Entries from December 2003 ↓

I first saw her standings there, on the third floor balcony. Her auborn hair flowing with the relentless breeze, and dim lights illuminated her small figure from behind, inside the apartment. Her face was tilted towards the sky, eyes dark with sorrow. It was nights like those I couldn’t help but wish I weren’t me. All I could do was stand there, in the shadows, staring at her, attracted by the pain she felt, the longing to belong somewhere, but not knowing where.
Somehow it was different this time, though. I didn’t want to hurt her like all the others, she was so beautiful standing there, her skin so pale, lips so full. I watched her for what seemed like a long time before forcing myself to leave, for she was now gazing around the streets, eyes darting to every shadow, as if searching for something - or someone - when I left
That morning, which was actually this morning, I had only a short while to find a place to sleep for the day, having watched her for so long. I headed towards the old cemetary, after realizing I wouldnt make it back to my usual place by sunup, and ended up in an old krypt that had long been forgotten;that girl still in my thoughts. Today was the first day I dreamed in more than a centuary and she haunted them. As I reacall, I was back in the shadows by her apartment, only this time she was standing infront of me. Her eyes were now completely black, her face even paler than before, and she seemed different, as if her mind had found what it was looking for, as if she were no longer human. She seemed to be silently calling out to me. “Let me walk with you. I finally ofund you, don’t turn me away,” I kept hearing. Her mind calling and calling, begging me to take her with me. That was the last I remeber before I woke up, and even then, I felt weak as if I were sitll in the dream.
Well, I guess I should now expose myself as well, wouldn’t you say? Well, first off, I’m William, and as you’ve probably figured out already, I’m not quite like your kind. You see, I have this thing - sometimes it’s a gift, other times it’s a curse - all my life, and what a long life it’s been - six hundred years to be exact - and not to be ended. Some would refer to me as a monster, otheres would call me more along the lines of a vampire. I, myself have spent the last four centuaries alone. I haven’t even had the slightest interest in a partner, but there is certainly something about this girl that I can’t exactly put my finger on. She’s not like other people, that’s for sure, I just don’t know what it is about her. Her mind is certainly stonger than any I’ve ever encountered.

In my head

These words wont go away

So many things I want to say

Though its time for my way

You say it will be ok

I say it wont be that way

Return to me death

Screaming pain, flowing torment

I lay here on the floor

Scarlet everywhere

Crying here, torn apart

Emotions raging, bleeding heart

To many bad memories to cart

I gave up everything

To be in your heart

You gave me shit and ripped me apart

I’ve had enough, its time to go

Leave me alone

And be with your hoe

Rip her apart

Like you did me

Stop hitting me, it burns

Lying here

Silver object pointing near

Last breath so dear

look what you did, not much to fear

I’m close my eyes

Hope for the best

And not a bunch of lies

I point it to my chest, red flows

You could of guess

I am gone because of you

And finally hate you less

The desert was a vast and lonely place at noon. She knew that all of the royals were currently in a meeting about her. They were trying to decide her fate as a wife to some royal from a distant land. Gazing out of the ornately carved window, Jazlyn looked down at the people she would one day govern.
She stepped onto the balcony. Walking to the railing she had an amazing view of nothing. Just the vast and empty sands of the desert. They were currently in the middle of building the pyramids that would serve as tombs for both the royal family and the peasants.
Looking down, she noticed an oddly dressed peasant. Instead of the beige dress robes the peasants usually wore, he was wearing black. She studied him for a moment, until he passed from her line of sight. Intrigued by this oddly dressed man, she slipped into the common clothing she had stolen from a few of her servants and exited through a secret passageway she had had privately installed by a few well paid slaves.
As Jazlyn exited the door she had made the slaves mark ‘Forbidden’, she saw the dark man turn a corner. Keeping always a few steps behind him, she followed him through the winding twists and turns at the heart of the commonplace. She did manage to note a few items she would want one of her more loyal slaves to fetch for her. It would look too odd if she asked the normal slaves to get them.
It did not take very long for her to arrive at the location he had been heading for. He turned into a small shop. She didn’t recognize him, although that was not uncommon. The way these shops came and went, it was hard to know everyone by sight, let alone name.
Jazlyn snared quite a few gazes from the common people. They had given her the name, ‘Peasant of Beauty’, for none of them knew her true name. She walked through the doorway of the shop. Unlike most of these places, this one had a woman for a master and the young man was the apprentice.
She began looking at the odd objects she saw gleaming upon many tables and racks. The weapons she saw were unlike any others her Egypt had ever seen. Most of her slaves would probably never want to see them anyway. Jazlyn studied all of the weapons. The blades gleamed sinisterly, and the whips looked much less friendly than a desert snake that had missed a few meals.
She picked up one on the whips. It was braided silver, with one strand of gold weaved throughout it. She looked at the twin barbs at the end of the whip. They each had shards of metal embedded into them. This whip was specially designed to tear into the flesh of disobediant slaves.
Jazlyn saw the young apprentice standing in the doorway. She looked up at the master of the shop. “May I?” She inquired.
The master looked at her and nodded. Jazlyn turned and caught the mans eye as she cracked the whip harshly against the floor. When the young man failed to flinch, she raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Are you not afraid boy?”
He looked at her coldly. “No, I could never fear such beauty, no matter how dangerous the weapon she holds.”
Jazlyn prayed that her skills with a whip had not withered away in the time she had not practiced. Without warning she craked the whip expertly over her head and then let it snake around the young mans neck. The twin barbs lay at the collar of the dark shirt he wore.
As she unwound the whip from the young mans neck, she said, “Beauty is a cold thing. Fear it.” She turned to the master. “How much?”
The master looked at her, a smile playing at her lips. She too wore odd clothing. “Royalty never pays here. Take it.”
Dumbfounded, Jazlyn nodded once. Angry that these odd peasants had seen through her disguise, she walked toward the doorway. The young man stepped aside to let her pass. He watched her as she shouldered her way through the marketplace, not caring who she tripped or what their business was.
Succumbing to curiosity, he followed her through the dusty streets ot the marketplace. He didn’t bother keeping a great distance, she was too preoccupied with herself to notice anything else. He followed her until she came to a door marked ‘Forbidden’. This would usually deter anyone, but she walked right up to the door and entered it, shutting it behind her.
He smiled.
***********************************************************************************************
Jagger was restlessly pacing his room when Syane came in. She watched him for a few moments, so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice her immediately. When he did, had instantly assumed a position of defense.
Syane smiled. Jagger relaxed himself enough to continue pacing. “If you want her that badly, you know what you have to do.”
Jagger looked at her with annoyance. The fact that she could read his mind irritated him still, even after all these years. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do that.” He replied crossly.
“Jagger, it has been centuries, and you still have yet to change someone.”
“I know.” He snapped, walking toward his collection of weapons. He chose his favorite knife from the immense rack of them.
Crafted centuries ago by one of the first shape-shifters, its blade could kill even a vampire. Careful not to touch the sharp edge, Jagger grabbed the knife by the point and threw it at the wall. It landed dead center, exactly as he had expected it to.
Syane did not take her eyes off of her fledgling to see if he had hit his mark. She simply followed his movements across the room. “You know what you have to do.” She said simply.
Finally losing his patience, Jagger replied curtly, “I’m going for a walk.” as he began to disappear.
Syane smiled as she said, “Wouldn’t going for a walk imply that you were actually walking?”
As if on cue, Jaggers laughter resounded in her mind. “You know me so well Syane.”
As his voice faded away, Syane turned her mind toward more pressing matters.

Walking along the empty street of the marketplace, Jagger sought his next meal. It did not take him long to find it. He soon came upon the man who had offended his blood mother. He took threats to Syane seriously, and his anger could use a good outlet. Coming up behind him, Jagger grabbed the man by his throat. Not bothering to ease the pain of having his blood drawn through his veins, Jagger fed from the man.
He sank his fangs into the mans neck as roughly as he could. Normally he would send the person he fed off of to a distant place in their own mind where they would not feel the pain of dying. The man started to cry out, but Jagger quickly silenced him.
Suddenly Jagger felt a presence behind him. Tossing the dead man away, he turned, only to realize he stood face to face with the royal he had encountered earlier. She held the whip he had delicately forged in her right hand. Eyes wide, she stared, bewildered and disgusted. He didn’t know what overpowered him then, but he had the darkest desire to change her. To make her forever his.
He called out to her mind, willing her forward. She obliged, she was helpless to do otherwise. She never cried out, only when he bit into her neck did she come alive, a spark shocking her into action. She fought him, fought him with everything she had, but as the life was drained away, she became too weak.
Pulling away, Jagger raised his wrist to his lips and tore the flesh from his veins. Placing it against her lips, he tried to force her to drink the blood that poured forth. Thrashing wildly, she refused. Anger settled into him and he held her head still with his free arm. He placed his wrist once more to her lips, and she had no choice but to comply.
She passed out. Jagger looked down at her. Watching her stop breathing was odd, hearing her heart stop beating even more so. She was still alive though. If you could call what she had become alive…

Jazlyn restlessly paced the confines of her room. She had spent all day daydreaming. At dinner that night, she could barely keep her mind on the royal she was supposed to be sucking up to, to put it simply. Her parents wanted the riches he had, as well as all of the land he held in his possesion.
Jazlyn didn’t much care about any of it anyway. So as night began to fall over her homeland, she once again started down the secret passageway to the deserted marketplace.
Excitement grew within her. She hadn’t felt like this in years, sneaking out to see a man she didn’t even know. As her excitement grew, she began to run down the stairway, hoping that her royal robes would not be the death of her. She burst through the door marked ‘Forbidden’, and came to an immediate halt in the street.
There stood the apprentice, a man in his grasp. As she watched, the apprentice seemed to kiss the mans neck, but as her vision adjusted to the lack of light, she realized that this was no ordinary kiss, it was a kiss of death.
As if sensing her mere presence, the young apprentice turned around. He looked at her intently, and as he did, she felt compelled to move forward. Into the arms of death itself. She felt the touch of his mind upon hers, an eerie feeling at best. The whip she had absent mindedly carried with her hung limply from her hand.
Jazlyn no longer cared. The simple task of existing had ceased to become a necessity. She simply was. As his fangs broke her skin however, she began to thrash wildly, knowing that to give up now meant certain death. As he drew the life from her veins, she grew steadily weaker. Unable to fight any longer, she collapsed.
Held up only by the young apprentice, she watched him tear his own flesh from his wrist through a fog of uncertainty. Jazlyn felt him place the torn wrist to her lips, and almost accepted what he had to offer. Her wit returning, she struggled, only succeeding in having him pin her to the dusty road of the commonplace.
Then all she felt were the black curtains of life closing around her. It seemed that her life as she knew it had ended. How she longed to be back in the palace with that retched royal…
***********************************************************************************************
He threw the rag down at her feet. “Clean yourself up.” Said a deep voice. Jazlyn stared at the rag that blood had long since stained orange. Kicking it away in disgust, Jazlyn tried to stand, only to fail and slump to the floor.
“What did I do to deserve this?” she thought, trying to see in a room of intense darkness.
“You didn’t do anything wrong…yet.” Came a voice from the far end of the room.
Trying to stand again, Jazlyn succeeded and braced herself against the wall. “Who are you?” she snapped, taking a tentative step towards the voice.
“That is unimportant right now. We will make introductions later, but right now you need to feed.” stepping out of the gloom, Jazlyn cought a glimpse of a tall, black haired man.
“What do you mean feed?” she asked, trying to sound calm. Opening a door, he stepped over the threshhold, letting dazzling light fill the room, which Jazlyn saw was filled with mirrors. Stepping towards her own reflection, Jazlyn saw there was something very wrong with the way she looked.
Her plain brown hair had turned midnight black, and her already milky skin had turned even more pale. Her emerald eyes had turned totaly black, and they no longer looked like her eyes staring back at her. She felt taller as she glided towards the open door. Steping into the light of another room, she saw two men in deep conversation. Looking at the short, red-haired boy, she dismissed him with a wave of her hand, striding towards the black haired man. As she stood toe to toe with him, she demanded answers.
“Calm down Jazlyn” he said placidly, placing his hand on her arm. Yanking her arm out of his grip she demanded to know where they were. “You are in Mekka.” Jagger said simply, as if it was nothing important.
Jazlyn turned in a fit of rage. Unleashing her rampant anger she whirled back toward the mirrors. A silver vase stood on top of an immense table. The table itself glowed with a sinister brightness, radiating the reflected light off of its ebony marble surface. She grabbed the vase and turned toward Jagger. “If you do not give me the answers I…” She stopped. Jagger? Who was Jagger? Ignoring the thought she began her sentance again. “If you do not give me the answers I seek, I will smash every mirror you have so delicately placed upon these walls.”
Jagger looked alarmed quite suddenly. His alarm gave way to amusement and he stepped forward. “Give me the vase Jazlyn. You would not want to destroy the artifacts my mother Syane has so patiently collected over the centuries now would you?”
Jazlyn brought herself to her full height. “Jagger! I want the answers now! Tell me what I wish to know!” She turned away again, and in doing so, released the heavy silver vase.
It hit the first mirror with a scream of metal upon glass. The glass fell in slow motion to the hardwood floor. As it hit, it made soft tinkling noises, as a chime would make swaying in a gentle wind.
Jagger stood still, rooted to the spot by his anger. Unable to contain himself any longer, he launched his lithe frame at Jazlyn. His beloved, his death, his pain. He grabbed her by the throat, pinning her against broken shards of glass. “Never, never, do that, ever again. If you do, you will wish I had let you die in the street as a mongrel.” He snarled.
Jazlyn let out a hiss of pain as the glass bit into her neck and back. She managed to wheeze out a reply. “I would have rather died in the street a mongrel, than ever be here in this wretched place with you.”
Jagger released her, wearing a sinister smile. Jazlyn had never felt such a rage well up inside of her. She could not find the control she needed to stop herself from commiting an insanely stupid act. She roared in anger, throwing herself at Jagger with every ounce of power she had ever harbored, every hateful word she had ever held back from anyone. She would no longer be a puppet, a mindless animal for people to amuse themselves with.
She whirled Jagger around so that his back was to the mirrored walls and slammed him into the broken mirror she had been pinned to moments before. “Never, ever, treat me like a mindless animal Jagger. I will haunt your life for as long as you will ever roam these lands. And no matter where you go, pain will follow.”
Jagger threw Jazlyn away. “You are losing your strength, you must feed.” Jagger grabbed her by the wrist. Before Jazlyn could pull away, they were in a different place, the air dense with moisture.
“W-w-where are we?” Jazlyn stuttered, too confused by the sudden change in location to care how pathetic she sounded.
“We are on the outskirts of your kingdom. You need to feed, or you will die.”
You need to feed or you will die. It was as simple as that. The words echoed in Jazlyns mind. Feed or die, feed or die. Wasn’t she already dead? She was thrown from her thoughts by Jaggers sudden movement. In mere seconds he had captured his prey.
Dark skinned, the girl was no older than Jazlyn. At the touch of Jaggers mind she was subdued. Quiet and still for the moment.
Jagger lifted the girls wrist as Jazlyn watched him. He pressed one delicate fang into the girls tender flesh. A single jewel of blood blossomed forth, trembling on her wrist as if trying to return to the bloodstream it had been pulled from.
As Jazlyn watched a group of children walk past, she wondered why they didn’t see what was happening.
As if answering her thought Jagger explained. “I am influencing their minds so that they notice nothing unusual. You too will be able to preform this task once you have fed and are properly trained.”
Suddenly a metallic copper scent filled Jazlyns sinuses. She threw her head towards the girl that lay suspended in Jaggers arms. The droplet of blood was running down her arm. Suddenly overcome with the need to taste this substance, Jazlyn moved forward toward Jagger.
He saw the bloodlust in Jazlyns eyes and held the girl out to her. Within moments she was piercing through the girls neck with her milky fangs. She began to draw the life from the girl.
As if suddenly aware of her surroundings, the girl came alive in Jazlyns arms.
Jazlyn looked down, surprised at the sudden movement of the supposedly unconscious girl. In seconds, the girl had drawn a blade from a sheath that had previously hung at her hip. Jazlyn cried out in alarm as the knife grazed the tender flesh of the underside of her forearm.
Acting on instinct, Jazlyn dropped the girl and retreated away from her, only managing to corner herself. Suddenly, the girl roared with an unholy rage and changed before Jazlyns very eyes. Shifted was a more proper word, but nothing so mundane had ever been seen at the palace, and now was not the time for proper descriptions.
Where a lithe girl once stood on two legs, now a Leopard crouched on four. Poised to spring forward and catch Jazlyns throat in her wicked fangs, the Leopard leapt into the air. Seeming to glide over the air, as did a snake through the papyrus, the Leopard hit Jazlyn squarely in the chest.
Before the demon could administer the death sentence, Jagger leapt into action. Hurling himself at the creature, he drew the knife that long ago had been forged by the species that now assaulted Jazlyn. With one swipe, Jagger cut the agile cats underside. The wound was meant to kill, but in all of his red tinted anger, he missed his mark by inches.
Roaring in rage, the Leopard turned, running into the darkness of Egypt’s desert, long deserted by the suns rays. Jagger turned to Jazlyn. She was staring at the underside of her arm in astonishment. The cut that had surprised her out of feeding a moment ago had vanished. As if she had never been slashed by the weapon of a vicious shape-shifter.
Jazlyn looked up to see Jagger staring at her. As if light had just been shed on the situation at hand, Jazlyn gaped at him. “You tried to kill me.”
“What? No! I’m sorry that this happened Jazlyn, you see, shape-shifters have extremely strong mental shields against vampires. When their shields are up, they look and seem to think as would a normal human. I thought she was nothing more than a slave girl when I chose her for you to feed off of. I was wrong.” Jagger looked at Jazlyn, the look she read there was the closest thing she thought she would ever get to sincerity. “Please forgive me.”
Jazlyn scowled. “Why should I? You nearly got me killed…” She added a bitter afterthought, “Or got me killed again anyway.”
Jagger too scowled. “You’d think you would thank me for saving your life, and then apologizing for a mistake I made. Instead, here you stand, anger written across your countenance, telling me that my apology is not accepted.”
“I never said your apology was not accepted, and I didn’t think it either.” Jazlyn said, a smile beginning to play at the outer corners of her lips.
Jagger strode forward, grabbing Jazyln by her wrists. “Now, I think we had better find you someone to dine with before you die of starvation.” He said, sarcasm dripping off of his words the way poison drips off the fangs of an Egyptian cobra.
“Perhaps I dine off of you, and then establish my rank in your lovely little rat trap instead?” Jazlyn said sweetly, although her words rang as false as did the bells of centuries to come.
Jagger laughed, a note of happiness he had not expressed so freely in years. “Come Jazlyn, you have much to learn.”
The two of them faded from sight, leaving the shadows to themselves, their dark whispers hiding the story of what had happened this night. By morning, the whole of Egypt would be looking for the lost princess, but not one would ever see the jewel of the morning ever again. She had merely faded from existence as so many of her ancestors had done. Not with age, but with an eternity stretched out before her.

Concord, Massachusetts 2003
Jazlyn roamed the familiar streets of Concord, Massachusetts. She had long since forgotten the anxiety of moving to a new home. As far as she was concerned, this was home. It was about dusk, and she was on the prowl for her next meal. She normally didn’t prey on the people in her own neighborhood, but she had waited way to long to feed, and didn’t have the time or energy to fade from one existence into another.
As she was moving among darkened alleys, Jazlyn noticed a young boy. He could be no older than fourteen, and no younger than eleven. Easing herself into his mind, she realized that he was homeless.
Perfect. Jazlyn thought to herself. They would think he had merely died at the hands of some drug addict or another. She came up behind him soundlessly, as her arm snaked around the young boys neck, she subdued his minds with thoughts of tropical places, far from the world in which he now lived.
As Jazlyn bent to take the life from the boy’s veins, she caught a glimpse of a horrifying past. The boy’s father had committed suicide when his son was only eight years old. The boy had found his father, suspended from a rafter in his parents’ bedroom. A few months later his mother began to develop into a heavy cocaine user.
She spent every penny they had on cocaine, and soon they were out in the streets. She had used this boy; Christopher was his name, to get money for her addiction. She had eventually died of an overdose, leaving Christopher to fend for himself in this unusually cruel world.
Jazlyn stepped away from the boy, pity open in her usually blank eyes. He blinked, once, twice, to clear the fog from his mind. Jazlyn knelt down so that she was at eye level with the boy.
vampgoddessraven: “You have no home?” She asked, a note of concern in her voice. The boy merely shook his head. He had obviously been traumatized by the entire ordeal. Jazlyn pried at him. “What’s your name?” She asked, although she already knew the answer.
“Christopher.” He gave only a first name, nothing more. Just Christopher. Jazlyn realized that she was not influencing the boys mind. He did not flinch or recoil from her presence though, as did so many other humans she had encountered.
“Would you like to come home with me Christopher?” Jazlyn asked softly, not wanting to, but feeling a strange tug at her long unbeaten heart.
The boy looked at her then. Studied her eyes with an intensity she had not expected of a twelve year old. He was only twelve. Not trusting of this new stranger, Christopher turned and fled. Sighing, Jazlyn chased after him. She knew what he must be thinking, ‘great, another person to abuse me.’
She caught him quickly, and took his arm firmly but gently in her hand. “Christopher, I don’t mean you any harm. You have nowhere to go, and you’ll die of malnutrition before another person offers to take you in. Besides, if you don’t like it with me, we can find another more suitable home for you. Ok?”
Again he stared into her eyes, so intent that Jazlyn nearly blinked in surprise. After a few minutes of this staring contest, Christopher nodded, timidly, warily, but a yes none-the-less.
Jazlyn smiled. “You have to do me one favor first. Promise me you will stay right here, and not move until I get back. Ok?”
Christopher nodded again. He had nowhere else to go anyway. He watched Jazlyn turn the corner. He sat on the ground and wondered how bad it would be, how long they would keep him before they too threw him out into the cold and lonely streets of Concord.
Jagger sat at the table, worry etched across his brow. Jazlyn had not come home the night before, nor had he seen her that day. As he began to pace he saw visions of her lying somewhere, colder than his very heart.
Shaking his head, Jagger dismissed the thought. Jazlyn was far too strong to become prey. Unless Kayla herself had gotten a hold of her anyway. As if on cue, Syane materialized in front of the table Jagger occupied. He smiled in greeting. As he looked up however, his smile immediately faded away.
“What is it Syane? You look as if someone drove a stake through your heart.” He said it lightly, but it hid a darker emotion.
“Ha, if it was that simple, it would have been done a long time ago.” She spat bitterly. “No, it is worse I am afraid. Far worse.”
Worse? Jagger did not think that anything could be worse than someone stabbing a stake through his beloved mothers heart. “What is it then? You know I have yet to read your well concealed mind.”
Syane snorted. “We have had two deaths in the past day. The first, Aryn’s fledgling Xavier, was killed at the hands of one of Kayla’s assassins. One of her more violent assassins at that.” Syane growled angrily.
“That’s only one. Who is the other?” Jagger inquired, sensing that this was going to take a turn for the worse.
“Arlita, my own fledgling.” Syane all but hissed through gritted teeth. “She died not by the hands of one of Kayla’s assassins, but by Kayla herself.”
Kayla was the leader of the most powerful clan of witches. Powerful and hateful, she harbored a terrible anger toward all of the Vampiric world. Kayla’s one goal in life seemed to be to destroy all of the vampires in existence. Close to impossible, but Syane and Jagger both knew that Kayla would give it a good try.
Jagger could feel the anger well up inside of him. He himself had been directly affected by the deaths. Or at least one of them anyway. Arlita had been his only blood sister. They rarely saw each other, but they were closer than most human brothers and sisters would ever get. “Well? Do we just stand here and let her death go unpunished, or do we stand up and fight these worthless mongrels?”
“We wait. We must bide our time, and hopefully the winds will change to favor us. Until that time however, you must tend to Jazlyn and your new charge.” Syane said, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her blood red mouth.
“My new charge?” Jagger inquired. “What does that mean?”
“The story is not mine to tell. You will see soon enough.” With that last word Syane faded from the room, just as Jazlyn walked into it.
“Jazlyn! Where have you been? Kayla has been killing again, what if she had gotten to you?” Jagger scolded.
Jazlyn raised an eyebrow. “I’d have ripped her head off and hung it on a stake in front of their encampment.” She said lightly, although Jagger could detect the seriousness she held in an undertone.
Jagger looked at her closely. He sensed that she was hiding something, something she was not yet ready to tell him. Without thinking he asked her.
“What do you mean what am I hiding? I hide nothing from you.” Jazlyn replied in that silky voice she had become so accustomed to using when she wanted something.
“Well, if you aren’t hiding something, then you most definitely want something.” He snapped.
Jazlyn looked at him. “Well, if you must know,” she said as she turned around, “Wait one minute and I’ll show you.”
It was Jaggers turn to raise and eyebrow. Show him? Meaning that she had already gotten what she wanted and needed approval? He sat back in his chair, waiting for Anubis-knew-what.
When Jazlyn returned, she was toting a young boy behind her. Reaching into the child’s mind, the first thing he saw was his father’s suicide, his mother’s horrid addiction. The next thing he saw was the boy himself, homeless and walking the lowest streets of Concord. He also learned that the boy was twelve.
Jagger looked at Jazlyn. “So? What do you want me to do with him?”
Jazlyn too used her gift for telepathy so that Christopher would be spared the argument she knew was coming. “He has nowhere to go. I want to keep him.”
Jagger looked at the boy, then at Jazlyn, a cold smile playing on her lips. “Then change him.”
“No.” It was simple; Jazlyn would not have the boy changed. She turned and looked at Christopher. “Sweetie, I know this is going to sound strange, but you have to do something for me.”
Christopher looked up at her, fragile trust hanging in the balance between them. “What?” The boy asked timidly, so quietly that Jazlyn almost couldn’t hear him.
“I need you to take this little knife here,” Jazlyn handed him the knife. “And cut my arm right here.” She pointed to the top of her forearm.
Christopher looked at her strangely, but did as she had asked. Jagger had realized what she was doing only seconds before she actually did it. “You ungrateful wench. You let him cut you so that you would have blood-claim. Damn you right to hell Jazlyn!”
Blood-Claim was a vampire’s way of getting revenge. If a human harmed a vampire by chance, the human then became the vampires own. No one could change or harm the human in any way, or the vampire that the blood-claim was owed to would kill the violator with no compunction. In the vampire world, it was not illegal to kill another vampire, but more often than not it was considered low. Yet there are always those little exceptions.
Jazlyn smiled. “I’ve already got a one way ticket. Come on Christopher, I’ll show you to your new room.”
With that, she was gone, showing Christopher around his house. Jagger could not stand humans, but human children? That was even worse.
Christopher had been waiting in the hallway when Jazlyn came to get him. She had proven to be kind and gentle with him, so he had developed a trust in her. When she brought him into the parlor however, he knew who she had been talking to.
A man sat before a large table, looking at Jazlyn with a mild curiosity. When he saw Chris however, his already black eyes got darker still. He was obviously tall, with dark eyes and black hair. He had a milky complexion and a mouth that seemed never to smile.
He did not like this man. Chris was usually a very obedient boy, one who would jump at any command, but he knew that he would never obey this man. Dislike and hatred had a fine line between them. His feelings for this man were on that fine line.
While he had been immersed in his thoughts, he had not noticed anything else, including if they had been talking or if they had, what had been said. He had only been snapped out of his thoughts by Jazlyn.
She asked him to take a small knife she had offered and cut her forearm. Startled, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. He trusted Jazlyn, and he was fairly sure she wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, so he took the knife and did as she asked.
After he had done this, Jazlyn and the man looked at each other. Anger burned within his eyes, and laughter within Jazlyns.
“I’ve already got a one way ticket.” Jazlyn said to the dark man. She turned to Chris. “Come on Christopher, I’ll show you to your new room.” And with that, they left the parlor and the dark man behind.
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The bar was crowded tonight. Karin stood against the bar looking out at the crowd. She was looking for her cousin Kayla. Kayla had told Karin she would be there at seven. It was seven-ten. Karin was very big on punctuality.
Karin saw the front door open in her peripheral vision. She turned her head and spotted Kayla as she walked into the bar. She took her time wandering over to Karin, who had already been there for twenty minutes. When she got there she sat down at the bar, not looking at Karin until she had flirted with the guy next to her for five minutes.
Agitated as it now stood, Karin glared at Kayla. Normally her and Kayla got along perfectly, but as of late, Kayla seemed to be… different. Somehow more distant, less willing to interact with her cousin.
Kayla finally turned her head toward Karin. Inclining it slightly, she acknowledged her cousins existence. “Hey cuz, what’s up?”
Karin looked at Kayla, anger simmering just below the surface of her control. “You’re late. Again.” Karin snapped.
“It was only by like half an hour.” Kayla pouted.
“Yeah, on top of the hour you were late last time, and the time you just never even bothered to show up, and on top of that, you can’t even give me a good excuse.”
“Look, stop giving me an attitude ok? It isn’t my fault that something came up.”
“I’m going to leave, and if you really want to see me, you’ll find me.” Karin snapped, and walked out of the bar……

The desert was a vast and lonely place at noon. She knew that all of the royals were currently in a meeting about her. They were trying to decide her fate as a wife to some royal from a distant land. Gazing out of the ornately carved window, Jazlyn looked down at the people she would one day govern.
She stepped onto the balcony. Walking to the railing she had an amazing view of nothing. Just the vast and empty sands of the desert. They were currently in the middle of building the pyramids that would serve as tombs for both the royal family and the peasants.
Looking down, she noticed an oddly dressed peasant. Instead of the beige dress robes the peasants usually wore, he was wearing black. She studied him for a moment, until he passed from her line of sight. Intrigued by this oddly dressed man, she slipped into the common clothing she had stolen from a few of her servants and exited through a secret passageway she had had privately installed by a few well paid slaves.
As Jazlyn exited the door she had made the slaves mark ‘Forbidden’, she saw the dark man turn a corner. Keeping always a few steps behind him, she followed him through the winding twists and turns at the heart of the commonplace. She did manage to note a few items she would want one of her more loyal slaves to fetch for her. It would look too odd if she asked the normal slaves to get them.
It did not take very long for her to arrive at the location he had been heading for. He turned into a small shop. She didn’t recognize him, although that was not uncommon. The way these shops came and went, it was hard to know everyone by sight, let alone name.
Jazlyn snared quite a few gazes from the common people. They had given her the name, ‘Peasant of Beauty’, for none of them knew her true name. She walked through the doorway of the shop. Unlike most of these places, this one had a woman for a master and the young man was the apprentice.
She began looking at the odd objects she saw gleaming upon many tables and racks. The weapons she saw were unlike any others her Egypt had ever seen. Most of her slaves would probably never want to see them anyway. Jazlyn studied all of the weapons. The blades gleamed sinisterly, and the whips looked much less friendly than a desert snake that had missed a few meals.
She picked up one on the whips. It was braided silver, with one strand of gold weaved throughout it. She looked at the twin barbs at the end of the whip. They each had shards of metal embedded into them. This whip was specially designed to tear into the flesh of disobediant slaves.
Jazlyn saw the young apprentice standing in the doorway. She looked up at the master of the shop. “May I?” She inquired.
The master looked at her and nodded. Jazlyn turned and caught the mans eye as she cracked the whip harshly against the floor. When the young man failed to flinch, she raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Are you not afraid boy?”
He looked at her coldly. “No, I could never fear such beauty, no matter how dangerous the weapon she holds.”
Jazlyn prayed that her skills with a whip had not withered away in the time she had not practiced. Without warning she craked the whip expertly over her head and then let it snake around the young mans neck. The twin barbs lay at the collar of the dark shirt he wore.
As she unwound the whip from the young mans neck, she said, “Beauty is a cold thing. Fear it.” She turned to the master. “How much?”
The master looked at her, a smile playing at her lips. She too wore odd clothing. “Royalty never pays here. Take it.”
Dumbfounded, Jazlyn nodded once. Angry that these odd peasants had seen through her disguise, she walked toward the doorway. The young man stepped aside to let her pass. He watched her as she shouldered her way through the marketplace, not caring who she tripped or what their business was.
Succumbing to curiosity, he followed her through the dusty streets ot the marketplace. He didn’t bother keeping a great distance, she was too preoccupied with herself to notice anything else. He followed her until she came to a door marked ‘Forbidden’. This would usually deter anyone, but she walked right up to the door and entered it, shutting it behind her.
He smiled.
***********************************************************************************************
Jagger was restlessly pacing his room when Syane came in. She watched him for a few moments, so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice her immediately. When he did, had instantly assumed a position of defense.
Syane smiled. Jagger relaxed himself enough to continue pacing. “If you want her that badly, you know what you have to do.”
Jagger looked at her with annoyance. The fact that she could read his mind irritated him still, even after all these years. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do that.” He replied crossly.
“Jagger, it has been centuries, and you still have yet to change someone.”
“I know.” He snapped, walking toward his collection of weapons. He chose his favorite knife from the immense rack of them.
Crafted centuries ago by one of the first shape-shifters, its blade could kill even a vampire. Careful not to touch the sharp edge, Jagger grabbed the knife by the point and threw it at the wall. It landed dead center, exactly as he had expected it to.
Syane did not take her eyes off of her fledgling to see if he had hit his mark. She simply followed his movements across the room. “You know what you have to do.” She said simply.
Finally losing his patience, Jagger replied curtly, “I’m going for a walk.” as he began to disappear.
Syane smiled as she said, “Wouldn’t going for a walk imply that you were actually walking?”
As if on cue, Jaggers laughter resounded in her mind. “You know me so well Syane.”
As his voice faded away, Syane turned her mind toward more pressing matters.

Walking along the empty street of the marketplace, Jagger sought his next meal. It did not take him long to find it. He soon came upon the man who had offended his blood mother. He took threats to Syane seriously, and his anger could use a good outlet. Coming up behind him, Jagger grabbed the man by his throat. Not bothering to ease the pain of having his blood drawn through his veins, Jagger fed from the man.
He sank his fangs into the mans neck as roughly as he could. Normally he would send the person he fed off of to a distant place in their own mind where they would not feel the pain of dying. The man started to cry out, but Jagger quickly silenced him.
Suddenly Jagger felt a presence behind him. Tossing the dead man away, he turned, only to realize he stood face to face with the royal he had encountered earlier. She held the whip he had delicately forged in her right hand. Eyes wide, she stared, bewildered and disgusted. He didn’t know what overpowered him then, but he had the darkest desire to change her. To make her forever his.
He called out to her mind, willing her forward. She obliged, she was helpless to do otherwise. She never cried out, only when he bit into her neck did she come alive, a spark shocking her into action. She fought him, fought him with everything she had, but as the life was drained away, she became too weak.
Pulling away, Jagger raised his wrist to his lips and tore the flesh from his veins. Placing it against her lips, he tried to force her to drink the blood that poured forth. Thrashing wildly, she refused. Anger settled into him and he held her head still with his free arm. He placed his wrist once more to her lips, and she had no choice but to comply.
She passed out. Jagger looked down at her. Watching her stop breathing was odd, hearing her heart stop beating even more so. She was still alive though. If you could call what she had become alive…

Jazlyn restlessly paced the confines of her room. She had spent all day daydreaming. At dinner that night, she could barely keep her mind on the royal she was supposed to be sucking up to, to put it simply. Her parents wanted the riches he had, as well as all of the land he held in his possesion.
Jazlyn didn’t much care about any of it anyway. So as night began to fall over her homeland, she once again started down the secret passageway to the deserted marketplace.
Excitement grew within her. She hadn’t felt like this in years, sneaking out to see a man she didn’t even know. As her excitement grew, she began to run down the stairway, hoping that her royal robes would not be the death of her. She burst through the door marked ‘Forbidden’, and came to an immediate halt in the street.
There stood the apprentice, a man in his grasp. As she watched, the apprentice seemed to kiss the mans neck, but as her vision adjusted to the lack of light, she realized that this was no ordinary kiss, it was a kiss of death.
As if sensing her mere presence, the young apprentice turned around. He looked at her intently, and as he did, she felt compelled to move forward. Into the arms of death itself. She felt the touch of his mind upon hers, an eerie feeling at best. The whip she had absent mindedly carried with her hung limply from her hand.
Jazlyn no longer cared. The simple task of existing had ceased to become a necessity. She simply was. As his fangs broke her skin however, she began to thrash wildly, knowing that to give up now meant certain death. As he drew the life from her veins, she grew steadily weaker. Unable to fight any longer, she collapsed.
Held up only by the young apprentice, she watched him tear his own flesh from his wrist through a fog of uncertainty. Jazlyn felt him place the torn wrist to her lips, and almost accepted what he had to offer. Her wit returning, she struggled, only succeeding in having him pin her to the dusty road of the commonplace.
Then all she felt were the black curtains of life closing around her. It seemed that her life as she knew it had ended. How she longed to be back in the palace with that retched royal…
***********************************************************************************************
He threw the rag down at her feet. “Clean yourself up.” Said a deep voice. Jazlyn stared at the rag that blood had long since stained orange. Kicking it away in disgust, Jazlyn tried to stand, only to fail and slump to the floor.
“What did I do to deserve this?” she thought, trying to see in a room of intense darkness.
“You didn’t do anything wrong…yet.” Came a voice from the far end of the room.
Trying to stand again, Jazlyn succeeded and braced herself against the wall. “Who are you?” she snapped, taking a tentative step towards the voice.
“That is unimportant right now. We will make introductions later, but right now you need to feed.” stepping out of the gloom, Jazlyn cought a glimpse of a tall, black haired man.
“What do you mean feed?” she asked, trying to sound calm. Opening a door, he stepped over the threshhold, letting dazzling light fill the room, which Jazlyn saw was filled with mirrors. Stepping towards her own reflection, Jazlyn saw there was something very wrong with the way she looked.
Her plain brown hair had turned midnight black, and her already milky skin had turned even more pale. Her emerald eyes had turned totaly black, and they no longer looked like her eyes staring back at her. She felt taller as she glided towards the open door. Steping into the light of another room, she saw two men in deep conversation. Looking at the short, red-haired boy, she dismissed him with a wave of her hand, striding towards the black haired man. As she stood toe to toe with him, she demanded answers.
“Calm down Jazlyn” he said placidly, placing his hand on her arm. Yanking her arm out of his grip she demanded to know where they were. “You are in Mekka.” Jagger said simply, as if it was nothing important.
Jazlyn turned in a fit of rage. Unleashing her rampant anger she whirled back toward the mirrors. A silver vase stood on top of an immense table. The table itself glowed with a sinister brightness, radiating the reflected light off of its ebony marble surface. She grabbed the vase and turned toward Jagger. “If you do not give me the answers I…” She stopped. Jagger? Who was Jagger? Ignoring the thought she began her sentance again. “If you do not give me the answers I seek, I will smash every mirror you have so delicately placed upon these walls.”
Jagger looked alarmed quite suddenly. His alarm gave way to amusement and he stepped forward. “Give me the vase Jazlyn. You would not want to destroy the artifacts my mother Syane has so patiently collected over the centuries now would you?”
Jazlyn brought herself to her full height. “Jagger! I want the answers now! Tell me what I wish to know!” She turned away again, and in doing so, released the heavy silver vase.
It hit the first mirror with a scream of metal upon glass. The glass fell in slow motion to the hardwood floor. As it hit, it made soft tinkling noises, as a chime would make swaying in a gentle wind.
Jagger stood still, rooted to the spot by his anger. Unable to contain himself any longer, he launched his lithe frame at Jazlyn. His beloved, his death, his pain. He grabbed her by the throat, pinning her against broken shards of glass. “Never, never, do that, ever again. If you do, you will wish I had let you die in the street as a mongrel.” He snarled.
Jazlyn let out a hiss of pain as the glass bit into her neck and back. She managed to wheeze out a reply. “I would have rather died in the street a mongrel, than ever be here in this wretched place with you.”
Jagger released her, wearing a sinister smile. Jazlyn had never felt such a rage well up inside of her. She could not find the control she needed to stop herself from commiting an insanely stupid act. She roared in anger, throwing herself at Jagger with every ounce of power she had ever harbored, every hateful word she had ever held back from anyone. She would no longer be a puppet, a mindless animal for people to amuse themselves with.
She whirled Jagger around so that his back was to the mirrored walls and slammed him into the broken mirror she had been pinned to moments before. “Never, ever, treat me like a mindless animal Jagger. I will haunt your life for as long as you will ever roam these lands. And no matter where you go, pain will follow.”
Jagger threw Jazlyn away. “You are losing your strength, you must feed.” Jagger grabbed her by the wrist. Before Jazlyn could pull away, they were in a different place, the air dense with moisture.
“W-w-where are we?” Jazlyn stuttered, too confused by the sudden change in location to care how pathetic she sounded.
“We are on the outskirts of your kingdom. You need to feed, or you will die.”
You need to feed or you will die. It was as simple as that. The words echoed in Jazlyns mind. Feed or die, feed or die. Wasn’t she already dead? She was thrown from her thoughts by Jaggers sudden movement. In mere seconds he had captured his prey.
Dark skinned, the girl was no older than Jazlyn. At the touch of Jaggers mind she was subdued. Quiet and still for the moment.
Jagger lifted the girls wrist as Jazlyn watched him. He pressed one delicate fang into the girls tender flesh. A single jewel of blood blossomed forth, trembling on her wrist as if trying to return to the bloodstream it had been pulled from.
As Jazlyn watched a group of children walk past, she wondered why they didn’t see what was happening.
As if answering her thought Jagger explained. “I am influencing their minds so that they notice nothing unusual. You too will be able to preform this task once you have fed and are properly trained.”
Suddenly a metallic copper scent filled Jazlyns sinuses. She threw her head towards the girl that lay suspended in Jaggers arms. The droplet of blood was running down her arm. Suddenly overcome with the need to taste this substance, Jazlyn moved forward toward Jagger.
He saw the bloodlust in Jazlyns eyes and held the girl out to her. Within moments she was piercing through the girls neck with her milky fangs. She began to draw the life from the girl.
As if suddenly aware of her surroundings, the girl came alive in Jazlyns arms.
Jazlyn looked down, surprised at the sudden movement of the supposedly unconscious girl. In seconds, the girl had drawn a blade from a sheath that had previously hung at her hip. Jazlyn cried out in alarm as the knife grazed the tender flesh of the underside of her forearm.
Acting on instinct, Jazlyn dropped the girl and retreated away from her, only managing to corner herself. Suddenly, the girl roared with an unholy rage and changed before Jazlyns very eyes. Shifted was a more proper word, but nothing so mundane had ever been seen at the palace, and now was not the time for proper descriptions.
Where a lithe girl once stood on two legs, now a Leopard crouched on four. Poised to spring forward and catch Jazlyns throat in her wicked fangs, the Leopard leapt into the air. Seeming to glide over the air, as did a snake through the papyrus, the Leopard hit Jazlyn squarely in the chest.
Before the demon could administer the death sentence, Jagger leapt into action. Hurling himself at the creature, he drew the knife that long ago had been forged by the species that now assaulted Jazlyn. With one swipe, Jagger cut the agile cats underside. The wound was meant to kill, but in all of his red tinted anger, he missed his mark by inches.
Roaring in rage, the Leopard turned, running into the darkness of Egypt’s desert, long deserted by the suns rays. Jagger turned to Jazlyn. She was staring at the underside of her arm in astonishment. The cut that had surprised her out of feeding a moment ago had vanished. As if she had never been slashed by the weapon of a vicious shape-shifter.
Jazlyn looked up to see Jagger staring at her. As if light had just been shed on the situation at hand, Jazlyn gaped at him. “You tried to kill me.”
“What? No! I’m sorry that this happened Jazlyn, you see, shape-shifters have extremely strong mental shields against vampires. When their shields are up, they look and seem to think as would a normal human. I thought she was nothing more than a slave girl when I chose her for you to feed off of. I was wrong.” Jagger looked at Jazlyn, the look she read there was the closest thing she thought she would ever get to sincerity. “Please forgive me.”
Jazlyn scowled. “Why should I? You nearly got me killed…” She added a bitter afterthought, “Or got me killed again anyway.”
Jagger too scowled. “You’d think you would thank me for saving your life, and then apologizing for a mistake I made. Instead, here you stand, anger written across your countenance, telling me that my apology is not accepted.”
“I never said your apology was not accepted, and I didn’t think it either.” Jazlyn said, a smile beginning to play at the outer corners of her lips.
Jagger strode forward, grabbing Jazyln by her wrists. “Now, I think we had better find you someone to dine with before you die of starvation.” He said, sarcasm dripping off of his words the way poison drips off the fangs of an Egyptian cobra.
“Perhaps I dine off of you, and then establish my rank in your lovely little rat trap instead?” Jazlyn said sweetly, although her words rang as false as did the bells of centuries to come.
Jagger laughed, a note of happiness he had not expressed so freely in years. “Come Jazlyn, you have much to learn.”
The two of them faded from sight, leaving the shadows to themselves, their dark whispers hiding the story of what had happened this night. By morning, the whole of Egypt would be looking for the lost princess, but not one would ever see the jewel of the morning ever again. She had merely faded from existence as so many of her ancestors had done. Not with age, but with an eternity stretched out before her.

Concord, Massachusetts 2003
Jazlyn roamed the familiar streets of Concord, Massachusetts. She had long since forgotten the anxiety of moving to a new home. As far as she was concerned, this was home. It was about dusk, and she was on the prowl for her next meal. She normally didn’t prey on the people in her own neighborhood, but she had waited way to long to feed, and didn’t have the time or energy to fade from one existence into another.
As she was moving among darkened alleys, Jazlyn noticed a young boy. He could be no older than fourteen, and no younger than eleven. Easing herself into his mind, she realized that he was homeless.
Perfect. Jazlyn thought to herself. They would think he had merely died at the hands of some drug addict or another. She came up behind him soundlessly, as her arm snaked around the young boys neck, she subdued his minds with thoughts of tropical places, far from the world in which he now lived.
As Jazlyn bent to take the life from the boy’s veins, she caught a glimpse of a horrifying past. The boy’s father had committed suicide when his son was only eight years old. The boy had found his father, suspended from a rafter in his parents’ bedroom. A few months later his mother began to develop into a heavy cocaine user.
She spent every penny they had on cocaine, and soon they were out in the streets. She had used this boy; Christopher was his name, to get money for her addiction. She had eventually died of an overdose, leaving Christopher to fend for himself in this unusually cruel world.
Jazlyn stepped away from the boy, pity open in her usually blank eyes. He blinked, once, twice, to clear the fog from his mind. Jazlyn knelt down so that she was at eye level with the boy.
vampgoddessraven: “You have no home?” She asked, a note of concern in her voice. The boy merely shook his head. He had obviously been traumatized by the entire ordeal. Jazlyn pried at him. “What’s your name?” She asked, although she already knew the answer.
“Christopher.” He gave only a first name, nothing more. Just Christopher. Jazlyn realized that she was not influencing the boys mind. He did not flinch or recoil from her presence though, as did so many other humans she had encountered.
“Would you like to come home with me Christopher?” Jazlyn asked softly, not wanting to, but feeling a strange tug at her long unbeaten heart.
The boy looked at her then. Studied her eyes with an intensity she had not expected of a twelve year old. He was only twelve. Not trusting of this new stranger, Christopher turned and fled. Sighing, Jazlyn chased after him. She knew what he must be thinking, ‘great, another person to abuse me.’
She caught him quickly, and took his arm firmly but gently in her hand. “Christopher, I don’t mean you any harm. You have nowhere to go, and you’ll die of malnutrition before another person offers to take you in. Besides, if you don’t like it with me, we can find another more suitable home for you. Ok?”
Again he stared into her eyes, so intent that Jazlyn nearly blinked in surprise. After a few minutes of this staring contest, Christopher nodded, timidly, warily, but a yes none-the-less.
Jazlyn smiled. “You have to do me one favor first. Promise me you will stay right here, and not move until I get back. Ok?”
Christopher nodded again. He had nowhere else to go anyway. He watched Jazlyn turn the corner. He sat on the ground and wondered how bad it would be, how long they would keep him before they too threw him out into the cold and lonely streets of Concord.
Jagger sat at the table, worry etched across his brow. Jazlyn had not come home the night before, nor had he seen her that day. As he began to pace he saw visions of her lying somewhere, colder than his very heart.
Shaking his head, Jagger dismissed the thought. Jazlyn was far too strong to become prey. Unless Kayla herself had gotten a hold of her anyway. As if on cue, Syane materialized in front of the table Jagger occupied. He smiled in greeting. As he looked up however, his smile immediately faded away.
“What is it Syane? You look as if someone drove a stake through your heart.” He said it lightly, but it hid a darker emotion.
“Ha, if it was that simple, it would have been done a long time ago.” She spat bitterly. “No, it is worse I am afraid. Far worse.”
Worse? Jagger did not think that anything could be worse than someone stabbing a stake through his beloved mothers heart. “What is it then? You know I have yet to read your well concealed mind.”
Syane snorted. “We have had two deaths in the past day. The first, Aryn’s fledgling Xavier, was killed at the hands of one of Kayla’s assassins. One of her more violent assassins at that.” Syane growled angrily.
“That’s only one. Who is the other?” Jagger inquired, sensing that this was going to take a turn for the worse.
“Arlita, my own fledgling.” Syane all but hissed through gritted teeth. “She died not by the hands of one of Kayla’s assassins, but by Kayla herself.”
Kayla was the leader of the most powerful clan of witches. Powerful and hateful, she harbored a terrible anger toward all of the Vampiric world. Kayla’s one goal in life seemed to be to destroy all of the vampires in existence. Close to impossible, but Syane and Jagger both knew that Kayla would give it a good try.
Jagger could feel the anger well up inside of him. He himself had been directly affected by the deaths. Or at least one of them anyway. Arlita had been his only blood sister. They rarely saw each other, but they were closer than most human brothers and sisters would ever get. “Well? Do we just stand here and let her death go unpunished, or do we stand up and fight these worthless mongrels?”
“We wait. We must bide our time, and hopefully the winds will change to favor us. Until that time however, you must tend to Jazlyn and your new charge.” Syane said, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her blood red mouth.
“My new charge?” Jagger inquired. “What does that mean?”
“The story is not mine to tell. You will see soon enough.” With that last word Syane faded from the room, just as Jazlyn walked into it.
“Jazlyn! Where have you been? Kayla has been killing again, what if she had gotten to you?” Jagger scolded.
Jazlyn raised an eyebrow. “I’d have ripped her head off and hung it on a stake in front of their encampment.” She said lightly, although Jagger could detect the seriousness she held in an undertone.
Jagger looked at her closely. He sensed that she was hiding something, something she was not yet ready to tell him. Without thinking he asked her.
“What do you mean what am I hiding? I hide nothing from you.” Jazlyn replied in that silky voice she had become so accustomed to using when she wanted something.
“Well, if you aren’t hiding something, then you most definitely want something.” He snapped.
Jazlyn looked at him. “Well, if you must know,” she said as she turned around, “Wait one minute and I’ll show you.”
It was Jaggers turn to raise and eyebrow. Show him? Meaning that she had already gotten what she wanted and needed approval? He sat back in his chair, waiting for Anubis-knew-what.
When Jazlyn returned, she was toting a young boy behind her. Reaching into the child’s mind, the first thing he saw was his father’s suicide, his mother’s horrid addiction. The next thing he saw was the boy himself, homeless and walking the lowest streets of Concord. He also learned that the boy was twelve.
Jagger looked at Jazlyn. “So? What do you want me to do with him?”
Jazlyn too used her gift for telepathy so that Christopher would be spared the argument she knew was coming. “He has nowhere to go. I want to keep him.”
Jagger looked at the boy, then at Jazlyn, a cold smile playing on her lips. “Then change him.”
“No.” It was simple; Jazlyn would not have the boy changed. She turned and looked at Christopher. “Sweetie, I know this is going to sound strange, but you have to do something for me.”
Christopher looked up at her, fragile trust hanging in the balance between them. “What?” The boy asked timidly, so quietly that Jazlyn almost couldn’t hear him.
“I need you to take this little knife here,” Jazlyn handed him the knife. “And cut my arm right here.” She pointed to the top of her forearm.
Christopher looked at her strangely, but did as she had asked. Jagger had realized what she was doing only seconds before she actually did it. “You ungrateful wench. You let him cut you so that you would have blood-claim. Damn you right to hell Jazlyn!”
Blood-Claim was a vampire’s way of getting revenge. If a human harmed a vampire by chance, the human then became the vampires own. No one could change or harm the human in any way, or the vampire that the blood-claim was owed to would kill the violator with no compunction. In the vampire world, it was not illegal to kill another vampire, but more often than not it was considered low. Yet there are always those little exceptions.
Jazlyn smiled. “I’ve already got a one way ticket. Come on Christopher, I’ll show you to your new room.”
With that, she was gone, showing Christopher around his house. Jagger could not stand humans, but human children? That was even worse.
Christopher had been waiting in the hallway when Jazlyn came to get him. She had proven to be kind and gentle with him, so he had developed a trust in her. When she brought him into the parlor however, he knew who she had been talking to.
A man sat before a large table, looking at Jazlyn with a mild curiosity. When he saw Chris however, his already black eyes got darker still. He was obviously tall, with dark eyes and black hair. He had a milky complexion and a mouth that seemed never to smile.
He did not like this man. Chris was usually a very obedient boy, one who would jump at any command, but he knew that he would never obey this man. Dislike and hatred had a fine line between them. His feelings for this man were on that fine line.
While he had been immersed in his thoughts, he had not noticed anything else, including if they had been talking or if they had, what had been said. He had only been snapped out of his thoughts by Jazlyn.
She asked him to take a small knife she had offered and cut her forearm. Startled, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. He trusted Jazlyn, and he was fairly sure she wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, so he took the knife and did as she asked.
After he had done this, Jazlyn and the man looked at each other. Anger burned within his eyes, and laughter within Jazlyns.
“I’ve already got a one way ticket.” Jazlyn said to the dark man. She turned to Chris. “Come on Christopher, I’ll show you to your new room.” And with that, they left the parlor and the dark man behind.
***********************************************************************************************
The bar was crowded tonight. Karin stood against the bar looking out at the crowd. She was looking for her cousin Kayla. Kayla had told Karin she would be there at seven. It was seven-ten. Karin was very big on punctuality.
Karin saw the front door open in her peripheral vision. She turned her head and spotted Kayla as she walked into the bar. She took her time wandering over to Karin, who had already been there for twenty minutes. When she got there she sat down at the bar, not looking at Karin until she had flirted with the guy next to her for five minutes.
Agitated as it now stood, Karin glared at Kayla. Normally her and Kayla got along perfectly, but as of late, Kayla seemed to be… different. Somehow more distant, less willing to interact with her cousin.
Kayla finally turned her head toward Karin. Inclining it slightly, she acknowledged her cousins existence. “Hey cuz, what’s up?”
Karin looked at Kayla, anger simmering just below the surface of her control. “You’re late. Again.” Karin snapped.
“It was only by like half an hour.” Kayla pouted.
“Yeah, on top of the hour you were late last time, and the time you just never even bothered to show up, and on top of that, you can’t even give me a good excuse.”
“Look, stop giving me an attitude ok? It isn’t my fault that something came up.”
“I’m going to leave, and if you really want to see me, you’ll find me.” Karin snapped, and walked out of the bar……

If life is nothing but pain and despair, then why do we choose to live? …Why? Because of fear. But why do we let the fear of death hesitate us from suicide, if suicide would only conquer our fear of death?

Death is the ultimate escape from everything, including the fear of the death itself.

I’ve looked into your eyes
I try to see what you see
And feel how you really are deep inside
But more I looked more lost I was
When I knew you weren’t the one
Even though I wanted you so
The world darkened and there my heart was broken
The heart bled with never lasting flows
Soaked in the pool of blood
I stood, I cried
It was me who was to blame
My actions were wrong
I hurt you so
You will accept me not
For the trust was gone
There, my hand outreached for you
But I will only see you turn your back on me

He didnt love me.
I shrugged.
She didnt want me.
I shrugged.
I ignored both my parents, as I played with the clogs of dirt on my shoes.
I’ve been grounded since I was 4.
I’m 8 now.
The only times I’ve seen sunshine was when I was a baby.
I can barely remember it.
I’m sick, sunlight burns my skin.
I’ll never be able to enjoy the heat. Never.
Dad throws things at me, he laughs at me.
Mom doesnt notice me.. she shouldve just used protection.
I don’t go to school, mom said “it doesnt deserve the right to be educated.. a waste of time.. ”
Maybe shes right, I don’t know.
I’m smart for my age.. until I decided I’ve had enough.
I have no friends.
I don’t ever remember leaving my room.
I’m glued to the floor, I think.
I found daddy’s pocket knife on the ground in his room.
Hey, mommy.. look at me! Pay some attention..?
Theres a beautiful river of crimson red..
But its staining your floor..
“Stop bleeding, dammit. I just got new carpet.”
My wrist we’re hurting, but I tried to clean the mess.
I scrubbed n scrubbed.. until I could barely stay awake.
Crawling over to a window, I opened the curtain..
Staring out into the sun..
Then I realized.. sunlight doesnt burn anymore..
They lied to me.
My thoughts ended, as I crumbled on the floor.
Suicide at the age of 9.

- Cai†lin.

The day comes with great things to look for
The crying of a baby and people at your door
Must they come to make me glad
Or have they come to make me mad
In school i feel the sin of those
who try to lie or to impose
I will put an end to all
for i shall have everyone fall
with a dash of this
i shall cut my rist
let the blood leak
and kill my speach
will this pain ever end
if it does will i win

Promise me you wont cry while you watch me die im already dead gone insane and confuesed in the head and i wanna lay
down in my bed while clouds form above me and rain drops fall then drip down my face instead of tears an wish i could be with her instead of thinking of her for the rest of my years my wasted days arent worth living if your not near i was spose to be fearless but this is now my greatest and only fear everything that was blurred is now clear na thats where i lay in this clouded rainy shade of gray and watch it all take a certain fade and become more envolved in my dicision the one i dont want to make i know its going to be a mistake but its to late to be saved now i just crawl and prowl the moon glows
while the wolfs howl and i feel a certain death take place in my gapeing chest where a heart once lie so now i wonder
……..why

i drownd in your beauty while i feel my forsaken tears run down my face , so misunderstood such a discrace over killed and defaced i warn you that death will sonn take your place sounds nice to shove a briar bush down your throat then take a brick to your face may i cry alone instead of you over my shoulder out of my touch out of site in heart and mind all spazed out and intwinded twisted and sick i twitch and flick love is all so thick
faygo is thicker than blood and if i wanted to i would kill it all away save it for another day take it all make it snappy i feel so great i feel…………heart broke happy

FROM ME TO YOU

Every day seems to burn a deeper hole in side of me,
Cast out mutalated something for everyone to see,
Waiting for a sign a simbol so i can finally be free and be what i wanna be.
Every hour i feel another chunk of my heart break apart,
The way things should be in my mind arent but i gues it all goes back to the start.
Evert minuet takes my breath away,
I want to die alone and suffer less but thats ok i gues you never wanted it anyway,
Now i put all my trust in this blade to end it all take it to the grave,
Take it now hold it tight and thrust it in my neck with all of my might hope that it works so i will no longer be a slave.
Now down to evey second i feel my life pass me by its all over and done now i dont see why i ever tryd i gave you my heart and now ive died but i gues its better now cause i know you never cryd.
Now maybe you get the idea,
Life passed me by while what i wanted was so near,
Now its all so far away so this will be the last tear i shed today,
With a rope aroun my throat i think i hate you,
But then i realize it was all a mistake and that i made the same faults the ones that we all do,
So now i must tell you and when i speak it i say it soft alone the only words that are true,
when im gone you have to stay to live another day and know that
I LOVE YOU……….

as i sit here wondering why
my memory goes back to a time
when things were happy and bright
now all i can see is this darkness
it circles my every being, my soul
everything is lost into this blinding eternal insanity
that i call my life.

I have no one to blame but myself
it was i who let you fall
it was i that saw it all
u sreamed to me for help and all i did was watch
i didn’t want to believe that it was happening
and then i did.

you fell as quickly as a dove takes to flight
taking with you my soul, my life,
but as was said
there is no one to blame but myself
i watched u fall
i saw it all.

She plauges my every thought. I can’t go a day without hearing her voice. She haunts me like the voices in my head. I stare at her beautiful skin, pale and transparent. I look into her baby blue eyes, her red lips. It agonizes me; knowing that I won’t be around long enough to kiss them. I look passed her, I see a man with a knife… he’s come to take me away. The thing is, I don’t want to go… I want to be with her. Be her servent. I want her to touch me in places that I can only fathom. I dream of her, rescuing me from my pain. If only she knew that someone admired her so much, maybe she’d see…

I despise you
I adore you
I can’t decide
My mind is writhing with these thoughts
So entangled in my contemplation
I wanna scream at you
I want to hold you
I wish I’d never see your face again
But I know I can’t live without you
How can something that felt so taintless
Make me feel so regretful
Trying to figure out
What’s wrong and right?
Should I hate you ‘cuz you deserted me
Or should I be happy ‘cuz you are

Rip that shit you call a hear out of your chest
Smash it to the ground
Watch it shatter like glass
Try to pick up the pieces
Put them back together
Could you imagine how that feels?
That’s what you put me threw
I’d kill you if I could
Rip you apart
The blood curdling screams
Echoing in my head
Its music to my ears
The sound is so elegant
I’d make you beg for your life
Is kill you slowly
Then
Only then
You would know
What you put me threw

The more i’m alive i find myself falling away from life,
crying at night and wishing i’d die,
can anything cure the emptyness?
will it all just wash away and fade?
why cant they see i’m struggling with this?
i’ve let my life slip,
i’ve let my dreams go,
i’ve let you leave,
now i’m cold…
i feel so alone…
so unfree…

(Belongs in horror. Thank you for your consideration. Sick site, by the effin way)

There is a distinct pleasure to be had hunting. There are cries, sweats and moans all ending in blood and screams.
Alert! A Murderer follows you in the night beneath a wicked moon. There is a howl in the air as your tight candy ass walks feverishly, guided by madness. Your heart, my mind. Your fingers, my spine. I know you can sense me like a hell on wind. I saw you in the nightclub you were far too young to be in. I eyed you by the bar talking shit about things you haven’t experienced. I saw you drink again and again, your veins and blood soon saturated with insanity and warmth and sin. You know now, as I follow you, that sin is what I like.
I can smell you ten feet ahead, two blocks ahead. A full fucking mile ahead. The faster and harder you step the louder and crazier you taste on the wind. I can gleam your short black hair rustling drunkenly against your spooky kid concert tee. Fuck you. Soon enough I guess, but not before I torture you. I can only see night now; I am walking faster than you. Your tiny legs can’t keep up, slow up, choke up; soon I will bend them back behind your smooth neck and plunge a knife into your gut. I can already feel the wetness of blood as my fist hits your nose and red splatters my shirt.
There are others I ignore, all for the love of you. The love of sprawled kid in an alley staggering drunk and knocked near dead; head and shoulders smell sticky in my hands as I wrap your hair between fingers and bone. I feel a left middle finger in a fleshy, beautiful green eye and a thumb pressed against your groin. There was a scream just now. Did you HEAR that shit? Memorize it and recite it to me later.
You turned the corner. Can’t feel my chase on your back anymore, can you? Wait… give it a second; I will catch up. The moisture between your legs is a rugged scent I can follow for a hundred thousand years. I’ve got you now. Even as you feel relief the heart is trepidating and knows; when I approach, it will all be over. End life, knife throat, veins cold.
This was a ::wrong:: turn. No where the fuck to go; you sped down the alley to escape me. I hunt you. All fifteen years and ninety pounds of you smack into a metal pipe, held by a homeless man. Another crack against your stomach, ribs, chest. There is screaming now; with pain and those sighs I love way too much. I see another man grab your head. Fuck. You don’t even reach his stomach. He is going to kill you. Eventually, but not yet. You don’t even bother screaming for help; you fear that I will hear you. I heard you already though; three hours ago, you asked for me. Here the fuck I am. NOW what?
Pipe man lets an open fist across your face. Died raven bangs dart across your forehead. There is confusion, searing pain, a hand on your firm little ass. There is a sharp object poking your lower left rib from behind, as a palm presses firmly against your back and pushes you into the humid back alley cement.
The taste of grit and piss fills the corner of your mouth. Something is pissing on you, doll. Pucker up and flush it down. You are flipped over; on your back. Mr. Pipe is holding your arms out and kneels above your head. The bigger fucker presses his thumbs into your inner thighs respectively, spreading you all apart. There is a knee in your stomach and he is mounting you. What the fuck? You are a horse. Giddy up.
The knee is a big round pain crimping your organs up; your wrists wriggle against two grimy hands holding them down. So many punches. Fuck man removes his knee; the prophecy is begun… Dr. Pipe is insane you see; the urge to press his thumb into that big beautiful green eye is irresistible; IN it goes…. Thucking and mucking and squishing around and NOW you scream. …What the shit did you just say? Jesus can’t fucking hear you. But I can.
He who lives to fuck removes your black jeans down to your thong. You FREAK. He is gentle now; thumbing and pressing filthy fuck hands in and around you. There is a siren in the distance. There are knees on your little handjob hands now; and the filthy Dr. Pipe sits cock relieved three inches from your lips. Yep. A slimy hand pushes down on your chin and lets your mouth open; another inserts a beaded, fetid dick into your mouth. There is a thumb pressing oddly into your abdomen…
A car screeches off in the distance. Fucker is inside you now. Holy fucking shit it’s like a baseball bat! Home run mother fucker; you are out of time. Something is squeezing your tits so hard that pain is oozing out of what room there is left from every orifice (what with greasy sore infested prick in you and all) in raw, energetic spurts of hell and flesh. Everything is a blur. There is a smell like ass and vomit all around you. There is a thumping and a banging; nothing more. You are blind in one eye and very near death, near the end, near me. Something cold… no more rod in you; but something freezing like ice from your throat, spilling out very fast. There Is a greasy, wet hole in your lower stomach which bleeds as earnestly as your neck. The two get up and run. You pull yourself together to stand up; half naked. That blood won’t stop kid; it’s fucking EVERYWHERE.
There. I heard you. Take my hand; the fun begins now. Smell that? It’s Egyptian musk, my favorite bride. I will dress you in black and red and chain you to my wrist. I count you amongst my most blessed of slaves. You should have stayed home and baked cookies with your sister.

words cut.
how?
how could something, words … how could it cut? how could it be made to make you bleed? how can something, only seen on “paper”, one heard in voice hurt? the paper could cut you, but that’d be the papers wound, the voice could break your hearing, but that too would only be the voices wound. words, itself, as a whole, as a being could tear the very fiber of your soul, of you being. how? when they sit and vegetate in your mind, they seem to … to disintegrate the wall that’s there to block them out, and once they’re through, they get to your inner most being, the frail, fragile being that makes up your very soul. then it begins to eat away at that as well.

( this is just a rough draft of what i’m working on now. i’ll probally end up redoing it to many times before i accept it. )

Misunderstood and misjudged by you
Broken and bleeding, beaten by you
Lost in a world of suffering and sorrow
Going to sleep, hoping there’s no tomorrow
Mommy and daddy aren’t always there
Get over yourself, no one cares
The little lost loners all by themselves
Living their lives, free passes to Hell
Who really cares, when we die we’re gone
What does it matter right or wrong?

You cry because you thought you had love
Guess he wasn’t sent from above
It’s nice that someone can care about these things
Nothing better to do but dream idle dreams
No need to grow up, to be less vain
You never will, you’ll never change
I was ten years old and older than you
Mature from all the pain I’ve been through
Get a hold on yourself little girl
You’re losing yourself in the great wide world

It’s time for all those lost in life
To stop living alone, to join and unite
To recognize a common enemy
Of those who break, push you under the sea
All of those beaten and all of those drown
All of you who have broken down
All of those trapped in the rain they create
All of the pain against those who hate
We make up an army of the hurt and the used
An army of souls battered and bruised
An army of tears that fall at night
As you lie in bed, shunning the light
An army forged in broken homes, with broken dreams and broken lives
An army bearing skeleton bones, their wonds, they scream, their souls, they writhe
An army of minds that slowly crack
An army with knives in their backs
An army of abandoned girls and boys
An army of those tossed away like toys
An army with scars that will never heal
An army with too much pain to feel
An army with hatred that festers inside
An army with too many demons to hide

An army bent on pain not death
Let them live, don’t take their last breath
What I wish on you is death inside
A pain that can only be told through your eyes
I command an army that devestates all
That rejoices in watching enemies fall
Like hordes of wolves we turn upon you
Feeding on the torture that you’ve put us through
Now you know how it is
To be lost in this
You’re so helpless
All thanks to
The Army Of Darkness

(dedicated to those who have shared this Darkness with me)

I remember when I first saw you. I didn’t think you were that special. If someone had told me I’d spend six years of my life with you I’d have laughed. But your mind was enough to keep mine alive, and I’d been looking for that: I was yours from that instant; I just needed to catch up with Fate. You gave my world some colour.

I Sinned. I didn’t see you for who you really were. And you were supposed to love me. We Sinned.

I can’t count how many teeth you’ve knocked out, my mouth is full of blood. It’s all swollen up on one side and you’re laughing. You say I sound like a cartoon character.

I’m reaching for the telephone but you’ve got it and you’re holding it above my head. God how easily I could tear your face to ribbons now, I could twist your balls but you won’t feel it.

God I’m so afraid, the way hitting you is like hitting padded bricks. I never hit another human being before, you’re making me do it, I only want to save my life. I feel sick…

I am sick, on your floor, and now you’re angry. You weren’t angry before - you were doing it for fun, and now you’re angry. I leap back and see in your hands a clump of hair. It’s mine. I crawl back over the broken glass, but I’m like someone who’s drowning. I’m clutching at air, walls, furniture and holding on to nothing, and you come at me again. Now my head is in the pillow and my screaming is annoying you. I’m not screaming anymore, there’s a strange noise coming out of me, it’s like an animal, it’s bleating, a hoarse sound. I’m in the nightmare where you open your mouth and only croaking comes out. And now there’s a dull click. It’s my neck. The last sound I will ever hear will be the sound of my own neck breaking.

You release the pressure. You’ve passed out again. I’m going to find something to slit your fucking throat with - if only I wasn’t shaking out of control. No, I’ll call the police: I’ll call an ambulance, oh God this isn’t real. I’m made of stone.

I look at my hands and there they are: the cuts of self-defence. I read about this and stupidly I never thought it would happen to me. I didn’t even feel them, I can hardly feel them now. I can’t see out of my eye. You’re awake again. You’re going to kill me. I’m going to die like this. How can you smile? How can you laugh? Oh God don’t let me die like this, not like this! Not for you!

You’re supposed to love me.

this is a poem written by a friend of mine, but she has no net.

The Hourglass

As sand goes through the hourglass,
I just let it all pass.
There is no point in going on,
When every thing I love has gone.

I’ve tried to go on in this land,
But it all comes back to the sand,
Dripping through the hour glass,
Dripping,
Dripping.
Dripping away,
Getting slower each day.

Do you wish you could turn back time…
I’d save the life that’s wasn’t mine.

Does life really seem so peaceful, full of balcane and love?
Is it really something you wish to live?
Does death not seem better?
Free of pain and the mortal problems that we have to face?
Many people say their only fear is death, is that wise?
After all everyone dies in the end

I can’t deal with this
I don’t know who or what or why
I just can’t deal with this
I just can’t take it
I don’t know why,
I don’t know when,
I don’t know anything
And i can’t take it

I don’t care
I can’t deal with this
But I don’t care
I don’t know anything
And I’m not bothered
I’m failing school
It doesn’t matter
I’m screwing up my life
And it just doesn’t matter

I should care
I should bother
It should matter
It just doesn’t
I can’t take it
It doesn’t matter
I don’t know anything
I don’t care
I’m screwing up my life
I’m not bothered

Why should it matter
Why should I care
Why should I bother
It doesn’t matter,
It never will

Its the way I think,
The way I feel
The way I live,
The way I deal

I wonder if i can last
I wonder if i can still love
I wonder if i can survive that last blast
I wonder if i could really get rid of it all this fast.
I seem to be bleeding from my lip
I seem to take a minuet thinkin if i shoul take or skip
I seem to cry alone while it all digs deeper inside
I seem to choke while being dragged the other side.
I Seem To Wonder Why Its All Come Crashing Down…….

I don’t understand this feeling, sometimes I wish to belong, to be understood, other times I wish that my eyes where being Ripped out my tiny little rats so viciously that the pain is almost unbearable. Then I wish to die please.

(this post should go in the category Darkness. thank you.)

I’ve noticed….
people dont care about what happens to you.
people will blame others before looking at themselves
people come and people go, nothing lasts forever
nobody will ever understand you or “get you”
most people are self-centered
people are only motivated by the possibility that they might gain something.
people are materialistic
people forget that they control their thoughts, their thoughts dont control them

its ok to
feel sorry for yourself, cause no one else will

in the end
you only have yourself, so learn to stand alone and stand strong

i dont believe in heaven, i believe we need hope to survive and without religion we would have lost hope and died out. we need something to look forward to , something to motivate us, because i guess people just cant be good unless they think they are going to get rewarded in the end. what happened to selflessness? or just being charitable?

we only have one life to live, live it.
we live, we love, we die.
there is so much in this life just to be wrapped up in our petty little problems. open your eyes. look around. theres a world of people here. dont get wrapped up in your material possessions, the people in your life, the things you do. thats what matters..not the car you drove or you comp, the clothes you wore,or the music you listened to

one kind deed will cause another, start the cycle.

Take my heed and open your eyes, look around at what you have been missing.

I watch as the blood goes, it drops from my wrists. drip, drip I see it fall i know it won’t come back, but for some reson that seems ok. I feel better knowing, feeling that i’m still alive. I’m not dead yet but I want to be. Knowing this makes it more timpting. Move the knife from my wrists to my neck just to die. Yet I don’t want to die for one person, I don’t want them to feel as it is there falt. No it would not be his falt, it’s every one else’s. They don’t know what they have drove me to, they won’t know untill I try to kill one of them. I need the perfict plane first or to get some sanity back. I’m ready to die at a young age and I feel like killing someone as well. Any help will be taken email me.

This site is shit if u wanna read my poetry go to www.gothictears.com my name is SilentTears this website is way too confusing 4 me see ya Jen

Today i bleed with blood unspilt.I pray to feed on thoese whom have no guilt.Bring the joy of all your good down and place on me a smerk and a frown,i need no sympathy just a knife and my axe to bring with me.Alone in this darkness i am found,still screaming your name while the world turns round,
once again ive been cheated out of love,my helly love sent from above….above my crystal ball suffering in this death filled hall i sit in this corner as i watch you fall.Memories shred through my mind i could have never found what was so hard to find,but now im caughing up blood and my eyes twitch and water while i sing a silent song of the worst thats not so much odder.Remember you struck the imposeable pose while the world just stuck up its nose im hurt so much but my anger still
flows just like the moon lite glows while the wind blows.Its all
unheard but all you have to do is say the word and nothing else matters its all so upserd.Up rooted and under stormed my
axe swings down to command the hoard it seems so exciteing but im still so bored with out you at my side i feel so ignored.
Blind but still i see everything even now more clearly that the
whole world is on the otherside should i run away go find
some place to hide,NO i will not run away i stay here and fight for my right to grave and play the darkest corners while shatter once nite turns to day and slowly mutate and become a better part of it all that you can hate,could you try to relate but of corse you couldnt not that you wouldnt its just that all knowing all but you shouldnt it wouldnt matter if you did the closes that theyve come is just to cry but they lie they didnt even really try but theyll soon see how my axe can fly then theyll know what its like to die,i would die with no regreats spred no rumors give no threats just know that even though im gone and out of site im still……..gonna be alright.

Why is it that when one falls in love everything they ever thought was right, whatever logic they had, and whatever they believed in means nothing and is reshaped by love.
There is no logic to love everything that while in love is pure emotion, no thinking is involved. Beliefs, rights and wrongs all are changed by love. Beliefs are still there but they have less meaning, right and wrong have no meaning because when your in love there is only right nothing that happens is ever wrong. But when one falls out of love and only then does the reasoning, beliefs, and the rightts and wrongs come back. Everyhting that that happened seems like a blur and when the love ends does it all comeback to haunt u. Every moment, every kiss, every embrace, it all stays with u. And for those of us say they have forgotten those things on which love is based on after it ends are liars. It can be hidden, or stored away but forgotten; that can never be. For one smell, one touch, one look can bring them all back to haunt u, to make u cry. Love does nothing but cause pain. I have been through it and it did me no good. This may be a pesimistic attiude but it is the truth. Love is the root of all evils.

Please comment on this, try and prove me wrong, or change my mind.