The Ultimate Prank
One night, just about 2 months after her 18th birthday, Jorun, decided to take a trip deep into the forest surrounding the back of her town. The family needed some roots, and plants that were found there. She liked to go on these trips alone. Using the solitude of the woods, as a time to reflect, and think. She often spent several days out alone, working in the solitude on her magic, or writing in her Book of Shadows. Gathering the needed roots and plants, on her last day there.
This was a time of relaxation for her. She always went alone, always having felt safe in the dark forest. It was almost seemed to be a second home to her. She only took what was necessary for her to have; her Anthem (ritual dagger), her Book of Shadows, a basket; with various little items and plenty of room for the needed items, that she took back, and a blanket.
This time was different. When she reached on of her favored areas, it didn't feel right. Thinking that it was just because, it had been so long since she had had a trip like this, she ignored her strong instincts, to flee. She wanted this time to herself, she wanted to relax. This proved to be a huge mistake, and downfall.
She arrived in her favorite spot, just before dusk. Feeling uneasy, she busied herself, preparing for the quickly approaching nightfall. She ignored the voice in the back of her head, telling her to turn around, to leave, and not to come back alone. She shouldn't have.
Watching, cloaked in the shadows, was a tall, dark haired woman, with black eyes, buring with hatred. She watched the young woman, as she had for quite awhile now. Perhaps this is the person she could use to extract her revenge. It wouldn't matter if she died, she just wanted her revenge. She had been waiting long enough. Rage, burned inside her. Long slender hands, clenched into fists, as the her sharp nails dug into the palm, drops of crimson, lightly hitting the ground, near her feet.
Jorun, decided not to sleep that night, but to sit up and wait for the sunrise. Hoping that the light of day, would draw away what was out there. Wrapping herself in her blanket, Bjorn sat down with her back to the tree. She watches as the darkness closed in quickly. She silently wishes she had been able to start a small fire, before dark.
Also hidden in the shadows were three Nosferatu. They were waiting for the signal to strike. Not much is known about these three. Just that they worked for the highest bidder, and they were paid handsomely for the deeds they were about to do.
The signal was given. Lady Nabakov, lit a cigarette, it was the Nosferatu's, signal to strike. Their masks were not up, as they moved in with inhuman speed. To Jorun, it looked like three demons. Their milky white eyes glowed in the darkness. She did her best to scramble away from them, but they captured her with ease.
One grabbed her by her throat, the other two going for her arms and legs. One could have held her, but for effect, the three held her tightly. They were snarling and hissing. She did her best to twist free of them, but their inhuman strength, made it impossible.
She was screaming, tears running down her face. The hand around her throat, made it hard to breath, his sharp nails digging deeply into her skin. The crimson blood dripped out, hitting the ground. The harder she tried to get loose, the harder they held her. Their strong grips bruising, cutting off her circulation.
A heavily accented, musical voice, came from the shadows, "Enough!". She steps out, her obfuscate gone. Her full, heavy, woolen black cape flowed around her. Her raven hair was done up in a tight, high bun. Her skin was pure white, no hint of warmth. Her eyes, were a deep, icy, fathomless blue, and her lips, ruby.
Jorun quieted somewhat. Seeing the woman, she stopped struggling. In a horse voice, she asked the woman for help, tears still streaming down her face.
The woman told her she would help her, in a way she never dreamed of before. She was going to give her something special, a life eternal, a life of eternal night. Jorun shook her head. She did not want this. She wanted to be left alone.
Mocking laughter was what followed. With a gesture of her hand, the two of the three Nosferatu stepped back. The one holding Jorun's arms, pinned them behind her. His grip, almost crushing the bones. The woman stepped forard, her long skirts, rustling softly. She ran a finger down the side of the terrified, young woman's face.
Jorun, kicked at her captor, and the woman. Kier stepped back, and Jorun found her self pinned again, one holding her feet, the other grabbing her by her hair, and pulling her head, roughly aside.
Jorun's eyes opened wide. It was like something parent's told their children, to scare them into being good. The strange womans eyes were red, glowing of sorts, very inhuman, very cold. Her pearl like fangs, gleamed in the pale moonlight that barely filtered through the thick treetops. From that point on, time seemed to move slowly, an hour for every second that ticked by.
Jorun began to struggle harder against her captors, but to no advail. They were bigger, far stronger, and far faster than she could ever be. She screamed as the woman approached closer, taking small graceful steps, taking her time. One of the men clamped his hand around her mouth, jerking her head further aside, their mocking laughter all around her.
The second Jorun closed her eyes, was the second Kier, seemed to lunge forward, planting her fangs deep into the slender pale neck before her.
Tears coursed down Jorun's cheeks, as she ceased to struggle. She hung limply in the grip of the two men, as she felt her life slipping away. A word flashed through her mind... Vampyre. Demons, cold heartless angels of death, she had heard stories, but as most, thought they were just stories. Horrible ones, frighting tales of death and destruction. Tales created to horrify children and adults.
Growing weaker, throat burning and dry, her mind flashes to her life, to her family, to all that she had done, and felt that she had to accomplish. She thought of her sister, frail and weak, wondered how her mom would cope with everything, when she was not there anymore.
Breathing became shallow, lungs burning, as she struggled for a breath, her body becoming heavy and limp. As her body convulsed, and and started to take, its last breath, the ones holding her, let go, smirking as she reached the penacle of death.
There was nothing, then a thick liquid burning her throat, she swallowed instinctivly. She was disoriented and dazed, not knowing or understanding if she was dead or not. As the realization set in that she was drinking from an arm, the thick liquid was blood. She struggled back, as laughter formed around her. They were loving the show. The wrist was pulled back, and she looked up into the woman's eyes.
The woman met her gaze, unknowing to Jorun, began setting up her mind, fixing it so her mind wouldn't break. It wasn't the right time, this young girl had a purpose. When she was finished, she put the girl to sleep. Nodding silently to the men standing there, they wrapped her up in a heavy blanket, and began their trek out of the woods
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