Written on 28 Nov : 21:42
Now Playing: Wake up Hate - Korn
Heavy, the only way to
describe the feeling of the air tonight is heavy. A fog, seemingly with the
weight of heavy fabric, covered the city. The curtain was actually more water
than vapor however suspended in the air, clinging to any surface it comes in
contact with. The moon appeared as a multi ringed apparition, distorted through
the heavy curtain it seemed as though it was constructed with layers and
crowned with many succinct halos. Quite beautiful when considered, it appears
to radiate, to pulse far in the distance. At times he feels like it is a heartbeat,
the heartbeat of the embraced as well as the damned. It provides a rhythmic
beat that drives forward powering their unnatural existence towards some
unknown destiny.
Although he knows it is an illusion he is transfixed by the dancing of the aura and the glint of the halo. In the distance he can feel tension, uneasiness, a hint of fear approaching him…..but far upwind. His senses are keen and sharper than a razor’s edge, not relying on sense as humans know; he feels the life force of the object, the very essence of its being. As if a shark drawn to blood, only a minuscule sample of the essence is required to garner his attention, saying that he is attuned to the force is an understatement; he is not attuned as much as he can be perceived as being a part of it. As it draws near the feeling grows stronger and is continually amplified by the rhythmic pulsing of life blood through the victim’s veins. He can tell the rhythm of the beat, can feel the ebb and flow as well as almost indiscriminate rhythmic changes that occur due to the level of stress the victim is feeling. He can almost see the volume of liquid as it moves along predefined travel routes, along the circulatory map taking its precious cargo of energy to its destination then beginning the trip anew. He knows that if he was not hidden he could see the glow of the blood, the life force is coming his direction. He can also feel the quickening within the veins and the increase in the flow, the victim knows something is wrong, something is very, very wrong.
Every step is faster as the tension can be felt in the air; it is almost electric, charged particles streaming from contact to contact. All the while he can also feel the hunger rising, growing ever stronger anticipation being replaced by lust. He has felt the scenario played out many times before. He begins to know the thoughts of the prey, “she knew better than to go to the fraternity house with Gina. I always get stuck having to find my way back home. Scared to death I will never forgive her for making me walk back to the house.”
As a sense of dread begins to permeate the minds of both hunter and prey, he moves. Although her pace has quickened, she begins to gain speed almost exponentially, beginning to break out into a run. He moves silent as the dark as though he is slipping in and out of different dimensional spaces, the anticipation he felt has been totally replaced by lust, by need, by drive. As the fear and lust come closer together in the dimly moonlit theater of mist, what can only be described as pure energy begins to enshroud the air, making hairs stand on end and making the skin feel as if it crawls with vermin. As they approach the crescendo, he reaches out his hand and grasps the neck of the vampire, a split second before it had the woman within it’s grasp.
Leo, his name was Leo, yes he remembers the boy, now he is just an empty vessel devoid of mind and emotion, an unfortunate offing of a turning gone bad. Leo begins to struggle swiping at the arm holding him feeling as tight as a vice around his neck, although his flailing does little to neither lessen the grip nor deter the hunter. Haenous turns to the woman who stands staring in terror and screams at her to “RUN”, wanting her to be to terrified to remember details
As the victim, she is lucky to be able to see the morning sun once again, flees he turns his attentions back to Leo asking, “Why are you on closed ground? You know the edict, the University campus is off line, no hunting may occur here, speak the truth to me wretched one. Why do you hunt here?” No reply was forthcoming from the young one, only malformed words strewn with hisses and continued impotent flailing. “Speak now as it will be your only opportunity.” Yet no explanation comes.
In his mind Haenous knows the answers, he knows the reasonings. There is food here, food a plenty and easily taken. Even in small groups food on these grounds is no match for an immortal, he also knows that the house has gotten careless, Leo is but one example of many, too many of late, too many half hearted turnings resultant in empty headed vessels driven only by hunger and lust. When words issue forth from Leo’s mouth, it takes but a fraction of an instant for Haenous to break the neck of the vampire with a simple twitch of his wrist. Although the vampire feels little pain, he knows what is beginning to transpire, temporarily devoid of body control now that the spinal cord has been severed he knows that his body will not have time to mend prior to Haenous striking the final blow. With abandon Haenous turns the vampires head to one side and sinks his teeth deep, taking in the essence of the creature and draining it of existence.
As he drinks, Leo’s physical body turns to ashes. Haenous can feel the energy as it charges through his body, the power that surges within him as he feeds. Near the end his crystal blue eyes turn black, black as night, black in total not even the whites of his eyes escape the shroud. Within the space of a moment, Leo has ceased to exist, no longer is he dead nor undead, he is just gone…..
Although he knows it is an illusion he is transfixed by the dancing of the aura and the glint of the halo. In the distance he can feel tension, uneasiness, a hint of fear approaching him…..but far upwind. His senses are keen and sharper than a razor’s edge, not relying on sense as humans know; he feels the life force of the object, the very essence of its being. As if a shark drawn to blood, only a minuscule sample of the essence is required to garner his attention, saying that he is attuned to the force is an understatement; he is not attuned as much as he can be perceived as being a part of it. As it draws near the feeling grows stronger and is continually amplified by the rhythmic pulsing of life blood through the victim’s veins. He can tell the rhythm of the beat, can feel the ebb and flow as well as almost indiscriminate rhythmic changes that occur due to the level of stress the victim is feeling. He can almost see the volume of liquid as it moves along predefined travel routes, along the circulatory map taking its precious cargo of energy to its destination then beginning the trip anew. He knows that if he was not hidden he could see the glow of the blood, the life force is coming his direction. He can also feel the quickening within the veins and the increase in the flow, the victim knows something is wrong, something is very, very wrong.
Every step is faster as the tension can be felt in the air; it is almost electric, charged particles streaming from contact to contact. All the while he can also feel the hunger rising, growing ever stronger anticipation being replaced by lust. He has felt the scenario played out many times before. He begins to know the thoughts of the prey, “she knew better than to go to the fraternity house with Gina. I always get stuck having to find my way back home. Scared to death I will never forgive her for making me walk back to the house.”
As a sense of dread begins to permeate the minds of both hunter and prey, he moves. Although her pace has quickened, she begins to gain speed almost exponentially, beginning to break out into a run. He moves silent as the dark as though he is slipping in and out of different dimensional spaces, the anticipation he felt has been totally replaced by lust, by need, by drive. As the fear and lust come closer together in the dimly moonlit theater of mist, what can only be described as pure energy begins to enshroud the air, making hairs stand on end and making the skin feel as if it crawls with vermin. As they approach the crescendo, he reaches out his hand and grasps the neck of the vampire, a split second before it had the woman within it’s grasp.
Leo, his name was Leo, yes he remembers the boy, now he is just an empty vessel devoid of mind and emotion, an unfortunate offing of a turning gone bad. Leo begins to struggle swiping at the arm holding him feeling as tight as a vice around his neck, although his flailing does little to neither lessen the grip nor deter the hunter. Haenous turns to the woman who stands staring in terror and screams at her to “RUN”, wanting her to be to terrified to remember details
As the victim, she is lucky to be able to see the morning sun once again, flees he turns his attentions back to Leo asking, “Why are you on closed ground? You know the edict, the University campus is off line, no hunting may occur here, speak the truth to me wretched one. Why do you hunt here?” No reply was forthcoming from the young one, only malformed words strewn with hisses and continued impotent flailing. “Speak now as it will be your only opportunity.” Yet no explanation comes.
In his mind Haenous knows the answers, he knows the reasonings. There is food here, food a plenty and easily taken. Even in small groups food on these grounds is no match for an immortal, he also knows that the house has gotten careless, Leo is but one example of many, too many of late, too many half hearted turnings resultant in empty headed vessels driven only by hunger and lust. When words issue forth from Leo’s mouth, it takes but a fraction of an instant for Haenous to break the neck of the vampire with a simple twitch of his wrist. Although the vampire feels little pain, he knows what is beginning to transpire, temporarily devoid of body control now that the spinal cord has been severed he knows that his body will not have time to mend prior to Haenous striking the final blow. With abandon Haenous turns the vampires head to one side and sinks his teeth deep, taking in the essence of the creature and draining it of existence.
As he drinks, Leo’s physical body turns to ashes. Haenous can feel the energy as it charges through his body, the power that surges within him as he feeds. Near the end his crystal blue eyes turn black, black as night, black in total not even the whites of his eyes escape the shroud. Within the space of a moment, Leo has ceased to exist, no longer is he dead nor undead, he is just gone…..
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