Fan Fiction ❯ Underworld ❯ One-Shot

Underworld

Fragile Beauty

Such an elegant, fragile beauty. I feel as if I have been blessed by the gods that I can truly appreciate such an ancient beauty. The face that I see from afar is so gentle, so soft, and I know that it is the most enchanting thing that I have ever seen in my life. Somehow, deep down in my dark soul, I also know that this will be the most beautiful thing that I ever see. I will die before I see anything as truly breathtaking as this again.

I tremble as I study her. I feel as if I have long ago left this world and found myself somewhere else, somewhere where a beauty like this can be justified. How can the world, as destructive as it is, really be the home of this angel? I study her closely, and I feel my very soul shaking as I do. That elegant figure, tall and lithe. I know somehow that she is a very graceful dancer. I can imagine her long arms flowing through the air around her as she spins, her legs carrying her like a springing deer in the most gentle of dances. Even now, as she walks before me across the distance, she is dancing. The dance is subtle, just the soft movements of her arms and the swirling of her long hair in the cool breeze, but the dance is there. She is entrancing everyone through her movements, drawing them in.

Her hair is so soft, framing her face gently. It falls down her back like a waterfall, and yet it is so light that it flows slowly around her body in the soft wind in waves of golden brown. It seems as if her whole body is floating, too light and free, unburdened, to be constricted to the earth. Her skin is fairly pale, and yet flushed with life. It has the appearance of being soft, but that could just be my fantasy. To me, reality and dreams can easily be mixed. Reality causes pain and suffering, so my imaginary world is important to me. This girl before me could easily be a figment of my imagination, but as I hear her soft, warm voice laughing, I know that she is all too real.

She is wearing a long gown, thin and light. As she spins around laughing, her arms spread out wide and her face turned towards the sky, the dress slowly spins with her. It leaves her body almost reluctantly, to fall again and mould itself once again to her figure. It is white, the palest of whites, and it suits her perfectly. The shine from her golden hair and the silvery glow from her dress illuminate her entirely. As the golden rays of the sun dance across the glen, she appears to be angel. She is dancing, swirling slowly in a golden circle of sunlight.

Then, oh, she looks towards the sky and opens her eyes. The pale blue of the cloudless sky is nothing compared to those eyes. Light and free, those eyes radiate her very life. They sparkle gently, baring her soul openly. She has nothing to fear. She is life itself.

She is laughing gently again, such a warm laugh. She is not alone. All around her are young girls, giggling and laughing, watching her. Everyone is watching her. They are surrounded by trees, which seem to be leaning towards her. Sunlight is pouring onto them, the children of Heaven, and she is their most heavenly creature. Her arms awing gently by her side and I realise she is holding flowers. They are walking across a field of flowers, dropping gently every few steps to release a flower from the ground and hold it delicately. She has several long stemmed flowers entwined in her long fingers. I realise that she has weaved the flowers together into a delicate coronet. With a soft giggle, one of her companions takes the flower coronet from her. Slowly the girl places the flowers on her friend's head. I inhale sharply. As soon as the flowers were placed against her golden brown cascading hair, I am filled with admiration. The flowers are red, bright red. Strangely they remind me of blood, but it seems that the pain of death and destruction is left far behind when I am watching her. Without even realising it, she heals me of my pain.

Those flowers, I realise, are poppies. They are so striking against her pale face that all I want to do is push them away. And yet, with that coronet placed delicately on her head, she seems almost regal. With the golden rays of the sun playing across her skin, she appears to be a queen. I sigh contentedly. The flowers she holds are very beautiful, natural, but she is the most beautiful flower in the field. How can someone like this exist? She is the personification of spring itself. She is young, blooming beauty. Graceful, gentle. Such a fragile beauty . . . almost unearthly.

Kora, that's her name. Maiden. She is Kora, a beautiful and fragile girl, spring itself. She is beauty. She is love. She is life. She is my life. She is my lightness, and all I want to do is possess her.

I find myself unconsciously reaching towards her, as if by wrapping my cold fingers around her, I will be warmed. She is like a light, a burning candle in the darkness of night. She radiates warmth and the shadows around her tremble. If she is the light, then I am a moth, attracted to her flame. I want only to fly to her. Yet I know that if I should get too close to her I would burn. I know this. I can feel it deep within me, a terrible loneliness. I was born alone, and I know that I will die alone. That is how it was meant to be. There is an aching inside my chest, a heavy pressure. It feels as if something is crushing my lungs and I find it hard to breathe. When I think about my solitary life, I shiver. I can't help but wish that things could be different, that I could possess such light. Even when her looks fade I know that she will still burn as brightly, and I want only for her warmth to bring me to life.

Dark Lord

I feel his glare. It seems to be burning. His very gaze burns my skin and sets my soul on fire. Waves of warmth run through my body and I close my eyes. The warmth I can feel isn't from the sun, the giver of life. This warmth, this heat, comes from the knowledge. The knowledge that he is looking at me. How can such a dark, cold person be warming my very life?

I feel myself drawn to him. I can see his shadowy figure hiding in the darkness. I am safe in the circle of the warm light, and yet I urge for something . . . something deeper. How long can I live safely in the light? How long can I be protected? All I want to do is run, embrace the shadows, and find the man who hides in them, the man who watches me. I want to take his cold hand into my warm one, wrap long fingers around his. I want to warm him, like he is warming me. I want to lead him from the shadows into the light. I am light. He is darkness, and yet I crave something so unnatural to me. I don't understand how he can be so dark, and yet the shadows intrigue me. Perhaps he was lured into the darkness by the dancing shadows. Perhaps, if I am brave, I can rescue him.

He has watched me for a long time. I feel that he has been watching me since I was born. I am always aware of his eyes, and yet strangely this feeling comforts me. I want him to see me. I feel myself dancing slightly as the cool wind wraps itself around my body. I know nothing about him, not really, and yet that doesn't matter. All I need to know is that he's there, and I feel warm.

Who is he? His name is Aides. My Aides. I have never spoken a word to him, never once looked at him face to face. He is a figure, a dark figure that haunts me, and I love him. He is a part of me, the darker part of me that I want only to kiss and cherish. If only I could keep away his pain with my lips, with my hands. Unconsciously I reach towards him, then, catching myself, I weave my arm back towards my body almost gracefully. I want to touch him, want him to know that I care. Yet I'm scared of him, of who he is. How can I love him when he's such a dark person? Can I give myself to the darkness? Could I give up everything just to be with him?

Yes.

Delicate Soul

I watch her as she sleeps. She is so peaceful, so innocent. Her hair is spread around her like a halo, long arms rest delicately at her side. I watch as her chest slowly rises and falls. Her lips part slightly as she breathes. She is life itself. As I watch her breathe slowly, I realise that I am watching life. I am holding life in the palm of my hands.

Those sparkling eyes are hidden under closed eyelids. She is so peaceful when she sleeps and I dare not waken her. She is like a young child, gentle. In her dreams I know that she, like me, finds freedom. I yearn for that freedom during the day and yet only find it when I close my eyes and leave this world. For a moment I envy her, and want only to wake her so that she can tell me her dreams of freedom in her gentle manner so that I might close my eyes and imagine what it would be like to be free, with her. I want to wake her so that she will look at me with those sparkling eyes, so full of life, and say everything that I want to hear without speaking a word.

I'm not sure what possessed me. I have been so content in watching her from afar for so long, but as I watched her dance gracefully among the flowers I was filled with desire. A desire to hold her gently to my chest and comfort her, and hold her for eternity. Nothing more. All I wish is to hold her, and let her grow into an even more beautiful flower. Every day she grows more and more beautiful, such a tender person. The poppies are still in her hair, startling red. They are wilting softly, crimson petals falling from her coronet to float gently through the air. As long as she remains kind and gentle, this girl, this flower, will never wilt. For how can life itself wilt?

I couldn't help myself. I have watched her for so long, yearned for her. She danced in the fields, teasing me, the sunlight warming her. Then I found myself moving forward unconsciously. She draws me to her. I willingly followed. Suddenly I was standing beside her, watching her so closely. The sunlight warmed my skin, but she was the only thing that made me feel warm. I trembled slightly as she turned, aware that someone was watching her. When she saw me standing before her, she smiled. It was such a warm smile, and yet strangely sad. Her eyes sparkled and yet narrowed in pity. Then she reached out a hand towards me, not saying a word. Startled, I held back, but her warmth seemed to radiate from her. I told her hand and she led me into the flowers. I was surrounded by bright colours, and sweet smells, but she was always the brightest thing that I could see.

The light warmed me. Golden rays danced across my skin, and I felt truly happy. Such a strong feeling in my chest, a feeling on freedom. She held me closely and I could feel her warmth. As I held her I could feel her body, but more strongly I could feel her soul. Her delicate soul. Such strong feelings were inside her, a feeling of uncertainty. All I wanted to do was comfort her. But that couldn't be. She is light. She led me into the sunlight, into the warmth of the world. I was captivated by it all, but I didn't belong there. The light and the darkness call to one another, and as we moved away from the light and all its freedom, I knew there was only one place that I could lead her to. I lead her to the darkness.

Shades of Black

Darkness. All around me is darkness. No matter where I look there are shadows, looming around me, engulfing my body. I feel as if the different shades of black know me. I have seen them for so long they seem to be part of me, responding to my pain. They swallow me, play tricks on me, and separate me from my soul.

Every time I close my eyes I am haunted by images of death and destruction. The shadows feed on my fear and for the first time I realise just how much I crave the light. Is this the darkness? This is the place that he led me to, and I wonder how he can bear to be here. Such pain, such fear, such loneliness. I can almost feel myself withering in this place. I wonder how long he has been living in solitude. I wonder how hard it would be to mend his damaged soul. I can still feel his hand, hold in mine. He is leading me towards the only world he has ever known. He is leading me into the darkness, into the shadows. Faded flames flicker around me and I know. These shadows . . . they are ancient. They have an ancient knowledge. Everything they have seen they remember. Now I know that light and darkness are both ancient. They have existed since the birth of this world, and they walk hand in hand.

He shows me his world, his home, and I pity him. A world without light seems pointless to me. How can a flower grow without the sun? How can life exist? He says to me, "Flowers cannot grow in the darkness. That's why flowers grow in the light, like you. I can merely admire them." I feel myself flush, and at the same time I am fiercely protective of him. Aides. I want to wrap my arms around him and pull him close. I want to protect him from the shadows and the darkness. I want to erase his pain. Such a lonely life. He says that my eyes are dull, and I know that the shadows are causing me pain to. But I know that I am strong. I will protect him first. He is gentle, so kind and caring. His eyes are dark, ebony black, but they are full of life too. He has been given life, and I cherish that thought. Some people say he is evil because of the darkness within him. I know the truth. He is lonely. I am surprised that the darkness has not made him bitter, but I know that he will never be lonely again. I won't let him be lonely. I'll never leave him because he needs me, and I would die without him. He is the monarch of this dark realm, and I will be his queen.

Sad Fate

Is this our fate? Will she always lead me to the light and in turn I will lead her to the darkness? What a sad fate. Now I understand why she looked at me in pity. Now I know why those eyes were so sad. Perhaps she understands too.

She is the reason that I live: the only reason. For so long she has been a hidden part of me and I love her dearly. I love her more than life itself. How can one person complete me? She is a part of me, and yet so different. She tells me of her dreams of freedom and I am happy, imagining what it would be like if we could be free together. And yet, deep down inside of me, I know that this can never be. An overwhelming grief holds my body and I tremble. There is a darkness inside of me that no amount of kissing can destroy. I will eternally be a child of the darkness, the lord of the darkness. Even if I wanted to, I could never be lead into the light. The sunlight would burn me, and I would waste away. Cruel fate! It denies me from having the one thing that I desire the most, the thing that keeps me alive.

I know that I have her. Kora. She has given herself to me completely and I in turn have given myself to her. I want only to hold her, to be with her. She has given up everything just to be with me. She has given up the light, the sun, just so that she can protect me. I feel a terrible guilt weighing down my chest whenever I look at her. No longer does she move gracefully, dancing like she used to. No longer does she close her eyes and spin in the warm sunlight. No longer does she pick flowers to weave into her hair. For I told her that flowers can't grow in the darkness, and now I realise just how right I was. The darkness is killing the only flower that I ever picked. I watch her, day by day, as she withers away.

She is such a strong person. She smiles at me warmly, takes my hand. She is still the same person I always loved, no matter how she moves. Those blue eyes still radiate the same love for me, but they are no longer the sparkling blue they were. Now they are grey, and one day I fear that they will become black. I couldn't stand to see her black eyes watching me, knowing that it was my fault she died. I love her too much to do that to her. I want to save her, to give her back her freedom. There is only one way that I can deliver her back to the light. If there is no reason for her to stay in the darkness with me then she will return to her carefree days of spinning in the sun. She will live in happiness, in the freedom that I always dreamt for her.

Closing my eyes, I whisper her name one more time. My voice sounds harsh, but I know that somehow my love is reflected in the way I speak her name. "Kora." How could anyone as beautiful as she ever love this shadow? I feel the ground give way beneath me and a feeling of absolute weightlessness overtakes my body as I fall.

Alone

I gasp as the lightening flashes across the sky, ripping through the darkness. For a moment that light reminded me of the sunlight, only more deadly. As another lightening bolt tore the sky apart, a feeling of dread overcomes me. I feel uneasy suddenly, though I am not sure why. I look up and see the stone gargoyles intricately carved, staring back at me. Normally ferocious, the gargoyles now appear to be frowning in the shadows. Rain is pouring down now, and the rain drips down the stone faces as if the creatures are crying.

Then it hits me and I realise what has happened. I shake my head in disbelief, not able to comprehend why. I find myself running blindly, crystal tears running down my cheeks. Such a terrible loneliness has overtaken my soul. My chest is aching, as if someone has ripped out my heart. I can barely breathe; such a heavy weight is crushing my chest. The tears on my cheeks mingle with the rain.

No. I fall beside his broken body and can barely bring myself to touch him. Maybe it's just the shadows playing tricks on me. If I touch him, and I feel his body, I might collapse. Even now I can feel myself sobbing, tears running uncontrollably down my face. My whole body is shaking and I keep saying his name over and over again. "Aides, Aides, why?" I know, and it haunts me, that I will never receive a reply. I look up to the sky and realise that my eyes are sparkling blue. I have long been released from the curse of the shadows. If only he knew . . .

I have a choice. I could return to the light, live forever in the sunlight that was once my home. Perhaps I could once again be free and happy. Yet I know that I was never happy when I lived in the light, because I didn't have him. The light means nothing to me without him. Why couldn't he understand that? I'll never return to the light. I feel as if someone has torn me in two, and I can't believe that I will never see him again. No matter where I lived, I would have died to be with him. The light, the darkness, mean nothing without him.

And I know what I must do. "Don't worry, my love," I say, caressing his broken body. "I won't let you be alone. As long as I'm with you there will be no darkness, not even in death. I will follow you wherever you go. I'll follow you to the Underworld so that we will never be alone." Then my hand, too, becomes limp, and all that is left of us in this world is two broken bodies.