Basically for the beginning part that I didn't write (I may or may not elaborate on this and make it a whole story) This guy and this girl who were dating were both special... as in they were kinda like vampires but without all the drinking blood evil etc. stuff... Anyway, neither of them know who the other is. This boy (Dare) was always fighting with this one girl who was evil and his girlfriend (Sharon) finds out what/who he is. He doesn't know this but she is the evil girl and once he breaks up with her she tries to kill him etc. This scene is right after he finds out who she is.
Yes, its confusing.... try to figure it out lol.
also... its not great... I know lol its unedited since I don't think I'll be doing much with it.
- ○ - - ○ - - ○ - - ○ - - ○ - - ○ - - ○ - - ○ - - ○ - - ○ - - ○ -
Sheer, white curtains danced nervously between black walls in the wind. A knife whizzed through the cool air and slipped into a large, framed painting hanging above a dark fireplace. Two silhouettes shot past the gaping hole serving as a window, the bulkier one tossed mercilessly onto the ebony marble floor. The thinner one, a girl, grabbed the boy's shoulders and flung him across the room. With inhuman agility and speed she jumped from various furniture items, tossing them to the floor. She grabbed the knife and tore it from the painting, racing to the boy again. Her thin, white fist hit his jaw, jerking his head back. She kicked a bare foot at his chest and he fell back onto the low table behind him. She threw herself ontop of him and lodged the knife in the table millimeters away from his ear. Sweat dripped from his forehead.
She lowered herself so their noses almost touched and smirked.
"Really, Dare... I expected so much more from you," She whispered, long, black curls slipping from her shoulders and onto his chest. "I knew I would win, but I expected it to be harder." His heavy breathing did not slow as he spoke, his words feeble and forced.
"You haven't won yet," He hissed, almost as a challenge. She let out a loud, clear laugh that echoed through the mansion's vast halls.
"But victory is so close I can touch it," She said, letting her fingers run first over his face, then the handle of her knife. Slowly and steadily she jerked it from the thick wood and held it to his throat. She gently leaned in and let her lips brush his. She did not pull away as she said, "Don't feel too bad though, you could never have defeated an immortal." With that she shut her crimson eyes and jabbed the knife into his throat. He gasped, then went limp.
With a malicious smile she lifted herself from him. She pulled the knife from him, lifted a corner of her midnight dress and slid the blade into a band around her leg. She flicked her waves behind her as she stood upright. She let out a yelp at what stood in front of her. She knew he was not an immortal... but there he was. She looked behind her but the body was still lying limp on the table.
"Sharon," Dare laughed. Speechless, she reached out her hand to him, pointing a steady finger at both him and his dead body.
"You didn't really fall for that trick, did you? You should have known I was stronger than that." He took a step towards her, laughing again. The breeze from the open window played with his chestnut hair. She let out an aggravated yell and in one swift movement she swiped the knife out and shot it into his chest. Just as he fell, four more Dares came out of the surrounding halls. She turned around, planning on jumping from the window and escaping, but six more stood waiting, the same cocky smile that the last Dare had playing on their lips.
She pounced at one of them, punching his stomach, then cracking his neck. As he fell limp she felt several pairs of large hands grab her muclusar arms. She kicked behind her blindly, felt contact and one hand loosen its grip, then thrust her elbow out of the strong grasp holding her back and watched it smash into one man's chest. He let go of her, shocked at her strength, and she notced the hollowness behind his eyes. With disgust she realised that they were probably all fakes and the real Dare was not even in the building. She ducked suddenly and rolled out of their grasp, sommersaulting to the body with her knife in it. She grabbed it and stabbed it at the Dare clinging to her leg. He fell limp and another Dare came towards her. She punched them, kicked them, stabbed them and sliced them until her own fists and feet bled and her whole body showed signs of being beat.
Just as she slid her blade into the last Dare's chest she felt a thick, muscular arm wrap itself around her neck from behind. She tightened her grip on the knife and flung her arm back, stabbing it into his bicep. His grip loosened just enough for her to duck and dash into a moonlit hall as he pulled it out, blood pouring to his feet. She knew immediately it was the real Dare as he caught up to her. He slammed his forearm into the side of her head and she hit the wall, sliding along the glassy floor from the momentum. Before she had even stopped sliding she flipped herself back up and flung her body back at him.
She had planned for her feet to impact him in the ribs, but he was quick as her and he managed at grab her ankles and slip to the side. He spun once then released her into a beam between two gaping windows. She looked behind her and saw the long drop to the ground. Impulsively she jumped forward, away from the edge, right towards Dare. He slammed his large fist down but she rolled to the side a split second too fast and it hit marble. He winced slightly. She stood up quickly and shoved him forward, toward the window. He fell towards it but caught a beam just in time to save himself. He swung in a circle to the outside of the building then back in, dropping on top of her. She screamed in agony as one arm crumpled under her weight. The other one, now holding another blade, flailed in his directing, slicing deep into the flesh on his chest. He grunted and grabbed it from her, pinning her down as best as he could. He dropped the knife beside him and for a moment they struggled against each other, both almost evenly matched with each other.
Her injured arm straightened out and she threw her fist into his face. He tasted warm blood on his tongue and grabbed her wrist. He shoved it to the ground and heard a crack as the bone shattered. She cried out, both of her wrists now pinned down. Her pale legs were held down by his, and the only weapon she had was just out of reach. Desperate, she leaned forward and bit his neck, his blood dripping into her mouth. The salty taste was familiar, and she almost welcomed it. With a cry of pain he released her broken wrist and grabbed her neck, forcing it to the marble beneath them. She gaged and coughed, giving him the half-second he needed to grab the bloody knife from beside her and press it against her throat. Her eyes widened and she gasped.
"Not so immortal now, are you?" He hissed, pressing the blade harder against her. The fear fled from her face and was replaced with a smug smirk.
"Don't speak too soon. You can crush an immortal and beat her to the ground, but killed she will never be," Sharon whispered, her bloody lips moving slowly, tauntingly. He held back his shout of displeasure and slit her throat. Her quiet laugh slithered into his ears. To his horror, she did not go limp, nor did her eyes close. A pale smoke flowed front her fingertips and from her tongue. It englufled them, stung his eyes and blurred his vision. He could not see, but he felt immense heat, then a deathly cool below him. When he was restored his vision, she was gone, the only thing remaining to remind him of her existense was her taunting laughed echoeing from the shadows...
-(c)adrienne
.bmp)
No comments:
Post a Comment