Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Venom ❯ One-Shot
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Lilian 
Anime/Manga: Sailor Moon Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Horror | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 07.27.2003 | Pages: 3 | Words: 2.9K | Visits: 199 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Sailor Moon Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Horror | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 07.27.2003 | Pages: 3 | Words: 2.9K | Visits: 199 | Status: Completed
** Venom **
Summary: In a world of darkness, a lone stranger makes his last mistake.
Author: Lily.
Email: lilian413@yahoo.com
AN: This is the (very) revised version of a story by the same title posted at ff.net. Enjoy, and be sure to tell me what you think of it!
********************
Three AM.
The hour of witches. The time of the night when only the drunk and the whores are still awake. The hour of darkness. The time of fear... as the world sinks deeper into their slumber, a lonely figure interrupts the swift flow of darkness.
A figure of power.
A figure of energy.
Through the distance and among the night's mist, soft steps rebound on the ground. High heels...
tap, tap, tap...
Over and over, going on and on... filling the dark... opening the black...
As the figure walks closer, sudden fear creeps upon your heart. A hand of ice settles on the small of your back and as your heart stands stiff, you realize this feeling is far more than just fear: it's terror.
Terror from evil. The evil that's in the air.
Far off in the distance, some dog howls to the moon--- telling anyone who's wise enough to hear him to hide. To hide until this evil is long gone... but you don't obey.
You can't obey.
You're rooted to the floor, as your curiosity gets the better out of you. You need to know what's coming. You need to stare into the face of whoever is disrupting the natural flow of the night. As you look closely, you can make out some details from whoever is moving towards you. The air shimmers around the figure, adding glamour to its stance, but that is not what strikes you as odd.
... short hair...
... blue eyes...
... blue clothing...
With mind-stopping clarity, you recognize the figure as one of the Children of the Light. As a protector of the innocent, a fighter for Justice. You have seen her figure a thousand times before, striking a pose amidst a group of similar suited girls (nay, women).
And yet--- not.
Your very soul tells you something's wrong. The one in front of you is literally throbbing with evil and wickedness. Anyone who belongs to the Light irradiates good... and you feel paralyzed in terror. As much as you now want to move, to hide--- it's already too late. You've been caught in the spider's web and right now, you are the fly. Your mouth is dry and your heart beats a thousand times a minute, deafening you, swallowing you. Every single fiber from your body tells you to run and you try to, you really do... but you can't move. Your primal instinct of survival screams at you to *move it*! And then, suddenly, you can see her. As if the shadows have parted, she stares right back at you not five feet away, smiling. And that smile freezes you on the spot, keeps you still when you should be fleeing.
That smile is your undoing.
It does not reach her eyes. Her lips are curled in the sweetest grin you have ever seen, but it's not a happy smile. It's dead to the world, pretty much like she is. Her eyes are cold, so, so cold--- you can't help but shiver, as the ice creeps up your legs and you realize you are already lost.
As she draws near, gliding among the shadows as if she was one of them, you notice the two pointed fangs shinning under the moonlight. They catch the light of the fair asteroid and reflect it as if mirrors they were, and bedazzle you to the point of no return... dripping with blood... The tiny rivulets of the crimson liquid making their way down her chin should fill your heart with fear. They should alert you of what's going to happen and you should be screaming right about now. Instead, you simply let loose a sigh as one droplet of blood falls from her dainty chin unto the awaiting floor.
Detached, you wonder who she has eaten. Another unsuspecting victim caught on their way home, maybe? Or a planned hunt? A careful watch kept over them, knowing they can feel her but not see her, stalking them to the point of madness and then striking as fast and swift as lightning?
When she speaks, any and all thoughts are chased away from your head and you find yourself drawn to her, as if hearing her speak was the single most pleasurable thing in the world. Her voice is seductive, and oozes around you, inside you, consuming you--- "You are next."
You want to close your eyes, but the vision in front of you is so horrible and at the same time so angelic, you can't. If you close your eyes, you wouldn't be able to see her and you want to go watching her... it doesn't take a genius to realize these are her thoughts and not yours. *She* doesn't want you to look away, hence, you cannot. She brushes her gloved hand against the soft skin of your cheek and you lean into it like a cat does into a caress. Her smile turns wider and sharper, and your face feels chilled once her fingers move away.
"So eager, little one."
Shame washes over you like a flood and invades your innermost corners like they didn't even exist. And suddenly you know these are not your feelings, just as those weren't your thoughts. She mourns the girl she once was, but nothing betrays the storm within her when she softly tilts your head to the side. Not a halt in her step, not a shiver in her hand--- silent, efficient and business-like... she doesn't want to do this but it is in her nature now, as much a part of her as the power she is using to keep your feet iced into the floor.
She licks her lips slowly, her pink-colored tongue coming out of her ruby-red lips and drawing a perfect arch against them. Something in the way she's touching you allows her mind to connect with yours and you can see what has happened, you can see the self-disgust at her lack of control and how she cries every morning when she wakes with her lips tinted in blood and her clothing ragged and torn. Another night scouting the city for nourishment, another victim that fell under her call.
She has changed, changed so much that if one were to look under the faint sheen of normality she keeps wrapped around herself like a cloak, one would never believe what lay hidden. Corrupted and tainted by Evil, an evil so ancient, so timeless, it has no name and speaks no language. And she was taken, right under everyone's noses, drifting off into the dark. She is a Daughter of Darkness now. She no longer belongs to the world of the living... she walks the streets at night, fighting against the demon that now resides within her soul and failing every time. She cannot tell them. She has tried, God has she tried, and every time, she has been stopped. The demon in her wants to survive and hinders her attempts at revealing the truth to her friends.
The connection breaks suddenly as she realizes she has revealed too much. For a split second its as if she will let you go, her eyes soften to the point that in them you can recognize the girl she once was... it vanishes under the pressure of the feeding and becomes nothing more than a memory.
"She lies deep within me now, little one. She is but a memory, coming forth when I let her. Do not expect her to save you... she could not save herself."
The demon that speaks through her lips and uses her voice to deliver such ominous threats relishes in the burst of horror that spears you. Blinking rapidly, trying to clear your eyes from the mist that creeps into them every time you look at her in the eye, you focus on something (anything!) else. And her skin beckons you, and you stare at it with such energy one can't help but wonder if you haven't seen skin before.
And in a way, they are right. You have never seen skin like this one before... she is so pale, Gods, so pale!, she's like marble against you. And she shines with a light of her own, so unnatural, so *wrong*, tears come to your eyes. As if lead by an invisible hand, your eyes turn down and watch with morbid curiosity the way her chest rises and falls with the breath of the Dead. How can it be that no one has noticed the slow, even rhythm of her breathing? No one sees the calculated cadency of her lungs, the way they breathe only because she knows it's something humans do?
Without wanting to, your hand comes forward and brushes the very edge of her top, right where skin meets cloth. And surprisingly, she's warm under your touch--- she has just fed, and the blood of her latest victim now runs through her veins as if it were her own.
"I knew you would like it. That is why I chose you."
Her breasts seem to be falling out of their confines. Tight and heaving against the diaphanous material of her clothing, you wonder how was it that you never noticed them before. And you can't stop staring at her even if you want to, because she draws you in, she calls you to her, and she relishes in making you loose control.
The more you look, the sexier she looks.
Enticing.
"I have seen the way you look at her, little one. I have heard your thoughts when you lay awake at night. You want her, do you not? You want this mortal body, and because you cannot have it, you want it all the more."
The demon tongue that speaks such true words is pure poison, but you do not have the strength or the will to deny them. Why would you, when those ice-like eyes bore holes into your soul? They can see you; really see you, as no one has ever seen you before. She knows your deep, dark secrets; those that you keep hidden even from yourself. And by exposing them to you, she's making you doubt yourself, making you acknowledge them and weakening you in the process.
You *have* wanted her for as long as you can remember. And now she's offering herself to you, and all you have to do is take it. Lean in, and take it.
With a horrified gasp, you snap out of it. No. This is not her. This--- this monster in front of you cannot be her. It was her innocence that drew you to her, her shyness and her kindness. Not her body. Then why aren't you turning away when her hand softly cradles your own and holds it atop her chest?
"Because you are only human. You cannot resist me, child, not when I am offering you everything you have ever wanted."
You shake your head, slowly, lazily, struggling against the magic she pours into you. She chuckles. And that one sound draws your gaze towards her mouth, which is now hovering directly above your own. A soft whisper reaches your ears, her breath tickling your cheeks...
"Delicious."
And then, she kisses you. Her red swollen lips brush over yours, before melding your mouths together in the most passionate kiss you've ever felt. And it is heaven to finally taste her, heaven to finally have her this close, even if its not really *her*. She has been a forbidden fruit for so long you cannot even remember since when, but now that she's here, now that you're drinking in from her luscious lips, you cannot seem to care.
Through a blur of mixed emotions of fear, pleasure and astonishment you can feel yourself surrendering to her, your treacherous hands holding her to you, keeping her there. Something within you breaks, and you are almost certain it's your heart because your chest now hurts.
It is her the one who breaks the kiss, her the one who steps back, and in your arms she's so small and child-like... ghostly pale and incredibly exquisite, she's like a frail china-doll and you long to caress her skin and have her moan your name. But it is not to be.
She holds your face in her hands and the ethereal pressure of her fingers against your cheeks is strangely soothing. "I have given you what you wish, little one. Now it is my turn to take that which I seek." You nod absently, the singularity of the situation evading your grasp. Without knowing it, you have given her the permission she needed, just as so many others had done before you. After all, when someone (or something) offers you that which you desire the most, it is only fitting you give something in return.
She pushes the cloth of your shirt away from that spot where your neck meets your shoulder and her fingertips brush the pulse throbbing underneath. Before you can understand what has just happened, she lunges forward and bites your throat, the bitter pain of her fangs piercing your skin coming out as a single scream. It soon dies out and changes first into a moan, then into a gasp, as the breathtaking feeling of your blood exiting your body and dancing in her mouth consumes you. Your right hand comes up and rests on her neck, not to push her away, but to keep her there.
You push forward, feeling her soft, cooling body against your own.
And you can *feel* life running through her, *your* life, your energy, granting her another day to walk among the living. And you don't mind, you don't care, because all there is left is the pleasure of her kiss, and the wonderful dizziness that grabs hold of you and sends any and all conscious thoughts spiraling into oblivion.
You can feel her lips widening in a wicked grin across the your neck--- and the blood thunders in your ears, your heart trying in vain to make up for the sudden loss of blood pressure. It's of no use.
Slowly, ever so slowly, her hands begin to work their magic in your body. And you moan weakly, again, trying uselessly to fight her perfidious influence over you. You are only human after all, and she is not. She plays you like a well-kept instrument, awakening feelings you never thought you had.
Bringing you to the edge of pleasure, and then back.
Several times, you moan in her ear and smell her scent of sea, wind and blood. But she will not complete it. Not until she decides she's ready.
"You taste sweet. I always pictured you as bitter chocolate."
Her voice is muffled by your blood drenching her mouth and you simply cling to her, needing---
"Now."
The word brings you even closer to the edge right as her fingers finish their work, and you feel yourself exploding, and letting go, and finally! Reaching that peak she denied you so many times. She bolts forward and sinks her fangs in your skin once again. She groans too at the sweet, addicting taste of your blood, through which your feelings run rampant. And you feel darkness taking a hold of you, coming through the edges of your vision, clouding your eyes--- and you are falling, falling down, into the darkness, into the black, and there's no pain and no pleasure, just the numbness of death.
The last thing you see, before your eyes roll on the back of your head and you fall limp from her grasp, is her satisfied smirk. But her eyes are sad and a single tear rolls down her cheek as she whispers your name, horrified at what she has been forced to do.
"I'm sorry, Mamoru."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Hey, Ami!"
A girl with blue hair and blue eyes turns around twirling in an almost perfect circle. There's a smile on her face and her pretty eyes seem to sparkle with the morning light. Another girl, with blonde hair and pigtails trailing behind her runs towards her.
"Hi there, Usagi."
Her voice is soft and quiet, as if she fears attracting attention to herself.
"Ami! Are you feeling better today?" asks the blonde one, Usagi, as she interlocks her arm around Ami's and they walk hand in hand out of Juuban High School. The blue haired girl, Ami, smiles softly; a bitter, cynic smile, and nods slowly.
"Indeed. Look, I'm much healthier now."
Usagi is by far too concerned eyeing her friend to notice the grim smile. Her eyes widen in merriment because she can see the changes in Ami, just as everyone else did at school today.
"You're right! Your cheeks, they're pink! And you look full of energy. It's like you recharged your batteries!"
As Usagi turns forward and drags the smaller girl behind, babbling some thing or another, she fails to notice the light dying in Ami's eyes and being replaced by something dark and hollow. She never sees the gleaming pair of fangs that protrude from Ami's gums, either, upon Usagi's mention of Mamoru and how he's taking her out this afternoon. She doesn't know her precious Prince is dead.
"You have no idea, Usagi. No idea at all."
***************************
The end.
*grin* I'm a wicked, wicked girl, aren't I? :0)
Summary: In a world of darkness, a lone stranger makes his last mistake.
Author: Lily.
Email: lilian413@yahoo.com
AN: This is the (very) revised version of a story by the same title posted at ff.net. Enjoy, and be sure to tell me what you think of it!
********************
Three AM.
The hour of witches. The time of the night when only the drunk and the whores are still awake. The hour of darkness. The time of fear... as the world sinks deeper into their slumber, a lonely figure interrupts the swift flow of darkness.
A figure of power.
A figure of energy.
Through the distance and among the night's mist, soft steps rebound on the ground. High heels...
tap, tap, tap...
Over and over, going on and on... filling the dark... opening the black...
As the figure walks closer, sudden fear creeps upon your heart. A hand of ice settles on the small of your back and as your heart stands stiff, you realize this feeling is far more than just fear: it's terror.
Terror from evil. The evil that's in the air.
Far off in the distance, some dog howls to the moon--- telling anyone who's wise enough to hear him to hide. To hide until this evil is long gone... but you don't obey.
You can't obey.
You're rooted to the floor, as your curiosity gets the better out of you. You need to know what's coming. You need to stare into the face of whoever is disrupting the natural flow of the night. As you look closely, you can make out some details from whoever is moving towards you. The air shimmers around the figure, adding glamour to its stance, but that is not what strikes you as odd.
... short hair...
... blue eyes...
... blue clothing...
With mind-stopping clarity, you recognize the figure as one of the Children of the Light. As a protector of the innocent, a fighter for Justice. You have seen her figure a thousand times before, striking a pose amidst a group of similar suited girls (nay, women).
And yet--- not.
Your very soul tells you something's wrong. The one in front of you is literally throbbing with evil and wickedness. Anyone who belongs to the Light irradiates good... and you feel paralyzed in terror. As much as you now want to move, to hide--- it's already too late. You've been caught in the spider's web and right now, you are the fly. Your mouth is dry and your heart beats a thousand times a minute, deafening you, swallowing you. Every single fiber from your body tells you to run and you try to, you really do... but you can't move. Your primal instinct of survival screams at you to *move it*! And then, suddenly, you can see her. As if the shadows have parted, she stares right back at you not five feet away, smiling. And that smile freezes you on the spot, keeps you still when you should be fleeing.
That smile is your undoing.
It does not reach her eyes. Her lips are curled in the sweetest grin you have ever seen, but it's not a happy smile. It's dead to the world, pretty much like she is. Her eyes are cold, so, so cold--- you can't help but shiver, as the ice creeps up your legs and you realize you are already lost.
As she draws near, gliding among the shadows as if she was one of them, you notice the two pointed fangs shinning under the moonlight. They catch the light of the fair asteroid and reflect it as if mirrors they were, and bedazzle you to the point of no return... dripping with blood... The tiny rivulets of the crimson liquid making their way down her chin should fill your heart with fear. They should alert you of what's going to happen and you should be screaming right about now. Instead, you simply let loose a sigh as one droplet of blood falls from her dainty chin unto the awaiting floor.
Detached, you wonder who she has eaten. Another unsuspecting victim caught on their way home, maybe? Or a planned hunt? A careful watch kept over them, knowing they can feel her but not see her, stalking them to the point of madness and then striking as fast and swift as lightning?
When she speaks, any and all thoughts are chased away from your head and you find yourself drawn to her, as if hearing her speak was the single most pleasurable thing in the world. Her voice is seductive, and oozes around you, inside you, consuming you--- "You are next."
You want to close your eyes, but the vision in front of you is so horrible and at the same time so angelic, you can't. If you close your eyes, you wouldn't be able to see her and you want to go watching her... it doesn't take a genius to realize these are her thoughts and not yours. *She* doesn't want you to look away, hence, you cannot. She brushes her gloved hand against the soft skin of your cheek and you lean into it like a cat does into a caress. Her smile turns wider and sharper, and your face feels chilled once her fingers move away.
"So eager, little one."
Shame washes over you like a flood and invades your innermost corners like they didn't even exist. And suddenly you know these are not your feelings, just as those weren't your thoughts. She mourns the girl she once was, but nothing betrays the storm within her when she softly tilts your head to the side. Not a halt in her step, not a shiver in her hand--- silent, efficient and business-like... she doesn't want to do this but it is in her nature now, as much a part of her as the power she is using to keep your feet iced into the floor.
She licks her lips slowly, her pink-colored tongue coming out of her ruby-red lips and drawing a perfect arch against them. Something in the way she's touching you allows her mind to connect with yours and you can see what has happened, you can see the self-disgust at her lack of control and how she cries every morning when she wakes with her lips tinted in blood and her clothing ragged and torn. Another night scouting the city for nourishment, another victim that fell under her call.
She has changed, changed so much that if one were to look under the faint sheen of normality she keeps wrapped around herself like a cloak, one would never believe what lay hidden. Corrupted and tainted by Evil, an evil so ancient, so timeless, it has no name and speaks no language. And she was taken, right under everyone's noses, drifting off into the dark. She is a Daughter of Darkness now. She no longer belongs to the world of the living... she walks the streets at night, fighting against the demon that now resides within her soul and failing every time. She cannot tell them. She has tried, God has she tried, and every time, she has been stopped. The demon in her wants to survive and hinders her attempts at revealing the truth to her friends.
The connection breaks suddenly as she realizes she has revealed too much. For a split second its as if she will let you go, her eyes soften to the point that in them you can recognize the girl she once was... it vanishes under the pressure of the feeding and becomes nothing more than a memory.
"She lies deep within me now, little one. She is but a memory, coming forth when I let her. Do not expect her to save you... she could not save herself."
The demon that speaks through her lips and uses her voice to deliver such ominous threats relishes in the burst of horror that spears you. Blinking rapidly, trying to clear your eyes from the mist that creeps into them every time you look at her in the eye, you focus on something (anything!) else. And her skin beckons you, and you stare at it with such energy one can't help but wonder if you haven't seen skin before.
And in a way, they are right. You have never seen skin like this one before... she is so pale, Gods, so pale!, she's like marble against you. And she shines with a light of her own, so unnatural, so *wrong*, tears come to your eyes. As if lead by an invisible hand, your eyes turn down and watch with morbid curiosity the way her chest rises and falls with the breath of the Dead. How can it be that no one has noticed the slow, even rhythm of her breathing? No one sees the calculated cadency of her lungs, the way they breathe only because she knows it's something humans do?
Without wanting to, your hand comes forward and brushes the very edge of her top, right where skin meets cloth. And surprisingly, she's warm under your touch--- she has just fed, and the blood of her latest victim now runs through her veins as if it were her own.
"I knew you would like it. That is why I chose you."
Her breasts seem to be falling out of their confines. Tight and heaving against the diaphanous material of her clothing, you wonder how was it that you never noticed them before. And you can't stop staring at her even if you want to, because she draws you in, she calls you to her, and she relishes in making you loose control.
The more you look, the sexier she looks.
Enticing.
"I have seen the way you look at her, little one. I have heard your thoughts when you lay awake at night. You want her, do you not? You want this mortal body, and because you cannot have it, you want it all the more."
The demon tongue that speaks such true words is pure poison, but you do not have the strength or the will to deny them. Why would you, when those ice-like eyes bore holes into your soul? They can see you; really see you, as no one has ever seen you before. She knows your deep, dark secrets; those that you keep hidden even from yourself. And by exposing them to you, she's making you doubt yourself, making you acknowledge them and weakening you in the process.
You *have* wanted her for as long as you can remember. And now she's offering herself to you, and all you have to do is take it. Lean in, and take it.
With a horrified gasp, you snap out of it. No. This is not her. This--- this monster in front of you cannot be her. It was her innocence that drew you to her, her shyness and her kindness. Not her body. Then why aren't you turning away when her hand softly cradles your own and holds it atop her chest?
"Because you are only human. You cannot resist me, child, not when I am offering you everything you have ever wanted."
You shake your head, slowly, lazily, struggling against the magic she pours into you. She chuckles. And that one sound draws your gaze towards her mouth, which is now hovering directly above your own. A soft whisper reaches your ears, her breath tickling your cheeks...
"Delicious."
And then, she kisses you. Her red swollen lips brush over yours, before melding your mouths together in the most passionate kiss you've ever felt. And it is heaven to finally taste her, heaven to finally have her this close, even if its not really *her*. She has been a forbidden fruit for so long you cannot even remember since when, but now that she's here, now that you're drinking in from her luscious lips, you cannot seem to care.
Through a blur of mixed emotions of fear, pleasure and astonishment you can feel yourself surrendering to her, your treacherous hands holding her to you, keeping her there. Something within you breaks, and you are almost certain it's your heart because your chest now hurts.
It is her the one who breaks the kiss, her the one who steps back, and in your arms she's so small and child-like... ghostly pale and incredibly exquisite, she's like a frail china-doll and you long to caress her skin and have her moan your name. But it is not to be.
She holds your face in her hands and the ethereal pressure of her fingers against your cheeks is strangely soothing. "I have given you what you wish, little one. Now it is my turn to take that which I seek." You nod absently, the singularity of the situation evading your grasp. Without knowing it, you have given her the permission she needed, just as so many others had done before you. After all, when someone (or something) offers you that which you desire the most, it is only fitting you give something in return.
She pushes the cloth of your shirt away from that spot where your neck meets your shoulder and her fingertips brush the pulse throbbing underneath. Before you can understand what has just happened, she lunges forward and bites your throat, the bitter pain of her fangs piercing your skin coming out as a single scream. It soon dies out and changes first into a moan, then into a gasp, as the breathtaking feeling of your blood exiting your body and dancing in her mouth consumes you. Your right hand comes up and rests on her neck, not to push her away, but to keep her there.
You push forward, feeling her soft, cooling body against your own.
And you can *feel* life running through her, *your* life, your energy, granting her another day to walk among the living. And you don't mind, you don't care, because all there is left is the pleasure of her kiss, and the wonderful dizziness that grabs hold of you and sends any and all conscious thoughts spiraling into oblivion.
You can feel her lips widening in a wicked grin across the your neck--- and the blood thunders in your ears, your heart trying in vain to make up for the sudden loss of blood pressure. It's of no use.
Slowly, ever so slowly, her hands begin to work their magic in your body. And you moan weakly, again, trying uselessly to fight her perfidious influence over you. You are only human after all, and she is not. She plays you like a well-kept instrument, awakening feelings you never thought you had.
Bringing you to the edge of pleasure, and then back.
Several times, you moan in her ear and smell her scent of sea, wind and blood. But she will not complete it. Not until she decides she's ready.
"You taste sweet. I always pictured you as bitter chocolate."
Her voice is muffled by your blood drenching her mouth and you simply cling to her, needing---
"Now."
The word brings you even closer to the edge right as her fingers finish their work, and you feel yourself exploding, and letting go, and finally! Reaching that peak she denied you so many times. She bolts forward and sinks her fangs in your skin once again. She groans too at the sweet, addicting taste of your blood, through which your feelings run rampant. And you feel darkness taking a hold of you, coming through the edges of your vision, clouding your eyes--- and you are falling, falling down, into the darkness, into the black, and there's no pain and no pleasure, just the numbness of death.
The last thing you see, before your eyes roll on the back of your head and you fall limp from her grasp, is her satisfied smirk. But her eyes are sad and a single tear rolls down her cheek as she whispers your name, horrified at what she has been forced to do.
"I'm sorry, Mamoru."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Hey, Ami!"
A girl with blue hair and blue eyes turns around twirling in an almost perfect circle. There's a smile on her face and her pretty eyes seem to sparkle with the morning light. Another girl, with blonde hair and pigtails trailing behind her runs towards her.
"Hi there, Usagi."
Her voice is soft and quiet, as if she fears attracting attention to herself.
"Ami! Are you feeling better today?" asks the blonde one, Usagi, as she interlocks her arm around Ami's and they walk hand in hand out of Juuban High School. The blue haired girl, Ami, smiles softly; a bitter, cynic smile, and nods slowly.
"Indeed. Look, I'm much healthier now."
Usagi is by far too concerned eyeing her friend to notice the grim smile. Her eyes widen in merriment because she can see the changes in Ami, just as everyone else did at school today.
"You're right! Your cheeks, they're pink! And you look full of energy. It's like you recharged your batteries!"
As Usagi turns forward and drags the smaller girl behind, babbling some thing or another, she fails to notice the light dying in Ami's eyes and being replaced by something dark and hollow. She never sees the gleaming pair of fangs that protrude from Ami's gums, either, upon Usagi's mention of Mamoru and how he's taking her out this afternoon. She doesn't know her precious Prince is dead.
"You have no idea, Usagi. No idea at all."
***************************
The end.
*grin* I'm a wicked, wicked girl, aren't I? :0)