I'm working on this story and I was just wondering if its any good so...here it is,
'Circle them, circle them, watch you back, wait for an opening, then strike, always heep on guard of your opponents presence.' Vasillii's wise words trail through my mind like her unique golden bronze hair brushing the floor. Vasillii is my fighting mentor also any one elses that is...if they're a vampire and live in this small town.
Yes vampires do exist only they're not alone. With Werewolves, Witches and Warlocks.
There is a ver fine line that seperates Warlocks and Witches and they despise it. The only difference is, Warlocks use dark magic, while Witches use natural magic that comes from the elements.
The other reason they hate it is because they're at war, I don't know why. So thats making Vampires and Werewolves sounding all, "High and Mighty", but really we're worse than them, much worse. We're the ones that started the war.
I was only bitten three months ago. And I still remember it vividly.
I was walking around 7th avenue, that was where all the hookers and hobo's pass by, well at least I think so, I mean I was one. Not a hooker, a hobo, so the truth was, I was homeless, and thats when it all started. Or ended whatever prespective.
He strolled up to me like he owned the world and because his hair was swept in a way to hide his eyes, I didn't know that they were bright red. His hair was black and longish, he kept it about shoulder length and its color was as if it has a dusted layer of ash on it, making it seem and grayish-brownish-black.
I couldn't see much of his face, only half of it, but it was nice, chisled features, a straight nose, and mouth shaped in a care free way that'd make any girl at my old school swoon, just for a damn smile.
I looked up at him and stared boredly. he didn't seem like the type to give money.
"If you don't mind, but can ya move?" I asked in a shrill irritated tone. But even so, every part of me was anxious to get away. I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.
He didn't move, he just stood there, and put his hand in my shopping cart, pulled out a box of soda crackers, half eaten and studied it before hucking it across the street.
"Hey thats mine!" I yelled as they exploded in small piecies and crumb on a fadded green box. That would have taken a lot of force.
He smirked at me with one side of his mouth-what an asshole-and placed his hands on the handle of the cart then shoved it down the hill as most of its contents flew out while the cart tumbled to its doom.
"I-" I gasped while my hands made useless motions, I wheeled back on him. "What the hell was that for?! " I shouted at him, outraged. I was too angry to hold it in. I wanted to slap him so much!
He just smiled.
"You have some nerve! Can you say anything or are you just a...ugh!" I couldn't think of a nasty enough of a word to call him."
"Yes I can talk." he said in an incredibly heartbreaking voice. Too bad for him it had very little effect on me. "How long have you been on the streets?" he questioned.
I wavered in my confidence, looked down at my dirt and grime imbeded coat sleeve and answered without a glance at him. "Two months." I said, I knew, just somehow if I argued or didn't answer he'd hurt me, and I couldn't afford it at my state at the time being.
"Hmm," he inquiered. "Whats your name?"
Now that question I really didn't want to answer, it was too personal, it was one of the very few things I owned. So I stayed silent, which was a stupid idea. Ten seconds passed before he got pissed.
He grabed my wrist faster than my mind could comprehend what he was doing, and much less before I could even imagine the conclusion.
His hair strayed away from his eyes and I could see them now. Everything froze.
Those eyes were slightly tilted and ruby red, no blood red, and they were ravenous. My brain was chaos, the clearest thing in my mind was; He's the hunter, and I'm the prey.
Abruptly my world turned upside down and fear raced through my veins, hot white and terrifying. A cold sweat beaded on my forehead and neck. My chest heaved with every panicked breath and my pupils dialated in fear.
"Now, whats you name?" he demanded.
I swallowed convulsively "W-Wynter." my voice wavered.
"Wynter...?" he made a rolling motion as if to continue.
"Wynter Pierce."
He nodded "And your age?"
"Seventeen." I answered nervously. Every cell in my body was demanding escape.
"Perfect" he smiled while something white and curved peeked from his lower lip.
All I remember was screaming from agony, and then blacking out. I came to a couple times and the pain was immense each time.
When I woke I was a vampire, and alone. I blink back into reality ju
'Circle them, circle them, watch you back, wait for an opening, then strike, always heep on guard of your opponents presence.' Vasillii's wise words trail through my mind like her unique golden bronze hair brushing the floor. Vasillii is my fighting mentor also any one elses that is...if they're a vampire and live in this small town.
Yes vampires do exist only they're not alone. With Werewolves, Witches and Warlocks.
There is a ver fine line that seperates Warlocks and Witches and they despise it. The only difference is, Warlocks use dark magic, while Witches use natural magic that comes from the elements.
The other reason they hate it is because they're at war, I don't know why. So thats making Vampires and Werewolves sounding all, "High and Mighty", but really we're worse than them, much worse. We're the ones that started the war.
I was only bitten three months ago. And I still remember it vividly.
I was walking around 7th avenue, that was where all the hookers and hobo's pass by, well at least I think so, I mean I was one. Not a hooker, a hobo, so the truth was, I was homeless, and thats when it all started. Or ended whatever prespective.
He strolled up to me like he owned the world and because his hair was swept in a way to hide his eyes, I didn't know that they were bright red. His hair was black and longish, he kept it about shoulder length and its color was as if it has a dusted layer of ash on it, making it seem and grayish-brownish-black.
I couldn't see much of his face, only half of it, but it was nice, chisled features, a straight nose, and mouth shaped in a care free way that'd make any girl at my old school swoon, just for a damn smile.
I looked up at him and stared boredly. he didn't seem like the type to give money.
"If you don't mind, but can ya move?" I asked in a shrill irritated tone. But even so, every part of me was anxious to get away. I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.
He didn't move, he just stood there, and put his hand in my shopping cart, pulled out a box of soda crackers, half eaten and studied it before hucking it across the street.
"Hey thats mine!" I yelled as they exploded in small piecies and crumb on a fadded green box. That would have taken a lot of force.
He smirked at me with one side of his mouth-what an asshole-and placed his hands on the handle of the cart then shoved it down the hill as most of its contents flew out while the cart tumbled to its doom.
"I-" I gasped while my hands made useless motions, I wheeled back on him. "What the hell was that for?! " I shouted at him, outraged. I was too angry to hold it in. I wanted to slap him so much!
He just smiled.
"You have some nerve! Can you say anything or are you just a...ugh!" I couldn't think of a nasty enough of a word to call him."
"Yes I can talk." he said in an incredibly heartbreaking voice. Too bad for him it had very little effect on me. "How long have you been on the streets?" he questioned.
I wavered in my confidence, looked down at my dirt and grime imbeded coat sleeve and answered without a glance at him. "Two months." I said, I knew, just somehow if I argued or didn't answer he'd hurt me, and I couldn't afford it at my state at the time being.
"Hmm," he inquiered. "Whats your name?"
Now that question I really didn't want to answer, it was too personal, it was one of the very few things I owned. So I stayed silent, which was a stupid idea. Ten seconds passed before he got pissed.
He grabed my wrist faster than my mind could comprehend what he was doing, and much less before I could even imagine the conclusion.
His hair strayed away from his eyes and I could see them now. Everything froze.
Those eyes were slightly tilted and ruby red, no blood red, and they were ravenous. My brain was chaos, the clearest thing in my mind was; He's the hunter, and I'm the prey.
Abruptly my world turned upside down and fear raced through my veins, hot white and terrifying. A cold sweat beaded on my forehead and neck. My chest heaved with every panicked breath and my pupils dialated in fear.
"Now, whats you name?" he demanded.
I swallowed convulsively "W-Wynter." my voice wavered.
"Wynter...?" he made a rolling motion as if to continue.
"Wynter Pierce."
He nodded "And your age?"
"Seventeen." I answered nervously. Every cell in my body was demanding escape.
"Perfect" he smiled while something white and curved peeked from his lower lip.
All I remember was screaming from agony, and then blacking out. I came to a couple times and the pain was immense each time.
When I woke I was a vampire, and alone. I blink back into reality ju