Angering the little one

That night everything went so wrong…
(If I finish the story on here *since it’s really a book I’m working on* you’ll understand the title)

That night after the yelling after the pain I walked straight out of that house. I couldn’t stand the pain my mother consistantly gave me. I took my car drove as far as I could to the nearest bay. As I stepped out of the car I looked out to the sea and wondered if I should die how far it would take me. I stepped up and laid on the hood and closed my eyes when suddenly I felt someone close. I jumped off and looked around. I figured it was the wind until a dark figure, not much taller than I, stood infront of me. I backed away, but somehow I felt comfortable. The figure whispered in my ear: “I am here to save you.” Not knowing what the hell this figured wanted I asked: “Who are you?”. A reply with a soft lovely voice said: “I am Death herself, come to me and I shall show you the way.” Her voice was intriguing, I wasn’t sure what she was going to do. She came into the light of the headlights of my car. She was beautiful beyond belief. I asked her what was to become of me and she only answered with a simple: “Come to me.”, Her command was very overpowering. I walked, slowly and cautiously, to her. “Diana, I shall train you well, everything you want you shall have, although you shall only travel by night for the day will make you suffer great pain.” I had to think of what she just told me, my female heart dropped when I realized what she meant. Before I could pull away she had me by the neck, slid a hand up my shirt, placed her hand between my breasts at my heart. I felt myself loosing my ground and before I knew it I was back in the car. Everything was blurry as I was in the passengers sit, I reached up to my neck and felt a thick liquid. I pulled my hand to my face and I noticed blood at my fingertips, I looked to the driver and she looked to me, looked through the window and I fell out again.
When I awoke again I found myself in a bed, I got up and my head began to spin, ignoring it I got to my feet and looked around. I was in some kind of underground place. I saw the women who called herself Death and she came to me with a smile. I wasn’t quite sure what made her so happy, but she came to me and asked if I was alright. “I think so,” I began, “Where am I?” She replied: “You are in my lair, hell, your in my house.” I paused, “What happened? Was there an accident?” She replied: “No, and what happened you’ll figure out very soon.” Not knowing what she meant I couldn’t take the words she spoke, I remembered the night before and ran away from her. I looked behind me and she wasn’t there, I tumbled onto something and I looked down to see what held me and it was her. Surprised, I couldn’t move. She took me by the arms and rolled me over to straddle me. I tried to slide away, but her strength kept me in one place and with my headache the hold made me feel worse. She smiled and laughed as though enjoying it. I felt a sharp pain in my head again and I fainted.
The second day I arose in the same bed with Death beside me. The pain was gone and the wound on my neck had healed, so quickly it was freaky. I felt in great health. Death arose and smiled at me. “Feeling well I see,” She said with her soft voice. “Yes, much better.”
“Great, than we shall begin our training,” Death said to me. I was taken away from the upstairs and down into a dark basement, or so it looked like. All day she showed me combat moves and how to bite people, the night to come I was to perform my first kill. During the training we actually had a conversation and began to know eachother more.
The night came and I was axious to use the skills I had learned earlier. I had reason to believe that I was ready, since Death told me I was a quick learner “more fun” is what she added to the end of her sentance. I saw a nice lil preppy girl walking the campus of her school. “Go!” Death said to me. I gathered my courage, snuck up behind my pray, placed my hand at her mouth and pulled her off her feet into the bushes. Death came up behind me, as I straddled the strangling girl, “Now, as I do, place your hand at her heart, drink until you feel it stop to beat, and as soon as you feel it stop, pull away, otherwise you’ll be sick.” I did as she told me, I sunk my fangs into the neck of the girl, placed my hand at her heart and drank away. I pulled away as soon as her heart stopped at yet I wanted more…

I’m gonna stop at that. I’ll add more if I see fit to. Thanx in advance for posting and reading this entry.

7 comments

  1. UMMMMMMMM< WHY DID YOU MAKE DEATH A FUCKIN VAMPIRE??????? SORRY TO TELL YA< BUT NO ONE IS REALLY GONNA BUY THIS IF YOU EVER MAKE IT INTO A BOOK. ITS...UMMMMMMMM, whats the word i'm looking for? OH YEAH< IT SUCKS!!

  2. grow balls, or ovaries, and use your name next time you comment like this….ever heard of constructive critisizm? And yes, I am aware that I can’t spell.

  3. ERm, yeah. i think you kind of need to expand the plot and explore your imagery a bit more. It’s got potential as an outline, but to be honest it’s really clichéd and a little confused.

  4. u people dont need to critisize sad_lifes work.ok?1 out of 3 made a GOOD comment to her.Dont be ***** wenches okay?Let me see ur ***** good work?yeah thats what i thought.if u dont havin something nice to say,dont say anything at all.Sad_life i know 4 a fact ur a good writer.Ive seen ur stories b4 and i loved em,keep it up hunnie.

  5. I loved that, it was very interesting and i think you should expand on it, it has potential.

  6. I’ll agree that the first comment should be completely disregarded. It wasn’t constructive and I truly think people like that should be banned from the site. BUT – There’s nothing wrong with criticism you know. As long as it’s kept constructive, useful and civil, there’s nothing wrong with expressing an opinion. You have the right to judge my work just as I have the right to judge yours. If you want, feel free to post criticism on mine, I’ll accept that.

    Sad_life, true, it is one rather long cliche. It’s nothing that hasn’t been done before over and over, but then so is most writing. The key is doing it better than it’s been done before. Expand, embroider and embellish because otherwise you’re in danger of blending into the background, and that would be sad because you have talent.
    B.

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