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Post by Fiona Sheperd on Jan 5, 2009 13:43:37 GMT -5
Fiona didn't look back as she drove off into the dark night away from the house that she grew up in. Anger and anxiety were boiling inside of her. Her cell phone began buzzing as it sat on the passenger seat. It was her father. Rolling down the window, she threw the phone out.
As she drove, she could only think of one place where she could do what she needed. The road curved dangerously around the mountains, but Fiona didn't slow down. It was as if someone was chasing her; perhaps it was her fear and doubt that she was running away from. She knew that this is what needed to be done.
Her car came to an abrupt halt as she pulled off to the side of the road. There before her stood the massively high, but ancient looking bridge. The haunted road called Crocker Turn lay just over and beyond that bridge. It wasn't the road she was interested in though, unlike so many other wanderers. It was the height of this bridge that she needed.
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Post by Tristan Ainsley on Jan 5, 2009 13:50:46 GMT -5
Tristan was wondering around the forest, heading towards the old bridge. It was a place he liked to go to relax and think. It was peaceful as not many people tended to come there due to its proximity to Crocker Trurn and because it was, well... creepy.
He ran at a leisurely pace (well for him, anyway) as he made his way to the bridge, wondering again how his life had changed so much over the years.
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Post by Fiona Sheperd on Jan 5, 2009 14:11:40 GMT -5
Fear and doubt eventually caught up with Fiona as she stepped out of her car. There was no was she was backing down now though. She thought of her mother for a moment, which made a few tears begin to stream down her face, which soon turned into choking sobs.
Walking onto the bridge was slow and agonizing. Everything seemed to go in slow motion as her life was replayed in her mind. As she looked back, no good things could be remembered... because there were no good things. The sound of the rushing water of the river below acted like a magnet drawing her in. Grasping the railing, she looked over the edge. Jagged rocks protruded out of the water like skewers, and the white caps of the under-toes looked intimidating, yet promising at the same time.
Fiona lifted herself over the railing, hands shaking maddeningly, and stood on the narrow ledge on the other side. A cold breeze blew fiercely through her, sending a chill down her back. Tears continued to fall as she tried to muster the will to throw herself off.
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Post by Tristan Ainsley on Jan 5, 2009 23:01:30 GMT -5
Tristan tore threw the forest, frightening more than his fair share of small animals as he did so. He sprinted lithely, easily avoiding hitting any trees as he neared the part of the woods where he knew the road would appear. The bridge would not be too far from here.
Suddenly the wind whipped through the trees and Tristan caught a new scent: a human. He could smell her blood in the air and the burning in his throat intensified. He shook his head as he ran, trying to avoid the bloodlust that was calling him towards the human.
He paused in the forest, trying to decide what to do: follow his instincts or his conscience? After 67 years, the pull was still strong and Tristan had to work very hard to avoid it at times. He bit his lip as he thought and after a quick moment decided that he would investigate first before doing anything about the human. He would take a look and see if they fit the usual profile for his victims... if not, he would turn and leave the innocent alone.
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Post by Fiona Sheperd on Jan 5, 2009 23:09:31 GMT -5
No longer would her father be able to hurt her the way that he had. No longer would she feel alone in the world. Fiona was ready for this freedom, the freedom of death. It was final and ever lasting. In death, she was safe from her father and safe from herself.
The sobs that once wracked her body subsided as a strange calmness overcame Fiona. The finality and truth of the situation was almost comforting to her. She forced a smile smile as she thought of her mother and how they would be meeting again soon. This thought seemed to chase away the last ghost of fear that lingered inside her.
As the wind swirled around her, it seemed to guide her forward as she leaned over the icy waters below. Fiona drew in once last breath as she let her hands release from the rail. The wind now whipped through her hair as she plummeted to her death, the face of her mother imprinted in her mind.
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Post by Tristan Ainsley on Jan 5, 2009 23:16:44 GMT -5
Tristan approached the edge of the forest and peered through the trees, looking for the human. At first he couldnt' see her, becuase of the trees. He moved slightly to adjust his position and caught a glimpse of her. At first she appeared merely to be standing on the bridge, looking at the water below, but Tristan soon realized that she was standing on the wrong side of the bridge. That she was going to jump.
He stared in shock for a moment, unsure of what to do. If she jumped... he could feed with out feeling guilty. But shouldn't he perhaps try to stop her?
He wasn't sure...
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Post by Fiona Sheperd on Jan 5, 2009 23:24:40 GMT -5
The water was biting cold, but that didn't compare to the pain she felt in her legs. They happened to have snapped on a rock as she fell. Her back on the other hand felt like it was twisted in two and her arms seemed to fall limp in the swirling current of the water. She thought death would come quicker than this, but instead she was faced with this agony.
Fiona was dragged under the surface, and water began to fill her lungs. She writhed in discomfort, her head spinning in vertigo from the impact of her fall into the water and from slamming it onto a near by rock. She pleaded for death as her body was whipped around and dragged down the river. Soon unconsciousness closed in on her as her entire body fell limp.
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Post by Tristan Ainsley on Jan 5, 2009 23:33:19 GMT -5
Tristan darted forward as the girl pitched herself off of the bridge. He stood, his hands rasting on the rail, and looked down at her body bobbing lifelessly in the current. He could smell the blood and the burning senstation began once again, ten times more strong this time. He began to shake as his desire for her blood overcame him.
She's already dead, he thought. It doesn't matter..
Quickly, he darted to the end of the bridge and made his way downt he hill and to the shores, where her limp body had washed up. He approached her slowly and knelt beside her, flipping her body over. Her scent was intoxicating. The venom pooled in is mouth, his desier taking over.
Tristan bent down and bit slowly, tenderly, on the pale flesh of her neck. The warm blood oozed out and into his mouth, down his throat. The burning subsided momentarily only to be replaced again by a more intense need to continue, to drain her body of everything it had. He removed his lips from her neck, licking them as he did so and hovered over her, preparing to make another bite.
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Post by Fiona Sheperd on Jan 5, 2009 23:41:12 GMT -5
Fiona thought death would be peaceful. She thought she would see white lights and clouds and all of that. Pain continued to flow through her body, and and even stronger pain erupted on her neck. Perhaps it was broken. She couldn't feel the water around her anymore, but that could be because her broken neck paralyzed her. That couldn't be right though, because she still felt pain in all of her limbs. Maybe she had already died and gone to Hell instead. It seemed that idea made the most sense at the time.
Slowly her head lobbed to the other side and her eyes faltered open slightly. A blurry picture of a man, handsome none the less, appeared in her vision. She always pictured the devil looking more sinister... until she noticed the blood dripping from his chin.
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Post by Tristan Ainsley on Jan 5, 2009 23:47:38 GMT -5
Tristan had been on the point of attacking her throat once again and drinking in the sweet taste of this girl's blood, when her head tilted to the side and her eyes fluttered open.
He stared in shock as he realized that some how, the girl was not dead. She was very very much alive. The two halves of Tristan's mind immediately began warring wtih each other. His instinctual, vampire half clammored for her blood. It demanded that he ignore the girl's beautiful brown eyes and drink in her delicously tempting blood. The emotional, human half was horrified. He had bitten and drank the blood of a perfectly innocent human being.
He had a choice to make: to finish her off and live with the guilt of her death, or to let the venom spread... and she could become a vampire.
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Post by Fiona Sheperd on Jan 5, 2009 23:53:47 GMT -5
As her vision focused, she saw the man clearer. Fiona felt that he was holding her head and neck, which were throbbing painfully along with the rest of her body. But the pain in her neck seemed to escalate and almost burn like it was on fire. She cringed her eyes in pain but then opened them again to get a better look at the man. Horror filled her as she realized that the blood on his chin was her own.
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Post by Tristan Ainsley on Jan 6, 2009 0:00:50 GMT -5
Tristan looked around frantically, trying to decide what to do. He didn't know. He didn't know.
He looked back at the girl again and was suddenly reminded of his mother. He hadn't thought of her in decades. They had the same colored eyes. He knew then that he couldn't kill her. He would let the venom spread.
"I-I..." he stuttered, trying to find the words to explain to her what was going on. "You're going to be... different, now," he said quietly. The words didn't sound right, but he wasn't sure what to say. How did you explain to some one that you killed them when they were still sort of going to be alive?
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Post by Fiona Sheperd on Jan 6, 2009 0:06:25 GMT -5
His stuttering, though smooth voice echoed in her mind as her vision began to become fuzzy again. Blackness spread over her eyes as the burning pain spread from her neck to throughout her body. Fiona twitched as the pain intensified even more and she whimpered helplessly. Soon all of her consciousness slipped from her and left her in a hazy dreamlike state, a dull ache still lingering.
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Post by Tristan Ainsley on Jan 6, 2009 0:18:47 GMT -5
Tristan watched as the girl slipped into unconciousness, the venom pulling her under. Her blood no longer called him due to the transformation it was undergoing. In a few days time, they would be the same.
He sighed, another decision on his mind: what to do with her?
He decided to let her be. He slipped a piece of paper with his name and address on it into her pocket with instructions for her to seek him out after she woke up if/when she wanted to see him... to get some answers.
Slowly he picked her up and brought her over to an area of the shore where she would be hidden from people on the road and not get pulled into the river again. He let her head rest on a pile of leaves and glanced down at her once more before turning and sprinting back into the forest.
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Post by Fiona Sheperd on Jan 6, 2009 0:53:49 GMT -5
Fiona was certain that she was in Hell. The pain never seemed to stop. She felt as if she should thrash about but couldn't move, as if she were constrained. Despair flew over her as she realized that this is where she would spend eternity... dead in Hell.
Whether it was hours, days, years, or months, slowly the pain ebbed away. Her mind and body felt weak, and still she lay confused about the events unfurling. In Hell, the pain was supposed to be ongoing and never ending. Now though she felt no pain, she even felt okay at the most.
Without opening her eyes, her hands felt around her environment. Leaves wrinkled in her grasp and dirt sifted through her fingers. A hundred new scents wafted through her nose and even the quietest noises seemed to be amplified in her ears. Finally her eyes fluttered open and she looked around. A bridge stood looming above her in the darkness which seemed to not impede her sight. It was the bridge she had jumped off of, or had she? Was she dreaming?
Slowly she stood, amazed that her legs were no longer broken. Amazingly the rest of her body felt perfectly fine as well. She dusted off her ragged clothing, a hand finding its way into her pocket where she found a folded up piece of paper. It listed a name and an address.
Fiona stared at it confused. Was she dead and this was a trick of the devil? Was she alive in some sick and twisted dream? Had she gone insane? Where was her father? Who was that strange man she saw before she died, if she did die, and where had he gone? Was he Tristan and had he left this paper for her to find?
With no other choices in her mind, she decided to go to the address determined to find Tristan Ainsley.
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