09-01-2009, 08:06 PM
-smex banner coming soon-
A collab between me and Fenrir.
Yay. It has vampires and werewolves.
But no HumanxVampire. Who would want that weird stuff? :/
Oh, yeah, and our vampires and werewolves are different. Have differences. Interested?
Get reading. >3
A collab between me and Fenrir.
Yay. It has vampires and werewolves.
But no HumanxVampire. Who would want that weird stuff? :/
Oh, yeah, and our vampires and werewolves are different. Have differences. Interested?
Get reading. >3
Chapters (Click to View)
Prologue - Addiction (Click to View)
Fair brown hair. Pretty normal, works. Pale blue eyes? Well, it’s a little different, but it’s still possible. Uncontrollable craving for blood? There’s where we cross the line.
They say vampire as if it’s a fairytale. They say it as though they expect to dream of the fact that a vampire attacks them in their bedroom. They say it like they think we don’t exist. Of course, they say it whilst we’ve got fangs in their bloody necks and are draining all the blood we can get to fasten down our addiction. To stop the crave. To kill the need.
Many people think that we feed for fun; to live; to enjoy. Well, they’re partly right, but that’s only the start of the story – we feed because we have to. If a vampire became a drug addict, god knows what would stop him from going insane. Blood is a drug. Blood is our drug.
Well, their drug.
My name is Suzie Robin. Ordinary name for such an unordinary girl. My mother was a human, my father was a vampire. Genetically, vampires surpass humans in almost every scale, so it was no surprise I took his lifestyle over hers. I wasn’t made to be a chef. I was made to be a killer; cold and bold. My father learned that the hard way, and now he’s six feet underground in a brown box. I didn’t cry at the funeral.
My mother wasn’t fit to raise me, so I left three days after I turned fourteen. She didn’t complain. She didn't really have the will to do anything since dad died. Not surprising; he had so many charms on her it was amazing she could even remember her real name. In fact, thinking about it, I’m not sure if Evelyn was her real name. Either way, she died two years later. That funeral I didn’t even show up at.
So, where am I now? Fitting in as best as I can. I somewhat admired my mother – you could say that, I suppose. Even now I wonder if that’s the best way to describe it. Either way, at her peak, my mother was surprisingly good with people. I suppose that’s where I get my cold use of sarcasm and sense of control. I wouldn’t say I’m a born leader. I would say that I’m born to lead. I'm Head Girl in my final year at whatever school I go to. Half the name had been rubbed off the sign, and nobody really mentions it nor is it anywhere else at the school. Regardless, every day is the same, to be perfectly honest. We vampires have an ability, so to say, nicknamed Beauty. I’m not sure where the name really came from, but I think it was some random war with male vampire hunters against female vampires and they eventually realised they couldn’t kill because they were attracted to them or some s***.
Either way, most vampires use it sub-consciously – it just happens. I walk around town getting stares and double takes at every corner. Some guys want to come up to me – I can see it in their eyes – but know I’ll shoot them down. I may look nice to them boys, but trust me; they know I’m probably a cold-hearted b****. I suppose you could say that. Either way, I only have two friends at school. I only talk to said friends. If a teacher asks me to pass something to someone who is not in said two, or even talk to someone who isn't in said duo, I won’t do it. Why? Because even if one of them is insanely annoying and the other is pretty rough and street-heavy, they’re the only guys I trust.
Mark is the annoying one. I would say he’s a pretty nice guy at heart, but then I’d have to say I was lying, so why bother? He has brown hair that I presume naturally fluffs itself because of Beauty – needless to say that doesn’t work on me, and an additional needless to say moment, he's a vampire like myself. I suppose he could be a nice guy, but at the moment I really don’t have anything with him, nor do I plan to. I probably wouldn’t fiddle with him. On a quick note here, I’m not the type of person to say, “in a million years.” Why? Because I’ll probably live that long.
My other friend is called Marcus. It’s weird, saying “Mark” or “Marc” and having two responses of “Yeah?” I nickname him Wolfy when Mark is around, and yeah, you guessed it – Marcus is a werewolf. Of course, werewolves aren’t as generic as they normally make them either. In fact, most of them can change at will any time; of course, it is true they have the burden of having to change at full moon. It’s just not as easy for a full-grown humanoid wolf ranging at about six feet tall to move around in public. Either way, Marcus is a childhood friend – I met him at thirteen, and we left together when I left my mother. We’ve never had anything either, and honestly, I’d prefer to stay on the friendship rather than the love-boat. It might sound sappy and soft, but I think we’re too close to just be broken apart by some stupid break-up.
Anyway, back to that earlier question I never really answered: where am I now? I’m at school, fitting in with my two trusted friends. I’m sixteen in four days. I’m somewhat ‘human’ for the moment, exclude the fact I can’t open my mouth or smile at anyone, which is kind of sad, since I like the general fang-showing-cold-glare-smile effect I can give to people. But you know, there’s always a problem with these things. And my problem is bad.
The addiction for blood I’ve put off for so long?
Yeah, it’s back.
They say vampire as if it’s a fairytale. They say it as though they expect to dream of the fact that a vampire attacks them in their bedroom. They say it like they think we don’t exist. Of course, they say it whilst we’ve got fangs in their bloody necks and are draining all the blood we can get to fasten down our addiction. To stop the crave. To kill the need.
Many people think that we feed for fun; to live; to enjoy. Well, they’re partly right, but that’s only the start of the story – we feed because we have to. If a vampire became a drug addict, god knows what would stop him from going insane. Blood is a drug. Blood is our drug.
Well, their drug.
My name is Suzie Robin. Ordinary name for such an unordinary girl. My mother was a human, my father was a vampire. Genetically, vampires surpass humans in almost every scale, so it was no surprise I took his lifestyle over hers. I wasn’t made to be a chef. I was made to be a killer; cold and bold. My father learned that the hard way, and now he’s six feet underground in a brown box. I didn’t cry at the funeral.
My mother wasn’t fit to raise me, so I left three days after I turned fourteen. She didn’t complain. She didn't really have the will to do anything since dad died. Not surprising; he had so many charms on her it was amazing she could even remember her real name. In fact, thinking about it, I’m not sure if Evelyn was her real name. Either way, she died two years later. That funeral I didn’t even show up at.
So, where am I now? Fitting in as best as I can. I somewhat admired my mother – you could say that, I suppose. Even now I wonder if that’s the best way to describe it. Either way, at her peak, my mother was surprisingly good with people. I suppose that’s where I get my cold use of sarcasm and sense of control. I wouldn’t say I’m a born leader. I would say that I’m born to lead. I'm Head Girl in my final year at whatever school I go to. Half the name had been rubbed off the sign, and nobody really mentions it nor is it anywhere else at the school. Regardless, every day is the same, to be perfectly honest. We vampires have an ability, so to say, nicknamed Beauty. I’m not sure where the name really came from, but I think it was some random war with male vampire hunters against female vampires and they eventually realised they couldn’t kill because they were attracted to them or some s***.
Either way, most vampires use it sub-consciously – it just happens. I walk around town getting stares and double takes at every corner. Some guys want to come up to me – I can see it in their eyes – but know I’ll shoot them down. I may look nice to them boys, but trust me; they know I’m probably a cold-hearted b****. I suppose you could say that. Either way, I only have two friends at school. I only talk to said friends. If a teacher asks me to pass something to someone who is not in said two, or even talk to someone who isn't in said duo, I won’t do it. Why? Because even if one of them is insanely annoying and the other is pretty rough and street-heavy, they’re the only guys I trust.
Mark is the annoying one. I would say he’s a pretty nice guy at heart, but then I’d have to say I was lying, so why bother? He has brown hair that I presume naturally fluffs itself because of Beauty – needless to say that doesn’t work on me, and an additional needless to say moment, he's a vampire like myself. I suppose he could be a nice guy, but at the moment I really don’t have anything with him, nor do I plan to. I probably wouldn’t fiddle with him. On a quick note here, I’m not the type of person to say, “in a million years.” Why? Because I’ll probably live that long.
My other friend is called Marcus. It’s weird, saying “Mark” or “Marc” and having two responses of “Yeah?” I nickname him Wolfy when Mark is around, and yeah, you guessed it – Marcus is a werewolf. Of course, werewolves aren’t as generic as they normally make them either. In fact, most of them can change at will any time; of course, it is true they have the burden of having to change at full moon. It’s just not as easy for a full-grown humanoid wolf ranging at about six feet tall to move around in public. Either way, Marcus is a childhood friend – I met him at thirteen, and we left together when I left my mother. We’ve never had anything either, and honestly, I’d prefer to stay on the friendship rather than the love-boat. It might sound sappy and soft, but I think we’re too close to just be broken apart by some stupid break-up.
Anyway, back to that earlier question I never really answered: where am I now? I’m at school, fitting in with my two trusted friends. I’m sixteen in four days. I’m somewhat ‘human’ for the moment, exclude the fact I can’t open my mouth or smile at anyone, which is kind of sad, since I like the general fang-showing-cold-glare-smile effect I can give to people. But you know, there’s always a problem with these things. And my problem is bad.
The addiction for blood I’ve put off for so long?
Yeah, it’s back.
Prologue - ADD (Click to View)
Messy black hair. Pretty muscular, those blood red eyes that make you go: “Oh s***.” Sounds like one of those cliché anti-heroes right? Wrong. Does your anti-hero have the uncontrollable urge to kick ass on a full moon? No? I didn’t think so.
Those human a******s think that werewolves don’t exist. You know, the whole: “That was a bear!” Yeah, right. Cuz ya’know, bears can walk on two legs and howl. Just remember that our howls aren’t a way of scaring the s*** outta ya, even though they do, don’t mind me saying. They usually mean: “We’re hungry.” Which we are quite a lot, heh. Of course, you know humans. Them and their science. If something doesn’t make sense, or isn’t ‘logical’ they get all up in your face. They change their minds after you slice a claw through their throat of course.
So yea, my name’s Marcus Volf. Hey, you better not be laughing at my last name! It’s just…coincidental. Anyways, my dad was a werewolf; my mom was a regular human. I was often called Mutt by my dad, which I didn’t like one bit. I can’t say they’re alive, as I honestly don’t care. If they are, I’ll probably be the one to draw the blade along my dad’s neck anyway.
So, that’s where I left my parents along with my best friend Suz’. Being naturally strong, I took on some underground street fighting. That got us some money fast – I’m actually a lot stronger than I look, not surprisingly - which we used to pay for our apartment rent. Although personally, I hate that shithole. I have to threaten the neighbors to shut the f*** up. Honestly, all those bloody arguments they get into really gets a guy pissed off. And a girl. And another guy.
Which leaves us off on my old crew. “Fang’n’Claw”. You realise when you get a little older how crap the things you join are. Anyhow, FnC are probably the most overrated werewolf gang in the world. They think they’re all that. That they rule the city. Honestly, they’re just pissheads that pissed me off. I double-crossed them and tricked a vampire gang to fight them. It’s obvious which side came out top, because FnC aren’t overrated because of their fighting, that’s for sure. Man, idiots sure are gullible. Of course, now they probably want to hang my ass up on a wall – I’ve had a few reports from a few guys.
…which brings me to another point. I’ll say this now. I’m the strongest werewolf around. I’ve literally never lost a fight. I will rip apart a street – also literally – to make someone shut up. If someone sends me a challenge, I accept. And let’s just say they’d wish they’d never sent that challenge after.
Now, Mark – that’s one guy I can’t stand. Not only does he stalk Suzie around like he’s all that, he literally takes every opportunity to make me sound like a douchebag. I may not be the sharpest pencil in the box, but ya’know? The thing is, he knows that I’d rip that head off in an instant. Suz’ just keeps giving me the ‘You’re better than him’ s***. I suppose she’s right, there’s no use getting all violent over nothing. Somehow, I actually trust Mark – he’s the sorta guy that if you tell him to do something, or he gives you a promise, he’ll keep it. Even if he is a douchebag.
Now, Suzie. She’s my best friend, and most trusted ally. Not only does she have my back, but she literally helps me in any situation. But I guess that’s because we’re both trying to fit in. Lately, Suz’ has gotten problems with her blood addiction. I’ve been helping her the best I’ve can, collecting blood from my brawls, and grabbing a few scratches trying to do so. It’s not easy to make someone bleed with your bare fists, you know – if I was a wolf it would be so much easier, but I really don’t want to mess with anything that could get us found. I never tell her where I get the blood from though; don’t really wanna creep her out and get her all worried about me. It’s a painful, process, but she’s my best friend: what am I suppose to do? Not to mention, she gets a bit touchy when she drinks blood…lately, I’ve been feeling a lot closer to her…I suppose it’s just puberty. Yet at full moons, we’re always arguing. Is there more wolf inside of me than I think?
Those human a******s think that werewolves don’t exist. You know, the whole: “That was a bear!” Yeah, right. Cuz ya’know, bears can walk on two legs and howl. Just remember that our howls aren’t a way of scaring the s*** outta ya, even though they do, don’t mind me saying. They usually mean: “We’re hungry.” Which we are quite a lot, heh. Of course, you know humans. Them and their science. If something doesn’t make sense, or isn’t ‘logical’ they get all up in your face. They change their minds after you slice a claw through their throat of course.
So yea, my name’s Marcus Volf. Hey, you better not be laughing at my last name! It’s just…coincidental. Anyways, my dad was a werewolf; my mom was a regular human. I was often called Mutt by my dad, which I didn’t like one bit. I can’t say they’re alive, as I honestly don’t care. If they are, I’ll probably be the one to draw the blade along my dad’s neck anyway.
So, that’s where I left my parents along with my best friend Suz’. Being naturally strong, I took on some underground street fighting. That got us some money fast – I’m actually a lot stronger than I look, not surprisingly - which we used to pay for our apartment rent. Although personally, I hate that shithole. I have to threaten the neighbors to shut the f*** up. Honestly, all those bloody arguments they get into really gets a guy pissed off. And a girl. And another guy.
Which leaves us off on my old crew. “Fang’n’Claw”. You realise when you get a little older how crap the things you join are. Anyhow, FnC are probably the most overrated werewolf gang in the world. They think they’re all that. That they rule the city. Honestly, they’re just pissheads that pissed me off. I double-crossed them and tricked a vampire gang to fight them. It’s obvious which side came out top, because FnC aren’t overrated because of their fighting, that’s for sure. Man, idiots sure are gullible. Of course, now they probably want to hang my ass up on a wall – I’ve had a few reports from a few guys.
…which brings me to another point. I’ll say this now. I’m the strongest werewolf around. I’ve literally never lost a fight. I will rip apart a street – also literally – to make someone shut up. If someone sends me a challenge, I accept. And let’s just say they’d wish they’d never sent that challenge after.
Now, Mark – that’s one guy I can’t stand. Not only does he stalk Suzie around like he’s all that, he literally takes every opportunity to make me sound like a douchebag. I may not be the sharpest pencil in the box, but ya’know? The thing is, he knows that I’d rip that head off in an instant. Suz’ just keeps giving me the ‘You’re better than him’ s***. I suppose she’s right, there’s no use getting all violent over nothing. Somehow, I actually trust Mark – he’s the sorta guy that if you tell him to do something, or he gives you a promise, he’ll keep it. Even if he is a douchebag.
Now, Suzie. She’s my best friend, and most trusted ally. Not only does she have my back, but she literally helps me in any situation. But I guess that’s because we’re both trying to fit in. Lately, Suz’ has gotten problems with her blood addiction. I’ve been helping her the best I’ve can, collecting blood from my brawls, and grabbing a few scratches trying to do so. It’s not easy to make someone bleed with your bare fists, you know – if I was a wolf it would be so much easier, but I really don’t want to mess with anything that could get us found. I never tell her where I get the blood from though; don’t really wanna creep her out and get her all worried about me. It’s a painful, process, but she’s my best friend: what am I suppose to do? Not to mention, she gets a bit touchy when she drinks blood…lately, I’ve been feeling a lot closer to her…I suppose it’s just puberty. Yet at full moons, we’re always arguing. Is there more wolf inside of me than I think?
.