Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Shukumei ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Scooda 
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Fantasy / Hentai / Comedy | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 02.04.2010 | Updated On: 04.15.2010 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 144 | Status: Work In Progress
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Fantasy / Hentai / Comedy | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 02.04.2010 | Updated On: 04.15.2010 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 144 | Status: Work In Progress
Prologue
Stacey
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'I'm being followed.'
Panic gripped her tightly, making her heart constrict as she clutched her pocketbook closer to her chest and speeded up. Her pursuer followed in kind, staying close behind her. Although she hadn't realized he was there immediately, his presence was hard to ignore, and she cursed herself for being so absent minded. She wasn't in a small town anymore; this was a city---a huge city---she heard about things like this all the time. How could she be so stupid?
She knew she was running out of time; that he realized she knew he was there. She felt his presence close in on her, and she made an abrupt turn at the corner, crossing the street recklessly into oncoming traffic. People screamed obscenities at her as she dashed to the sidewalk, looking briskly over her shoulder. She almost smiled when she locked eyes with his furious ones as he was forced to wait for the traffic to slow. 'One point for me,' she thought smugly, quickly walking off.
She walked quickly down the street, the sense of danger slowly draining from her body. Her shoulders, before tense and raised around herself protectively slowly lowered and relaxed, and she stopped, pressing her back against a nearby building and taking a deep breath. Suddenly, her blood turned ice cold and her entire body stiffened. Her fingers involuntarily clenched into a fist around her pocketbook, and she slowly pushed herself off of the building, her gaze riveting to the alley directly across the street. Eyes gleamed in the darkness, yellow and catlike, and predatory glare to them, and she knew that even if she ran, she had no chance.
They had followed her even here.
She carefully picked her foot up and shifted to the right, watching as the eyes took on a glint of glee and watched her carefully. He wanted her to run, she realized wildly as she slid her other foot so that her legs weren't so far apart. If he was foolish enough to come after her in plain view under the street light, she was determined that he was going to have a fight on his hands, that she was sure. Another presence made the hair on the back of her neck stand, though she didn't break eye contact with the eyes in the alley.
She heard a door creak open closed, and a soft chuckle behind her. The eyes watching her flickered away, focusing behind her, and she followed his gaze, looking carefully over her shoulder.
He was huge.
Almost seven feet with silver, almost platinum hair dusting the back of his blazer and falling easily over his eyes, he stared down at her with amused curiosity, one dark brow lifting comically and a soft grin spread across his face. His eyes flicked to the alley and she glanced back, suddenly remembering her situation and took another step to the right, counting in her head to the seconds that she would take of running.
"Don't move," He muttered, almost a growl, and she froze again, her heart beginning to hammer painfully in her chest. He flashed another grin at her and focused back on the alley, shrugging offhandedly. "You've saved me a lot of trouble, you know?"
The eyes blazed with distrust, and he stepped forward a little into the light. The ashen skin seemed unnatural in the pale streetlights, his eyes glowing inhumanely as he glared at her with loathing. "What do you mean? That's my prey," He hissed, his voice having an odd tinge to it. One she recognized.
Painful memories flashed through her head, familiar terror, and she bit back the bile in her throat. What would she do? There was nowhere else for her to go---they've followed her across the country . . .
He broke into her thought with his dark chuckle, and moving so fluidly it didn't seem as if he moved at all, he grabbed her arm and yanked her up the three stairs to stand next to him. Her head was barely parallel with his chest, his steel grip holding her arm in a painful grip she couldn't rip out of. He glanced at her and loosened his grip, and turned back to the presence in the alley. "Well, she's my prey now," He said smugly. Her heartbeat faltered and slowed, her knees almost buckling in fear, and she thought she heard him chuckle. "Unless you want to fight for her?"
An enraged snarl reached across to them seconds before the eyes slinked back into the alley and disappearing, and he laughed all out now, turning back towards the door and pulling her through with him. She stumbled and fell on her knees, then quickly jumped back on her feet, backing away from him.
He watched her with a frown on his face, his arms crossed over his chest. He seemed to be contemplating something, and instead sighed and shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. He glanced at her from under his bangs and she suddenly wanted to know what colors his eyes were.
"Are you deaf?"
"W-what?" She stammered stupidly, blinking.
He rolled his eyes and gave her a bored look. "I said why are you out this late?"
"Work." She answered tersely, glancing around her. A doorway was next to her, and she slowly shifted her body, noticing a dining room table and an oven. Surely there was a back door, if she could reach it in time.
"You'd never make it," He said smugly, shrugging. "But you can try all the same."
She swallowed the desire to scream and tried to seem indifferent. "Are you going to k-kill me?" Her voice broke at the end.
He stared at her for a long time and sighed, walking past her brusquely and into the kitchen. She turned and watched as he sank his huge form into one of the wooden chairs, hearing it creak dangerously, and he gestured for her to sit down too. She didn't.
"Don't worry," He called to her, leaning back and folding his hands behind his head. "I don't drink human blood anymore."
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< br> His name was Stacey, and he wasn't human. That she knew even before he told her he wouldn't kill her.
He was the presence that made the hair on the back of her neck stand, but now she realized it wasn't directed at her. His strength had been directed on the monster following her in the alley, which would have killed her if he didn't step outside just then and dragged her into the house.
She was terrified.
He stared at her now, under his bangs through eyes that she could see clearly now despite the crappy bulb that barely managed to light the filthy kitchen. An impossibly brilliant lavender that scrutinized her carefully now, hardly hidden behind the thick hair he wore over his face, she forced herself to keep from staring at him, instead looking around at her surroundings. The table was covered with newspapers and dirty plates and cups, the kitchen needing a good disinfecting and scrubbing, the sink full of dishes.
He laughed at her dismay and glanced around himself, shrugging. "Don't worry. I don't really live here."
"What? Then why---"
His eyes darkened and turned serious, the light from them suddenly faded, and something ugly and dark began to form in her stomach. "I just needed a place to stay until I found you." They lightened up a little, but the ugly feeling inside of her didn't vanish. "Who would have thought you would have come to me?"
"What do you mean you were looking for me?"
His eyes flicked to her hand that grabbed her pocketbook, and his eyes softened. He straightened his chair and folded his hands on the table, staring at her intently. "What do you remember?" He asked her softly.
Her breath caught in her throat and she tore her eyes away, focusing on the newspapers scattered all over the table. The feeling in her stomach intensified, erupting into a painful ache in her head and behind her eyes and she whimpered softly, squeezing her eyes closed.
She heard him sigh and the chair creaked again, and she opened her eyes to see him leaning back in the chair again, his eyes staring at the ceiling with an odd expression on his face. "Don't worry about it," He muttered. "You might just be better off."
"S-Stacey," She muttered shyly, ducking her head. "Thank you for saving me from . . . from the monster. But I really have to go."
He didn't say anything, didn't even look at her when she stood up to go. She stared at him for a while, and realizing he wasn't going to say anything, began to walk to the door. "They know you're here."
She froze and whirled around to face him. "What did you say?"
"The people you're running from know you are here."
"No . . ."
He stood up, turning towards her. His smile was devoid of emotion, and he took a step forward. She clutched her bag to her chest and backed up, and he stared at the bag for a moment before looking into her face again. "They've been following you for months. I thought maybe you would have stood a chance here, but you've made a terrible mistake. You grew too comfortable, you exposed yourself, and now everyone knows you're here."
"No!" She shook her head in denial.
He nodded solemnly. "They're coming to kill you," He said slowly, walking towards her. She looked wildly around her, trying to find somewhere to run, and he shot up, slamming her against the wall so hard they shook from the force and shot his hands out around her head, pinning her against him. He leaned down and pressed his nose to her throat, inhaling unevenly. "God, you smell so good."
"Please," She whispered, her voice choking with tears. "Please, don't!"
He made a low noise in his throat, a savage growl and pressed his mouth to her throat, grazing his sharp fangs against the soft skin there. Her blood turned ice cold, and she stiffened, squeezing her eyes closed as tears streamed down her face. The pocketbook slowly slid from her hands down to the floor, falling loudly as her hands fell to her sides.
He lifted his mouth from her throat to her ear and whispered a snarl into her ear, a command.
"Duck."
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A/N
Panic gripped her tightly, making her heart constrict as she clutched her pocketbook closer to her chest and speeded up. Her pursuer followed in kind, staying close behind her. Although she hadn't realized he was there immediately, his presence was hard to ignore, and she cursed herself for being so absent minded. She wasn't in a small town anymore; this was a city---a huge city---she heard about things like this all the time. How could she be so stupid?
She knew she was running out of time; that he realized she knew he was there. She felt his presence close in on her, and she made an abrupt turn at the corner, crossing the street recklessly into oncoming traffic. People screamed obscenities at her as she dashed to the sidewalk, looking briskly over her shoulder. She almost smiled when she locked eyes with his furious ones as he was forced to wait for the traffic to slow. 'One point for me,' she thought smugly, quickly walking off.
She walked quickly down the street, the sense of danger slowly draining from her body. Her shoulders, before tense and raised around herself protectively slowly lowered and relaxed, and she stopped, pressing her back against a nearby building and taking a deep breath. Suddenly, her blood turned ice cold and her entire body stiffened. Her fingers involuntarily clenched into a fist around her pocketbook, and she slowly pushed herself off of the building, her gaze riveting to the alley directly across the street. Eyes gleamed in the darkness, yellow and catlike, and predatory glare to them, and she knew that even if she ran, she had no chance.
They had followed her even here.
She carefully picked her foot up and shifted to the right, watching as the eyes took on a glint of glee and watched her carefully. He wanted her to run, she realized wildly as she slid her other foot so that her legs weren't so far apart. If he was foolish enough to come after her in plain view under the street light, she was determined that he was going to have a fight on his hands, that she was sure. Another presence made the hair on the back of her neck stand, though she didn't break eye contact with the eyes in the alley.
She heard a door creak open closed, and a soft chuckle behind her. The eyes watching her flickered away, focusing behind her, and she followed his gaze, looking carefully over her shoulder.
He was huge.
Almost seven feet with silver, almost platinum hair dusting the back of his blazer and falling easily over his eyes, he stared down at her with amused curiosity, one dark brow lifting comically and a soft grin spread across his face. His eyes flicked to the alley and she glanced back, suddenly remembering her situation and took another step to the right, counting in her head to the seconds that she would take of running.
"Don't move," He muttered, almost a growl, and she froze again, her heart beginning to hammer painfully in her chest. He flashed another grin at her and focused back on the alley, shrugging offhandedly. "You've saved me a lot of trouble, you know?"
The eyes blazed with distrust, and he stepped forward a little into the light. The ashen skin seemed unnatural in the pale streetlights, his eyes glowing inhumanely as he glared at her with loathing. "What do you mean? That's my prey," He hissed, his voice having an odd tinge to it. One she recognized.
Painful memories flashed through her head, familiar terror, and she bit back the bile in her throat. What would she do? There was nowhere else for her to go---they've followed her across the country . . .
He broke into her thought with his dark chuckle, and moving so fluidly it didn't seem as if he moved at all, he grabbed her arm and yanked her up the three stairs to stand next to him. Her head was barely parallel with his chest, his steel grip holding her arm in a painful grip she couldn't rip out of. He glanced at her and loosened his grip, and turned back to the presence in the alley. "Well, she's my prey now," He said smugly. Her heartbeat faltered and slowed, her knees almost buckling in fear, and she thought she heard him chuckle. "Unless you want to fight for her?"
An enraged snarl reached across to them seconds before the eyes slinked back into the alley and disappearing, and he laughed all out now, turning back towards the door and pulling her through with him. She stumbled and fell on her knees, then quickly jumped back on her feet, backing away from him.
He watched her with a frown on his face, his arms crossed over his chest. He seemed to be contemplating something, and instead sighed and shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. He glanced at her from under his bangs and she suddenly wanted to know what colors his eyes were.
"Are you deaf?"
"W-what?" She stammered stupidly, blinking.
He rolled his eyes and gave her a bored look. "I said why are you out this late?"
"Work." She answered tersely, glancing around her. A doorway was next to her, and she slowly shifted her body, noticing a dining room table and an oven. Surely there was a back door, if she could reach it in time.
"You'd never make it," He said smugly, shrugging. "But you can try all the same."
She swallowed the desire to scream and tried to seem indifferent. "Are you going to k-kill me?" Her voice broke at the end.
He stared at her for a long time and sighed, walking past her brusquely and into the kitchen. She turned and watched as he sank his huge form into one of the wooden chairs, hearing it creak dangerously, and he gestured for her to sit down too. She didn't.
"Don't worry," He called to her, leaning back and folding his hands behind his head. "I don't drink human blood anymore."
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< br> His name was Stacey, and he wasn't human. That she knew even before he told her he wouldn't kill her.
He was the presence that made the hair on the back of her neck stand, but now she realized it wasn't directed at her. His strength had been directed on the monster following her in the alley, which would have killed her if he didn't step outside just then and dragged her into the house.
She was terrified.
He stared at her now, under his bangs through eyes that she could see clearly now despite the crappy bulb that barely managed to light the filthy kitchen. An impossibly brilliant lavender that scrutinized her carefully now, hardly hidden behind the thick hair he wore over his face, she forced herself to keep from staring at him, instead looking around at her surroundings. The table was covered with newspapers and dirty plates and cups, the kitchen needing a good disinfecting and scrubbing, the sink full of dishes.
He laughed at her dismay and glanced around himself, shrugging. "Don't worry. I don't really live here."
"What? Then why---"
His eyes darkened and turned serious, the light from them suddenly faded, and something ugly and dark began to form in her stomach. "I just needed a place to stay until I found you." They lightened up a little, but the ugly feeling inside of her didn't vanish. "Who would have thought you would have come to me?"
"What do you mean you were looking for me?"
His eyes flicked to her hand that grabbed her pocketbook, and his eyes softened. He straightened his chair and folded his hands on the table, staring at her intently. "What do you remember?" He asked her softly.
Her breath caught in her throat and she tore her eyes away, focusing on the newspapers scattered all over the table. The feeling in her stomach intensified, erupting into a painful ache in her head and behind her eyes and she whimpered softly, squeezing her eyes closed.
She heard him sigh and the chair creaked again, and she opened her eyes to see him leaning back in the chair again, his eyes staring at the ceiling with an odd expression on his face. "Don't worry about it," He muttered. "You might just be better off."
"S-Stacey," She muttered shyly, ducking her head. "Thank you for saving me from . . . from the monster. But I really have to go."
He didn't say anything, didn't even look at her when she stood up to go. She stared at him for a while, and realizing he wasn't going to say anything, began to walk to the door. "They know you're here."
She froze and whirled around to face him. "What did you say?"
"The people you're running from know you are here."
"No . . ."
He stood up, turning towards her. His smile was devoid of emotion, and he took a step forward. She clutched her bag to her chest and backed up, and he stared at the bag for a moment before looking into her face again. "They've been following you for months. I thought maybe you would have stood a chance here, but you've made a terrible mistake. You grew too comfortable, you exposed yourself, and now everyone knows you're here."
"No!" She shook her head in denial.
He nodded solemnly. "They're coming to kill you," He said slowly, walking towards her. She looked wildly around her, trying to find somewhere to run, and he shot up, slamming her against the wall so hard they shook from the force and shot his hands out around her head, pinning her against him. He leaned down and pressed his nose to her throat, inhaling unevenly. "God, you smell so good."
"Please," She whispered, her voice choking with tears. "Please, don't!"
He made a low noise in his throat, a savage growl and pressed his mouth to her throat, grazing his sharp fangs against the soft skin there. Her blood turned ice cold, and she stiffened, squeezing her eyes closed as tears streamed down her face. The pocketbook slowly slid from her hands down to the floor, falling loudly as her hands fell to her sides.
He lifted his mouth from her throat to her ear and whispered a snarl into her ear, a command.
"Duck."
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A/N