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Writer
Join Date: Oct 2004
Location: London, UK
Posts: 40
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As I long as I breathe, I hope.
On the muddy ground of the cells beneath the stadium, pools of liquid lay here and there. Some were of water, where the underground excavation had broken sea level. Some of blood, sweat, tears and excrements of those unfortunate enough to be cast down here and locked away indefinitely. A musty smell lingered in the air and the walls were stained in various places as bloody executions were carried out on those who misbehaved. A dark figure became illuminated as a yellow glow filtered through the rusted iron railings. His body was limp and his breathing heavy. Droplets of water fell from the windowsill of the caged window, landing on his pale exposed neck. His unwashed hair fell across his face as he knelt, unmoving, in the far corner of the chamber, facing the door. He did not raise his head as this door creaked open, but as he heard a body being thrown to the floor in front of him his head snapped up.
*
The crowd came alive as the Gladiators entered the caged stadium before them. Laughter and cheering rang through the bars of the cage and one after the other, bound together by chains, the damned creatures walked. - They had been tortured, mocked, beaten and starved of the nectar they so desperately needed. Among those damned walked Syriin. Although she was an agile being, her fast movements and surprising strength could not help her now. Here she stood, barely able to hold her own head up, her life slowly dripping down onto the sand in the form of a demonic crimson. Her cloudy grey eyes cast upwards, beholding with contempt for her masters. Mortals keeping vampires for the sole purpose of entertainment. And here they stood merely to satisfy the mortal craving for bloodlust. No wonder her kind hated them so.
The exit of the cage was slammed shut behind her, feeling the vibrations echo through the bars a sickening shiver ran down her spine. She realised she had to fight. Or die. Syriin raised her head painfully, her long hair, matted with sweat, hanging over her limp shoulders. She stared at the crowd, a deer caught in headlights and her heart began to pound furiously beneath her tattered clothing. She closed her heavy eyes and squeezed them tightly holding back the stinging tears. “They condemn us because they do not understand.” She muttered quietly under her breath, accepting the inevitable. Slowly she raised a bandaged hand and touched the collar around her neck. She was so hungry and was disgusted to find that she was willing to fight and kill her own brothers and sisters if it meant tasting the bittersweet blood in the pit of her hollow stomach again. The drumming began. The game had begun.
Syriin's stomach jumped up to her throat as the chains that bound her to the others dropped to the floor with an almighty CLANG! Fresh human blood was poured on herself and the vampires around her. The intoxicating iron odour tantalised her senses driving her mind wild. For a brief moment she and the others stood, frozen by fear. Soon enough their animal instincts took control and the stadium was filled with the sounds of violent delight. Syriin looked down, nauseated, as slick bloody bile saturated her hands. Closing her eyes she could feel a comforting warmth growing within her. A warmth that spread through every organ in her body and she could feel every cell tingling, healing. Her eyes flew open and her senses flared to life. With her bloody fangs unsheathed she dug her right foot into the hot sand and stood her ground. She had never felt so alive.
The crowd roared and the ground beneath her pulsated as a sharp voice echoed around her, speaking words in a tongue impossible to comprehend by her people, known only in distant records as 'English'. Out of breath and still posed waiting for another attack, Syriin did not realise that it was over. That she would live to see tomorrow's bloodshed. Even though she was victorious she knew she had lost. She had given in to her hunger and for this she had given the humans what they wanted. They loved seeing vampyric blood clotting the grains of sand together. For them, this was power. The overwhelming smell of death invaded her senses and caused her to go into a state of panic. Leaping over the remains of vampires she charged at one side of the cage, causing it to rattle furiously. She took pleasure in noting that this had caused the humans to disperse, but the smell of their adrenalin fuelled fear threw her into a fit of rage and she fell, exhausted, onto the cold, hollow corpses.
“As long as I breathe, I hope!” she exclaimed, her voice quivering like a bowstrings pulse, as she was dragged out of the arena by her hair. She did not fight back as she was only too glad to leave that all behind her.
*
He crawled to her side and instinctively began licking the blood off of her. He knew she was one of his kind, and he knew that she had just experienced what he had the previous night. Cannibalism. He could only feel pity for the weary girl that lay before him. She was too young to have to encounter these bloodthirsty humans. As darkness engulfed the cell the temperature dropped dramatically. He scooped her into his arms and brushed blood-soaked hair away from her eyes. Running a nail over her bruised cheek he gasped as her eyes fluttered open. She struggled, trying to release herself from his grip, but he held her tightly and calmed her with a tongue fluent in hers. Syriin let her body relax and listened to his soothing voice as she nestled in his arms, trusting the stranger. His name was Dagger. Like her he had feasted on the blood of his own. He too had felt the indescribable urge it gave him to attack his oppressors. He licked his lips. Unlike Syriin, he had enjoyed having the life of a vampire flowing down his throat. His body had tingled as the strength of his demonic victim seeped into every cell of his body, bringing him to life. He had enjoyed feeling his opponent give up so easily and crumple to the floor, as light as a feather, as cold as his heart, never to rise again. He felt his fangs unsheathe and he ran his blistering tongue over them. He realised he had stopped talking. Looking down at the young vampire in his arms he was shocked to see her own fangs unsheathed and a familiar thirsty sparkle in her eyes. He must've been wrong about her. She had enjoyed it. A grin set upon his face and she hooked a hand around his neck, pulling his head to hers, pulling his mouth to hers.
*
From the instant that she had awoken to find herself in his arms she knew he was special. Yes she had struggled, but she wasn’t going to admit she loved feeling him forcing her down, back into his arms. With his intense eyes he had searched her body and she felt herself tingle with delight as a voice like silk flowed from his blood-smeared mouth. She liked how his name rolled off her tongue and she whispered it repeatedly as she curled around his body and in his arms. There she lay, listening to him talk of past kills, of all the kinds of blood he had tasted - English, Chinese, and African. - He was clearly a more experienced vampire. She wondered how old he was exactly. She heard his voice rise as he talked about tasting vampire blood and she felt her stomach turn. Syriin had not enjoyed taking the life of another, but the passion in his voice made her heart pound and she could feel her fangs unsheathe. Running her tongue over them she raised her gaze to meet his. Those intense eyes pulled her in deeper and as he grinned she saw his own fangs had been released. She must have him. Her heart fluttered as she pulled him down to her and felt his tongue explore her mouth.
*
Dagger grew excited, as he could taste the blood in Syriin's mouth. He rolled his tongue over her fangs in an attempt to taste more of the demons she had driven them into. He laid her onto the cold, filthy floor and slid his body on top of hers. He took his mouth away from hers and held his hand to her chest, loving the feeling of her heart beating intensely beneath it. She sat up, searching for his mouth. Sliding a hand to her back to support her he started to kiss her neck roughly, searching for the perfect spot to bite, but not kill. He wanted to taste her. He wanted to know what her blood would taste like pouring into his mouth.
How tainted with death would it be? How sweet or how bitter? Would her blood contrast to her life so far as a young vampire – Innocent and pure. How easily would her skin break? How will she react?
All these questions rushes into his head as he found the perfect spot near her collarbone. He ran his hand to the base of her back and pressed his body close to hers. He could feel their skin sticking together with sweat, and as he bit into her he felt her body stiffen and a stifled yelp escape from her throat.
*
Syriin grew excited as she could feel his body pushing against hers. She could feel his hot tongue deep in her mouth, and her body trembled as his hand slid up her side. She could feel her chest rising and falling quicker and she sat up. She wanted to taste him again. She felt his hand on her back and she shivered as their flesh touched through the holes on her top. She closed her eyes and bit down on her bottom lip hard. A bead of blood appeared and made a path down her chin. She raised her right hand to wipe it away the droplet, but as she did he bit into her. She felt a sharp pain shoot through her body. Her hand flew to the back of his head and as she arched her back she gripped onto his hair with all her strength. Questions she could not answer came to her mind as he lay, pressed against her, attached to her neck.
What is he doing? Why is he doing this? And...Why does this feel so good?
As the pain subsided she found herself in a dark void, free from the pain, free from the world outside, and free from the never-ending wait for death.
*
As soon as they were bound together by chains in the break of the morning he knew that she was to die to his hands.
“In this deranged world it’s survival of the fittest. If you’re weak you die. If you’re strong you get to live for another day. So this is what I must do. I must fight until there is no more. I refuse to let myself fall to those mortals. I refuse to have their spawn point and mock me any longer. We are a proud race and if in these slaughters I must eliminate one of my own I will do so to keep up the honour of my family name. I have no fear and I feel no pain of regret and sorrow.”
Dagger thoughts stopped suddenly as he stared at the large oak doors, which loomed over him. He lowered his head and spoke in a quiet voice to her, before holding his head up high and allowing himself to be led forward into the final battle. “Be strong.”
The crowd’s energy echoed through the hollow arena, bouncing off the cheerful children and ardent adults. Many had gathered to witness the end of the vampire season and the circular coliseum was buzzing with noise. Two shadows moved in chorus with each other on the soiled walls of a long dark corridor. Syriin followed behind Dagger, swaying, her breathing quickening with every step. She knew at the end of this tunnel would be the entrance to the stadium; it would mark the beginning of her end.
*
She staggered to her feet, trying to maintain her balance while keeping her enemy in sight. She whimpered out of shock as she saw Dagger standing a few feet from her with a clump of her hair in his clenched fist. She took another step backwards, the familiar sensation of the heated sand pushing up between her toes, and tried to gather her thoughts. She did not truly believe that the being she’d known last night would turn on her so easily. “He’s doing this as a show for those mortals and their offspring. He must be.” She thought, her head beginning to throb. She edged slowly backwards trying to ensure she had a fair bit of ground between herself and the demonic being before her. Brushing her hair back behind her ears she stood up straight and closed her eyes tight, allowing the tears to flow free. There she stood, the sound of the jeering, taunting crowd engulfing her, sending her back to the void. She waited for the kill.
For the second time she pulled herself up from the ground. She wasn’t surprised to see herself giving into her fate of death. No longer did she want to fight. No longer did she want to be a source of entertainment for the murderous mortals who stood, rattling the cage, cheering Dagger on. Taking a deep breath she raised her head slowly to look at the heartless creature that had struck her down twice. She couldn’t feel any hate towards him; she could only feel a powerful warmth within her. Never before had she felt so strongly for another of her race. No, she couldn’t feel any hate towards him. She sighed and wiped a fresh tear from her eye. It didn’t matter how many times she told herself otherwise she knew, in her heart, that this being was meant to be her mate. She knew she couldn’t be with him, so she’d give herself to him in the only way possible now. Sighing she turned her gaze to his. She caught it and they stood, locked within each other for just a few moments before he engulfed her being, and her soul.
*
The chains dropped to their feet and immediately Dagger lunged at Syriin, knocking her from her feet. He dug his own into the ground and posed, waiting for her to rise. Growing impatient with her he leaped forward, grabbing hold of her hair and pulling her up to her feet. Losing his grip she crumpled back to the floor and he could feel an anger growing within him. All he dreamt of was ending this battle, so the time could come for him once again to claim his freedom. He didn’t take his eyes off of her as she rose slowly. Spitting at her he tried all he could to get her to fight back, to make this kill worthwhile. She didn’t take to the bait so he unsheathed his fangs and snapped at her neck, she dodged, lost her footing and went falling to the ground beneath her. He grinned as she rose faster than before. It was at that moment her eyes, alive with passion, caught his. He took in a breath sharply. He knew then what he had to do. Moving effortlessly towards her, his hand was at her back in a matter of seconds. Tilting her head to the side he brushed her cheek gently with his nose and whispered the last words that she’d ever hear from this mouth again.
“I can release you from this pain and you can give me the strength to fight through it. Don’t fight, this is the way it was meant to be.”
He broke her skin and gently drank from the cup of freedom. Her body grew limp. He laid her gently onto the sand and wiped his mouth with the back of her hand. He smiled to himself and enjoyed knowing that he had disappointed his masters by keeping it a clean kill, a gentle one. He could feel her strength and her soul filling his body with life and he turned away, refusing to look at his last victim. The overwhelming smell of death invaded his senses and caused him to go into a state of rage. Leaping over the remains of the vampire he charged at one side of the cage, causing it to rattle furiously. He took pleasure in noting that this had caused the humans to disperse, but the smell of their adrenalin fuelled fear threw him into a fit of rage and he fell, exhausted, onto the cold, hollow corpse.
“As long as I breathe, I hope!” he screamed, his voice full of anger and passion, as he was dragged out of the arena by his hair. He did not fight back; he knew the time would come for that sooner than they would think.
*
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- Fiction writing is great. You can make up almost anything -
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Your use of description was great, and you have a nice, flowing writing style. I also like your unique take on the relationship between humans and vampires, and vampires with one another. I just have a few suggestions, and since this isn't in the critique section, I'm not sure if this is what you wanted. If not, feel free to ignore them.
That is so what happens, i'm 5'2" and always get an armpit in my face and something on my arse!
