MiSsY's StOrY (Prose)

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MiSsY's StOrY (Prose)

Post  TheMissyMassacre on Fri May 14, 2010 7:22 am

((Still thinking of adding pictures))



Viciously Innocent


“She deserved it,” Antony affirmed grimly.

Hearing those words was like Cleo was being stabbed with a thousand rusty, broken needles. Her blood boiled and she spun around to glare a deadly warning that spoke volumes at him. She advanced on him quickly before he had a chance to flinch and pushed angrily at him, knocking him back a step.

“Don’t you ever say that! Not when I’m around! Or I swear I will rip out your bleeding heart with my bare hands and shove an arrow right through it!” Cleo’s lips pulled back, baring her pointy teeth as she snarled at him.

Antony merely stared at her, her rage not even fazing him. Standing there, he looked like a shell of the being he had once been. There was a slouch in his stance, tears coating his cheeks, and a haunted look forever draining the life out of his eyes.

Cleo screamed in fury at him, never once seeming to move him, and that only served to further aggravate her. Her face was stained with tears as well and contorted in a horrible grimace that didn’t falter for a second. Ripping her narrowed eyes away from Antony’s sorry figure, she threw her arms up in the air and shrieked wildly. Quickly, her breath disappeared and she swayed on the spot, quiet sobs slipping past her lips. Her eyes were closed when her legs gave out and she was kneeling on the dirty ground.

A short distance away a raging fire blazed. There was an entire section of the forest in flames; yet neither seemed to notice or care. After Cleo was silent, her hands covering her face, the only sounds were the crackles of fires and trees collapsing. Neither of the two moved, not for a long while. The light of the fire was the only thing that penetrated the darkness of the night that would have surely swallowed them up without a second thought. Of course, Antony would most likely welcome it.

Finally after hours seemed to have passed, Cleo lowered her hands and took a deep breath. She didn’t so much as glance at Antony, her gaze fixed on the ground. She opened her mouth as though she was going to speak, yet no words came out. It took her a moment to find her voice and she at last looked to the brightening sky.

“Daybreak is nearing,” Cleo spoke quietly, her voice a small noise.

Antony didn’t even flinch. “So?”

Cleo looked towards him now, taking in the stubborn set of his jaw. “We must go and seek shelter and such,” she narrowed her dark beady eyes at him now not at all liking where he was going with this.

“I’m not stopping you,” Antony added.

Grinding her teeth, Cleo stood up on shaky legs. His halfhearted suicidal notion was starting to get on her nerves, but she wasn’t about to explain to him how he would be a pile of dust if he was caught in the morning light. She stood in front of him with her back straightened, her eyes determined. Reaching out, she gently poked his chest with her claw; her eyes softened some when she noticed him glance down at her for a split second.

“You couldn’t even if you tried,” Cleo replied simply, like she would any other day.

Without doubt, Antony must have known it took strength to try to lighten the load of grief settling on her heart with humor. If he hadn’t, he never would have looked Cleo in the eye with shame written clearly on his face. He earned an amused glint in her eyes. He was still watching her as she walked around him, making her way into the field, away from the dying fires. Reluctantly, he too managed to move his feet and trail after her at a slow pace.

Cleo slowed her own pace until he had caught up with her. Antony didn’t dare look at her now as they trudged side by side through the knee high weeds of the field. No one said anything after they had crossed the field and reached the fence bordering the river. With disconcerting, agile grace, she hopped the fence looking almost inhuman as she did. Down a little ways was a small worn row boat awaiting them right where they had earlier docked it, though it had been with two extra passengers that would never sit upon its wooden benches.

Cleo paused suddenly when she didn’t sense Antony behind her. Slowly, she turned around and looked at him curiously as he stood on the opposite side of the fence, clutching the tattered wood as he stared at his feet. Sighing, she took a step forward and placed her hand over his, making him look at her.

“I don’t want this to ever happen again,” Antony said quietly.

Cleo nodded her head with remorse. “Me either.”

Antony shook his head, adopting a serious expression. “I won’t let his happen to anyone, not for the rest of eternity.”

Understanding finally lit up Cleo’s eyes. She realized now the extent of what he meant. To anyone else, they’d have never grasped what he was really saying. If he truly meant this, he’d spend the rest of time doling out this task. He would have to relive his mistake again and again, choose for others who could not do it themselves.

Cleo returned his questioning gaze with her answer. “I’m not letting you do this on your own. See this as the beginning of a very ugly partnership,” she warned him.

On the contrary, as Antony looked at her, he was reminded of how unnervingly beautiful she was. None the less, with everything he was feeling, temptation was not in his box of emotions. The very sight of her brought a sharp pang of guilt into his heart. Yet after all he had put her through, after everything he had taken from her, he could never make it up to her and earn her forgiveness. Sighing softly, he leaned forward, resting his lips against her forehead. She stiffened at the gentle kiss and felt a tear slid down her cheek and onto her neck.

“Don’t expect me to be sorry,” Antony whispered.

Cleo’s eyes burned with instant hatred. “One day, you will be,” she whispered back ominously.

((More to follow later))


Last edited by TheMissyMassacre on Sat Aug 14, 2010 5:51 pm; edited 2 times in total
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Re: MiSsY's StOrY (Prose)

Post  TheMissyMassacre on Mon May 24, 2010 6:13 pm

((UPDATED!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Names and title up!))
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Re: MiSsY's StOrY (Prose)

Post  NinjaLadiesMan on Tue May 25, 2010 6:12 pm

very nice

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Re: MiSsY's StOrY (Prose)

Post  TheMissyMassacre on Tue May 25, 2010 7:22 pm

((why thank you :3))
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Re: MiSsY's StOrY (Prose)

Post  NinjaLadiesMan on Wed May 26, 2010 6:18 pm

((why you are most certainly welcome))

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Re: MiSsY's StOrY (Prose)

Post  TheMissyMassacre on Thu Jun 17, 2010 4:03 pm

((This is the next installment, the first part was a prologue of sorts, this is the actual beginning))



Her fingers brushed the sandy floor cluttered with moss covered rocks and pebbles. The water was cool compared to the humid air above. She was fully submerged under the still lake, protected from the uncomfortable hot night, and guided by the near full moon. The beams of moonlight barely lit up the dark shrouded water, but she wasn’t very deep. In fact, she never went past the tall, foreboding lake weed wall.

When she decided it was time to resurface, she pushed off the lake floor and disrupted the stationary water when she emerged. She took a breath of air, savoring the sweet scent of wildflowers on the bank. While running her fingers through her tangled wet hair she let her eyes adjust to the light and she took in the night scene.

“I thought the sign said swimming hours ended at nine pm,” a voice called out to her.

She gasped and looked around frantically for the speaker, oblivious to the mock-scolding tone he’d used. She knew instantly the voice was male, so she sank a little lower in the water until it was up to her chin. Finally, her gaze landed on a guy lounging on a picnic table. She took in his attire, relieved he wasn’t wearing the park ranger uniform, unless rangers wear faded jeans and black t-shirts under a black leather jacket. She blushed when she realized he’d noticed her still staring.

“What’s the matter? Did the little mermaid lose her voice,” he teased.

As the wispy clouds overhead shifted in the sky, a beam of moonlight lit up the bank, and she could see him more clearly now. He lacked a tan though it wasn’t a shade too pale to not make him appear handsome, and had hair so pale it almost looked white in the meek light, the tousled locks hanging in his eyes. Possessing the physique and bone structure of a Greek god, his careless good looks were most enviable. From the distance between them though, she couldn’t make out what color his eyes were or even what kind of shoes he was wearing.

“This is a pretty little dress you’ve got here,” he continued as he lifted up a heap of cloth from the table he sat on top of, holding her sundress up for her to see. “It’s kind of thin though, and a little long.”

She sank down deeper until the water was past her pursed lips, trying to avoid his probing gaze, and wishing he’d leave her alone. He grinned, flashing a pearly white smile, noting her reaction. Pulling the dress into his lap he closer examined the white and red striped design.

“Now, if this is here, and you’re over there…?” he trailed off into an unspoken question. “Not to mention I must note how you seem to be growing very shy and making yourself scarce. I can’t help but wonder as to what you’re wearing at this very moment.”

Instead of floating there, trying to explain her way out of this embarrassment and his ridiculous notion, she felt a flash of defiance. She suddenly ducked under the water and in seconds dashed to the more shallow waters. She stood up, showing off her simple black bikini as she trudged across the beach with fire in her sea blue eyes, making a point at proving him wrong.

He was silent as he watched her approach him, letting her snatch the dress out of his grasp. She stood there glaring at him and dripping water, clutching the clothing without putting it on. His amusement made her furious to the point she had no idea what to say or do. Chuckling, he hopped off the table and stood in front of her, perhaps a little to close for comfort. Her rage was drained from her, replaced by shock when he took her free hand in his. A soft reassuring smile played at his lips when he saw the look in her eyes that gave the impression of being a sort of rebuff. He brought his face close to hers; a bold move in her mind. She was forced to look him in the eyes and her breath caught in her throat.

“Green,” she murmured without thinking.

He raised a curious eyebrow as he lifted their hands. Already he could hear her heart hammering in her chest; a most delightful sound to his ears. He held her gaze unwaveringly, keeping her captivated while she stammered out how inappropriate this was. Paying her no mind, he brushed the back of her hand against his cheek. She let out a shaky breath, lost in the cold feeling of his skin as he slid her hand over his lips, frozen by the green of his eyes. She hardly even noticed his other hand tug the dress from her grip. Eventually, he released her from his gaze.

Blinking dazedly, she clutched at empty air, looked down and realized he had let go of her hand and stepped back. She simply refused to look at him as he gently lifted her arms and slipped the dress over her head. The clothing hung off her petite figure, making her look like something a cat dragged in. Through his eyes, she appeared miserable and out of sorts. His smile turned pitying and he shifted his night’s menu.
She crossed her arms, shivering a bit after realizing the night had cooled down. Glancing at the towel that had been lying beneath her dress when she took it off, she blanched when she saw a cat lying on top of it. When did the cat come into the picture? The cat had a coat of short black hair and white paws that almost looked like it was wearing mittens. Looking up lazily, the cat stared at her with shockingly bright green eyes. The guy smile bemusedly at the nearly comical sight. “You seem to be picking up a lot of strays tonight, love.”

She shook her head stubbornly. “I don’t think so. Who said I was going to keep either of you. And I have a name you know,” she quickly retorted.

Still smiling, he approached the cat and made shooing motions. The cat merely blinked and stared at him incredulously. He in return pursed his lips and shrugged out of his jacket. Chivalrously, he draped his jacket over her shoulders which she pushed her arms through the sleeves when he let go, snuggling into the fabric when he wasn’t looking.

“My name is Katrina,” she murmured.

He flashed another brilliant grin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She raised an expectant, perfectly plucked black eyebrow. “And you are?”

“All in good time. So Kat…” he started before she promptly interrupted.

“Katrina,” she corrected.

“It’s a little late for you, isn’t it?” he continued as if she’d never interrupted.

“I suppose. Isn’t it late for you too?” she challenged.

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “As a matter of fact, no it isn’t.”

Katrina opened her mouth as though she were about to say something, but thought otherwise and instead approached the cat. She glared at the cat whom in return begrudgingly hopped off her towel and leapt down from the table. Katrina snatched her towel and shook it before folding it neatly. Silence prevailed as Katrina turned to face the stranger once again.

They stared at each other, waiting for one of them to break the silence. Finally, Katina sighed heavily and glanced up at the sky. “I need to get back.”

He nodded as if figuring as much.

She smiled a half smile and began backing away towards the forest edge. “So, I guess this is goodbye.”

His smile was gone, replaced by an emotionless mask. It startled her how quickly his expression changed, but she tried not to let it show. She paused in her steps to evaluate what was going on under that mask. Raising an eyebrow, he shot her a look as if to nudge her along. As if for added effect, he raised his hand and waved goodbye at her.

Frowning, she turned around, her back now facing him. She couldn’t help but shift her gaze all around, desperately resisting the urge to glance over her shoulder at him. Her stride was hesitant and slow, but careful as she didn’t want to accidently trip and embarrass her self in front of him. When she approached the tree line, she stopped yet again.

“If you want to get back in touch, just leave the jacket outside,” he suddenly called to her.

Katrina quickly turned around, realizing she should give back his jacket before he left. Confusedly, she looked around the now empty beach. He was gone and she still had his jacket. Why did he leave his jacket with a stranger he’d probably never see again, and how on earth had he left so quickly without her noticing? Something darted towards her and she yelped when fur brushed up against her legs. She frenetically moved further into the woods. The sound of a pleading mew caught her attention until she looked down to see the cat from before sitting on the ground.

Her heart was beating furiously from her surprise, her free hand held over her heart, so it took a moment for her to calm down enough to speak. “Don’t you have a home to go back to?” she gasped. “Where’d you come from anyway?”

She’d never felt more ridiculous for talking to a cat when she realized the animal wasn’t about to answer her. The cat simply remained sitting there, staring at her. Katrina sighed and started walking down the thin trail that she had founded as a child. Something furry brushed against her legs again and she looked pointedly down at the cat.

“What? Do you want to come with me or something?” she snapped irritably at the creature.

She didn’t know why she was so annoyed, and scolded her self for taking it out on a cat. She just clutched the towel tighter to her chest and started on her way home, all the while having the cat follow without missing a beat. The walk was silent and otherwise uneventful. The moonlight provided enough light that she was able to gauge her location and made her way home barefoot in half the time it would to drive there.

She lifted the empty brown plant pot off a spare key and shoved it in the lock to the backdoor of her house. She knew her mother was sound asleep, so she wasn’t overly cautious about getting caught sneaking in. Prodding the door open, the cat leapt inside the dark house if it already lived there. Pursing her lips, Katrina let that slide as she softly closed the door behind her. A warm bath was already waiting for her in her own private bathroom attached to her bedroom as she climbed the wooden stairs. The cat observed her bedroom for a moment before leaping onto the window seat and curling up.

Katrina rolled her eyes and grabbed a fresh towel and change of clothes before closing the bathroom door. Once she was squeaky clean, she cautiously crept back into her room, wondering if the cat had already wreaked havoc on her room. The cat lay asleep on window seat when Katrina slid into bed, everything still intact.

Her black, wet hair fanned out across the pillows of her bed and she pulled the blanket up to her chin. When she was comfortable, she awaited sleep. Minutes passed as she stared up at her ceiling wondering if exhaustion would ever lull her into sleeping. The room was so quiet. She couldn’t stop thinking about that guy she had met at the lake. She glanced out of the corner of her eye at his black lather jacket hanging on the bedpost. Why had he let her keep his jacket when she was probably never going to see him again? And why had he been at the lake so late into the night? But above all, she wondered what his name was.

Her eyes at last drooped closed and dreams entertained her for the remainder of the night. Something was different about this dream though, a certain character continued to play a big part. That certain character being the stranger she’d met tonight.
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Re: MiSsY's StOrY (Prose)

Post  NinjaLadiesMan on Tue Jul 06, 2010 1:48 pm

((oh i like it it is very well put together))

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Re: MiSsY's StOrY (Prose)

Post  TheMissyMassacre on Tue Jul 06, 2010 2:47 pm

((glad u like it, but now I'm not quite sure where to go from here...))
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Re: MiSsY's StOrY (Prose)

Post  TheMissyMassacre on Thu Aug 12, 2010 7:33 am

((woot! i did it! i actually wrote something; too bad its kinda short x.x))

After a long night out, Antony treaded through the woods towards a spacious log cabin. There was not a trail or anything to mark where the cabin stood, at least none recognizable to mere mortals. The cabin itself was surprisingly two stories tall, along with a basement down under the ground. Trees surrounding the cabin grew so close together that they hid the cabin as it were a sort of camouflage. To stay hidden and out of sight was exactly what Antony wanted, because he wasn’t staying there alone.

A harsh noise that Antony could only assume was music laced with profane lyrics was blasting from the cabin, causing him to cringe upon reaching the front door. A musky scent instantly attacked his nostrils as soon as he set foot inside. He seethed for a moment before dashing up the stairs, foul words tickling the tip of his tongue. The music was coming from behind a closed door that led to the master bedroom’s private bathroom.

Without bothering to knock, Antony snapped his fingers and the door flew open as though the lock was nonexistent. Standing by the antique claw footed tub is Cleo, staring contentedly into the water. She didn’t bother turning to greet Antony, instead remained standing by the tub side wearing, from what Antony could tell upon quick inspection, only a red silk robe.

Antony stepped further into the bathroom, the musky stench now replaced with another scent entirely. His eyes slowly turned to slits as he glared a hole into Cleo’s silk clad back. She didn’t comment as she ran a finger through the water filling the tub, completely transfixed by the simple motion. Antony scented the air cautiously. Just as he suspected; the whole room reeked of blood. He stepped close to the tub and scoffed before swiftly turning away when he saw the tub was not filled with water, but blood, and lots of it.

“Whose is it?” he snapped irritably at Cleo.

She merely smiled wistfully, frustrating Antony to no end. He quickly glanced around the room and sure enough, crumpled behind the tub was a mangled body. It was already too late for the mortal; he’d been dead for a while. Head snapping back at Cleo, he bared his fangs at her, slapping her hand away from the tub of blood.

“I was gone for barely a few hours! Here I was ready to go relax without having to hold your leash and when I come back, this is what I’m rewarded with! Once, just once, can you please refrain from the nasty tendency that always sends me into a frenzy!” he ranted with fury for a moment.

When he realized that Cleo was still staring at him through half lidded eyes and a pensive expression, he exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose as his eyes scrunched closed.

“Okay, fine. You need to rest, come on,” he said softly and gently grasped her wrist, leading her back into the bedroom.

She followed after him silently, a saunter even in her step. She was always like this after a kill, but lately it hasn’t lasted as long as it used to. Antony led her to the large king sized bed, roughly pulling the silk covers back. He froze when she wrapped her arms around him, the equivalent of pulling a statue into a hug.

Nestling her face sweetly into the crook of his neck; he stood half a head taller than her. She made pleasing little noises in the back of her throat, like cat purring as it brushed against the legs of its owners. Antony knew that whatever affection she showed towards him now was only fueled by the high of her kill. In better words; none of it was real. Still, he continued to tuck her into bed as though she were a child.

Just as he was about to pull the covers over her, she grabbed his hand. He froze under her touch and met her sea blue eyes. She gently tugged him onto the bed, and he reluctantly obeyed her silent request, crawling under the covers with her. He desperately tried to keep his face blank of emotion as she snuggled into him. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her and she sighed contentedly.

Panic welled up inside him now, which he quickly tried to dispel. What they were doing didn’t have to mean anything. When she was back to her normal self, she would go back to hating him and wouldn’t accept any of his attempts at redeeming himself. Right now, maybe he could fool himself into believing that he was making amends by amusing her.

“Did you really love my sister?” she asked dreamily.

And just like that, his mood was ruined. Recovering from the blow, he smoothed down her long black hair, shushing her into silence. Eventually, she closed her eyes and drifted off into sleep. He sighed heavily, sill smoothing her hair. Since the incident those few years ago, he had gotten stronger, though he was still nothing like he was before it happened. Right now was a moment of weakness as he indulged in the feeling of her hair beneath his fingertips, her soft breath against his chest, and knowing she lay completely vulnerable to all the terrible things he was capable of. The panic bubbled up, past his defenses and he carefully slipped out of the bed with out waking her up.

The remainder of the night was spent disposing of the body, emptying the bloodied tub, and scrubbing it down. The cabin still held a stench that was disgustingly bittersweet, but there wasn’t much he could do but open a few windows. He knew lighting some candles would be ideal, but it was still too much to bear; the striking of a match always reminded him of that night three years ago.

He could sense the sun rising and knew it was time to return to his room down in the basement where there were no windows. The basement was the one place in the entire cabin that Cleo was not allowed to go. Here was where Antony would rest as the sun ruled the land and would arise when the moon crawled up to its place in the sky. He could only hope that there wouldn't be a rude awakening when Cleo started to remember what happened and how she had gotten to bed.
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Re: MiSsY's StOrY (Prose)

Post  NinjaLadiesMan on Fri Aug 20, 2010 11:40 pm

((You did alright i still think it has flow))

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