----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A true man is not made with brawn, but with words and power.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tainted. So full of filth. This house needs to be decontaminated soon.
Titus Monrow was in a foul mood. The smell of fresh blood surrounds him, whetting his appetite for his usual half-raw steak at the dining table. Yet, he could not touch a single person there. The mindless, less intelligent mortals were all laughing at something, but he did not understand how good humour could possibly be spouting out from someone lesser; or perhaps they were laughing at their own limited capabilities.
His conclusion- he was surrounded by a horde of inferior moronic baboons that were determined to shake their neon asses at him.
Bored, he eyed at the lineup of scantily-clad waitresses serving out the next dish, half-expecting to see his adopted ‘Uncle Robert’ flirting and teasing ceaselessly with some unfortunate girl who would, without doubt, end up in his bed for that night. It was a bad habit of Robert, but the raven-haired vampire could care less about his ‘uncle’; it wasn’t his business anyway. Unless if, of course, he somehow managed to incur the wrath of the ‘Dark Soul’, Rolestin.
Furrowing his brows at that thought of the ‘Dark Soul’, he hoped that it would stay out of his face. Rumour was that Rolestin loved to interfere, especially in affairs of the vampire hierarchy.
Rolestin, you’ll learn never to mess with me, Titus Ryo Yu, regardless of who, or what, you are.
His blood ruby gaze pored holes through the majestic tapestry that bore his family emblem, reminding him of his true identity. Deep in thought, he cringed at the sudden outburst of deep animalistic guffaws coming from the rest of his guests that were uplifted only by a minority of females in the crowd.
Ironically, Titus was the host of this ridiculous gathering. Loathing it as much as he wanted, it was necessary to keep in contact with these morons if he wanted to play the game of power. They were still of use to him; and Titus, the President of the top listed company ‘Elitism’ could ill-afford to be careless.
“You, boy, get Phy here right now,” commanded Titus in a smooth rolling voice, scaring the servant he was addressing by speaking up so abruptly. After attempting to do a series of formal greetings and awkward bows, the scrawny lad picked up his wits and went in search for Titus’s most trusted aide and friend, Phy Leonard.
Moments later, a loud resounding crash reverberated throughout the hall.
“Sir, I am so sorry! Let me help you clean it up. I’m really terribly sorry, Sir,” came the profuse apologies of the careless waiter, “I should have seen the boy heading straight on for me.”
Full lips parted to give a smirk as Titus watched the scene unfold, the waiter trying his best to clear the pink stain of flavoured Martini on the tuxedo of a stranger. To him, that minor accident was more interesting than listening to the ongoing conversation. Sharp eyes discerned the situation, and Titus’s instincts screamed joy and horror at him at the sight. His smirk grew to be a full, predator-like grin as an urge to mess around with the well-built man overwhelmed him. Withdrawing gracefully from his seat at the head of the table with a small excuse, Titus strode over to block his victim who was headed towards the washroom, exhibiting his Alpha Male flair.
Titus licked his lips in anticipation.
-
His face schooled into a picture of calm and nonchalance, Felix Ford stepped away from the clumsy waiter who was rubbing at his chest frantically before he stopped the action with a pointed glance and a touch. The Martini caused his white shirt to plaster to his chest, and it was starting to feel uncomfortable. Turning around to get to the washroom to clean up, Felix realized that a torso was blocking his path- and that another well-dressed man was stepping up right beside the first person.
“It seems like you prefer your shirt pink, my friend,” chuckled the first person, whose ruby red eyes were glimmering in delight under the chandelier lights, “don’t you just agree with me, Phy?”
Phy offered a small smile in return. Felix remained silent.
“And, it also seems to me that you really like your hair in a mop-head hairstyle, as well as clothes that look un-ironed… which, of course, must be one of the mainstream fashionables that I’d lost touch with. Such a shame, such a shame… Oh, and please do pardon me for my ignorance.”
To anyone else but the three of them, Titus, Phy and Felix appeared to be engaged in small talk, possibly about the future of ‘Elitism’ and how it could become stronger and wealthier in the future.
“I appreciate your compliment, Mr.-” Felix started.
“Mr. Titus Monrow,” Phy provided, speaking on behalf of Titus.
“… Mr. Monrow. Personally, I very much prefer my white shirt to stay pristine- and if you may excuse me, I have to tend to my pink shirt.”
“Of course, Mr.-” Titus shot Felix a questioning look.
“Felix Ford.”
“… Mr. Ford. I believe that my uncle Robert definitely has better sense than to invite someone who has bad taste in shirts.”
“And of course it is the case. Actually, Mr. Monrow, if you don’t mind me saying this… but being the host for today, you should know when and when not to mind the business of others. Good day.”
A polite smile gracing his handsome face as he watched Titus’s eyes narrowing, Felix walked past the two gentlemen, the heels of his boots clicking against the polished floor rhythmically.
What a nice host we have. Thankfully, Thyra did not have a chance of meeting Mr. Monrow… She might have liked the challenge though… It’s a pity that she had some last minute affairs to attend to.
Eyes black as coal watched in interest from afar as the two striking males brushed off each other, tension left thick in the air where they last stood.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
What is love? Is it not a hurricane that renders you helpless and lost?
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She loved the wind- the wind that whipped harshly against her as she rode her death machine at insane speeds; the wind that was cool at an instantaneous touch and icy when that was prolonged; the wind that blew all her worries and thoughts away. Sometimes she rode without her helmet on, enjoying the feel of that invisible hand messing with her dark hair, like how she adores messing with her own hair such that it always appeared unruly at the best times. On other occasions, she rode in the rain- in the chilling, wet downpour with her waterproof leatherwear… like what she was doing now.
Or what Athena would have continued doing, if she had not realized that she’d bypassed a stationary orange sports car a few seconds ago, whereby the woman was struggling with the merciless wind over an umbrella with one hand was someone rather familiar. Her Good Samaritan instincts kicked at her, urging her to turn back and help the woman in obvious distress.
Darn… just when I’m starting to feel hungry too…
Athena sighed as she slowed down to a halt to the right side of the road. Reversing her sports bike, she travelled some way back to the convertible, oblivious to the curses of other drivers on the road as she wound in and out against the traffic.
The continuous bombardment of the sound of horns seemed to increase in volume, and the lady clutching tightly to her to-be-runaway umbrella turned away from her hissing engine in curiosity, wondering what had caused the commotion. The last thing she expected to see was the sight of a shapely biker wrapped in tight leathers and moving against the traffic towards her with expert maneuvers. She felt her throat run dry as the rider stopped in front of her and took off her helmet, exposing short dark hair with blond streaks and hauntingly familiar burgundy eyes to the heavy rain.
It’s her. It was a concurrent thought that ran through both their minds at that moment.
“Uh… Hi?” started Athena hesitantly, “you look like you need some help here.”
Given the way they had parted, a tension lingered in the air surrounding them. There was a momentary silence, and Thyra shifted slightly away from Athena without thought, at a loss for words.
Recovering herself soon after, she replied coolly, “you’re the person I met yesterday at the club right? Your name’s Athena.”
“Yea… I’m glad you remembered me. Hmm… your engine’s hissing- that’s never good. Did you call the tow trucks yet?”
Thyra shot her with a sarcastic expression, “well, I suppose I have to inform you that I happen to have a very good memory, especially in regard to someone whose saw fit to kiss me recklessly and was consequently the first person I’d slapped that day? Besides, I take pleasure in the fact that I know enough to call the tow truck.”
“Ouch. Hey woman-”
“I have a name, and it’s most certainly not ‘woman’ like the one you called me a few seconds ago. I would very much prefer is you addressed me as you should.”
“Okay, okay, relax already. I’m only trying to help, there’s no need to be so grouchy.”
“I’m not being grouchy at all.”
“Right…” Athena rolled her eyes.
Grey orbs looked expectantly at Athena’s ruby ones, starkly aware that Athena was standing the rain while she was still safely dry under the shelter of the large umbrella.
“Thyra.” Athena uttered her name softly, subconsciously knowing the message hidden behind those hypnotic eyes of hers. “Thyra.”
At the sound of her name being uttered in a way she had never heard before, Thyra felt something flutter in her insides. She was mildly intoxicated by Athena’s voice and the effect of the caressing quality the low and soothing sound had on her name. Again, the kiss from last night seemed to tingle on her lips. However, she brushed it all away.
It must be the rain that’s making me feel all these strange sensations. It doesn’t otherwise make any sense.
“Good, at least you remembered my name too,” she said in a pleased tone. “Now we can be friends.”
“I’d be glad to… hey, since we got that right, how ‘bout we do that friends thing and I offer you a ride to wherever you want to go? That is, if you don’t mind getting that fanciful white dress wet for a while.”
“For a while?” Thyra inquired, “Why would it be only for a while?”
“You’ll see,” Athena grinned proudly, “c’mon, let’s go. I think I’m wet enough already. My hair’s getting all soggy. By the way, Thyra, that white dress with all that purple stuff suits you pretty well…”
Moving over to her precious bike, Athena never noticed the slight blush on Thyra’s cheeks as she settled down into the driver’s seat and steadied the bike for Thyra to climb on.
“Here, you can have the helmet. I honestly think that you wouldn’t want wet hair to be splattered all over your face. Hold on tight to the sides of the bike, or me, if you would rather,” she offered graciously.
“Thanks.”
Without warning, Athena felt a carnal hunger whelming up within her at the close proximity as Thyra clambered onto the bike. It threatened to devour the human near her and she found herself leaning nearer and turning towards Thyra, closing the distance between them slightly.
Rule number 12: Athena, you do not bite your friends and acquaintances.
Shaking herself slightly, Athena abruptly stopped herself from advancing on the unsuspecting Thyra, recalling her unwritten rule about feeding.
Although she smells really nice, I guess it wouldn’t be polite of me to suddenly attack her…
Licking her lips, she thought of how Thyra would have reacted if she saw her sprouting fanged teeth all of a sudden.
Roll her eyes and call me childish, probably.
Without wasting any more time, Athena turned towards to the street, a faint smile gracing her features at that thought. She kicked the ignition into gear and roared down the road at a high speed with ease, the image before her blurred with the high velocity she rode at. On the passenger seat behind her, Thyra’s gaze was affixed onto Athena’s wild and wet hair waving in the wind, and she thought of how it would be like to lead a devil-may-care life like Athena. Riding with the cool wind billowing against her, a feeling of ease overcame her gradually.
A few times throughout the ride, Thyra caught her hands sneaking out of their position on the side of the machine and inching towards the slim waist in front of her.
Thyra wondered why her hands were not under her command, as she eventually snaked her arms around Athena’s waist.
It must be the rain.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Ok, spill it.”
“What? It’s nothing…”
Pink, pretty lips let out a sigh in exasperation. Long, sleek fingers filed the nails of her right hand patiently.
“Come on… You know you can’t hide anything from me, I can read you easier than I do a book.”
“Dear lady, can’t you believe me for once?”
“Not since the time you tried to seduce me while I was drunk.”
Athena smirked, an idea forming in her head.
“Like this?”
Leaning in to invade her private space, Athena draped her arm over the shoulder of the other girl and closed the distance between her fangs and the pale neck that was partially concealed by shoulder length hair…
… Only to have an Elmo plush toy stuffed right into her face.
“This, my lovely Elmo, is the best way to stop a perverted vampire like you. He’s my hero!”
Dark brows twitched in reply.
“I hate that Elmo,” she bemoaned. “I don’t see why you’re so in love with it.”
Natasha Perach, owner of the pair of pretty pink lips and lovely tanned hair, stopped filing her nails and laughed at Athena, her azure eyes shining in mirth. After a pause, Athena could not help but grin at her friend. When her laughter subsided, Natasha stared knowingly at Athena, waiting for her to respond.
“It must be something I did in my previous life. I can’t believe that I could know someone like you! You’re such a tyrant, despite your size. To think I’m stuck with you for the rest of my immortality.” After a short pause, Athena surrendered. “Fine, I met someone interesting. Are you happy now, best friend?”
A briefest moment of sorrow passed through those beautiful azure eyes at that sentence, but it soon took on a brighter glint as Natasha replied cheekily, “Are you sure she didn’t get eaten by you? I think you have that capacity in your black hole of an appetite for her.”
“I don’t think I can eat someone as spiky as a hedgehog yet, but she gives me the lovely chills.” A faraway look in her eyes, Athena muttered more to herself than to her friend, “then again, she definitely seems delicious.”
Natasha rubbed the dark streaked hair of her friend, “you, must be the only person I know who thinks that people can be eaten. I pity the girl, whoever she is, for being acquainted with someone as cranky as you.”
Sleek fingers tickled the sides of the dark-haired vampire.
“Hey!”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jun 18, 2008
Chapter 1. Not the ordinary girl
If time could be reversed, let us not have met.
If there were Gods who would listen, please twirl her fate away from mine in the next life.
If there were punishment to be meted out, let them all befall upon me.
If the night fades away and dawn never comes, please tell her…
“I love you, forever and ever.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Holding her close, the smell of ripe peaches invades my senses. Her scent, I realized, intoxicated by the unique redolence. In the background, the violins drew their steady song as the piano flirts with the relaxed atmosphere. Softly, gently, a strange sensation of warmth settled over me with each step I took. After a moment, my curiosity got the better of me and I chanced a glance at the face of my new dance partner.
Our eyes caught hold of each other in that instantaneous glance and lingered just a second longer.
Looking away awkwardly, I was certain that my cheeks were flushed from the intensity of her gaze. Sleek dark hair, pouty lips, and a pair of striking pale grey eyes that revealed a slight tinge of silver… She had features that would have shamed many women on earth- especially her hands which reflected a pale luminous glow under the spotlight which was, in my opinion, perfectly sculptured. And yet, on this fateful night, I was lucky enough to have her for this romantic waltz.
She reminds me of a dark angel… and somehow… she seems familiar… like I’d known her somewhere from long before…
In my daze, I didn’t realize that the song had changed until I felt her withdrawing from me, presumably seeking another partner.
I don’t even know her name… If only…
“No!” A hoarse, almost desperate cry escaped from my lips. All eyes in the small establishment seemed to direct at me, some with irritation and others, a brief glance of nonchalance. Silently, I cursed but inwardly thanked my instincts for plunging me into this situation and forcefully making the decision for me. I saw her halt in her steps, spinning around gracefully and simply looking at me with polite confusion. Those hauntingly beautiful eyes expressed a flicker of interest as I moved nearer to her and boldly grabbed her hand.
“My most humble apologies for interrupting the music, ladies. Please continue.” Taking a gracious bow to everyone on the dance floor, I pulled the mildly surprised girl to the nearest table and sat her down on the plush seats.
“Yes? How may I help you, Miss…?”
“Athena. Athena K. Lavourigh. That’s my name.”
She crossed her legs beneath the sequined dress she wore and took drinks from a passing waitress. Relaxing herself visibly on the couch, she took a slow sip of the transparent liquor. Intrigued by her composure, I waited patiently for her reply.
“Well, Miss Lavourigh, I suppose you have some business with me after whisking my presence away from the dance floor?”
It certainly wasn’t the response I had foreseen. Had I been too optimistic if I’d wanted her to start some casual conversation with a seemingly rude stranger? Or to introduce herself?
“May I have the pleasure of making acquaintances with you?” I replied, after the briefest pause. “Perhaps I could ask for your name?”
Without any apparent warning, her face appeared inches away from mine as she leant over the small table, her gaze turning chiller by the second. “And why would you want to know me?”
Being the person I am, I wasn’t one to back down from a challenge… and this beautiful being here gave me one… right here, right now.
My own blood red orbs pored upon hers for a moment before I gave a slight smirk and closed the distance between us in a sudden quick motion.
Our lips met.
The taste of her… is far better than anything I’ve ever tried…
SMACK!
I pull back slowly, cheek still stinging from the slap the stranger had given me. Inclining towards my seat, I observed as she stood up and made to leave just like many others before her. The many others whom I had tried to seduce but failed in this very same place; it was like a déjà vu. Now, a weird feeling was blossoming within me at the thought that I might never see her again - and it bewildered me.
Forget it, Athena; she’s just another pretty girl.
Never in my dreams did I expect her to turn around, scribble something on a scrap piece of paper, and throw it towards me.
It read, “Thyra. Thyra A. Walter.”
The growing distance between me and her retreating back was imprinted deeply into my memory.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If there were a million fishes in the ocean, I’m sure fate brought this special one to me.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The night after was a restless one.
The streetlight seemed far too bright outside the window, the strong white rays piercing through the light material of the curtains. The wind was howling in the background, with the accompaniment of the constant pitter patter of rain that varied in strength as time dragged by. The violent sloshing against the window like someone up there was seriously upset had lasted for a prolonged period before it declined into soft, gentle strokes down the window panes.
Athena, Athena, Athena. Why are you pacing around the room when you should be out there picking up some poor lost souls trapped in the rain?
Halting in her steps, Athena flopped onto her bed, hands propping her head up as she stared at the silver hands of the portable clock on her bedside table.
What are you doing, lying in your bed and waiting for things to happen? This is so unlike you.
She closed her eyes, recalling the unique scent of peaches of the girl possessing the silvery grey eyes, and the soft velvety feel of lips against lips.
Thyra A. Walter… Thyra…
Her lips murmured the name of the girl occupying her thoughts; again, and again, repeating the two syllables.
Her name… rolls off my tongue so naturally… It’s almost as if my lips were made to say these words.
…… That’s right… this is so totally not like me.
In a swift motion, she leapt up from the bed and removed her clothing that was foul with sweat. Chuckling at what she sees as her reflection, Athena entered the bathroom and prepared herself for a long night. After all, the night was still young.
Before she went out in the rain, a finger traced the cursive words of the name she had been thinking about, committing every single detail of the paper to her memory and pushing it to the back of her mind.
It’s time to visit my favourite source of information.
Athena had something more important to do than researching on a random girl she met in a bar.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Felix R. Ford, short for Felix Rogan Ford, was tapping his foot rhythmically on the carpeted floor, following the drumbeats that the radio belted out. The messy mob of dark brown, almost black hair on his head seemed to dance in tune with his tapping, while blue eyes rolled in defeat as his best friend went into her room for the thousandth time tonight to change her outfit and make up. Waiting for a certain Thyra Walter was certainly a daunting task, something which no man without the patience of a rock could undertake. If the well-built businessman had not been drilled to remain patient and calm under any circumstances by his father from young, Felix would had have long gone on to the dance without his partner.
“Felix, how’s this look?”
Sapphire eyes glanced over, and he gave a low whistle of appreciation, hands rubbing at his cleanly shaven chin thoughtfully.
“It’s definitely enough to turn the heads of everyone in the room, milady. The white with purple suits you very well.”
Scrutinizing her own reflection in the full-length mirror, Thyra felt that she was finally presentable. Her pale complexion was perfectly complemented by the white, while the simple purple cuffs and lining brought out her grey eyes to the attention. Her dark hair was elegantly tied up, and the expensive heels completed the image of someone sexy but definitely not shallow.
“Looks like you’ve decided on this. Shall I call the chauffeurs and get the cars ready now?”
Felix rose up gracefully from the couch he lounged on, every movement like the commercial tiger he was. No one ever doubted or crossed Felix Ford in the business world, for each attack on him would incur repercussions that left you maimed like the big cat’s carcass after a kill. Such was his reputation that even the paparazzi steered clear of this young tycoon.
Right now, Felix the Tiger was bringing his equally cunning friend and business confidante Thyra Walter to an annual business ballroom event where he would start his hunt.
“Felix, promise me that you’ll leave one or two of those bigoted idiots for me later on.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Glasses thrown aside while he rubbed at his tired eyes, Gareth Darren Abel turned to face a woman dressed in a tight-fitting black jacket and leather pants who was poking through some of his files on the desk. He flashed her triumphant grin as a low hum of the printer sounded in the background, indicating that the registration had been completed successfully and was currently being printed out.
She chuckled at the prideful sea-green colour of Gareth’s eyes and ruffled his tousled strawberry blonde hair before landing a friendly slap on his shoulder.
“Hah! I knew you could definitely do it within half an hour! Guess I didn’t come to the wrong person after all. Thank goodness for the day I met you, for I can never make one of these to work for me the way you can,” she mused. “I swear that these gadgets and I can’t communicate.”
“Yeah, glad that you know that. I still haven’t forgotten the time where you nearly destroyed my newest hyper speed device from the last visit. Now, don’t forget the dinner that you’d promised me, or I’ll be pitching bananas at you till you remember.” He joked, “Or maybe I’ll hang garlic wreaths outside your apartment.”
A choke was heard at that statement, and she treated him with a dose of burgundy killer stares.
“If you dare pull that garlic trick on me, I’ll haunt you till your dying day with power shortages. God knows I avoid that stuff like a plague.”
“Ah, indeed, there’s certainly no greater fury than that of a woman’s wrath. I lament at my misfortune to have known one such as the all mighty Athena Lavourigh. All hail Queen Athena! Danger to all things mechanized.”
“Oh shut up, geek-boy.”
“Touché.”
Gareth picked up the document that was freshly printed, reading through it once to ensure the complete resemblance of it to the document he hacked into. Athena peered over his shoulder, trying to read the miniscule words in ink.
“All right, everything seems to be in order. I’d better keep this for you, just in case. By the way, you’re now officially a member of the higher society as a distant cousin of Felix Ford, and no paparazzi would ever dare look up into your profile for fear of that guy. And I’ve gotta add that he’s one hot hunk. Just look at his defined shoulders on TV!”
Athena rolled her eyes. There was no helping Gareth when he began his amble down the path of ‘I desperately need to get laid’ syndrome. Her slender frame stood up to leave, knowing that Gareth was long used to her disappearing on him while he was rambling on; she was starting to feel the effect of her hunger pangs.
However, a glint of silver from the windowsill caught her interest just as she was pulling at the straps of her helmet at the door and readying herself for the bike ride later on. A thought dawned upon her, and she retreated back to Gareth’s room.
“Hm? You actually came back?” he asked, surprised by her re-entrance.
“Gareth, can you help me find out the personal details of this woman called Thyra A. Walter?”
The lean blonde sighed in defeat and cracked his stiff knuckles.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)