap. Dipping a pale white finger into the pool of blood at their throat I write my Angel an empty, apologetic message upon the body’s neck. Looking down, I kiss their cold forehead, leaving a bloody mark upon their skin. Then leaning them against a tree, I move back into the darkness.
It takes my Angel three hours to find the body. Her sweet loving scent fills my nostrils and I lick my lips. She weeps sparkling tears which splash gently onto the bodies skin. She reads my message and weeps harder. She continues to weep as she buries the body and blesses the bloodied soil. Then she too lays herself upon the soil.
I leave that night.
So that’s my story. My story of how I came into your world. No I’m not Dracula, or Edward or any vampire you may have read about. I’d tell you my name, but then I’d have to kill you. I’m not the only vampire. I have bred more of my kind. Sharing my shadow. You see me sometimes, in your dreams, in the corner of your eye, feel me sometimes when the hair on your neck stands up for no reason. I won’t hurt you. Sometimes I’ll take your blood and you’ll get sick but you will get well again.
I never forgot my Angel. I find her sometimes. In people. See her golden light shine from their eyes. These people I watch. Watch them until they die. Protect them. Because I could never hurt my Angel.
Who knows, maybe you are one of those people and I’m stood behind you right now. Don’t bother turning your head – you won’t see me. If you feel me, feel my presence on the skin of your neck, in the aching beat of your heart. Maybe you’ll talk to me tonight. I may not answer, but I’ll listen.