FYI and Story: Vampire

so i'm going to california...tomorrow...
i'm working on a mermaid story, but it's definitely not done yet
if i do finish it while in california, if i get a chance i'll post part of it
and if i have any poems, etc, then i'll post if i get the chance

so, to keep you going for a bit (not like anyone cares), i'll post more of Vampire

Waking again, Beren still felt disconnected. His dreams had been filled with flames, but he could not recall what else. He got out of the bed tiredly, feeling as if he had not slept at all. He stepped to the washbasin and splashed the cool water on his face. He ignored the mirror, but took up a towel next to the washbasin and dried his face. Running a hand through his shaggy blonde hair and smoothing down his beard, he wondered at the time, and whether it was safe for him to walk in the forest. He stepped to the door and walked down the stairs, opening the door at the bottom. No windows opened into the hall, and he walked across the room to an ornately decorated archway. Stepping through, he trotted up a spiral staircase. At the top was the room where his parent’s portraits hung. He looked in from the staircase, then entered at seeing that the young sun had just set. His journal still sat on the table, and he paused, looking at it and thinking. Sitting, he took up a quill and opened the book to his last entry.

I assume this is the date, for I am still alive. But I cannot be sure, for something strange has happened. I was walking in the forest, when a windstorm came up, and I must have been thrown against a tree, for the next thing I knew, I was awakening at first sunrise, in the forest. I know not what happened, but I have a strange memory of flames. A dream perhaps, I do not know. He paused thoughtfully, then wrote, I need some fresh air.

He looked out the window, then grabbed his cloak from the back of a chair and donned it. He exited through the window as before, landing lightly in a crouch.

A slight breeze had picked up, pulling at the edges of his cloak. Soon, trees surrounded him on all sides, and a sense of peace stole over him. The dream that haunted his mind was temporarily forgotten, and Beren wandered the forest for more than an hour.

He came to a perfectly circular glade and saw that the sun had set. He unconsciously tuned his ears to the night sounds.

No sound came to his ears. No animals called, no breeze shook the branches. A strange sense of foreboding hit him. His dream came back to him in a flash, and he realized, It was no dream! It was real!

The great whirlwind came up, throwing Beren into a tree. He curled up, as before, protecting his head. The tempest tore by him, screaming.

It fell away suddenly, leaving complete silence. Beren recalled his previous experience, and looked up to see the woman on the rock.

Her dress, burgundy now, was simple and unadorned as before. In her hands was a flute, and she was poised to play.

“Wait.” Beren’s voice carried across the expanse between them. The woman looked up quickly, lowering the flute and watching him curiously. Beren stepped forward slowly. “Who are you?” The woman only stared at him. Her eyes were dark and her face held no fear, only curiosity. “Why are you here?” She tilted her head to one side, as if listening or thinking. “Why do you play?”

She watched him for a moment more, then raised the flute to her mouth. Pausing, she said quietly, “You were here before. I hope you liked my song.” She began to play.

Long, drawn out notes started this time, which grew in complexity and speed as the moments passed. Again, the flames arose at each note. However, unlike before, they did not spread, but stayed around the rock.

Beren watched, mind unrestrained by the song. It filled his mind, but did not capture him as before. He realized this with relief, but also, strangely, with regret.

Moments later, it seemed, though it could have been hours or even days, the song came to an end. Beren felt something release, as if time was allowed to flow normally again. The woman held still for several moments, then looked up at him. He looked right into her eyes, and suddenly couldn’t move, nor did he want to. She did not blink for some moments, but then gave a small nod.

Flames rushed at him, shining white and brilliant, and he was engulfed quickly. But he felt no fear. It seemed to him that he had been given a mark of approval from that nod, as if the woman had accepted him. The flames surrounded him, and he quickly felt exhaustion rush in. He was asleep before he hit the ground.

Story: Vampire

I've been posting a lot...
o well!
here's more of my vampire story!

Beren awoke feeling disconnected. He opened his eyes slowly to find that the cold sun was hanging at the horizon. What happened? He had a vague recollection of flames, and of hearing a song, but it seemed only a dream. Only a dream… He stood slowly, unsettled by the fact that he could remember nothing else of this dream. “Only a dream… It was only a dream…” He tried to convince himself of the fact, then pushed it to the back of his mind and focused on getting back to his castle. He looked around for a moment, then started off in an easterly direction. Keeping his mind on the current task, he tried to avoid thinking on the dream, if dream it was.

The red sun crept slowly higher in the sky, heralding the rise of the yellow sun. Beren moved quicker, hoping he had enough time before the second sunrise. He feared the young sun, having been burned once when he was young. His fear was well founded, for if he was caught in direct sunlight for too long, he would be nothing but ashes.

The castle came into sight, and Beren gave a sigh of relief. Second sunrise would not come for another half hour. Beren opened the front gate and entered a quiet courtyard. The chuckling sound of a fountain and the perfume of flowers all around calmed Beren. He closed his eyes, taking in the heady aroma and the tranquil sound. Sudden exhaustion hit him, and he desperately wanted sleep.

He opened his eyes and headed for a large black door, which opened easily. Beren stepped into a hall, dark and dusty. Several candles were lit, casting a dismal light on the walls. He stalked quickly down the hall toward the doors at the other end, kicking up layers of dust. A dark red door opened to a narrow staircase. Beren bounded up these stairs with the little energy he had left. At the top of the staircase was another door, which Beren opened and walked through.

Through this door was a dark red themed bedroom with no windows, Beren’s bedroom. A large, four-poster bed stood against the back wall, and an ornate wood desk stood opposite the bed. A mirror and washbasin stood in a corner. Few decorations graced the walls. Beren stepped to the bed and fell into it, rolled over, and fell asleep.

Story: Time Between Times

well, it's more like a mini-story
and if you don't know what the time between times is, then read, and you'll find out

The sun fell slowly towards the horizon, casting red and orange light on the ocean’s bright surface. The man stood at the edge of the cliff face, looking up at the darkening sky.

He had stood like this for hours, thinking and watching. Waiting for the appropriate time.

The sky above was almost black on one edge, and a glorious show of light and color on the other.

The man looked now to the sunset. The sun was only half revealed now. Clouds reflected its shining rays.

The ocean was calm, reflecting the darkening sky and the sunset far away amongst the confusion of its waves.

The man looked now upon the sea. He reached out his arms, as if to embrace the sky. He walked to the very edge, the toes of his bare feet curling over the edge of the rock. The cliff fell away below him, a sheer rock wall.

The man looked again at the sky, at the sea, and at the sun. Then he leaned over, and fell.

He fell, and fell. The sensation of falling slowly melted away, and he was only suspended, with air rushing by.

A wonderful freedom filled him. Adrenaline pumped in his veins. Exhilaration filled him, until he felt his heart would burst.

The sea rushed towards him, but he watched the sun. He watched as, only a sliver now, it sank further down.

The man closed his eyes, and gave himself over to the fall. He felt the wind whip past him, heard the waves crash against the cliff face, smelled the salty ocean.

He struck the water, at the very moment when the sun fell below the horizon. At the time-between-times, his soul fled from the surface of the ocean, and his body sank down, down, down forever, to the sea floor.

The time-between-times. The moment when anything can happen.

Sketchbook

no, i didn't draw her with feet. there wasn't enough room on the paper
and her head is too small or something
and i can't draw hands...
deal with it

Sketchbook

so i'm trying to draw real people
i mean people that look like people
and not just silouhettes (however that's spelt)
so today i drew a person's head

anyone who is skilled at drawing and such,
tell me if i made any stupid mistakes
and tell me what's wrong with it, cuz it seems a bit...unbalanced, or something

the ned
and end

Story: Vampire

okay, i'm feeling better now
i'll leave that poem...just cuz...
but i'll post part of my vampire story now! sheesh, it's taken me a while to get one of my not-as-short stories posted...
so anyway, i'll post it in, blocks or something. and when i write more, i'll post more
and any advice, or constructive criticism, or what not, would be quite welcome
not that anyone even reads my blog....but whatever
so, here goes...the story

The vampire stood at the window, watching the second sunset. The sun streaked the sky red as it neared the horizon. The younger sun only stayed up for a few hours each day, but those hours were the worst for the people; the heat of the sun forced most everyone indoors. But once the young sun set, its heat fled quickly from the land, forcing the people indoors again for warmth.

The aged sun would not burn the vampire as the young sun did. The weak sunlight could cause the vampire no damage, giving him free reign. He did not mind the cold; in fact, he preferred it.

Beren Anwamanë was young, or at least appeared so; in fact, he had lived two hundred years in the wasted castle he called home, and not even he remembered how long before then. He preyed on the peasants, of which there were plenty, and no one noticed if a peasant disappeared.

Turning from the window, Beren stepped to the middle of the broad room where a table stood. A massive portrait loomed over the table, portraying an intimidating man, whose glare fell on anyone in the room. Across from the first portrait hung a smaller painting, showing a beautiful woman.

“Father…Mother…” Beren said, nodding to each portrait in turn. He stepped to the table. On it rested a slim book. Beren picked it up and opened it to a ribbon marking a page. Sitting at the table, he took up a quill and, dipping it into an ink well, wrote the date on the top of the page in neat, printed letters.

Lovely sunset. The sky was blood red. I will go for a walk, but I am not hungry. No sense wasting good blood if I don’t need it.

Closing the book, he stood and stepped to the window again. The sky had not changed. He watched it for a moment, and then jumped out the window, landing agilely 50 feet below.

A pine forest bordered the castle. Beren, when not questing for food, liked to walk there. He had explored almost the entire forest since living at that castle. Strange creatures ranged that forest, which, on occasion, would come out from the depths of the dark forest and prey on the flocks of hearty sheep and goats that were raised by the people there.

Beren entered the forest, following an unseen path. He listened for the sounds of the forest, recognizing the animals as each called out. Traveling deeper, he soon felt the freedom that always came on him. He could stay in that forest for as long as he liked without being discovered. Very soon the trees grew so close together that they obscured the sky. He breathed in the cold air, feeling exhilarated.

He stepped into an open glade. Seeing the sky darkening, he tuned his ears to the nocturnal animals.

He heard nothing.

No animals were calling. Even the breeze was not rustling the branches. This was strange. The forest was never silent. If the animals were silent, they usually had a reason, but even then the wind would not be silenced. Beren stood still, trying to sense what could silence both the animals and the winds.

Suddenly a great rushing sound came to his ears, and before he had a chance to think, a wall of air hit him and knocked him over. Great winds tore at his clothes and skin. He tried to scream, but the wind tore the sound from his mouth. He was pushed into a tree, where he curled up, trying to protect himself from the insane tempest. But, just as suddenly, the winds stopped.

Beren waited for a moment, then rolled onto his side and pushed himself off the ground. He looked around the glade, to see the damage suffered. But what he saw surprised him more than any windstorm would.

It was a different glade. He stood in confusion for a moment before determining that he had no idea where he was.

The sky was just as dark, but Beren’s sharp eyes could still examine his surroundings. This glade was bigger, and perfectly circular. The surrounding trees were not pine, but aspen, and the ground was patched with white flowers. A large flat rock sat in the center of the glade, and on the rock sat a woman.

The woman, sitting tranquilly, wore a light blue unadorned dress. Her wavy black hair hung down her back and pooled around her. Her head was bowed slightly, and resting in her hands was a small harp. She was poised to play.

Beren stepped forward slowly. He had moved a small distance into the glade when the woman began to play. Beren paused, listening to music; he loved music of all sorts.

After the first note, Beren was captured by the sound. A slow, haunting melody came from the harp, drawing Beren in. His eyes were locked on the woman, whose delicate fingers plucked the harp strings with ease.

Small sparks pricked every time a note was played. Beren tried to think about this, but his mind became foggy, and he could not make his thoughts clear. Soon the sparks grew to small flames, licking at the edges of the rock. Beren stood closer to the rock, though he knew not how. He could think of nothing else except the woman and the melody. His mind was overtaken by the song. The tempo slowly increased. The flames were dancing higher, surrounding the woman on the rock.

The flames now surrounded the rock, but the woman did not burn. The flames began to spread slowly out from the rock. The song filled Beren’s mind. He heard nothing else. He saw the flames reach him and slowly surround him, but it didn’t register with his mind. He felt the flames licking at his skin, but he felt no pain. He felt nothing except the song.

The woman kept playing, her fingers flying over the harp strings now. Beren had stopped breathing, and though he did not need to breathe, he was beginning to feel faint. He swayed on his feet, unable to tear his mind from the song. The flames rushed before his eyes, confusing his mind. His eyes rolled up into his head, and he fell to the ground, surrounded by silent flames.

Poem Time: No pity

so i'm like, depressed right now
i wrote a poem...
i'll post it, but maybe when i'm feeling better, i'll delete it or something...

so if you don't wanna read my depressing poem, it's fine, i don't care

I don’t want your pity

I don’t want to be comforted

I won’t share this pain with anyone

I need it to survive

This is my pain

What I hold on to

With a vice-like grip

That you cannot break

Only when I find one

Who can understand

Who can bear these pains as I do,

Will I open up

You are not that person

At least, not yet

So leave me alone

Until you are

Don’t give me pity

It will only drive me away

Don’t comfort me

Unless you understand

For these will push me far

From what I need most

A person who can see my pain

For what it is

So go away

Until you can prove

That you are the one

Who can save me from myself

Poem Time: Torn heart

so here's a poem i wrote like today...
i'll get one of my stories up sometime
really

You haven’t said it

But I know

You say it with your movements, your hesitation

You are going to leave

I cannot stop it

No matter what I say,

No matter how I plead,

It will not bring you back

So I ask you now

As a last request

To do something

Before you leave

Please

Do not deny me

This last time

This last painful request

Please

If you have a heart at all

If you have any sort of feeling for me

Anything at all

Please

Take my heart

Take it out of

My shattered, bleeding hands

Take it,

And tear it up

Rip it to shreds

Until I feel nothing

For my heart cannot live without you

I will surely die

If I must live with the pain

Of this loss

So take my heart

Separate it from my soul

And my mind

And let me forget this love

Let me live

With this false peace

With no memory

Of what could have been

Please

Grant this pathetic request

For if you do mean to leave

Then it is the only thing you can give me now

And when you leave

Remember

That I still love you

And I will love you forever

But I will never remember

It is as it should be

Thank you