Erotic Vampire Fan-Fiction

September 26, 2012

There was a shuffling sound, her eyes opened and she looked around the dark room. She couldn’t see him, but there was a coolness in the air, she could sense him staring at her. She reached over and tapped her lamp flooding the room with light and sure enough, there he was, in the corner, head bent, eyes staring intensely at her. If she hadn’t known he was a Vampire it would have been a shocking sight to see a young man standing in the corner of your room in the middle of the night, hunched over, fangs exposed, almost looking like someone with down syndrome.
“You came.” She said, feigning surprise.
“Not yet.” He replied, smirking.
The light of the lamp sparkled in his eyes and made his skin sparkle, as if it was covered in glitter. If she hadn’t known what he was she would have thought he was a gay stripper with down syndrome.
Silently he walked towards her, mysteriously, as if gliding. He brushed her long brown hair out of her eyes.
“You are so sexy.” He said with a lisp.
She tried hard not to laugh, Vampires were known for their fury.
“So are you.”
It wasn’t a lie. Not truly. Probably because he was a Vampire his magical blood oozed with sex appeal, he probably released pheromones, like a bug… that thought repulsed her… and although he was decently ugly, and, well, kind of downy, she couldn’t help but crave to ride him, wildly, like a mechanical bull in a pub, screaming and waving her arms around.
He bent over and sniffed at her neck. It kind of tickled, but he smelt strange, like frozen semen or maybe horse radish.
“You’re making me so wet.” She said.
His fangs extended lightly pressing against her neck, the pressure hurt, but it was a good pain. The sharp tips lightly broke the skin and the Vampire ravishingly licked at the blood. It wasn’t sexy. It was like a Dog licking sloppishly.
She pushed him off and down onto the bed. She’s had enough of that. The Vampire was like any teen boy. Horny. But he had been saving himself for 400 years. She couldn’t imagine the sexual frustration, but he imagined her to be a virgin, that was what she had told him. But the truth was, she was a huge slut. She had once had the entire football team in a 24 hour period, while on her period.
She began unzipping his pants, he was now panting, like a dog.
She began kissing at the bottom of his belly, just above his crotch. Then the noises started. Whining noises, like a dog that begs you to keep scratching.
Finally she went lower, and stuck his frosty penis into her mouth.
It wasn’t like any penis she had tasted before. It wasn’t salty and warm it was cold and bland, like a home brand ice block.
She licked the tip as the Vampire roared like a Lion. Eventually fitting the entire thing into her mouth she lowered, until it went down her throat, lifting her head again, up and down she went, slowly, and building faster.
The Vampire’s body shook, like he was a giant vibrator.
Faster, faster she went. The room was filled with slopping and gagging noises.
Slowly a long thunderous sound built within the Vampire, releasing a cracking sound like lightning, and the cum erupted from the Vampire’s penis exploding out the back of the girls head.
Pieces of her brain and skull stuck to the roof, soaked with cum. The Vampire sat, wide eyed in shock as he looked at the tip of his penis still oozing cum over the back of the girls head, mixing with the blood. It only made him more hard.
Suddenly the young girls Ghost appeared looking down over her body and exploded head. A piece of brain and cum dripping from the ceiling falling right through her.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME!” She screamed.
“Surprise?” He said and began to eat her brain out the back of her head as if it were watermelon.

I was Eight years old when I first learnt the truth about the Forest…
I was young, full of energy, always off exploring… no one ever went near the Forest, I had never known why. One day I ventured too close, and a voice called out to me.
“Boy!” Said the ancient voice, like carving the words into the bark of a tree.
I turned and saw the Old Crone, clothed in a grey hooded cloak, her face ancient and wooden, with a long pointed nose with a hideous wart bulging on the end, one eye and the other nothing more than a huge scar, teeth missing from her mouth she waddled up to me and stared down upon me.
“You don’t want to get too close to that Forest,” she croaked. “Not yet anyway.”
She smiled it was the sort of smile at that age you didn’t fully understand, but it scared you anyway.
“No, no,” she said. “Do you know the story of the Forest, boy?”
I looked towards the vast Forest, the thousands of trees stretching out into forever, Birch and Yew trees as far as the eye could see, a few Oaks spotted, and I knew following the river in the entire river was lined with Willows.
I was standing under a Hawthorn near a little pond a short distance from the tree line, I knew adult ceremonies took place here but at that age I didn’t understand them.
“No.” I whispered, shy around this Old Crone.
“Thousands of years ago,” She said, power growing in her voice. “There was an ancient war. Men fought Men over the Gods, each Man fighting for the God they believed to be right. Thousands upon thousands died. Then Men who buried the dead waited, until the blood in their bodies no longer flowed like a river, but dried. A hole was cut through their stomach, and when they were buried trees were planted inside them. Years past and the war was devastating, soon Men forgot exactly what they were fighting for, only remembering how to bury their dead, the world was decimated and thousands of years have past since then. All these trees boy? They are the dead. That Forest is a vast Graveyard stretching on forever; those trees contain the souls of our ancestors.”
I looked deep into the heart of the Woods, it was still, almost like they knew their story was being told, as if they were listening.
Suddenly her hands were on my shoulders holding me, looking right into my face with her one eye.
“The Trees are alive boy!” She cried. “Some of the trees are the fallen of the wrong Men, these trees are evil, and wish you dead!”
I ran, far away from the Crone and the Forest, and hid in the stable by my families Cow, Betsy.
That night around the dinner table with my Mother and Father enjoying Duck cooked with lemon and honey, I told them what the Crone had said.
“Magda is old,” My Father told me. “Some says she is hundreds of years old, the last in the line of her family, all who lived unnaturally long lives.”
He told Me they were the keepers of the story, telling generation after generation the legends and history of the Forest.
“You need to know about that Forest, Son.” My Father told me, his voice solemn. “When a Boy comes of age, he must go into the Forest on his own, he must try to survive out on his own, as long as he can, and if he can, he must try to make it to the other side of the Forest.
“Has anyone ever done that?” I ask with intense curiosity.
“No. Within the Forest lie dangers unimaginable. There are more than Wolves in there, Son.”
Wolves sometimes ventured out of the Woods, hunting Chickens or Ducks. Sometimes, they ate small children who’d wandered off on their own. There was a group of men, who had lasted long or survived well at their trials in the Forest, they protected us from the Wolves, sometimes going into the Woods to hunt when food was scarce. They were the keepers of the Old Way. Each had spent time with the Old Crone, learning the stories intensely. When Winter came, and wood was needed for fires, they would go into the Woods searching for the evil trees. But sometimes they could not be found, or they hid well. The Old Crone had taught them the words to the prayers needed to be said to cut down a tree. The words were in an ancient tongue, that only the trees and the wind understood. They gave the tree peace so we could use its wood. So its soul could give us warmth.
My Father removed his shirt. There was a huge scar running down his back. I had seen him without his shirt before, when he was working at making instruments for protection for the Guardians, and I had always wondered about the scar. I had never asked.
“This scar,” he said “Came from a creature 6 times the size of any Wolf. It was creature that roared, big and mean, with shaggy brown fur. There are creatures in those Woods, Son. Monsters.”
I remember sitting there, the wind howling outside my windows, I remember imagining the beast my Father spoke of. I imagined evil glowing red eyes in the dark, stalking me as I stumbled through the Birch trees in a howling Winter’s night. My heart was racing, even at the table, by the warmth of the fire.
“Magda knows, all the children in her family, even the girls must go through the trial when they come of age.” My Mother cut in. “Magda lasted the longest of any known person. Four Winter’s they say she lasted, determined to make in through the Forest. On her second Winter, cold and hungry knowing only death would come if she kept going, she turned back. She stumbled out of those Woods delirious, muttering, starved and near death. She is the wisest and most learned person in this village.”
The hut fell silent, and we resumed eating our dinner, my thoughts plagued with images moving in the dark, of the Old Crone as a young girl sitting in the snow by a fire, freezing to death, fearing that when my time came I would scarcely last… or I would perish.
For years I kept an eye on the Old Woman, listened in when I heard her speaking to others. Sometimes she spoke to the trees. I wondered if they spoke back to her. If they did, I couldn’t hear them. But she talked to them like old friends, had conversations. Her face was like the crinkled bark of a tree. Sometimes I wondered that she’d spent so long among them she was becoming one.
When I could I spent us much time near the tree-line as possible, staring in. I watched the Guardians fight when the occasional wolf came to steal a chicken. I practised the movements they used with a long stick. My coming of age was close approaching. I’d need all the knowledge I could get. I had become determined… infatuated with the idea of making it through the Forest. I dreamed of what lie on the other-side. For me it was always some kind of paradise. Warmth, and a treeless clearing stretching for miles. Hills of grass as far as the eye could see.

Finally a new year dawned. All the children who were to come of age travelled a mile in the opposite direction of the thick labyrinthine Forest, here trees grew sparsely. I saw ponds of Geese. Cats and Dogs running about, and a larger village built on the side of a wide river. I could not see the other side, but men on small wooden boats sat in the still river holding sticks with lines entering the water. I knew what they were doing. My Father had often spoken of fishing as a child. This was the village he had came from, he had moved closer to the Forest when he returned injured from his trail the huge cut on his back. My Mother had nursed him back to health. That was what she did, she knew medicines, she knew what herbs and plants were used to help the sick. Even Old Crone came to my Mother when she was younger, they had learned together for a bit, learning the way of the herbs, when Old Crone has learned what she needed she walked off into the Woods. She came back weeks later with vast supplies of Mushrooms and other plants that my mother could use. Even teaching my Mother knew things. She truly was the wisest of the village.
When my Father was nursed back to health, a feat that had seemed impossible, he began courting my Mother, marrying her under the Hawthorn. He hadn’t left since.
“Do you see it!?” A boy called out next to me, he was a boy from a village nearer ours than this, still along the tree line.
I looked where he was pointing. Towards the middle of the village was a huge Oaken Citadel, built hundreds of years ago. Craved into the wood of the halls where pictures of the Forest, and some of the strange creatures inside it. I saw Wolves, and the large monstrous creature my Father spoke of. I saw pictures of Butterflies and other creatures I was familiar with. The Forest truly was a wild place.
When I and the other boys had all sat down inside the huge citadel a voice called out.
“Men. That’s what you will become this year. Each one of you will pit yourself against the wild of the Forest. Those of you that survive will come back men, and be assigned a post based of how well you did.”
I see the Old Crone walk up behind him, hunched and hooded in the same grey cloak.
“Magda will provide you with a week of training with her before you venture into the woods.”
He pulled out a piece of parchment, something Old Crones family line had passed down how to make through the generations.
“On this list is the order your days of birth. The order of which, you will enter the Forest. I will call the names out, but first enjoy your coming of age feast!”
Women come out dressed in beautiful green gowns. They are our age, and I imagine they set this up as a way for us to find pairs. The place beautiful clay plates with swirling carves cut into them in front of us, with a beautiful dark meat, dripping with flavour, a side of cooked river fruit, and a goblet filled with red liquid. I’ve seen the liquid before. My Father had drunk it on oft occasions. But we were to be Men, now we could drink it.
I bite in to the meat, it’s succulent and juicy I can taste that is has been flavoured with garlic, and something else I can’t put my finger on.
I finish a mouth full and wash it down with the Wine my Father had forbidden me from drinking. It was rare he had said, and difficult to make, until Summer.
It was beautiful. Sweet and made Me feel dizzy, but happy, like I could do anything. I knew the flavour on the meat now. It was wine.
The feast felt like hours, as we drank ourselves into a stupor. Some boys ending kissing the serving girls. The man came through, eyeing people off with his stern face and big grey beard, telling them it was time to be quiet and to sit down, I finished off my tenth goblet of wine by the time the halls were silent.
“When I call your name I want you to walk up those stairs to the right, and young Saiben will lead you to your sleeping chamber for the night.”
He unrolled the parchment and cleared his throat.
“Rose of Hazelton”
Whispers filled the hall, all of us looking around. A young red head with short boyish hair walked past me, dressed in boys clothes. Looking at her face I saw she was a girl, and seeing her body shape, it was obvious. But girls don’t do the trial. Only Magda’s family line. And she was the last. As the girl vanished up the stairs silence filled the hall, eagerly awaiting an explanation. None was given. The man called out the next name.
“Euan of Hawthorn”

It was me, stumbling to my feet due to the wine, I steadied myself and walked as straight as I could to, and up the stairs as a young man lead me to my chamber. Beyond the burnt black door was a small fire, a small wooden table with two chairs, and two beds on opposite sides of the room. On the bed, on the right hand side of the room, sat the red haired Rose, her beautiful white face sullen looking.
“I didn’t think they’d make me share a room.” She said, spite in her voice.
“Sorry.” I responded and dumped my clothes at the end of my bed.
I was too tired to talk. I wanted to sleep.
My dreams where strange that night. Normally your dreams are forgotten, but I remember those dreams.
I was by a pond, reeds surrounded it, I moved them aside, looking down in the pond, the water moved like a flowing river, slowing down and stopping, changing and become a complete reflection, I saw myself and heard the sound of Ravens I looked around me and saw only trees, looking back to the pond there was nothing there, just snow, snow and trees all around me, and the crying of Ravens. I looked around the birch trees and snow fell and melted on my naked flesh. And still the Ravens cried. Darkness was falling. I ran, naked and cold through the forest, falling face first into the snow as darkness fell, I huddled against a tree for warmth. Still the ravens cried. “Help!” I screamed. “Somebody please help!” I heard a blood curdling laughter from behind and jumped up to see the face of the Old Crone reaching out from the tree.
“No help will come.” She mocked. “Only death comes in Winter!” She burst into a fit of laughter and I ran.
Running as fast and far as my legs would take me, my body freezing from the cold. Seeing a small rocky cave I hid myself inside.
“The trees are alive!” I hear the Old Crone call out. “Alive and hungry for souls!” She calls.
I cried and the tears froze on my face. Dying of the cold, my naked body huddled against a wall.
“Here.” I hear a voice say, and look up. It’s Rose, she’s coming towards Me, dressed in the fine green dresses of the serving girls. “Let me warm you.” She says removing her dress and pressing her naked body against mine. My body heats up in a way it’s never done before. And the laughing of the crone changes into the cracking of a fire in the cave, and the Ravens crying silences to the gentle buzz of Summer bees. The warmth of Rose against me is heavenly and she moves her hands through my brown hair. My green eyes gazing into hers, I look at her soft milky skin and fiery red hair.
I get a feeling of intense warmth and dizziness, before I wake up.

The Oncoming Storm

January 11, 2012

The Gods, they whisper to me.
Sweet serenades, seducing my soul into sempiternal slumber.
Silently the world fades to the efflorescence beat of the Gods’ hearts.
I awaken to the burning of my abode. The Gods lullaby, ephemeral.
I hear the screams of the Wood-Folk as the barbarians attack.
The glamour of the God-Song ended. Ineffable beauty never to be heard as the men with steel-arms burn our homes.
We conflate together as we are surrounded. The children cry as the men of steel spit and sneer.
Denouement received as I awaken from my nightmare.
Harbinger of the God vision, I inform my brothers and sisters of the Oncoming Storm.
We flee through the thick labyrinthine forest.
Hearts in our throats, we say goodbye to the Gods, to our homes, and to our lives.

The Gods, they whisper to me. Too silently now…
I yearn to hear them.

The Woods

February 18, 2011

I am standing in the woods.

It is dark. But I can see clearly as the moon breaks through the tree tops.

I… don’t know where I am. It is possible I am dreaming.

I hear the sound of running water and look to my right to see a running stream. The water is crystal clear.
Almost begging you to drink it.

There is no noise. No wind. No chirping of birds or croaking of frogs. No rustling of leaves.
Silence.

I look around. I am not alone. I see the silhouette of rabbits and owls sleeping in the branches.
The rabbits see me watching and hop away… they make no noise… there is only the running water.

I open my mouth to speak… but I don’t. This isn’t a place of human words.

The light of the moon cloaks me, and I move towards the stream.
My feet make no sound until I hit the water.
It is as cold as ice.

I am in the middle of the light. Seeing where it encircles.
I see figures, watching me from the thick of the wood. Figures that move as swiftly as shadows.

The circle of light surrounding me grows smaller… collapsing in on me as the creatures move out of the trees and closer, hidden still, within the dark.
It grows smaller, and smaller until there is almost no light left, just the moons spotlight on me. And the dust floating through the light.

I cannot hear the creatures. But I can feel them, I can feel their presence, their breaths.
Soon the light will be gone. I fall back and sink into the depths of the cold stream. They will not follow me.

I stay down, in the darkness. In the freezing cold. I feel the flow of the water as the stream carries me.
I hold my breath for what feels like eternity.
And lift myself from the water. I do not breath. It is much too cold to breath. The water has slowed here. And I lay in a shallow puddle.
I look around. I am in a clearing of grass. Black grass that waves gently as if there was a breeze.
I feel no breeze here.
I get up and walk around. There are no animals here. A few tree stumps. And now I cannot even hear the river.
I see a dark path forming between the trees. A path.
I follow it.
I walk on. Hours pass. Years maybe. Time is irrelevant here.
I see a red light up ahead. A reddish glow, unworldly.
As I get closer I see what it is.
A rose. A beautiful red rose. Black outlines around the edges of the petals.
The sight of this rose makes my eyes water. Such an indescribable beauty.
A beauty neither human words nor melodies could describe.
It was something truly mystical that had the presence of a force not bound to be kind to man.
I began to hear. Sound, like pebbles dropping.
I looked and saw my tears freeze as they fell hitting the ground as stone.

I feel my stomach churn. Claustrophobia sets in. I feel the woods crushing in on me.
I run.
Wildly through the forest.
The trees sink towards me. The forest will consume me.
I break through a thicket, smashing myself through a barrier of thorns.
I am on an open plane. The moon is hidden behind the clouds, but stars light the sky. The field stretches out for miles. In the distance I see the shadows of horses running free.
Small droplets of rain fall onto my face.
Around me they fall as tears.
I wipe the water from my face.
It smells of milk and honey.
The majesty of this world…

“My soul is a dark forest. My known self will never be more than a little clearing in the forest. Gods, strange gods, come forth from the forest into the clearing of my known self, and then go back. I must have the courage to let them come and go….”

I hear the sound of a piano. Beautiful sad tunes… The world around me reacts. I feel it cry with me at the sad tunes. And I see it… the sun rising in the distance… the dew on the grass and a soft breeze blows my neck.

And I know. And I understand.

Somniloquy

June 12, 2010

“And there will be such intense darkness that one can feel it.”Exodus 10:21

A feeling of trepidation, falling through a spiral of darkness. Deep intense darkness. The deepest darkest black. So much nothingness that I can feel it press upon my skin. I scream and hear nothing… nothing. Absolute nothingness. Not even the ringing of noise damage in my ears. There is only silence.

I wake from my bed. It is dawn. What was that awful dream? A lucid dream of falling. Falling through the darkness… falling through nothing. It is completely silent. The sun slowly rises but it feels like an eternity. Birds begins calling outside my window. I rise and open the blinds. Small droplets of rain dribble down my window. The rays from the sun warm my cold flesh as it shines through the window. Words echo throughout my thoughts.

“Cloaking your soul. Wearing a mask.
Faceless entity, you deceive yourself.
Heartbroken and Scared.
Rediscover what was, buried beneath what is.
Emerging from the dark and into the light.
The shadow grows, light forgotten within.
Former life destroyed in four years of turmoil.
Pain hidden behind your Heroic Mask.
Your cracks are showing; faceless God.”

My hands tremble with fear, as I reach for the desk beside my bed. I pull my hand out with a little container marked ‘Sonata’. My Zaleplon. My eyes droop. I am so tired, a restless night. I had fallen asleep without my drugs, I was in the clothes from the night before. Deep blue jeans, and an oversized leather jacket.
I remove the jacket and swallow some pills. Now I shall rest without the darkness. Without the fear, sleep, and rest easy.
I lay down upon my bed. Head aching. The light fades… a dark shadow creeps through my room and the last thing I see before I sleep is a big… wide… smile…
I try to scream, but I fall into a deep sleep.
The voice rings in my ears as I fall through the dark.

“Sleep now. Feed Mara. Lord of the Shadows, your time draws near. Feel the darkness, feed it. Let it consume your flesh. Let it wash over you like a wave of enlightenment. Feel it’s power coarse through your veins. Feast, and be born a new. Wake from your slumber. And fill time with darkness. Spread and devour the light.”

My heart pounds furiously, but I cannot feel it with the intense darkness pressing upon my chest. I feel as if I am going to explode.
I do not want to die.. Not trapped here within my mind.
The voice speaks once more.

“Death is impossible. Until I am free.”

Bliss

June 8, 2010

It is night outside, the light shines in from the street lamp across the road. The moon is full, and if all were quiet you could swear it was humming… But all is not quiet. They’re at my window, eating the bars. Ugly little bastards aren’t they? That awful gut-wrenching stench of dried blood and that haunting cry, like cats getting raped. I think I might have a milkshake.

Two minutes later, sipping at my chocolate milkshake I ponder on how I got myself into this ridiculously absurd situation. Soon the conclusion dawns on me, that this all occurred, because I was in dire need of a blow-job.

8:32am that morning I wake with an erection. After having a glorious tug I get out of bed and proceed to make a coffee. Caramel latte. Three sugars. Sipping my coffee I stare around at the cesspool that is my house. I should really clean it…. I frown and shake that depressing thought from my head, I guzzle the last of my coffee, pack my suitcase and leave for work.

9:23am- I sit impatiently in my car. I drum on the steering wheel to a Guns ‘N Roses tune. I twitch now and again with annoyance. I’m going to be late for work… I’m going to be late… late…. fuck. I beep at the traffic ahead and throw myself around the car like a sped with bees up his ass. I’m going to be late for work. FUCK.

10:30am- My face is red with rage. My heart is pounding, my teeth gritting. I’ve been coping it from my boss for the last twenty minutes. I can’t concentrate on anything but my anger and stress. I daydream of vicious Velociraptors tearing my co-workers to shreds, blood splattering the office floor as they scream, being torn limp from limp apart while alive, meanwhile I am in a toilet cubicle getting laid by the sexy receptionist.

11:59am- Bored with graphs and statistics I change screens on my computer and log onto MSN. No one is online. Suddenly ‘SxcRecipe’ signs in. It’s the receptionist from my fantasy, we’ve been flirting for days. Suddenly I feel myself go hard. Dreams and fantasies fill my mind again. So I open a convo, and begin to chat.

1:02pm- I’m sculling my sixth coffee. For the last hour I’ve been dreaming of raptors. Killing everyone. The screams of my co-workers makes me smile. I picture the big claw on their foot cutting through that sexy, slutty face of the receptionist. That god damn dumb bitch. I finish my coffee and throw the cup across the room at the wall. My colleagues stare at me and I flip them off. I go into the toilet cubicle and pray for raptors. I beg God, Satan, Steven Spielberg, anyone I can pray to. That receptionist I talked about? She’s black mailing me. FUCK. I should have never asked for a blow-job!

8:43- This is about where you came in. A still silent night besides the constant cries of these hideous beasts, screeching, hissing, snorting. They really are foul. I begin drinking my milkshake panicky. My hands get sweaty and I feel dizzy. How did it get to this? Truthfully I don’t know. I was at the supermarket, and then I watched, starring in disbelief as the check-out chicks turned into blood thirsty Velociraptors, ripping customers into bloody shreds before my eyes. Hell. I still don’t believe it. And now, they’re outside my house and soon they’ll be inside my house. Ripping me to shreds. Soon I’ll be dead.

I finish my milkshake. With a sigh, I sit down on the couch, and I wait.

Nostalgia

May 23, 2010

Burning nostalgia.
So strong, intense, images searing through the pages of time.
A memory so strong you can still smell it, still taste it.
Flashes, thoughts, building, becoming clearer, the fog fades, the crystal becomes glass.
Could a memory be so powerful you could go back?
Could you travel through the very fragments of your soul to a memory so intense that you can exist in it? Make changes?
Could you perhaps flip through your life like the pages of a diary?
Can you remember who you are?
Can you remember who you were?
Can you remember who you will become?
Can you stop me?

I’d like to see you try.

We measure time by the annoying tick of the clock. We measure by our tedious sense of boredom. We measure life from start to finish.
From fade in to fade out. Why not fade away?
Does a memory vanish with your mind?
Or can you relieve the great and wonderful. Find the mysterious.
Feel the love.
Feel the heat. Feel it burn. Feel your body burn.
Ravenous flames burning your diary, your book of life.
Ink melts and seeps through the pages. Your life becomes a muddled mess.
Memories meld together and you forget what was when.
Wake up in a memory. Forget the writings. Your diary is blank.
Rewrite history.

Journey’s End

May 12, 2010

Voyage is over. We’ve found the shore.
Solid land with sand in my hand.
We’ve made it to journey’s end.

I close my eyes as tears seep through.
I hold you in my arms tightly.
I never want to let go.

Night falls and the stars above shine down.
Rays from heaven sparkle in your eye.
The moon reflects in the ocean, light on the water.
The air is still, and cold, and my body feels the warmth from your breast.
You hum a lullaby more magic and calming than the open ocean.

Your black pearl anklet, a reminder of those lost.
The forgotten souls over the oceans and mountains.
Destroying the past.
Destroying evil.
Erasing ourselves and becoming blank files.

Why can’t you sleep at night.
What thoughts and images plague your soul?
Will you fight till the end of time?

The waves become mountains, and you drown yourself in the black ocean, raising from the deep to swallow you.
Why is this our journey’s end?
Why am I alone?

I am alone now.
I wait by the shore, gazing into the horizon.
A glimpse of heaven, a glimpse of you.
The trees creak and say words. I ask them if it is you.
Faces in the shadow.
Signs of your love?

I must follow.
My journey must end.
I follow you through the garden of oblivion.
I am swallowed by the sea.
I have reached my journey’s end.

It was One O’clock in the morning, nothing could be heard, it was a cool, frosty night and Tim lay in bed, moaning and crying as he had done for the past twelve months after his Fathers death. He would see the same thing every night. His Father waving goodbye as he got onto his boat for his trip to an offshore island to study the Reptiles, but the next part of the dream was less happy. The sea got rough, the water sprayed up onto the boat stinging his Fathers eyes. A huge wave would come throwing the boat up into the air, and bringing it crashing down upon a pile of rocks. The boat would crack, pieces of wood flying everywhere, a chunk flying straight into his Fathers eye as he ran around helplessly waist deep in water. He was right offshore the island, water filled with Sharks that could smell his blood. They would come, lunging towards him tearing his left leg straight from his body. His blood filling the waters surrounding him. He crawled through Oysters, cutting all over his body, to soft sand, bleeding he screamed for help. He began getting dizzy; he knew he had lost lots of blood. He took his pocket-watch out of his pocket and threw it into the jungle in front of him. He started panting, he knew he was going to die, and he screamed, crying,. A wave landed on top of him, to reveal nothing but blood red sand.
Tim awoke, screaming and wet with sweat. He jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom; he opened his mouth as vomit flew into the toilet. He turned on the tap, cupped his hands and felt the icy water drip into them; he threw it up into his face washing away his tears and “sleep”. He looked at himself in the mirror, he was a tall skinny boy, with a mouse-brown hair, he had big green eyes and shinning white teeth.
“Another bad dream?”
He turned around expecting to see someone else, but it was only his Mother. Wearing pink fluffy slippers, she had dyed blonde hair and looked extremely tired, with lines under her eyes.
“Yeah” He said “The same one.”
“Don’t worry they’ll be gone soon.”
He shook his head. He wasn’t so sure of that, he had a school excursion coming up, he had to take a boat to that same island his Father had been on, and if he didn’t he would fail Biology. The only subject he’d ever cared about since he was a child. He wanted to be just like his Father. There was a sudden loud knock on the door.
“I’ll get it” she said walking away “You just get dressed.”
Tim quickly ripped off his clothes and put on an old baggy pair of jeans and a Led Zeppelin T-Shirt and a pair of rusted old dog-tags.
“Oh hey Josh.” She said, opening the door to let the young boy in.
“Is Tim up yet? We planned to walk to the dock.” He asked looking worried.
Tim quickly walked out grabbing his bag.
“I’m ready, let’s go.” He muttered quickly.
Josh was around the same height as Tim, but with long silky red hair and no freckles. He had light brown eyes and was wearing jeans and a plain white T-Shirt, around his neck hung the symbol of the Ouroboros (a Snake biting its tail). He brushed his hair out of his eyes as Tim walked past him.
“Wait Tim, can I have a word?” Shot his mother just as he was stepping out the door.
Tim turned slowly; they’d had this talk before.
“It’s OK Tim, go ahead, I’ll wait outside.” Said Josh again brushing the hair out of his eyes.
Tim gave a short, fake smile before letting Josh walk past, and walked into the kitchen with his mum.
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to” She said looking at him sternly.
“I don’t want to, we’ve had this talk before. But I have to OK mum? I’ll be fine.”
“Tim I just-”
He cut her off as he started walking out the door.
“Yeah well, we’ll talk about it when I get back.”
He closed the door, and caught up to Josh who was halfway up the street. He lived in a small misty town, nothing much besides beach and sea, besides a few shopping centres. As they walked past a blow hole it quickly blurted icy water all over them.
“Oh shit that’s cold!” Yelled Josh quickly running to the other side of the road.
“Ah come on, it’s not that bad.” Said Tim laughing.
“Argh man…” Moaned Josh looking down.
“What?”
“I lost my necklace!” He ran over looking down.
“Man I wouldn’t do that, I’ve heard of people falling in.”
“Yeah well, you’re a good swimmer, you’d save me.” He said peering hard into the water. “I think I can see it.”
“Dude, back away I can hear it.”
A rumbling filled their ears but Josh ignored it.
“Well time for you to save me!” Yelled Josh as he jumped down landing on a small cliff edge.
“Josh!”
He ran over, making it there just as water burst from the hole soaking him. He couldn’t see anything down there.
“Josh! Josh!”
“Down here you wanker!”
He could barely make out the shape, but he saw Josh’s hand grabbing the edge of the cliff, loosing his grip and in his hand was the Ouroboros necklace.
“Shit man!”
“Just fucking jump down here and get me!”
“Dude…”
“Now!”
Without hesitation Tim jumped landing on a small edge, he lowered himself down a bit, he slipped and fell landing on a bit of a bigger edge on his back.
“Tim! You all right buddy?” Josh yelled with difficulty.
“I’ve been worse” Tim moaned lifting himself up.
They heard a short rumble, they new what was coming next and they didn’t have much time.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He quickly jumped from ledge to ledge.
He could see the water coming and he could see for some reason this was not normal sized. He dived down landing flat on his stomach right above Josh.
“Tim! Tim are you alright!” He screamed only now realising the seriousness they were in.
What they heard next almost sent them deaf, a noise louder than Thunder, the water was crashing in. Josh’s face filled with fear.
“Tim! Tim go now! Tim get out!”
Tim knew they were doomed. But inside his head he heard a faint voice, it was telling him to get up. He was ignoring it.
“Get up, get up, get up.” it said.
Tim whispered “I can’t…”
“Get up!” It screamed a noise louder than the crashing of the water, so loud was the noise inside his mind that Josh could hear it.
“What the…” said Josh as the water came flying up upon him.
Tim seemed to just hover to his feet he grabbed his friends hands and hopped up to the top, quickly escaping the brute force of the water which burst higher than 30 feet in the air. They crashed, landing in the middle of the road as water crashed down upon them and the rest of the street.
“What the hell was that?” Whispered Josh.
“That blow hole ate some bad casserole” Tim said laughing.
They stood up soaking wet.
“How the hell are we going to explain this to Mr. Graham?” Said Tim looking at Josh.
Josh’s long red hair was filled with seaweed, they were both covered with massive cuts and bruises and were soaking wet.
“Improvise.” Said Josh, spitting out some water and blood.
******
“Where have you two been?” Asked George Monroe.
He was a tall dark skinned man and quite chubby. He was wearing a khaki T-Shirt and some short jeans, his face was covered by a huge pair of sun glasses.
“Well we had an incident Sir.” Said Tim grinning.
“You look like you’ve been hit by a bus.” He said taking off his glasses for a better look. “Just what the hell happened?”
“Well you see…” Said Josh “I kinda lost my necklace down the blow hole.”
“You have to be kidding me.” He said, quite shocked.
“It’s OK Sir, we’re all in one piece.” Said Tim touching his arms and legs and finishing by grabbing his crotch.
“Thank God for that. Now get over there and sign on.” He said pointing towards a woman in a white Visa marking the roll.
******
It was dusk, the sun was beginning to disappear, the water was calm and Mosquitoes where biting everyone.
“Dude did you bring any Areoguard?” Said Josh slapping at his arms and legs.
“No, for some reason Mossies don’t like my blood same with Leeches and other things.”
“Bah.” Said Josh slapping himself in the face. “This is GAY!”
Tim just laughed as he sat down at a small wooden table writing notes. They were in a small room, not more than 5-6 metres big.
“Screw this I’m going to have a shower.” Said Josh throwing down his shirt.
“Well don’t get into your lame PJ’s, I promised Trish and Jamie we’d meet them at 11:00. ”
“Yeah, yeah whatever.” He said turning on the shower. “Tim loves Trish! Oh he wants to do things to her!”
“Dude shut the hell up man!”
“Ha-ha take a joke.”
Suddenly a loud crack of thunder and a huge bolt of lightning hit right next to the boat. The boat stopped and the shower stopped running.
“What the hell was that?” said Josh stepping out wearing a towel around his waist.
“It was just some lightning.” Said Tim ignoring him.
“Where did it come from, we had perfect weather.” He said looking confused.
It began raining hard.
“OK. Now you have my attention.” Said Tim now looking up.
The boat began rocking fiercely.
“Tim…”
A huge wave flipped the boat sending it down under the water, but even then it was still being thrown around until it smashed into a group of rocks sending it flying in pieces.
******
“Tim! Tim!”
Josh was stuck right onshore the island a piece of the boat landed on him and had stuck his left leg. Tim laid across from him a piece of the boat over both his legs.
“What…?” Tim asked, looking up, still dizzy.
“Tim! I’m stuck!”
“Well that makes two of us.” Moaned Tim, trying to lift his head up.
It was low tide, but if it raised any higher they would surely both drown.
“Can you lift yourself out?” Asked Tim turning his head to look at Josh.
“No, can you?”
“No… ah… it hurts…”
In the middle of them lay a huge, rusty, old nail.
“I’m gonna get myself out” Said Tim looking at the nail. “It’s either that or we die.”
But before he had even finished talking Josh had it in his hand.
“Josh no!” He screamed.
Josh ripped off a piece of clothing and shoved in his mouth, than stabbed the nail down into his leg. Afterwards followed muffled screams.
“Josh no! Josh stop!”
Josh had now gotten rid of all the skin surrounding his bone. His face was red and he was in massive pain, the piece of clothing fell out of his mouth and his screaming filled the beach. He began bashing his bone, snapping his own leg off.
His pain was so immense he couldn’t do anything but scream. He crawled across to Tim, throwing the boat off him.
“C’mon Josh…” Screamed Tim carrying him further up the beach.
Tim tried to relax him, but he was shaking uncontrollably. The beach was covered with a line of blood.
Josh ripped off his necklace placing it in Tim’s hands.
“You… ugh… have…”
Tim could feel his hands…. they felt cold… He knew Josh didn’t have long but he wouldn’t accept it.
“NO!” He screamed banging the ground with his fists, the ouroboros imprinting itself in the sand.
Tim fell beside Josh’s cold body crying. The Ouroboros imprinted into the sand began glowing. He laid his hand on Josh, but it felt warm. He lifted up his head and looked over at Josh. Josh was sitting up. With both legs.
“What the fuck…!” Yelled Tim quickly jumping up.
Josh looked at himself.
“What happened?” He asked quite puzzled.
“You were fucking dead is what happened!” Yelled Tim looking at him.
“Why the hell are we on an island?” Said Josh looking around puzzled.
Tim stepped back, confused and afraid. He felt something under his foot. He turned around seeing a pocket-watch. Visions of his dream about his Father flew through his head.
“No…”
He picked it up and opened it. Inscribed on the side of the watch was his Fathers name. Tim began crying. He looked again. And written underneath his Fathers name was something he’d never seen before. Inscribed were the letters, M.A.N.A.

Primeval Hearts

March 22, 2010

Vision
The Northern eye falls upon him,
Stopping him dead in his tracks.
Sword blood red, eyes shut tight
Draining his power from him.
With the blink of the eye, allows him the time
To hide from this unearthly creature.
With the swish of his sword
And a screech from the eye,
He sits there and waits
For this unearthly creature to die.

Interigartus
The rain is colourless
A land quite clear
Heaven to Werewolves
Why am I here?
Full moon overhead
Werewolf stalks the bay
Screams all night
Screams till day
Howl you must Venso
On you twelfth birthday.

The Laughing Vampire
The day of dread
A dawn of sorrow
Why live another day
The fact is that I’m already dead
Cut me, slash me, do all that you please
The fact is that I’m already dead.

Water World
Through misty waters you may seek,
Though your chances of finding are merely weak.
Through waters cold, a land shall come.
It will be revealed
And all will be done.

The Kingdom
Not carved in brick and mortar
Not carved in blood and bones.
There is one last city
An unearthly creature owns.
It sits upon a mountain
A desolate rocky trail.
There it plays the Pan Pipe
Gazing at the shore
Wishing it could be there
At the Kingdom, once more.

Dead Night
Eyes blood red,
Fingers pale white.
I see him,
In the dead of the night.

Angel’s
The Angel’s asleep
The Village waits for defeat
Dead Men don’t weep
Cry, come save us O’ Lord
We await sound of feet

Dragon
It’s egg fell, like a tear, from the sun itself
It rained that day, the rain fell as steam
It hit, falling through to the core itself
It rained that day, the rain fell as steam
Years pass, flowers bloom, rivers dry
A silent echo, the Earth shakes, a Dragon emerges
Terror strikes, a hero, a reason, a legend, a lie
Sword drawn, he faces the beast, he swings
It rained that day, the rain fell as steam

Elegance
A child of elegance
A child of such intelligence
I smell him from here
I see him
I see fear

Autumn
The Autumn leaves fall
Coo coo, coo coo, goes the Owl.
A sweet Autumn breeze, blowing across its face
Coo coo, coo coo, goes the Owl.
Eyes lower slowly, ready to go to sleep
Coo coo… coo… coo…. goes the Owl.
The old lady sips her tea on the park bench
Ducks quake, dogs bark, children laugh and play
The Owl sits there asleep, on this fine Autumn day.

Aquila oculus subsisto etiam
He moves.
It does not.
He breaths.
It stays motionless.
He walks.
It waits.
He falls.
It watches.
He dies.
It feasts.

Loveless Beat
She walks by
His heart skips a beat
She says hi
His heart skips a beat
She dies
His heart then cries
A loveless beat

Signum Fidei
For those who fall or may be slain
A petal of a rose, granted to thee
Will cure the symptom, but not the pain
So as you lie fast asleep
An Angel comes with a harp of Gold
Whose songs so strong they make grown man weep.
An Angel ancient, strong and bold
He shall state upon to thee
The Verbum Dei

Subrosia
Though scattered, his thoughts were one.
Though confusing they made complete sense
A vision. An Image. A masterpiece.
But why can’t it exist.
A pen was lifted. A thought was given.
The land of orange skies.
A beach, with sea shells on the shore.
A surreal fence, stretching into the distance.
A cloaked being, a land of imagination.
The land never to be shown.

Transfer
Darkness around me, the crashing of thunder.
I lay in the middle of the road, water running over me.
Closing my eyes, as the cold drops dampen my body.
A feeling of euphoria, in a dream like state.
The crashing fills my ears along with the splashing of rain.
My eyes open, looking up to the heavens. Breathing heavily….
I lay down to die. To rest forever. My soul exits my body.
I ascend.

Carnivore
And like rain, fire fell from the sky
Trees alight in flame and I watched, as they died
My world destroyed before my eyes
Like a shark eats a fish
This fire consumed my world

Hearts
I burn through the innocent. And butcher all who have light in their hearts.
The world shall tumble to darkness. And the Kingdom of light shall fade.
And as my eyes close, forgetting the scene of light. I close my heart.
So I keep it with me. And never fade to the darkness.
The light stays in my Kingdom… my heart….

Relic
A crystal moon, engaging like the winters heart.
A silent whisper, echoes like a flying dart.
He sits in wind and storm, not moving from his chair.
He sits, day in night, guarding his sacred lair.
Eyes, set fixed upon a little flower
Sensing from it, a forbidden power.
Waiting day and night, for his master to return
Of journeys, of adventures, he did wish to learn.
Of forbidden cities he wished to be told
Stories of monsters and heroes, grand and bold.
A present he did keep, hidden in his yard
The last remaining artefact he was here to guard.
Gleaming yellow like the golden moon
From another realm, it belonged to whom?

Song of Storms
By the graveyard he does waltz
While the leaves sing their songs, the Piper will play
Drenched in the mud and the rain
A Hero bleeds and kneels to pray
The dead shall all rest
All part of Tailtiu’s big play.

The Face of Love
When love gets my faith
When I hear her call
I decide upon my fate
When the wall is about to fall
I face the Goddess
I face it all.

Deep
Coldness engulfs me as I feel the air from my lungs escaping.
I cannot breath as the icy water pushes me down…..
Darkness grows, and I feel the pressure building…..
An ecstasy fills me, a euphoria never experienced….
Amongst the rough pulling of the currents I find myself at peace
Death is blissful

Adrift and at Peace
Faith disappears from time
Space vanishes like a ghost
Life fades like a dying sound
Here and there. Not here, yet there.
A note that gives no sound.
From yesterday to the infinite
The tomorrow of the past
The ripples of a life, not but a dream.
Adrift and at Peace

Primeval
Unscathed, untouched through time.
A visual image, unimaginable.
Unscathed, untouched through time.
Rivers flow, fires burn,
Mountains crumble.
The sky stays the same.
Unscathed, untouched through time.
Lightning strikes, waters flood, continents shift.
Unimaginable change.
Volcanoes blow, earthquakes shake, lizards roar.
Unscathed, untouched through time.
Wild, uncontrollable, nature, breaking free, painfully.
Unscathed, untouched through time.
Men fall, blood sprays the ground.
From Ape to Man, from Man to God.
Unscathed, untouched through time.
Grasses grow, a child breaths, a family dies.
The Earth remains the same.
Unscathed, untouched through time.