The Lust For Blood

[tehodis]

A/N: This is the story that's following the plot I asked for feedback on. I'm making it a Novella, and here be the first chapter.

 

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[align=justify] Chapter One

Lucas of Aragon.

Unexpected Guests.

The End of Lucia.

 

1

Eight stones. Eight flat, grey stones, in front of a algae-smothered lake. Seven stones lying in a pile by a pair of booted feet. Black, buckled boots, the buckles look as if they once were supposed to be silver. The silver is chipped, barely visible anymore, leaving a disgusting rust-brown color. The boots lead up to dirtied, ripped brown fabric. Sullied pants, the ends crammed messily into the boots. Soiled pants held up by a black, irregular-looking belt, with a rust-brown buckle. A stained shirt is stuffed into the grimy brown pants. A shirt with short knife-cut sleeves and a ripped collar. The sleeves cut off to feature a dark, sun-tanned arm, with a dirtied hand at the end. The grubby hand reaches down as short legs bend, it closes over one of the eight stones, eight becomes seven as the stone is thrown across the green surface, only to be dragged down to the depths of the murky water.

A mouth opens in an exasperated sigh, blackened teeth and gums revealed on a tanned, high cheek-boned face. The lips are darkly color and the nose above it is crooked and pointed. Above those are plain brown eyes, a little wide-set, hiding no emotion. Scars decorate the tan cheek, and locks of lank, greasy, chestnut hair fall around the face and into the eyes of what is a boy standing next to a pile of six flat grey stones, in front of an algae smothered lake. This boy was thirteen year old Lucas Rios, of Aragon, Spain.

The brown eyes stared inquisitively before the boy closed them, scowling, and then kicking the pile of stones over he began his slow walk back to the cottage he lived in.

The area around the cottage was void of any other humans but his mother and him, the nearest people were in a town six miles from where they lived. All there was were stretches of forested area, with an occasional lake. The one he was at was the largest of them, but by far the most disgusting and worst for skipping stones. It was also the closest, and although his mother seemed as if she could care less how far from the house she went, he wanted to believe she would care. As such he always went to the closest lake, the one covered in algae. The one horrible for skipping stones.

The trees in the forest area right around their home were always dead, every day of the year. All the other forests in the area had healthy trees and plants, but in their area all of them were leaf-less, and no animals would make it their habitat. Lucas had asked his mother before why it was like this around them, she blamed him. Like she would always do, he would believe she just didn’t want to show that she cared for him, even though she did. His mother was an angel, she had to disguise herself to hide from the Demons in the world. That’s why she would drink that alcohol that could make him dizzy with just the scent. That’s why she would go and take Tercero, their horse, and go out to town - leaving him at home all alone. That’s why she would only come home in the mornings, or the next afternoon, and be missing some of her clothing, but have money stuffed in her satchel.

Lucas neared the Cottage, and he smiled with rotting teeth, speeding up his pace a little to get home to his mother faster. The cottage was small, and there were a couple of holes in the roof. The windows were layered with dust, so much that it was impossible to see through them. The small abode was made with wood, and it was rotting. The door was always loose, and would swing open with a tap of the finger, the hinges would make loud creak as it opened due to the rusting of them. Lucas didn’t care about any of this. And he also didn’t care about the inside, which had less than five pieces of furniture, shared between two rooms. Lucas didn’t even really notice the door ajar, it wasn’t a rare occurrence. The scream that came from inside, past the door was though - and that was what caused Lucas to run the last ten paces to get to the door.

 

 

2

 

There were three people inside the cottage, although Lucas could only see two of them. One was a man with his back to Lucas, tall, Lucas assumed he could even be around seven feet tall. The man was also very slim, with long blonde hair, that was closer to white. The hair swooped all the way down to the man’s lower-back. He had a pale, clawed hand on his hip, and looked very feminine the way he was just standing there, in front of the door to the second room of the house. He was wearing a white outfit with black trim. A high neck, and long sleeves that flared outwards at the wrists. The trousers of the feminine man’s outfit were white with black trim as well, they clung to the man’s legs, and led off to shining black boots. Lucas’ eyes finally managed to glimpse the man’s face. It was a ghostly pale, it looked powdered white even, and vibrant red iris’ with flecks of grey shone against his pale profile, and from underneath his white-blonde bangs. It sent a shiver up Lucas’ spine.

The second person was a woman, with her eyes closed as she leant against one of the dirtied walls of the dusty cottage, her crossed arms sent signals of impatience. She was dressed in a low-necked vibrant red dress with a golden necklace embedded with rubies falling over her collarbone. A very tight looking corset found it’s place around the woman’s torso. The woman’s face was the same ghostly-pale, with the same powdery look, but on the cheeks, a dash of pink could be found. Her lips were crimson, and her nose was perfectly shaped. The top of her head was covered by thick cherry colored hair that fell down to the middle of her back. It was intricately detailed with gold and black. On the top of her right breast was a small symbol that had commonalities with a flower Lucas had seen before in the area, it stuck out in his mind for reasons he was not aware of.

The woman opened her eyes as she opened her mouth to speak, revealing the same red eyes the male had. She closed her mouth almost immediately after opening it, her eyes locking onto Lucas. She gave a small smirk, and pushed herself off the wall, using spidery fingers. She walked towards him slowly as she opened her mouth to speak again, “Lyancaster, we have a visitor.”

The male, who seemed to be ready to speak as well, although to the door, turned to face Lucas along with the woman. He raised a brow, and gave a small smirk. Although his eyes were on Lucas, when he spoke, he spoke to the woman, “Help your Clairone, I’ll finish up with the more pressing business.” And with that, he turned on his heel, white hair flowing dramatically around him and he rapped his knuckles on the closed door, and spoke through the dated wood, “Lucia, why don’t you come out, allow us to talk this through? We just want something from you, nothing significant.”

“Then take it! Whatever it is, take it! Money, the boy, whatever, just take it and go!” Lucas could hear his mother’s voice only vaguely over the pounding of his heart. He was too concerned with the woman coming towards him, the grin on her face revealed beautifully white teeth - as well as two long, pointed fangs that took the place of her incisors. His eyes flew all around the room, until they came upon a dirty, smashed plate a few feet from where he was standing.

 

 

3

 

He didn’t have time to dive for the largest bit of shattered plate before the door to the second room was blown wide open to reveal his mother face-first on the floor, her sandy brown curls covered in dust. There was a small trace of dark red liquid surrounding her head, but she was moving. Shaking, as she tried to get up, her face revealed to have been cut by shrapnel as she lifted it from the floor. The man called Lyancaster took a few long strides and grasped Lucia’s hair tightly, yanking her head upwards, causing her to let out a shriek of pain. He pulled her hair tighter, forcing her to stand, and led her into the main room, where Clairone was tightening her hand around Lucas’ wrist. When Lucia’s green eyes landed upon Lucas, she grimaced, and managed to speak, blood trickling out of her mouth, “This is your fault boy, I’m ashamed to call you my son.” After she spoke, she gathered as much spit as she could, and released it in the direction of her son. Most of it was blood, and it missing by a few feet, landing with a loud splattering sound.

Lyancaster didn’t move for a second, the smirk finally left his face. He glanced up at where Clairone was forcing her fangs to grow to the correct size for feeding, and then at the food. The smirk reappeared, “Clairone, leave him be. There are plenty of humans in the village to feed on.”

The woman looked at Lyancaster with an incredulous look in her eyes, but obeyed. She dropped Lucas’ arm, his wrist bleeding from the clawed fingers, and then walked towards her companion - allowing her teeth to shrink back to regular sized fangs. She crossed her arms, this time with disappointment.

Lucas fell to his knees, staring at his arm, before raising his head and staring at the three. After a few seconds, he hurriedly forced himself up, and then edged his way to the second room.

Lyancaster watched Lucas for mere moments before returning his eyes to Lucia, and removing his hand from her hair, only to move it down to her throat and pull her up so that her feet were off the ground. She began gasping almost immediately as she tried to pull his hand away from her throat with her’s, pained tears racing down her face. Clairone sat there, clearing Lucas’ skin from under her nails, plainly uninterested in what Lyancaster was doing. When she spoke, her voice was full to the brim with a fusion of disappointment and boredom, “Hurry up Lyancaster, if you’re not going to let me take the boy then let’s just get it, and get out. ”

Lyancaster gave a small sigh, and then gave a whispered, “Fine. Sorry, Lucia, we don’t get to have any more fun.”

With that, he dropped her, and at that same moment, his opposite hand shot forward like a bullet from a gun, straight through the cloth of Lucia’s dress, right through the skin of her stomach, right through her body until it exited soaked in blood, from her back. Blood came from her mouth more quickly, and her eyes rolled back to her head, leaving only balls of white. Lyancaster removed his arm, the left sleeve of his shirt now soaked in crimson liquid.

Lucia did not fall to the ground when Lyancaster’s arm was removed, her body, as if pulled by strings, until she was laying in mid-air. Her limbs loose at her sides. From the gaping wound Lyancaster had caused, blood flew into the air, much more than would be in a normal body. Gallons, and gallons of red fluid flowing upwards, disappearing into nothingness.

In the other room, Lucas had managed to crawl under the low bed and was removing a plank from the mouldy floor boards. Hidden in the void below was a hand-gun. He grabbed it, pulling himself out from under the bed and catching the breath he had lost while he was constricted in the tight space. He stood quickly and made his way nimbly to the door, what he saw made him almost cry out, although he held it back. He aimed the gun at the male, who was looking fondly at the seemingly never-ending blood flow, and readied his finger.

But that’s when the blood flow stopped.

A foot above Lucia’s floating body, was the most beautiful stone Lucas had ever seen. It was deep red, and seemed to have things moving around inside it. The light was dim in the room, but it shone brightly, illuminating all around it in a rich red light. Lyancaster’s smirk faded, to make way for an insane grin as he extended his hand forwards. Lucas pulled his finger down on the trigger,. With a bang, a round bullet was shot towards the man who had killed his mother, but his aim was off. Instead of hitting Lyancaster, the bullet collided with the beautiful stone, causing it to crack. And then it began to fade. Lucas was only loosely aware of the sounds around him, his ears were ringing from the bang, and his hand was cut with a slide-bite. He could just barely hear Lyancaster’s angered cries of defiance, and he could see his white hand clutching thin air, where the stone had been just moments before.

Clairone sat there, shocked, as Lucia’s body faded as well, and as Lyancaster rounded on Lucas. His eyes showed unmatched malice and anger, but instead of advancing on Lucas, he simply snapped his fingers, and he was gone in a cloud of wine-red dust, Clairone followed suit, staring at Lucas briefly before doing so.

Lucas stood there, mouth hanging open, although he didn’t realize it. His eyes staring at the room, his mother’s blood spilt, his arm bleeding from Clairone’s grasp and the gun’s slide-bite. He expected himself to wake up gasping in a cold-sweat. But it didn’t happen. He just stood there. And the boy who was fourteen, who was from Aragon, Spain, whose name was Lucas Rios - wasn’t anymore.[/align]

 

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A/N: If you click here you can see how it looks in the real version (this version has the copyright on it)

Your comments, suggestions, opinions, rates, crits, all of that is welcome. I'd like to see what you think of the characters and story so far.

 

P.A/N: In the next chapter, we'll be skipping ahead around 30 years

 

 

The Lust for Blood © 2007 - Melissa Doucette

[Poc]

Wall of text, you have just smashed my eyes.

[tehodis]

Pardon?

[Dante Dimercurio]

Drools down.. going to faint big very big

[tehodis]

Well it's not that long. It's four pages worth (2000 or so words), which is rather short, which is normal for a Novella.

[Jerry OldMaster]

Yeah.

 

Stil,,, if you stretch it out a little.... or maybe fuse chapter 1 and 2....

It is already cool, so write write write and you'll make a nice book8)

[tehodis]

Thanks OldMaster. =D

[Sixty]

wow, i could never hope to write a book this good. it give me a great visual exprience that i could picture perfectly.

[YamiCardMaker]

I like it