Post by Amara Genyses on Jun 5, 2007 18:45:42 GMT -5
Sorry its so long...my chapters are really long ^^
Chapter One
Curse of Skia
Sounds of silence echoed down the illuminated street. The midnight moon was high overhead, right and full. It cast its silver shadows down on shingled rooftops.
The houses all appeared to be silent. No hint of golden glow shimmered through closed curtains. All their occupants seemed to be sleeping through the harmless night, save for the faint blue glow of a television screen. Very few night owls remained awake as the night began fading into early morning.
A light flickered on halfway down the street, and the gentle notes of piano music drifted down the lane, reaching a stranger’s ears.
A dark figure stood motionless in the shadows, calmly waiting for the perfect moment to arise. Dressed in all black the stranger would remain unseen by all, even if they searched for him. A black cape gently cascaded down broad shoulders to rest mere inches above the ground, a hood covered the face. Black-gloved hands rested on the handle of a long, broad sword, keeping it from tapping against his leg as he took a slow, measured step forward.
Surprisingly, defying all scientific explanations, the combat boots the man wore made no sound on the fallen leaves.
A soft, caressing breeze began to weave its way through rustling leaves. It broke the prolonged silence, sending leaves dancing through the night air to land helplessly on the ground.
The man tightened his grip on the sword as he approached the newly lighted house, pausing before the open window.
“No need to knock on the door tonight.” He whispered in an evil hiss before sliding between the two frames. In a split second, he was out of sight from every possible on looking eye.
The music abruptly stopped with a surprised cry. “Zak, what are you doing here?” A young man voiced.
“Taking back what you have stolen.” The cool voice replied. The sound of metal scraping against leather reached the boy’s ears as the dark figure drew his sword.
The young boy was seated at the piano bench, staring up at the looming man. “What are you talking about?”
The figure chuckled softly. “You stole my life, didn’t you? The parents aren’t here to protect you now.” He stepped forward.
The boy jumped up and backed towards the wall. “I didn’t steal your life! You gave it up. You left. You’re the one who turned goth after they adopted me.”
Zak laughed calmly, lifting the sword. “You turned them against me, Brett.” He said the name with venom dripping off its single syllable. “With your beautifully crafted lies that turned me into pure evil, and you into an angel.”
“Zak, you are evil. You tried to kill them.” Brett backed farther away as Zak stepped forward.
“Well, Brett, I was born this way.” Zak pushed the hood back. Red eyes gleamed brightly in the harsh light. Jet black hair with red streaks fell across his forehead. “I didn’t ask to be what I am.”
Brett gasped as the red eyes locked their gaze onto his eyes. He found that he was unable to move. “Don’t! Get out of my head!”
Zak smiled. “I can’t.” He stepped forward and raised the sword until it hovered just beside Brett’s neck.
Brett swallowed nervously. “Don’t control me like you did them.” His voice was shaky. “Don’t make me kill myself like you did them.”
Zak blinked, releasing the hold he had had seconds before. “I wouldn’t have the pleasure of killing you then.”
Brett jumped sideways, away from the point of the sword. He made a dash for the open door, but a sharp pain in his leg caused him to fall. He twisted to look at his leg. The sword Zak had been holding was now through his leg and into the floor, rendering him unable to move. You forget I can move things with my mind too. The voice echoed in his head.
“A psychenetic such as I can manipulate people and things. I am unstoppable.”
Brett whimpered, the pain in his leg unbearable. “Please, Zak. Don’t kill me. I’ll get them to let you back. I’ll leave! Anything!”
The sword lifted from Brett’s leg and floated through the air into Zak’s accepting hand.
Brett sat up, leaning back on his elbows. “Thank you, thank you Zak.”
Zak moved forward and shoved the sword through Brett’s stomach. “There’s no need, dearest brother. You won’t need to speak to them.”
Brett gasped, unable to scream. A look of confusion showed itself in his green eyes. “You didn’t.” He breathed, feeling his life ebbing away.
“Yes, they are dead too, but don’t worry. You’ll be seeing them soon.” Zak pulled out the sword and cut quickly into the flesh of Brett’s neck, blood staining the wood floor. “Now you’ve felt the pain you caused me.”
Brett fell with an agonized look of pain on his face, a gargling sound coming from his severed throat.
Zak probed the mind, and finding all activity no longer existing, smiled. “Now we’re even.” He wiped the blade on his cloak and sheathed it, staring at the body the entire time.
With one final smile of satisfaction, Zak left the same way he had arrived.
“Oh, my dear psychenetic. What have we done this night?” A voice whispered on the breeze.
Zak froze. “Skia.”
“Yes, dearest Zak. You have slain two innocents in your quest for revenge. You’ve ended three lives for a reason you can’t justify.”
Zak began walking down the road briskly. “Leave me alone. You know nothing of what I have done.” He hissed.
“I’ve kept my eyes on you for days. Your psychenetic abilities, you controlling people’s minds, is a beacon to me. I can track every move you make because you are careless.”
Zak turned down the street, lifting the hood to shadow his face. “What I do is none of your business.”
The voice laughed, and a strong wind pushed Zak backward. “That is where you are wrong. Every person that dies sends their souls out for revenge. It is my responsibility to keep those souls from becoming demons and carrying out their tasks.”
Zak pressed on forward, leaning into the wind. “And there are still demons around.” He shouted. “And still, what does that have to do with me?” The wind abruptly stopped and Zak fell forward on the pavement.
“There are still demons around because of people like you who kill innocents because they anger you.” The voice spoke angrily. “There is a price for killing innocents, and you have slain two.”
“Three.” Zak muttered to himself.
“Brett was not innocent, though he did not deserve to die.”
Zak stood and crossed the street into the woods. “So…what is my punishment?”
“A curse will be placed upon you, dearest Zak. Not by me, but by another whom you will meet soon. You will no longer be a psychenetic until your soul proves to no longer be black. If ever a person begs for your help, you will have to help in any way you see fit. If you do not, great harm will meet you. Good luck.”
Zak froze. “Why take away my birth gift?” He shouted.
“Because you’ve given in to evil nature, and this can’t be accepted. It was not meant to be.”
Zak’s breathing quickened with anger. “You can’t do that.” He said, but knew she could.
“You made the choice after knowing the rules. I’ll be leaving you now, other business has to be attended to.”
“No! Don’t take my power!” Zak screamed, but no answer replied on the wind. Frustration grew, but he started walking again, approaching a wooden cabin nestled deep in the woods.
Something moved in the woods to his right, given away by the simple snap of a twig and quiet crunch of freshly fallen leaves.
Zak drew his sword and braced himself for whatever it was. He thought back to Skia’s voice on the wind. She had said something about a person coming soon to curse him. “Not if I can help it.” He whispered.
A man stepped from behind a tree wielding no weapon, with a smile on his lips.
Zak’s brows knitted together in a thin line. His jaw dropped, a confused look passing across his features. He lowered the blade and stood to his full height. “Why are you out stalking in the middle of the night?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” The man stepped slowly forward, seeming to glide along the ground rather than walk. “The sweet smell of blood is drifting on the breeze. It beckons me to it like a lover. It draws me to it with a warm embrace, expecting me, caressing me. It calls to me, the voice low and beautiful. It’s coming from you.” The man was getting closer to Zak, his figure seeming to mesmerize him.
Zak’s features softened. “You carry no weapon.” He pointed out, raising his sword for emphasis as well as a warning.
“I need none.” As Zak watched, the man’s canines extended past his bottom lip. The man breathed in hungrily. “You reek of fresh blood.”
Zak made eye contact with the vampire and held it, forcing his way into his mind without much effort. “Leave this place.”
“No!” The man shouted. He fought the bond and finally threw it off with a tremendous effort. He closed his eyes for a split second to regain his bearings.
Zak screamed in pain and staggered backwards, free hand grasping his forehead. It was very unusual for someone to be able to break away from Zak’s connection. He hadn’t been expecting it, and everything had rushed back to him, making his eyes water with pain.
“Wonderful effort.” The vampire hissed. “But you are still too weak to take over my mind and control me.” The man was so close to Zak, he could have reached out and touched him.
Zak straightened, red eyes blazing like fames of anger. “Get away from me.” He said through clenched teeth. He raised the sword and made to split open the vampire’s soft stomach.
The man caught Zak’s wrist and wrenched the sword away from Zak’s grasp. He was calm, the wicked fanged smile always in its place.
Zak gasped and tried to pull away, but the vampire’s grip was to firm.
“Nice try.” The vampire hissed, pulling Zak closer.
Zak put all efforts and energy into getting away, but to no benefit. He could feel the warmth of the vampire’s breath on his face, and the stench of stale blood filled his nostrils, making him gag. He slammed his fist into the man’s stomach.
The vampire merely grunted. He grabbed Zak’s arms, pinning them behind his back with one hand.
Zak brought his knee up with great force, a cheap shot below the belt, but he was desperate.
The man screamed and pushed Zak into a tree.
Zak screamed as his back slammed into the rough bark of a tree, his breath lost. He groaned, pain racing up and down his spine.
“Desperate move. You will still suffer.” The man wrapped his fingers in Zak’s hair and forced his head to the side.
Zak’s breath quickened. “No.” He whispered.
The man lowered his face to Zak’s neck.
Zak felt the warm breath on his skin and whimpered quietly. So this was to be his punishment…his curse.
The vampire opened his mouth and placed the tips of the two fangs onto the soft flesh of Zak’s neck, taunting him. Then he bit down hard, fangs going deep.
Zak screamed. He could feel the man drinking the blood from the wounds, the dagger-like fangs still in his neck.
The vampire lifted his face, the fangs disappearing. He began drinking the blood from Zak’s neck, the wounds still bleeding heavily.
Zak was disgusted as the vampire sucked on the wounds, coaxing the blood to leave his body. He closed his eyes tightly against the pain, trying to hold back a scream.
The man greedily drank the crimson blood, a trickle running down his chin.
Zak felt the color draining from his face. His legs felt like jelly, and they collapsed under him. His eyes rolled back in his head, breath coming in short gasps. The only thing keeping him standing was the vampire’s firm grip on Zak’s chest, pushing him hard against the tree.
The man loosened his grip, Zak’s body sliding to the ground in a lifeless heap. He had fallen into an unconscious state, his chest barely rising and falling, the only evidence that life still inhabited his soul.
“Wonderful, beautiful, life-giving blood.” The vampire said, bending down to stare at Zak. He pulled a dagger from a concealed sheath. “Now to hide the evidence.” He pressed the jagged edge of the blade against Zak’s throat.
“Silver Krater, it is time.” A female voice whispered.
The vampire’s eyes widened. “This psychenetic, crimson-eyed, weakling?” He hissed with disgust. “Not this one, surely.”
“Your debt will be repaid. Prophecy must be fulfilled. Disobey my orders, and your future will be grim.”
Silver’s eyes narrowed to slits. “As you wish…but this boy is so young. Whatever task you have set before him will destroy what little life remains in his fragile human body. He will not last long in his predestined position. Are you sure your choice is correct?”
A strong wind arose. “Do not question my authority. You may be wise, but never forget that it was I who made it so. I have a plan for this one, and if you will not take the privilege of fulfilling the prophecies written long before your time, I will find another one more worthy of your birth-gift, and your soul will become a demonic creature over which you have no control.” The voice threatened, rising in pitch with the intensity of the wind. “Have I made myself clear, you ungrateful vampire?”
Silver bowed his head in shame. “As you wish.” He repeated. “Great dancer, forgive me.”
The wind died down, all things quiet.
Silver lifted the dagger from Zak’s throat and placed it against his own wrist. He slid the edge across the skin, dark blood bubbling to the surface. He gasped in surprise, the pain intense. “Precious blood, willingly sacrificed, yet forced as well.” He turned his bleeding wrist upside down over Zak’s face, the crimson lifeblood dripping steadily into his open mouth.
“The deed is accomplished!” He screamed to the empty forest. His voice echoed back to him. The wound healed and he stood. “It has been accomplished, though what good it has done cannot be told until future dates unknown.” He sighed. “What evil have I created? Whom have I condemned?” He cried, before disappearing with the shadows as morning arrived on the shining rays of the rising sun.
Chapter One
Curse of Skia
Sounds of silence echoed down the illuminated street. The midnight moon was high overhead, right and full. It cast its silver shadows down on shingled rooftops.
The houses all appeared to be silent. No hint of golden glow shimmered through closed curtains. All their occupants seemed to be sleeping through the harmless night, save for the faint blue glow of a television screen. Very few night owls remained awake as the night began fading into early morning.
A light flickered on halfway down the street, and the gentle notes of piano music drifted down the lane, reaching a stranger’s ears.
A dark figure stood motionless in the shadows, calmly waiting for the perfect moment to arise. Dressed in all black the stranger would remain unseen by all, even if they searched for him. A black cape gently cascaded down broad shoulders to rest mere inches above the ground, a hood covered the face. Black-gloved hands rested on the handle of a long, broad sword, keeping it from tapping against his leg as he took a slow, measured step forward.
Surprisingly, defying all scientific explanations, the combat boots the man wore made no sound on the fallen leaves.
A soft, caressing breeze began to weave its way through rustling leaves. It broke the prolonged silence, sending leaves dancing through the night air to land helplessly on the ground.
The man tightened his grip on the sword as he approached the newly lighted house, pausing before the open window.
“No need to knock on the door tonight.” He whispered in an evil hiss before sliding between the two frames. In a split second, he was out of sight from every possible on looking eye.
The music abruptly stopped with a surprised cry. “Zak, what are you doing here?” A young man voiced.
“Taking back what you have stolen.” The cool voice replied. The sound of metal scraping against leather reached the boy’s ears as the dark figure drew his sword.
The young boy was seated at the piano bench, staring up at the looming man. “What are you talking about?”
The figure chuckled softly. “You stole my life, didn’t you? The parents aren’t here to protect you now.” He stepped forward.
The boy jumped up and backed towards the wall. “I didn’t steal your life! You gave it up. You left. You’re the one who turned goth after they adopted me.”
Zak laughed calmly, lifting the sword. “You turned them against me, Brett.” He said the name with venom dripping off its single syllable. “With your beautifully crafted lies that turned me into pure evil, and you into an angel.”
“Zak, you are evil. You tried to kill them.” Brett backed farther away as Zak stepped forward.
“Well, Brett, I was born this way.” Zak pushed the hood back. Red eyes gleamed brightly in the harsh light. Jet black hair with red streaks fell across his forehead. “I didn’t ask to be what I am.”
Brett gasped as the red eyes locked their gaze onto his eyes. He found that he was unable to move. “Don’t! Get out of my head!”
Zak smiled. “I can’t.” He stepped forward and raised the sword until it hovered just beside Brett’s neck.
Brett swallowed nervously. “Don’t control me like you did them.” His voice was shaky. “Don’t make me kill myself like you did them.”
Zak blinked, releasing the hold he had had seconds before. “I wouldn’t have the pleasure of killing you then.”
Brett jumped sideways, away from the point of the sword. He made a dash for the open door, but a sharp pain in his leg caused him to fall. He twisted to look at his leg. The sword Zak had been holding was now through his leg and into the floor, rendering him unable to move. You forget I can move things with my mind too. The voice echoed in his head.
“A psychenetic such as I can manipulate people and things. I am unstoppable.”
Brett whimpered, the pain in his leg unbearable. “Please, Zak. Don’t kill me. I’ll get them to let you back. I’ll leave! Anything!”
The sword lifted from Brett’s leg and floated through the air into Zak’s accepting hand.
Brett sat up, leaning back on his elbows. “Thank you, thank you Zak.”
Zak moved forward and shoved the sword through Brett’s stomach. “There’s no need, dearest brother. You won’t need to speak to them.”
Brett gasped, unable to scream. A look of confusion showed itself in his green eyes. “You didn’t.” He breathed, feeling his life ebbing away.
“Yes, they are dead too, but don’t worry. You’ll be seeing them soon.” Zak pulled out the sword and cut quickly into the flesh of Brett’s neck, blood staining the wood floor. “Now you’ve felt the pain you caused me.”
Brett fell with an agonized look of pain on his face, a gargling sound coming from his severed throat.
Zak probed the mind, and finding all activity no longer existing, smiled. “Now we’re even.” He wiped the blade on his cloak and sheathed it, staring at the body the entire time.
With one final smile of satisfaction, Zak left the same way he had arrived.
“Oh, my dear psychenetic. What have we done this night?” A voice whispered on the breeze.
Zak froze. “Skia.”
“Yes, dearest Zak. You have slain two innocents in your quest for revenge. You’ve ended three lives for a reason you can’t justify.”
Zak began walking down the road briskly. “Leave me alone. You know nothing of what I have done.” He hissed.
“I’ve kept my eyes on you for days. Your psychenetic abilities, you controlling people’s minds, is a beacon to me. I can track every move you make because you are careless.”
Zak turned down the street, lifting the hood to shadow his face. “What I do is none of your business.”
The voice laughed, and a strong wind pushed Zak backward. “That is where you are wrong. Every person that dies sends their souls out for revenge. It is my responsibility to keep those souls from becoming demons and carrying out their tasks.”
Zak pressed on forward, leaning into the wind. “And there are still demons around.” He shouted. “And still, what does that have to do with me?” The wind abruptly stopped and Zak fell forward on the pavement.
“There are still demons around because of people like you who kill innocents because they anger you.” The voice spoke angrily. “There is a price for killing innocents, and you have slain two.”
“Three.” Zak muttered to himself.
“Brett was not innocent, though he did not deserve to die.”
Zak stood and crossed the street into the woods. “So…what is my punishment?”
“A curse will be placed upon you, dearest Zak. Not by me, but by another whom you will meet soon. You will no longer be a psychenetic until your soul proves to no longer be black. If ever a person begs for your help, you will have to help in any way you see fit. If you do not, great harm will meet you. Good luck.”
Zak froze. “Why take away my birth gift?” He shouted.
“Because you’ve given in to evil nature, and this can’t be accepted. It was not meant to be.”
Zak’s breathing quickened with anger. “You can’t do that.” He said, but knew she could.
“You made the choice after knowing the rules. I’ll be leaving you now, other business has to be attended to.”
“No! Don’t take my power!” Zak screamed, but no answer replied on the wind. Frustration grew, but he started walking again, approaching a wooden cabin nestled deep in the woods.
Something moved in the woods to his right, given away by the simple snap of a twig and quiet crunch of freshly fallen leaves.
Zak drew his sword and braced himself for whatever it was. He thought back to Skia’s voice on the wind. She had said something about a person coming soon to curse him. “Not if I can help it.” He whispered.
A man stepped from behind a tree wielding no weapon, with a smile on his lips.
Zak’s brows knitted together in a thin line. His jaw dropped, a confused look passing across his features. He lowered the blade and stood to his full height. “Why are you out stalking in the middle of the night?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” The man stepped slowly forward, seeming to glide along the ground rather than walk. “The sweet smell of blood is drifting on the breeze. It beckons me to it like a lover. It draws me to it with a warm embrace, expecting me, caressing me. It calls to me, the voice low and beautiful. It’s coming from you.” The man was getting closer to Zak, his figure seeming to mesmerize him.
Zak’s features softened. “You carry no weapon.” He pointed out, raising his sword for emphasis as well as a warning.
“I need none.” As Zak watched, the man’s canines extended past his bottom lip. The man breathed in hungrily. “You reek of fresh blood.”
Zak made eye contact with the vampire and held it, forcing his way into his mind without much effort. “Leave this place.”
“No!” The man shouted. He fought the bond and finally threw it off with a tremendous effort. He closed his eyes for a split second to regain his bearings.
Zak screamed in pain and staggered backwards, free hand grasping his forehead. It was very unusual for someone to be able to break away from Zak’s connection. He hadn’t been expecting it, and everything had rushed back to him, making his eyes water with pain.
“Wonderful effort.” The vampire hissed. “But you are still too weak to take over my mind and control me.” The man was so close to Zak, he could have reached out and touched him.
Zak straightened, red eyes blazing like fames of anger. “Get away from me.” He said through clenched teeth. He raised the sword and made to split open the vampire’s soft stomach.
The man caught Zak’s wrist and wrenched the sword away from Zak’s grasp. He was calm, the wicked fanged smile always in its place.
Zak gasped and tried to pull away, but the vampire’s grip was to firm.
“Nice try.” The vampire hissed, pulling Zak closer.
Zak put all efforts and energy into getting away, but to no benefit. He could feel the warmth of the vampire’s breath on his face, and the stench of stale blood filled his nostrils, making him gag. He slammed his fist into the man’s stomach.
The vampire merely grunted. He grabbed Zak’s arms, pinning them behind his back with one hand.
Zak brought his knee up with great force, a cheap shot below the belt, but he was desperate.
The man screamed and pushed Zak into a tree.
Zak screamed as his back slammed into the rough bark of a tree, his breath lost. He groaned, pain racing up and down his spine.
“Desperate move. You will still suffer.” The man wrapped his fingers in Zak’s hair and forced his head to the side.
Zak’s breath quickened. “No.” He whispered.
The man lowered his face to Zak’s neck.
Zak felt the warm breath on his skin and whimpered quietly. So this was to be his punishment…his curse.
The vampire opened his mouth and placed the tips of the two fangs onto the soft flesh of Zak’s neck, taunting him. Then he bit down hard, fangs going deep.
Zak screamed. He could feel the man drinking the blood from the wounds, the dagger-like fangs still in his neck.
The vampire lifted his face, the fangs disappearing. He began drinking the blood from Zak’s neck, the wounds still bleeding heavily.
Zak was disgusted as the vampire sucked on the wounds, coaxing the blood to leave his body. He closed his eyes tightly against the pain, trying to hold back a scream.
The man greedily drank the crimson blood, a trickle running down his chin.
Zak felt the color draining from his face. His legs felt like jelly, and they collapsed under him. His eyes rolled back in his head, breath coming in short gasps. The only thing keeping him standing was the vampire’s firm grip on Zak’s chest, pushing him hard against the tree.
The man loosened his grip, Zak’s body sliding to the ground in a lifeless heap. He had fallen into an unconscious state, his chest barely rising and falling, the only evidence that life still inhabited his soul.
“Wonderful, beautiful, life-giving blood.” The vampire said, bending down to stare at Zak. He pulled a dagger from a concealed sheath. “Now to hide the evidence.” He pressed the jagged edge of the blade against Zak’s throat.
“Silver Krater, it is time.” A female voice whispered.
The vampire’s eyes widened. “This psychenetic, crimson-eyed, weakling?” He hissed with disgust. “Not this one, surely.”
“Your debt will be repaid. Prophecy must be fulfilled. Disobey my orders, and your future will be grim.”
Silver’s eyes narrowed to slits. “As you wish…but this boy is so young. Whatever task you have set before him will destroy what little life remains in his fragile human body. He will not last long in his predestined position. Are you sure your choice is correct?”
A strong wind arose. “Do not question my authority. You may be wise, but never forget that it was I who made it so. I have a plan for this one, and if you will not take the privilege of fulfilling the prophecies written long before your time, I will find another one more worthy of your birth-gift, and your soul will become a demonic creature over which you have no control.” The voice threatened, rising in pitch with the intensity of the wind. “Have I made myself clear, you ungrateful vampire?”
Silver bowed his head in shame. “As you wish.” He repeated. “Great dancer, forgive me.”
The wind died down, all things quiet.
Silver lifted the dagger from Zak’s throat and placed it against his own wrist. He slid the edge across the skin, dark blood bubbling to the surface. He gasped in surprise, the pain intense. “Precious blood, willingly sacrificed, yet forced as well.” He turned his bleeding wrist upside down over Zak’s face, the crimson lifeblood dripping steadily into his open mouth.
“The deed is accomplished!” He screamed to the empty forest. His voice echoed back to him. The wound healed and he stood. “It has been accomplished, though what good it has done cannot be told until future dates unknown.” He sighed. “What evil have I created? Whom have I condemned?” He cried, before disappearing with the shadows as morning arrived on the shining rays of the rising sun.