More of Amalya, Leon, his warriors, Mika and introducing Dante.Ratings/reviews appreciated
|Amalya threw herself at her bedroom door again, ignoring the pain of her bones crunching from the impact. But still the door remained in tact. She had been up for hours, trying to get out of her room. She needed to find Mika, she needed to get out. She rolled her shoulders and threw herself at the door again, but only crumpled to the ground. She cried out in pain and anguish, it was useless.
Amongst the pain, was the dreaded itching under her skin and the burning thirst in her throat. She tried to ignore it and got to her feet. Examining herself she could see the welling in her skin beneath her tattoos. She sighed loudly and sat on her bed trying to think of a plan.
She had changed into more covering clothes when she decided she had to leave. Now she was wearing a pink blouse that covered her shoulders and a thick leather jacket that Mika had left in her room the night before. She struggled to keep her wings curled behind her back, it was uncomfortable but necessary if she were to be seen. She didn’t own any pants so she settled for a skirt and high boots, so her tattoos were covered. Looking at herself now though was like looking at a stranger.
The itching under her skin was getting worse, she had ignored it for far too long. The burn in her throat was making it harder to breathe. She scanned the room for something sharp to use on herself. She ended up finding a letter opener in one her bedroom drawers. She pulled the sleeve of her jacket up to reveal her many scars. She had never done this on her own and she wondered if she could now. But she wasn’t about to face off her evil side, so she pressed the sharp end to her forearm... and stopped.
Her whole point of cutting was to satiate her thirst and need to use her magic. But she was stuck in her room now and she needed to get out, she couldn’t do it physically. But she could use her magic, just this once. She squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated on what wanted out. She let the itch in her skin be the only thing she felt and thought about.
Behind the lids of her eyes she could see a light, that couldn’t have been the sun, it was night time. She opened her eyes and gasped. Where her sleeve was rolled up, her skin glowed. She slid her jacket off and saw that all of her tattoos were glowing. With wide eyes she stumbled towards her bedroom door. The itching under her skin had turned to a burning. It wasn’t completely painful, but more uncomfortable and foreign. She placed her hands on the door and braced herself.
“Burn,” she whispered, but was only rewarded with a small amount of heat in her palms.
She thought of Mika, of wherever she was and whatever danger she was in. She thought of possibly having to live alone for the rest of her eternal life and not being able to see the world ever. She thought of never seeing or smelling the flowers and clothes Mika brought her.
“Burn!” she yelled through the stinging in her eyes.
The door burst into flames that licked there way out of her palms. Although the wood around her went up in flames, she felt nothing on her hands. The wooden door turned black of coal before her eyes and the embers fell to the floor. She stared at the open doorway in astonishment. She did it, she really did it.
Before she could leave she ran to her bed and picked the letter opener from the sheets. As quickly as she could she sliced the inside of her arm, letting the venom of magic and thirst leave her body with her blood. After a few minutes she licked her wound into healing, grabbed her duffel bag and headed out into the real world.
Mika tried to open her eyes but was only able to open one. The other was swollen shut. It seemed as though every part of her body ached. She could taste blood in her mouth that was dry from dehydration. The taste left in her mouth made her gag reflexively, but she had nothing to throw up. Amongst the blood that soaked her body, a thin sheen of sweat formed on her head as she panted for breath. How could she still be alive?, she wondered. She was sure the last blow should have killed her. After the necklace was ripped from her neck and Leon-the huge vampire- had seen it. He had roared a horrible spine retching growl that hurt her ears and he flew so quickly towards her she hadn’t had time to blink and the binds around her stopped her from reacting. When he struck her, it felt like a Mack truck had hit her. Blackness instantly swallowed her.
She groaned rolling onto her side and wrapping her arms around herself... wait, she thought. She wasn’t bound anymore, she reached her arms up to her eye level and saw the raw marks on her wrists, where the restraints had bit into her skin. She frowned and glanced down at her ankles, which too were covered in blood and raw. Lifting her head, she could only see darkness. Perhaps her vision was impaired, she could only see out of the one eye. She tried to sit up, but it felt like she was being held down.
“Don’t,” a voice warned her, she was being held down she realised. She pushed against the hold with what strength she had and sat up. The world spun before her eyes and she swayed back to the floor.
“Stupid Ghuardian, always so strong. Lay. Down!” she complied, not because she wanted to, but because her body couldn’t hold itself together. With a groan she settled back on her elbows, leaning high enough to catch the eyes of who was before her. There was no mistaking those icy blue eyes.
“Tate?” she asked blindly, her voice sounding barely past a whisper. She coughed and winced at the pain.
“Drink this,” he ordered her, ignoring her question.
He reached for her hand and she flinched away from his icy cold touch. But he grabbed her anyway and propped her up enough to force her mouth open. He poured a liquid down her throat and she chocked, coughing and crying against the pain. Tate’s arms held her as she retched and gasped for breath, his touch was careful. He tried again, propping her in his lap and opening her mouth. The liquid went down easier this time and she swallowed in greedy pulls, her stomach churned and she fought not to throw it back up
“Wha...” she tried to talk but her voice was no more than a harsh whisper.
“What was it?” Tate asked her, he turned a light on and Mika blinked hard against the glare. She nodded and turned her head in his lap, to look into his drawing eyes. He smiled bemused down at her, “That,” he said, “was my blood”
Mika’s working eye widened and she looked into his hands to see the mug, lined with a dark red liquid. His blood? She pulled herself away from him and crawled as far as her body would let her away. She held her raw hand over her mouth and fought the urge to throw up.
“Relax,” Tate said calmly raising to his feet, “It’s not going to hurt you, it will do the opposite actually”
Mika knew this, she learnt it at the academy. There was a story about a ghuardian that had been charged with a vampire. They were attacked by a Fairmpyre during the war and the vampire had escaped with her life, while her ghuardian had very nearly been killed. She had cut her wrist and let her blood flow through her ghuardians mouth. The ghuardian had healed completely and lived to still, this day, be hers and only hers.
Mika could feel the healing taking place in her body, her eyesight was clearing and her body wasn’t so sore. She looked around her, she was in a smaller room than the main hall. It was small here and clearly a bedroom. There was a bed in the corner with black satin sheets and tons of pillows. A TV was planted into the wall and she wondered how it worked in the tunnels. She became acutely aware that she was practically naked. Her shirt and jacket had been ripped from her body by Leon and all she had now was her torn pants and a bra. Still consciously aware that Tate was in the room she wrapped her arms around herself.
“Here,” she looked up to Tate standing over her, a robe in his outstretched hand. She snatched in from him and quickly drew it on. Tate slowly took a seat on the floor in front of her, his gaze was curious and locked on her.
“You look like shit,” he said bluntly, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Well I just had the shit, beaten out of me,” Mika replied, surprised her voice sounded strong. Tate chuckled lowly and reached for his cigarettes, he put one to his mouth and stroke a match. The room filled with the smell of cloves.
“Want one?” he asked her, his arms reached towards her.
She picked one out of his pack, her hands still shaking. But he just handed her the one in his mouth and lit another. She took a deep breath on the cigarette and exhaled a cloud of smoke. The cloves seemed to ease her.
“Stuff will kill you, you know,” Tate said waving his smoke in front of him. Mika ignored him and smoked quietly to herself.
“Why are you helping me?” she finally asked, after minutes of silence. She looked up to see him staring at nothing, a thoughtful look on his face.
“I don’t know. Curious” he shrugged. Mika glared at him. He met her glare and frowned before sighing loudly, “I had a ghuardian once,” was all he said, but the way he said it had Mika actually feeling sad for him. She shook it off quickly though, vampires were tricky.
She put her smoke in the ashtray between them on the floor and reached her hand to her face. She was able to pull her eyelids away from each other. But she still couldn’t quite see out that eye. She saw that the marks on her arms and legs were fading into angry red scars, she frowned at them.
“Its my blood. You will heal,” Tate said and Mika jumped when he touched her.
He had a wet cloth in his hand and was rubbing against her wrists. The dry blood smudged slowly away. He had elegant hands, she noticed. As her gaze swept his hands she looked higher and saw the same barely healed marks on his arms, they looked like bite marks. She looked up to his face to see he was following her gaze, he smirked.
“The king is a force to be reckoned with,” he explained, dipping the cloth into a bucket beside him.
“The king?” she asked him, surprised she could even speak to the vampire.
“Yeah, yeah. The king of all vampires, the last pure blooded vampire blah blah,” he said and shrugged, “He was going to kill you, there and then”
“You stopped him?” she asked incredulously, remembering the terrifying power and size radiating off the king.
“Is that a thank you?” he said sarcastically, rubbing at her ankles now. She shook her head, not because she didn’t believe him but because she couldn’t believe he had saved her. “Anyway” he waved his hand in dismissal, “Lets get to the point. What the hell, were you doing with a Fairmpyre?” he almost spat the last word and Mika cringed. Amalya, she thought in despair. She was alone now, would Mika ever get to see her again? Was she safe?
“Hey, no silence. I saved you. Now you talk,” Tate said leaning back on his elbows.
“I’m her ghuardian,” was all Mika said, Tate frowned.
“I know that. But why a Fairmpyre, you have to know what they did”
“Yes, of course. There’s more to it than that...” Mika watched him with cautious eyes, he seemed on the verge of snapping.
“What more could there be? They killed vampires, they hunted humans and they certainly didn’t spare ghuardians. Yet here you are, the ghuardian of a Fairmpyre”
Mika didn’t know what to say, she didn’t want to say anything. In fear of saying to much, she wouldn’t lead them to Amalya, not a chance. She would take that to her grave. Tate seemed to have finally lost his hold, he jumped to his feet in anger and glared down at Mika.
“They burnt our mothers, they drowned our fathers, they smothered our children and friends and they fed on the humans!” he snarled, his lips curling over his fangs. “I may have saved your life ghuardian. But as far as I’m concerned, those who even associate themselves with a Fairmpyre, may as well be one themself!” he chocked on his words and Mika watched as his eyes glistened with tears, but he turned away and practically ran out the door, slamming it behind him.
Leaving Mika alone.
“Earth to Dante!” a voice snapped Dante out of his staring.
He was on the corner of Burley Street, outside a local Starbucks store. The girl he was with was his best friend Lucia. She was tall and curvy, with wild red hair. She was wearing her usual wear, jeans and a band shirt. They had been friends since childhood. When Dante met her eyes she frowned at him and shook her head, red curls falling around her face.
“Sorry, day dreaming,” he muttered.
“Ya think” she laughed and sighed.
Dante was a curious guy, always insightful. He was in a local band called ‘Mishap in Tulack’, something his idiot friends had come up with. He played guitar and sang. He was a fairly average looking guy, he thought. Brown hair that no matter how hard he tried to style never stayed anything but messy. His eyes a dead blue. He had no girlfriend, no love interest. This didn’t bother him though really, he was too busy with everything else. He gazed around the streets; it was a fairly busy afternoon. Men and woman in their work uniforms were buzzing around with coffees and there cells to their ears. Some watching where they were going, others not looking until they ran into a trash can. Other civilians were walking their dogs and chatting aimlessly with the people around them.
Dante was always fascinated with life and the world itself. He liked to think that he had a different perspective then everyone else. That’s why he loved to watch others. The various emotions and attitudes intrigued him and the vastly different sorts of people also. Whether they were black, white, Asian, tall, fat, short, whatever colour hair, whatever coloured eyes, the different tones of voices. All of it was what captivated him. People thought he was weird and he was constantly glared at or yelled at for his staring.
“Your doing it again!” Lucia snapped, Dante laughed and sipped at his coffee. Black with two sugars, his hero.
“I’m finding inspiration, you know how we muso’s are Luce” he smiled as his friend rolled her green eyes and pulled him down the street.
“So what movie we going to see? I’m in the mood for something soppy and romantic”
“Ah, two words for you woman. Hell. No”
“Fine, but your buying popcorn”
Dante gazed at the sun in the sky, loving the warmth on his skin. It was spring in Tulack, so the air was gentle and clean. Breathing deeply through his nose, he could smell the roses and freshly mowed grass. As well as gas from the crowded streets and the overly packed stench of shop garbage cans. Dante had grown up in Tulack, never travelled. But it was all he wanted, he wanted to live life in other cities and see more people. See more, smell more and taste more. All his earnings from his slow paced music career went towards his travel fund. So it would be years before he could travel, he had no parental help.
He grew up in an orphanage down town, didn’t know his parents or have any family. His friends were limited to whoever he went to school with years ago and now it was mainly Lucia he stayed in touch with. Being couped up inside the orphanage for 14 years had killed him. But when he was fostered into a family he slowly built his appreciation for life. His foster parents had disowned him once he turned 20 and now he had his own apartment, if you could call it that.
“...yeah animals do it for me too, not the same as woman though”
“Huh” Dante glanced at his friend, who was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes.
“Oh, nothing” she giggled again, “I’m just going to run to that ATM, I’ll be black”
“I’ll be white here” Dante chuckled as she ran over the street.
Dante rolled his tongue over his lip ring and ran his hand through his messy hair. He was standing outside the local cinema; it wasn’t too busy seeing it was still school hours. He didn’t miss school, been there done that, he thought. School hadn’t been entirely hard, but it wasn’t easy either. He dealt with his failing grades and constant bullying from others with low self esteems; good riddance was what he thought.
He was watching an old couple help each other off a park bench seat when he saw her.
He blinked once, twice, three times thinking he’d finally gone over the edge. But she was still there. Her hair shone in the sun, reflecting what he swore were many different colours. Her skin, ivory white and the amount of clothes she was wearing made him think she may have been foreign.
“Can you believe I only have twenty bucks left?” Lucia complained, her voice was only background noise to Dante.
It was warm spring here and he could get by in shorts and a shirt, but the girl across the lot was wearing high black boots, a skirt and a heavy leather jacket. He lifted his eyes and saw her face, his mouth fell open. She was an angel he thought, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He couldn’t see her eyes but her face looked as though it were carved out of stone, perfect. From her full pink lips, to her high cheekbones and her perfectly straight nose. Super model, he thought.
“Jesus Christ Dante...”
Apart from her astounding body and face, something was concerning him. The way she walked was slow and deliberate. Looking at her face, he could see she was definitely terrified. Her eyes darted back and forth and she seemed to be slowly swaying in her movements. Maybe she wasn’t well, something was wrong. Dante being his chivalrous self, straightened his shirt and shorts and started walking towards her.
“Dante where are you-“
“Be back in a sec” he waved his hands behind himself at Lucia, never taking his eyes off the girl metres away.
Amalya was on sensory overload. The sun was burning her skin, not at all as delightful as she thought. Once she had found her way away from the house she had followed the sound of cars and found herself surrounded by humans. They ran into her a lot and grunted nasty words at her. Some stared at her and winked at her. And occasionally the cars would let out loud noises, making her jump. All the smells that surrounded her varied from strong acidy wafts that made her nose burn and familiar smells of flowers. She caught smells of the fabrics she had worn and the smells of the emotion around her stunned her. Stress, happiness, anger, sadness, fear, anxiety. Her head was spinning and more than anything else her throat was positively on fire.
She shouldn’t have left the house, she should have stayed at home. She was so terrified that she couldn’t blink, she couldn’t close her eyes. Her breath was coming out in harsh pants and she started to sway towards the floor beneath her.
Her face was inches from the ground before something stopped her.
She was held upright by something, she looked up to see it was a human. She wanted to run and scream but she couldn’t move. She gasped when she saw the human completely. It was a male, the first male she had ever come in contact with. His strangely dark blue eyes watched her with concern, his hair was messy, and falling around his heart shaped face. She could smell his worry and a strange scent like spices, perfume. His scent was sending dagger like feeling throughout her throat.
“Are you okay?” his deep voice asked her and she gasped again. The voice of a male, a human male. Her heart fluttered in her chest. She started falling again, “Whoa” the human carried her to a bench and sat her down, not letting go.
Amalya couldn’t take her eyes off him, how fascinating. His skin was dark, compared to hers. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body. He had strange metal things poking out of his face and ears. She stared in fascination at the hair that grew on his face and his legs below his shorts. She slowly regained control of herself through concentrating on the one human. Everything slowly started to fade out from her ears and nose and her heart slowed down. She was still hot though, under all her clothes she could feel the moisture of sweat building its way up her back between her wings.
The man reluctantly took a seat beside her, his eyes never leaving hers.
“Hey, what’s your name?” he asked smiling, he had very nice teeth.
She continued staring at him, tilting her head to the side curiously. His voice was lovely, deep and strong. After some time he pulled his gaze away from hers and played with the hem in his shirt. Amalya took a deep breath and smelt the nervousness come off him. Through his shirt she could see he had big arms, making her feel tiny. She didn’t know what to expect when she would finally see a male, let alone a human. She never thought she would, but now she did she was enthralled. The man turned his head to look at her again, he raised an eyebrow, how did he do that? She thought.
“Do you speak English?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she replied and she noticed his surprise when she spoke. His blue eyes widened for a moment, flickering over her body.
“Well, my name is Dante” he held his hand out between them, Amalya stared at it curiously. After a moment he dropped it and ran it through his hair, making it stick up in various directions.
“Hello, Dante,” she said, watching him stare at her again, “I am Amalya”
“Your not from around here are you?” he asked her.
“I am” she frowned at him, wondering why he would assume that.
“Oh, sorry,” he muttered, biting the metal in his lip.
“You have no need to be sorry Dante” he looked at her again and smiled, his cheeks dimpling.
“Are you feeling any better?”
Amalya hadn’t realised his arms were still supporting her until he pulled away then.
“I’m... yes. Thank you” she was at loss for words.
She didn’t know how to converse with a human, she had only ever talked to one person in her life... Mika. The thought of Mika had her breathing harder again and her heart picked up pace in her chest. She left for a reason, she had to find Mika. She quickly fumbled through her jacket and took the silver locket off her neck, Mika had the same one too. She opened the lock with shaking hands and retrieved the photo of Mika. It was a photo Amalya had taken not long ago, Mika stood in her doorway awkwardly, her short hair smoothed around her face. She had an awkward smile on her face, but her blue-gray eyes were warm and kind. Looking at the picture made her heart ache with longing and worry.
“Dante? Have you seen this woman?” she asked him, handing the photo over. He took it carefully from her hands and frowned as he looked.
“I haven’t” he smiled apologetically, handing the photo back. There fingers touched for a second and he gasped puling away, “Your hands...”
Amalya jumped off the seat quickly, shoving the photo back in her pocket.
“Thank you for your help,” she said quickly and started walking away, with no direction.
“Amalya... wait!” he called after her, but she kept walking.
She knew it was dangerous for her to be associating with a human. She had a secret to keep, humans couldn’t know about the clandestine of creatures that truly surrounded them. They were blind to it, they had to stay that way. She should have known better, there were things about her that proved what she was. From her tattoos to her wings. To her looks and to her fangs. Also her skin and body temperature was the same as the dead. The difference between her and that human was clear when their hands had touched. He was warm and alive, she was dead and ice cold.
She picked up her pace and started across a road. Her eyes burnt with tears and her body screamed danger at her. This was a bad idea, she thought.
She was half way across the road, walking blindly. When she heard the screeching of something loud and felt the impact of something hard hitting her in the side and sending her a few feet from where she stood. She cried out mid-flight and fell with a harsh impact to the road before her. She heard someone cry out her name, but everything went out of focus and her sight went hazy. She closed her eyes, suddenly very tired and slipped into darkness.