Rasheen Perpetua

AUTOMATIC 14

Eugene Macmillan

Her curled brown hair hung down her back, past the hunched over shoulders until it reached where her arms were wrapped around her body – they almost looked like someone else's. If I concentrated enough I had a feeling that I would see her shivering – shuddering – and if I listened hard enough maybe I'd hear her small sobs that she tried to hide. I might be a male but I wasn't completely oblivious to female feelings – it depended on my mood.

I caught up with ease and I watched her quickly wipe away her tears and straighten her back, she thought that she had to act tough for me.

"So you've upgraded from snail speed?" she smiled but any dumbass would see pain behind it. Maybe not pain but fear. The lack of glow in her normally sparkly eyes and the small stains on her cheek – vampires didn't cry blood, for the record.

"You don't have me fooled, sweetheart," I told her as I looked away, I couldn't bear to look at her. Every time her eyes avoided mine was like a stab to the heart because I hadn't taken care of her. Here I was, enjoying being different and enjoying having power over other people yet she acted as though it were the plague. I wanted to slap her and hug her at the same time, "You expect me to believe you're tiny little smile, try harder."

She made her smile larger but most certainly not brighter.

"That's better, psychopathic looks good on you," I chuckled but then added, "I'm here to talk, you know,"

"I know," she whispered in a croaky voice. I waited for her to continue but was only met by an awkward silence. I hated being the one starting a conversation about emotions – I much preferred a joke or even sarcasm to hide my pain but Jane was different. I think she required a push.

"Then tell me why you're sulking when we could be making the best Halloween prank in a century?" I gently pulled her to a stop and turned her to face me.

"I don't know," she didn't meet my eyes and I knew that meant she wasn't going to tell me anything so, in determination, I slowly moved my hand and tilted her chin up slightly so she had to look me in the eye. I couldn't hear anything; all I could see was her. Her lips began to part but she turned away and out of my grip. I was tempted to pull her back and threaten to glue her feet to the road until she talked.

"Do you know how amazing this is?" I asked her quietly. It was a daring question to ask her but I needed her see this from another angle. I wanted her to think something else – think about life in a new way where we could do anything anywhere.

"I'm tempted to think death would be better right now, Eugene." She threw her hands up and swore at the sky, "I don't know shit about vampires. Hell, I didn't even believe in them until yesterday,"

I didn't tell her I had spent half a night researching about them; she'd surely kill me and put me in that pit. I was about to reply to her when I heard a high pitched yell of pain and, just like that, her work mode kicked in. Jane disappeared into the darkness to the source of the scream but my eyes were drawn to movement. I rushed forward and was caught by a strong grip that pinned me to the back of a fence. I'd be a coward if I asked Jane for help so the thought barely crossed my mind before the girl place a finger to her lips before giving a small wheezing cough.

Tangled, black hair framed her pale ivory face as her murky eyes gazed into my own. She was pretty and the lack of heartbeat in my ears told me she was a vampire.

"You're a funny boy," she studied me with fascination and I tried not to shiver in disgust as her soulless eyes trailed down my body, "Your girlfriend goes to the sound but you go to the movement even though everything in your body tells you not to."

"My friend is a lot smarter than me," I retorted purely because I had no idea how to respond to the pretty lady holding me with her claws to my throat.

"Sure about that, just listen for a moment," she went into silence and I could only obey – I didn't exactly want to be killed. I was glad my heart couldn't beat because surely it'd be at a thousand beats a minute. I strained my ears and heard Jane's crunching feet on the gravel across the street and then I heard a gun load. My body tensed. Jane wouldn't use her hearing to the extent that she could.

"Let me go," I hissed and moved my hand but she caught it and twisted it. I couldn't believe she was beating me at this.

"Struggle all you like, pretty boy, it's not going to get you anywhere so you better listen. I'm willing to help her-" I stopped moving at her words, "-by trading my life for hers on the condition that you do one thing." She moved her lips closer to my face, "Remember,"

I couldn't reply. I wasn't good at riddles. All I could hear was the small tap as the gunman stroked the trigger slowly. I nodded my head at her and, like Jane did, she disappeared and then I heard the gunshot. My body launched into action on its own, working to find Jane faster than I had ever bothered to move, and as soon as I found her, someone found us. A new strong grip pushed mine and Jane's bodies away from where I thought the body was. His eyes glowed red for a moment – a powerful burning flame of fire – as he gestured towards the next street.

I quickly turned to see a house with lights. I could've taken him but I wasn't going to embarrass myself – first a deal with a weird vampire girl and now with an angry vampire. I'd rather take the chance and go to the house but I was beginning to think that being a vampire wasn't so simple. Another person jumped down from a roof and bared his fangs. I found myself hissing back but Jane tugged me back.

"What's happening?" her breaths were shallow, even though vampires didn't breath. I guess she really missed being human. I grabbed her hand and we backed away slowly. Suddenly, a crowd – nine or ten vampires – ran from the darkness as though they were being herded away. It reminded me of kicking people out of the bar except the fear in the air was so thick I could barely think of anything else. I led Jane and we followed the crowd – a larger group of hunters – and we went inside the old brick house to find the man I had seen earlier already inside with a body. Tangled and familiar black hair fanned out from her body and a large wooden stake protruding from her chest. I looked away for a moment but I caught Jane's pale complexion staring at the body with her mouth wide open. I realised I wasn't holding her hand anymore. I gently wrapped my hand around hers and she crashed into my body so much that I stumbled back in surprise. Jane never hugged. I told myself this was normal and focussed on the voices.

"The leader of the clan...Caroline...she's dying...a bullet...a stake...what was she doing...several were in the area..." an array of voices only gave me confusion rather than answers. All different levels of freaked-out made the butterflies launch into my stomach. The people surrounding the body seemed older – wiser – so I knew that I needed to be nervous when they were. Call it instinct. I also knew that it was probably my doing, after all, I nodded my head. The vampire, Caroline, went because I agreed to 'remember' and now I was paying the price. I hated guilt, sure I could live with doing a cruel prank but this was death. Did this woman really give herself up for Jane so I would 'remember'? Did I really agree to this when I knew Jane could take care of herself? Could Jane take care of herself?

"Now," a man spoke and the room went into an eerie silence, "What you are about to go through-"

I didn't hear the rest but something told me he was the type of guy to leave something unexplained anyways – like my boss when he threatened to fire me once but obviously I wanted this ending more. Go through...was this good or bad? Suddenly, Jane's body went limp and she fell from my arms. I wasn't one to drop a girl so naturally I went to pick her up only to find I was falling too. The ground disappeared from beneath me and my stomach dropped – the sort of feeling I had felt on a dip in a roller-coaster. I was falling endlessly until everything went black. I wanted to reach up and stopped the piercing sound in them but I was frozen but then it was silent. It was almost peaceful for a moment but then I felt the pain.

I didn't care if anyone called me a wimp again as I screeched out. It was like a thousand needles had been stabbed into my body and now they were all being twisted and dragged up and down my skin. I tried to roll around but my body couldn't move, it was held in place by some sort of invisible force. Thousands of sensation exploded around me body. Fire burning the skin without giving off a burning flesh smell and I half-expected to see a vampire tearing a strip of skin away until it reached my heart but I was still alone. Some sort of weight pressed down on my chest suddenly until I felt pieces of something grind across my sternum and snap the bone. I cried out loud again in anger and pain. I could only hear my own twisted screams – sounds of an odd animalistic cry that didn't resemble my own.

Black began to creep into my focus. It crawled around the edges causing my view to swim in and out of focus. Pain, burning, tearing. What it real?

Someone was doing this to me; Jane took these sorts of people down every day, I had no idea how this could be happening. Jane.

"Jane!" I screamed but all the air had left my lungs. My throat went dry and began to constrict, somehow distracting me from the thousands of needles dragging up my arms. Was Jane okay? I needed to help her. But nothing happened no matter how hard I tried to move. I growled in anger with tears of frustration of pain leaking from my eyes. But there was no blood. There was no fire on my chest. Maybe I was crazy but all I could think about was each stabbing motion that throbbed in my chest replacing my heartbeat that a normal human had. Each grinding sensation was like a sonar beam of pain that shook my body.

"Jane!" I whispered softly with the only piece of air I had left. I wanted to find her and help her. She had been with me and now she wasn't.

Finally, the pain became unbearable. My body began to go numb until I couldn't feel the stabbing in my fingers and the weight in my chest disappeared. I was ready for the pain – my voice raw from scream but also from losing the will to scream. It was unexplainable. Pain but no pain. Feeling without senses.

And then it all started again.

Kylar Knight

Kylar Knight saw darkness.

He heard the screams, the cries of agony for what seemed like eternity.

Kylar Knight was afraid.

He screamed himself, fighting for his own heart as he escaped his mind.

Kylar Knight saw the light.

Apollo Finn

Nothing made sense to me anymore.

Well, most things didn't. I still understood why the sky was blue and the grass green. I knew why the leaves fell from the trees in the fall and how baking soda and vinegar created a volcano. I also understand what happened when the moon come out.

Zipping up my jacket, I eyed the rest of the crowd around me wearily. It was cold out, enough to give me goosebumps through my jacket. My breath came out in bursts of fog and a shiver ran up my spine. Although whether it was due to the weather or present company I couldn't tell you.

It hadn't even been a full day since we were forced to fight each other. My hands still shook every time I looked at them and I had tried to scrub my mouth clean so many times that it tingled whenever I touched my tongue. The air was faintly sweet with the coppery aroma even after time had passed, but I had learned to ignore it for now. Glancing up from my feet, I took in my surrounding for the fiftieth time in the past minute or so.

All of us, which looked to be about 15 or so, stood outside of an old house. It was rustic looking, the wooden panels of the house well worn. The place was nice though, large and accommodating from what I could tell. Whoever owned it had made sure to pick a good spot for it too, since it was located near the center of this small city. I stood out in the driveway, not wanting to get too close to those that were standing clustered together on the porch. A few others had taken my approach, including a couple that were standing off to the side deep in conversation.

I didn't understand why we were here. Before maybe I would have had the courage to go up and ask someone else, but now? My stomach did a flip just imagining it. How could I trust anyone here? More importantly, how could I trust myself?

A door opened and I tore myself away from my thoughts before I latched onto the depressing ones too tightly. In the doorway stood the man I had begun to associate with the name Kors. He looked sleep deprived, the light streaming out from behind him only helping to highlight the dark circles under his eyes, his disheveled hair and stubble showing how long it had been since he had shaved. There was a gaunt expression in his eyes as well, like he had been working too hard without enough sleep.

"Would you all come inside?" he asked, his voice gruff and somewhat froggy.

For a second I wondered if he had been crying, but the thought was quickly set aside. His expression was numb, whatever he felted bottled upon just like the others. Was I weak not to do the same? Running a hand through my tangled blonde hair, I took in a deep breath. Right now that didn't matter, what mattered was figuring out what was going on.

Finding enough boldness to lift my own feet, I trudged inside with the rest. The doorway was small, my jerk reaction being to freeze up whenever someone else bumped up against me. When I finally got inside where there was space to breath, my eyes caught onto another man who was standing next to Kors. He had striking blue eyes and soft brown hair, a smile parting his lips despite the strange set of circumstances. They spoke in hushed words that I couldn't make out, Kors face turning from desperate to sour when a women walked in and attached herself to the other man's arm. She spoke a simple sentence and the other two nodded.

Stepping forward, Kors folded his arms over his chest. "Listen up," he tried to speak firmly but it was clear he was having a difficult time keeping his voice even. "You're leader is dying, which means this night is going to be difficult for everyone. You will need to stay str-"

A crash sounded to the left of me and I turned. The man's words were cut off, everyone's focus lingering on the unconscious body of an older girl. A dark brown braid laid limp besides her, her limbs splayed sporadically across the floor.

"Bee!" Another man cried out, instantly swooping down to cradle her in his arms. When he turned her over, my blood turned to lead. Her eyes had rolled back in her head leaving nothing but a penetrating soulless white.

Terrified I turned back to see Kors's eyes widening. "I thought we had more time," he murmured, running his hand over his five o'clock shadow.

More time before what? Another thump sounded, my eyes finding two more bodies that hit the floor. My head began to feel fuzzy and I had to grip onto a countertop as my knees grew slack. Blood rushed to my ears as my heart seized up. It felt like a boiconstrictor had found its way into my chest and was attempting to squeeze the life out of me. Collapsing to the floor, my hands slid across the wood, too weak to push myself back up. Letting my eyes close, I tried to gain back my breath. Maybe the pain would stop if I just went to sleep, but something in the back of my brain told me that was a bad idea. Trying to my eyes open was useless, another flash or two of hardwoods floor and another's hand and then it all went dark.

When I opened my eyes again, it was pitch black. There was no indication of where I was. I looked down to see my letterman jacket, my hands, my feet, everything was see through. Raking my unruly curls aside did nothing to help me calm down. This wasn't me dreaming, it didn't feel like it. It was wrong, the middle of my chest hollowed out, like a carved pumpkin. What Kors had said before, about dying... was this death?

Noises bounced off of unseen walls around me and I spun in a circle as I tried to make sense of where I was. Was specific voice stuck out above the din and I faced my right.

"Apollo, get over here!"

I followed it without hesitation, my legs moving faster and faster when I realized the darkness around me wasn't changing. The voice grew louder, shouting the same thing over and over again but I couldn't figure out how to reach it. Out of breath and out of ideas, I sat down on the invisible floor below me. When I blinked, the world shifted around me.

The sunlight was warm against my skin, the August breeze softly hitting my cheek and brushing away my hair. Cold metal laid under my hands, bumpy and rigid against my fingertips as I looked around. In front of me was the high school's rugby field. Posts stood at both ends, but they were the old ones and not the ones we had gotten during junior year. The grass was dry and out on the field Kohl was waving me over.

"Apollo, come on already!"

"I'm coming," I yelled back as I stood up. He didn't seem to hear me though and then I saw him, or me I should say.

I hadn't realized it before, but it was the day of my first game. Watching myself run over to Kohl, I slowly sunk back onto the bleachers. I wasn't really here, it was just a memory. Down below I stood in my new jersey for the first time, my cheeks so flushed from nerves that it sent my friend into a fit of laughter.

"Get too much sun?" he asked jokingly.

The memory of me rolled my eyes, but I smiled. I missed Kohl more than I would admit out loud, it had only been a few days since I had last seen him but it felt like an eternity. As I watched myself pass with the rest of the team, I decided to go back to the root of my problem. Why was I here?

I had felt like I had been dying before and everyone else had collapsed too. Were we all gone? Was this was what death was like? Just sitting around and living in the past? I didn't have much of a past to begin with, and if I wanted to only watch the happy parts then my choices were severely limited.

The sound of the squeaking bleaches caught my attention and i looked up to see a woman staring down at me. She had long hair that fell in waves down her shoulders and deep ebony eyes that pulled me in with a single glance. Everything about her radiated confidence and beauty, like she could walk through a fire without getting burned. Freckles peppered her high cheek bones and naturally highlighted her eyes.

"May I sit?" he voice was like wrapping up honey and silk into one package and I nodded instantaneously.

She sat down next to me, red lips pressed into a smile that made her pale skin glow. "Do you know who I am?"

My mouth formed an answer but I held it for a moment as I studied her. I knew I didn't know her, but something was telling me I did whether it was in my heart or maybe in my blood.

"My name is Caroline," she spoke before I could respond, revealing a sharp pair of fangs that hadn't attracted my attention until now. They didn't scare me like the others did however, instead I felt only warmth towards her.

"I'm Apollo," I felt nervous to speak, like anything I said could cause her to be unhappy, but she only smiled. "Are you...?" I couldn't finish the sentence out of my own insecurity.

She nodded. "I'm dead, yes."

My hands curled around the fabric of my jacket as my heart tightened. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," she answered back, her face filled more with acceptance than anger.

"I wish there was a way I could help." After all the death I had seen it only felt right for me to say it, I didn't want to know of anyone else that had perished, done by me or not.

"That's very sweet," she responded, her hand caressing my cheek. "There is one way you could help however." I perked up, instantly attentive, "You could trade my life for yours."

"M-my life?" I responded weakly, unsure of what she meant.

Caroline dipped her head, "We're all connected by blood, if you wished, you could save me from dying."

My breath caught in my throat. I wanted to help her and I wanted this part of my life to have not existed, but dying? It was a bigger decision than I had prepared fro, my heart and my head caught in a tussle as I stared into her kind hearted eyes. Eventually, my heart gave way to my head and I sighed.

"I don't think I could do that," if there was even the smallest chance that I could return to the life I had had I would fight to take it back. No matter how selfish the idea might have been, I felt I at least needed to say goodbye to Kohl and Andrea again, to explain what had happened. I couldn't do that if I was dead.

The women's hand slipped from my cheek as she stood to leave, "I understand. It is not a decision I can force anyone to make unwillingly." My head found the courage to nod as she turned and slipped away, her form soon disappearing from my memory.

If she had wanted my life then that meant I hadn't died. Closing my eyes, I felt the feel of the sun on my skin disappear as the cold from before replaced it. Blinking deliriously, my eyes were meet with familiar walls, the scent of blood once again finding me.

What had just happened?

August Sterling

She was gone and he was left. Left all alone. He could remember their last exchange, down to every last word.

"Look August. I can't take you any further than this." They were just the intercity borders, the city of mass death. He'd seen Mavis slash and attack, leaving dozens behind. August couldn't believe how many had died. 5 was such as cruel number, whether they were killed by Mavis or not.

"The intercity border is just up that road, and when you reach it, you'll be guided by Gareth to a safe house. Gareth said that you'll be meeting in the Davidson house for a meeting with all of the council."

"This Gareth guy again. What's so important about him? I mean, I know you took orders from this guy, but still..." August drifted off. He didn't know what to say next. All emotions captivated him; anger, sadness, and elation. He was finally getting to do something on his own, but losing Mavis would be the cost. They were together through thick and thin, and they never missed any important challenges with each other. "Mavis, I just-"

"Shut up would 'da. I'm trying not to make this emotional, but clearly that's not working." Mavis handed August a black duffel bag. August inspected it and gave her a strange look.

"You'll need it for your journey. No go. You don't have much time."

"Mavis wh-" Mavis reached her hands up, pulled August's head down and kissed him, slowly, each second more passionate than the last. August's senses were overloaded. His eyes seemed to blackout for half a minute, his hearing gone. When they finally pulled apart, Mavis laughed and said, "Cherry."

"What?"

"Cherry kool-aid. When was the last time you had that."

"When you poisoned me." August smiled and kissed Mavis again. Mavis was the one to pull away.

"Go." August smiled, shouldered his duffel bag, and started walking toward the city center, but turned around to get one last look at Mavis. When he turned, he found nothing left behind him, just an empty city littered with dead bodies.

"Watch where you're going, Sterling." August bumped into one of the vampire's in his group. When August got closer to the middle of the city, he was met by the group of the surviving vampires, lead by Gareth. No one had to tell August that that was where he belonged, as he joined the group as soon as he spotted them. As they kept walking, they picked up more and more vampires. The journey felt like hours to August, but When they finally reached the Davidson house, they were each showed to their rooms by a member of the vampire council, but not before Gareth gave them a message.

"Hello new-bloods. I have brought you all here for a special chance to meet all of the council members. When you are all settled into your rooms, please meet us downstairs. There is only one room, so it should be fairly easy to find.Thank you."

After Gareth was done speaking, all the hustle and bustle returned. Before August could meet anyone he was lead to my room by a guy whose name August forgot. August opened his door, flung his bag on the single bed, and raced downstairs. August was just in time for the meeting. He had just slipped into the door as Gareth said,

"Everyone, I would like you all to meet Caroline, my love." Noise erupted around August, but August didn't talk to anyone himself. Instead, he looked at Caroline.

She sat up in her bed, looking at the young men and woman standing before her. The woman's pale skin wrinkled and was sunken into her bones. Her elbows, knees, and cheekbones jutted out of her body, as sharp as a butter knife. Her thin black hair was stringy, thin, and by the looks of her duvet and floor, she was balding.

"Now everyone, I would like you to know that Caroline is incredibly sick, so please, answer every question that she asks you with yes.

"August. Wait." He heard the shrill voice call out, "I would like to speak with you." August felt the hairs on his neck raise. Something about the tone of her voice was off, and although August didn't want to find out what it was she wanted, he knew as a new bitten vampire, he had to obey.

"Yes, Caroline?" He turned around to face the dying woman, and slowly walked towards her. When he was close enough to her bed, Caroline patted the part of the covers beside her, every move looking like it pain her agonizingly. August gingerly squatted down, still not sure of this dark haired woman.

"Don't worry August, I'm not here to antagonize you. Please, make yourself comfortable." Caroline gestured around the room, so August half-jumped off the bed, briskly walking over to the cushioned chair in the corner of the small room.

When he was finally sat down comfortably sat down, he asked, "So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Caroline tilted her head and smiled at August, " Oh young Sterling. I've been watching you for a while." Caroline must have sensed that the comment made August feel uncomfortable and confused, so she corrected herself, " Oh, I mean you seem to be a lovely young boy. You know I ju-" She was cut off by a coughing fit. Every wheeze sounded more painful than the last, no air penetrating into her lungs. August popped up to make sure Caroline was ok, but Caroline flicked her hand in dismissal.

After she was done with her coughing, Caroline preceded her talking, "As I was saying. I think you are an amazing person, and I have an amazing question that I have to ask you." August sat up a little straighter in his seat.

"What do you mean by amazing question?"

"Well, in order for me to survive, I need to trade my life with someone, and because you're life is so pure, you're the perfect choice."

August's stood up out of his chair. His eyes bulged out of his head, and he almost yelled his response, but then he remembered Mavis. What would she say to a council official? After August thought it over for a bit, he calmly replied, "As much as I would love to keep you alive, I'm sorry. My life just means too much to me. I hope you understand."

"I understand very clearly." Caroline gestured to the door, "Well, you must be starving. Please go eat."

August bowed, as he felt that was the right thing to do at this moment in time, and closed the door behind him as he walked out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sobbing was heard from around the whole (home or palace, whatever is right) bouncing off the walls. Shuffling could be heard around August's door, before he heard a sharp knock at his door. It took August a few seconds before he walked over to the door, as he was never a morning person. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, August opened the door, greeted by the council member that showed him to his room last night.

"Oh." August took a step back, because when he opened the door, he thought the council member would be further back in the doorway. "How can I help you?"

"Please join the others in Caroline's room," The council member looked him up and down, "and maybe you should put on some appropriate clothes." He then walked away and August closed his door, looking down at his pajamas. He wore a ragged Bring Me the Horizon shirt and some high water, plaid pajama pants. Mavis grabbed a few things for him before they left without August knowing, so many of the items were essentials such as a toothbrush, toothpaste, and extra clothes, but others were random, like a glass cup, sheets of paper in a binder and even a tupperware bowl. All of the clothes Mavis brought for him were old and beat up, which is what most of his wardrobe looked like. With all the money August's parents made, you would think that August would have nicer clothes, but that was definitely not the case.

August pulled a red flannel over his pajama shirt and pulled on some jeans and briskly walked over to Caroline's room. He knocked on the door lightly, but it was already ajar, allowing August to step right through. Every eye was turned towards Caroline's bed, Gareth leaning over it. His body quivered, and it sounded like the crying August heard back in his room was coming from Gareth.

August half skipped over to the back of the crowd of vampires in the middle of Caroline's room. "What's happening?" August asked. All of a sudden, Gareth swung around and mumbled something.

"I'm sorry sir. What did you say?" One brave vampire stepped up to ask.

"She's dead, and she's dead because of you." Gareth pointed in August's direction, but the blonde boy shrunk behind the vampires in front of him. Gareth pushed through the people and pulled August up from his red flannel.

"You dumb blonde peice of scum. When she asked you to trade lives with her, you said no. Her life meant everything. Yours meant nothing. " Gareth stomped out of the room, slamming the door so forcefully that the old wood door broke off of it's hinges.

"So, what should we do now." Ask a girl in the front of the crowd. August couldn't see her, but he could tell that she was a young one.

The girl to August's left suddenly fell and screamed out in so much agonizing pain, that August had to cup his hands over his burning ears just to keep his ear drums from popping. The sound got louder and louder as more screams were added and his heart pounded with fear. What was happening to the vampires around him. If this was happening to all of them, would it happen to him? Vampires dropped all around him and August's heart beat faster.

Keeping his hands over his ears, August looked around the room to find anyone to reach out to when suddenly, my pounding heart felt like it burst. White hot pain pulsed through his spine, traveling down all the nerves, unlike any other type of feeling he's ever felt. Black dots swirled around in his eyes, the room becoming fuzzier by the second. He didn't even have enough time to call out his own name, before his vision went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"August? August. Wake up" August's eyes fluttered open. Leaning over him was a dark haired girl, about the age of 27 with silky dark brown hair and hazel eyes. Behind her, a boy stood with a glassy look in his eyes.

August rubbed his head, trying to remember the events that occurred the night before, but he just couldn't seem to find it anywhere in his brain. His heart felt inflamed and it felt like the worst heartburn he's ever had. His ears rung and his vision was slightly cloudy.

"What happened last night?" August questioned the girl, but she looked just as confused as him.

"No one knows. That's what Apollo and I have been trying to figure out." The others rose from their sleep.

Bōluó "Pineapple" Wen

The air is a thousand particles of cold, fusing into typhoons of chill. His fingers bend and twist, crushing icy palms and extending once more, ticking with each minuscule progression of the clock. Footsteps surrounding him align, beat with one frozen heart, frost paralyzing toes, ears, nose. He daydreams of the warmth a fresh dose of blood would spawn within him, dissolving the omniscient cold, continuously plundering his heat resources. Longing aches within him, hunger as dominant as the conspicuous temperature.

He is surrounded, encased in an array of young adults; he dares not utter a word to any, but they are just like him. He remembers a time where nothing truly mattered, of insouciant attitudes and a life created only for entertainment, acting as he chose, playing whichever part he pleased. But he is now doused in responsibility, locked into a life of purpose. He has changed; he does not recall the important of the fruit he had once treasured. He does not understand the thoughts of who he once was.

His thoughts, now focused on the blood of the oblivious. He seeks the fuel that once disgusted him. It scalds his throat, boils his intestines, his mouth cripples under the tang of iron; he loves it. He has loved nothing else in such a way. The life he once led was an illusion, a practice run, training before the race. The race- his present.

He will not speak his name, for it no longer appeals to him. It is nothing but an embarrassment, a reminder of his buoyancy, sanguinity, idiocy. Humanity.

The group mingles, his kind weaving in and out of line as the weak drift to the boundaries, pace decreasing; synchronization depletes with their weariness. Cold saps the energy from each, but his mind still flitters and twits, opaque eyes twitching every direction. He forms a fist, he shakes it out. Nervous tics reign over his actions, instinct a force he'd barely recognized within him in the life before. He has not felt such vulnerability, such craving, such inferiority. Are they an army? He is unsure, knows only he is but a hatchling in this peculiar setting. He cannot grasp a final purpose, yet his senses perceive he is a follower, and his leader- their leader- is methodical, with strategy, possesses a reason for gathering so many of his kind and pivoting them against each other. He walks with enemies and friends simultaneously; his trust is unthinkably disheveled.

They file into the building of fallen beams and cracked paint, thick cobwebs and a dying female.

He is perplexed. Height impacts his sight, and he hears only raspy inhales, grating exhales. The house groans and creaks with old age, shifting with the deteriorating breaths of its inhabitant. He feels nothing for her, can barely identify she is female with the modest view. With every passing minute, her fatigue grows stronger, overwhelming, and he feels his own body begin to succumb to exhaustion. He sways, battles against sinking eyelids; each breath is softer, little more than a hiss of air invading nostrils, windpipe, lungs. They want to cease; he wants to cease, for her pain deflates him. Each timid bite of frigid weather betrays him, sparks an onslaught of desire for sleep. He tries to remain lucid, but it is so arduous, painful; her breaths decelerate.

All ends as she ends.

The chill abandons him, but he feels neither warm nor cold. Floating; he is suspended in clouds, moisture slinking down his cheeks- not his own. He remembers a time where weeping would refresh the mind, regenerate, envigorate. Such recollections plague him; he asks questions he cannot fathom the answers to, ponders how and why he adhered to such customs in the life before. He does not understand who he was.

He does not understand Pineapple.

But does he understand who he is now?

The clouds hug him; he is suspended in a time lapse, a loophole, an escape. His environment wafts peace in every direction, and the urge to float away flickers inside a restless mind, but it is poison. He has come to interpret respite as delicacy, cannot pause the agitation, the endless brain activity. He cannot pause the twitching, cannot silence the questions. Where is he? A haven of numbness, detachment. Time passes in irregular intervals, and he is content to hover in this atmosphere. Hollowness has latched onto him; he cannot locate a heartbeat within his chest, his wrist, his neck. He wonders if he could before, if he has always been this corpse, but he thinks unfeelingly. Emotions do not pervade such a space. If his time has expired, he supposes, the clouds are not so bad a resting location.

A hoarse voice invades fantasy, and he recognizes it from imagination, knows it matches with who he could not see but heard. He listens to answers, to questions, and everything in between; bombarded by life, death, and a fallen superior, asking for a sacrifice. Pleading. She stalls in this intermediate unconsciousness, this pathway to the next; she hesitates. She is incomplete. Perhaps he will discover a return. Please. Do not let her go- take her place.

He does not know himself, but he does not know her, does not know who she is to ask such a favor. He does not know anyone. Yet the choice seems as though it has been made for him, and his reluctance is inconsequential. He is the omega wolf, marooned at the bottom of the pack- of course all are superior- but he is an omega ready to rise. An alpha trapped in a different skin. He is capable. She is the one knocking on death's door, despite her apprehension. He still inhales without a scratch, exhales excluding strain. Has her time not just passed? Has his time not just begun?

He wants to serve again. He wants to drink again.

He wants to freeze again, if that is the alternative.

Yu JiaMing

If life was a beautiful lie and death a painful truth, did that just make James a coward? Someone afraid of the truth?

Yesterday he had convinced himself to live, and he did. But wasn't that just delaying the inevitable? Wasn't that just running away from something that would always find him? If it finds him anyways, why not actively seek it out?

So, to die or not to die, that is the question. Honestly, are these vampires not even trying? They're making him want to die. Don't they need some trong vampire to do something or another for them?

If you want someone to do something, you have to call them to your side. The vampires are just pushing him away into the madness of depression. And it's about to get worse. James recalls the announcement that they had made, telling him he was going to experience death? Hey, it's a once in a lifetime chance.

But what are they trying to accomplish? This whole thing is an elaborate joke for him, taking a suicidal male and turning him into a monster, and then giving him the thing that he wished for the most, except not really. He was just waiting to wake up in his bed and then going to see his sister's face. Except... it's not a dream. The pain was too real. It was a nightmare of reality.

Suddenly, there's wailing and screaming and peace all at once, this must be death, right? Memories flash before his eyes, and he's back at home with Jasmine. Shakily, he pulls out the dagger he had originally planned to kill himself with and brings it up to his neck again. Unhesitantly, he slits his throat.

The clock strikes twelve and the spell is broken - gold returns to the ashes, silver crumbles into dust. 

Liberato Di lorio

NO ENTRY