-
The Year of the Vampiric Werewolf
By Lauren Whiting
Chapter One: Roxanne of the Rose Clan
The wandering girl closed her eyes, feeling dizzy. A wracking cough tore from deep in her chest and left her wheezing. The helpless female staggered through the snowy forest, each tree a goal to reach and pass. Snow should not be this harsh in April. The traveler thought for the thousandth time. She shivered as another cruel gust of wind came at her, beating her trembling form with ice particles. Continuing seemed like such an impossibility to this red-headed beauty. However, she somehow found the strength to reach the next tree.
Meet Roxanne of the Rose. Roxanne was five foot two, her red hair half as long. Freckles and blue eyes graced her pale face. She was currently hunched against the prevailing cold and wind, wrapped in a tattered brick-red cloak. Roxanne collapsed at the base of the next tree, not bothering to clear the snow first. The girl curled into a ball, clutching her emerald dress and burgundy cloak around her for as much warmth as she could get. Her mind started to conjure images of wolves, and she relented to the visions. Sharp teeth. Claws, long fangs. Warm fur. Slowly, Roxanne began to dissolve into a four-legged fiend. The unknown watcher blinked its beady eyes at this new sight. A large brindle wolf lay comically wrapped up in the dress and cloak. The wolf was an ash grey, with white tipped paws and tail.
The watching blue jay, startled, ruffled his wings and feathers in preparation to fly. He was scared at the sight of this new predator. The wolf slept for hours, occasionally twitching during dreams. The snow continued to fall, covering her sleeping form with a layer of soft, cold snow. A bird singing his evening song at twilight startled Roxanne awake. She shivered, all too aware of her of her blanket of frozen water crystals. Slowly, she raised her head, staring at the full moon. A tear slowly formed in her right eye, reflecting the moon-lit wilderness scene around the wolf. The tear mirrored everything in miniature for a priceless moment before falling and creating a crater in the new snow.
The wolf’s form dissolved into nothing, shedding the worn cloak before reforming an instant later. A tall, shapely woman stood in the spot where the wolf had been a moment earlier. She was as naked as the trees around her, but the falling snow did nothing to affect her. Pale skin was sharply contrasted by long, elegant, black wings stretching from her ankles to a foot above her head. Cold, ice-blue eyes surveyed the small clearing with a regal aloofness. Ivory fangs slightly curved over a full, red bottom lip. Inch-long fingernails that had the strength of steel were carved with strange runes and filed to a lethal point. Her wings fluttered softly with the breath of night as she seemed to reach a conclusion. The vampire reached pale arms up to the sky as her wings beat the air into submission and lifted the slender body into the air. She smiled maliciously, sharp teeth showing to the night sky. The stars fled behind dark clouds as she readied herself for an endless night of murder. After all, vampires need to eat.
Roxanne’s thoughts whirled around as her body isolated the human mind and predatory and vampiric reflexes took over her hapless muscles. She flew through the cold night air with the grace of a seal in the Atlantic. Her black wings beat the air like a vengeful bat would after a night’s poor hunting. A sparkling of lights up ahead confirmed her suspicion of a city. She headed towards the dimmest division, dead certain that that was the slums. The vampire landed carefully and stalked the alleys. No one gave any notice to her; they stared right through her. It is a known fact that humans won’t see what they don’t want to see, or what their brains simply can’t register as real. Roxanne melted into the alley shadows with a satisfied smirk.
In her mind, the thoughts and memories whirled like a tornado through a messy office building. That night. She always thought about it when she was trapped in this infernal vampire stage. Her long-lost pack. The night. Isolation. The memories overcame her like a tsunami over Japan. Around and around went her mind, trapped in the middle of her horrid reminiscences. On the edges of the recollections lay the good memories. Roxanne made a frantic grab for them but they always remained distant, out of her desperate grasp. Her life began to order itself chronologically, starting with her earliest memory. She tried to shut her eyes to no avail; it was her mind that was ‘seeing’ this. A keening, like a wounded animal, snaked out of the throat of the hunting vampire.
Roxanne was born in the small town of Dorchester, a village populated by only werewolves. Born in a litter of five, she was the only girl and the smallest. This didn’t stop her from growing into a powerful cub, vicious and self-reliant. She grew up roughhousing with her four slightly older brothers, Makin, Adam, Dylan, and Charles. Fighting the much-stronger males gave her a lean and powerful body and the ability to use an opponent’s power against them. Her parents were influential people in the clan and spent much time controlling all of the boring things that made a community run. However, they were in no way distant; they spent much time teaching Roxanne the responsibilities and talents she would need later in life. Under their careful guidance, she learned how to be a tracker, hunter, and how to get the most out of her natural speed.
The young werewolf had many aunts and uncles in her clan as well. Her cousins were numerous and Roxanne usually found it easier to consider the whole community as family. The claustrophobic situation of her close-knit family soon made the wolf-girl turn to solitude. Roxanne slipped away constantly to her favorite place by the pond and found multiple excuses for hunting alone. Only her best friend and cousin, Susanne, knew the reasons why Roxanne sought time alone. Marianne, Roxanne’s mother and Susanne’s aunt, disapproved of this and was constantly issuing chores in a fruitless effort to keep Roxanne close to home. As a result, Roxanne evaded her efforts by slipping out at midnight. She had never before seen the beautiful lake at night, and stood entranced by the view. This is the place where everything seems to start. This place, moon- and star-lit, is the acorn that sprouts into the mighty oak of this tale.
Chapter two: Lies, Deceit, and Loneliness
Susanne slid through the silent trees like a snake, soft and swiftly through the soundless starlight. She had spent a restless few hours trying to sleep and gave up when she saw her friend slip out into the forest. Susanne decided to follow Roxanne and possibly pay a prank on her. The wolf woman flitted from shadow to shadow, trailing the silver-backed form in the trees ahead. When they reached the lake, Susanne was just as delighted as Roxanne. The moon was full and the green flora surrounding the lake was silvery with the moonlight’s kiss. Fireflies darted to and fro above the water of the lake and crickets chirped their glee to be alive on such a fine summer night.
Susanne watched with a secret fascination born of the thrill of spying as Roxanne disrobed and walked to the water. No sound and no ripple showed Roxanne’s graceful dive into the water, making Susanne wonder if Roxanne had really been there at all. The girl in the water surfaced and shook her head, her wet curls plastered to her pale face. Susanne began to get bored, wondering if this was all Roxanne was doing. She made to turn back when there was a sound of flapping wings. She gasped in horror as a huge shape crossed the moon. Roxanne, eyes wide, quickly exited the lake water. Her wet form was a few steps from her clothing when the bat-shape landed.
The shape turned out to be a vampire. His eyes glowed green, like a cat; his skin was paler than the very moon. A seductive smile enhanced by gleaming white fangs rested on his sharp face as he eyed Roxanne. At this point, Susanne was petrified with terror. The male vampire was six feet and two inches, his wings six inches less than that. He regally stepped towards the naked, trembling girl in a dusty black suit with red accents.
“Ah, such a beauty.” He murmured, smiling. The vampire reached out an aristocratic hand and traced the line of her jaw with his forefinger. “I knew I chose right.”
Roxanne made a small noise in her throat out of sheer terror. The male dramatically leaned his head to the junction where neck meets shoulder and bit Roxanne there. The girl screamed, not able to fight or get away. The werewolf blood and the vampire venom began to fight in the poor girl’s blood vessels, burning her from the inside. She collapsed to the ground, screaming and howling. Her inner struggle lasted for eight minutes; when she got up, drained, the vampire was gone. Roxanne leaned against the tree, a wave of tenebrous despair washing over the shores of her heart.
Meanwhile, Susanne was running back to the village, almost incoherent with fear. She sought the only werewolf who could offer insight to this predicament without instantly going after- and lynching- her friend. She sought Makin, her long-time love and the older brother of Roxanne.
“Please, Makin, wake up…” She hissed in an urgent whisper.
Makin stirred, complying as he saw her terrified features and heard her insistent tone. He followed Susanne outside, yawning widely.
“What is it?” He asked, concerned.
“You’ll never believe what I just saw… Roxanne just got hurt by a monster!” Susanne stifled her scream with difficulty; nothing would be gained by waking up the whole clan. “A colossal and dreadful flying fiend attacked Roxie and stole her soul! Even now she’s lying wounded. We must go to her!”
Makin listened open-mouthed at this. His little sister- hurt? He raced off in the direction Susanne pointed. She, of course, followed after him. His heart beat a terrifyingly rapid tempo as he contemplated what could have happened to his litter-mate. His mind had built up the image that something no less than a massacre had taken place when he and the other she-wolf burst in on the scene.
- by Caffeinated Gir-chan |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 10/06/2008 |
- Skip
![](https://graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/arena-images/ic_paper_corner_32x32.gif)
- Title: Year of the Vampiric Werewolf
- Artist: Caffeinated Gir-chan
-
Description:
This is a story I've been working on forever. I know it's long, but it's not even done yet! Please, PLEASE do not steal. I've poured too much of my soul in this.
CONSTRUCTIVE critisim welcome. - Date: 10/06/2008
- Tags: year vampiric werewolf
- Report Post
Comments (3 Comments)
- fruit4you - 09/30/2014
-
Definitely could use some good revising. Have people who aren't always going to be "Wow, great!" To read your stories. You need someone to tell you what you can and must fix to make your story better. The idea is there and your sentences are almost there. You have great descriptions. Just look over it a few times. smile Good job
- Report As Spam
- Caffeinated Gir-chan - 10/07/2008
- Oh, no. There shall be more.
- Report As Spam
- Fangthorn - 10/06/2008
- oh wow. Good job! R u perhaps going to write more or is this it?
- Report As Spam