Valley of the Woods

Hey guys its Rush.

So I had some issues with my last submission, and I promise to do my best to fix them! (I would like to state that this is a supernatural story and also may contain violent material that some people may find disturbing.)

I worked hard on this, so I hope you all enjoy it.

***

Vampire:

His scarlet face called to me. I could hear his blood singing to me as it pulsed audibly in his veins. The burning in my throat worsened as I took notice of his blood dripping from my chest; a temptation worse than any other. Feeling light headed I stared. His black Nirvana shirt stuck to his bloody chest, and his long dark hair brushed his mid back when he swept it all over his shoulder to twist nervously. I raked my eyes up to his delicate face and saw he was panting under the force of my scrutiny. I sucked in a shocked breath and scolded myself. I was bad for him. I would inevitably hurt him. In the end, it would be better if I never existed. After all, once a monster, always a monster. And I was most certainly that.

"Nana," I whispered in a heated voice,"I'm leaving. I never existed. You have to forget me." My voice cracked on those last two damning words.

"No," he breathed, "I couldn't possibly forget you. I *need* you. Please, " he started sobbing, "don't leave me. Don't make me be alone again. Don't go like the rest of them, " he slipped to the floor and scraped his nails along the wood while he broke down, " don't you dare fucking leave me...don't..leave..no! You can't" his head lifted shakily, tears rolled down his face and his eyes fluttered like brilliant blue butterfly wings. I stood unflinching and slowly backed away from my own happiness. He didn't need me, he needed someone human. Someone who could love and hold him. Someone normal. I turned and fled into the night. His screams echoed heart wrenchingly. Violent sounds of heartbreak chased me deep into the woods of my solitude.

***

Nanao:

There was nothing.

Nothing but dark stone walls of misery.

I had a hollowness, a deep gut wrenching sense of loss. I was all but comatose, the pain dragged me to the surface of the numbness that threatened to take me and never release me. I begged for the numbness. That lack if feeling I craved, second only to the burning desire for him to come back.

Flames licked my heart menacingly. A constant reminder that I was alone. Oh so alone...

My back arched and I screamed. The sheets wrapped around my white knuckles, and I twisted my fists and feet into the mattress as I writhed.

"...alone." I sobbed, "So alone. Why I am I so alone?!"

Springs squeaked under my weight as I shifted, curling in on myself into the fetal position. My fingers twisted into my black hair and tugged hard. That pain was dulled, I couldn't feel it above the raising cacophony of my misery clashing with my broken heart.

Everyone left, it was inexorable that I would be left alone. But god, every time it was a deeper misery. There was no coming back from this one, there was no way. I dreamed about him for months, crying out and wishing I could see him. Whenever I was sad, or lonely he was always there, invisible to me. But I could always feel his warmth, could curl into his broad chest and shudder.

I choked on my sob as I remembered that he had even seen me at my weakest point; stripped bare and bloody. He had held me as I convulsed and spewed blood over the two of us. I couldn't get over him, but I could do my best to try.

Over the next few weeks I grew accustomed to being without him. I got up, went to work, and came home. That was my life now.

I moved away from that valley in the woods. It was far too painful.

I now lived in a cheap apartment complex in the city. I'm still as skinny as ever, however I have thankfully gained a few pounds. I cut my hair, so it hung in soft waves just past my shoulders. My eyes were the most notable change. They were dull, dim. They had a constant haunted quality about them, and after a few days in the city I started wearing brown contacts.

I wanted nothing to do with that time I had lived in the woods. So I did my best to forget.

I changed almost everything about how I looked, and even acted. I was quiet, and soft spoken. I never talked until someone talked to me first, and I did my best to blend in with people. No one paid attention to me and I was good at acting invisible. I could hide myself.

It was the hardest at night. When I was alone with my thoughts and nothing to distract from the mind numbing pain. I would cry out for him, beg to be held. And every so often, a little trickle of blood would run past my lips as a gruesome reminder.

Soon, months had past, yet I still longed for him. The nameless man with the wicked features. Work was dull. I worked at a publishing company. It was my job to edit the books that were pulled in by the big wigs. During the night I went to school, trying to earn my degree in Literature. My life was slow and average. I tried best to express those same attributes in my appearance. I was unapproachable and enclosed. No one talked to me, and I talked to no one in turn.

It was misery.

I tried coping. I was good at at.

"Takeda."

I turned in my desk chair to see my boss holding out the manuscript I had edited yesterday.

"Yes?"

He frowned, setting the manuscript on my desk, "You missed several mistakes on pages three and seven. I can't have you making any more mistakes, Takeda. You need to straighten your act."

I nodded, chagrined. I never could focus. It was all thanks to that damned hallucination. Or man, whatever it was.

"Sorry sir, I promise to try and fix it."

Mr. Mauricio shook his head disparagingly and turned on the balls of his feet to walk back into his cushy office. I sighed and leaned back into my chair, closing my eyes and squeezing my temples. I needed to pull myself together.

I leaned forward and a long held breath wheezed out of my lungs. I set my jaw and went back to correcting my mistakes.

***

Nanao:

The rest of the work day was torture. I got three new short stories to edit and one of them wasn't even all in English. So in short, today was hell.

When leaving the office I locked the door behind me, as I was the last one there. I checked my cheap watch; it was nine pm. I groaned, trudging through the freezing parking garage. Goosebumps prickled my sensitive skin and I shivered; why did I chose to wear such a thin shirt in mid December?

When I arrived next to my junker I found the door unlocked, and I frowned. Usually I was more cautious than that, seeing as how I worked in the middle of New York city.

My car shuddered when I started it up, or tried to. Groaning, I turned my key three more times in vain. Shit. Today truly was a day from hell.

Well, at least the college wasn't very far from here. I sighed and pulled my longish hair up into a messy bun.

"Let's do this," I muttered to myself while taking the steps three at a time. I was short, but most of my minimal height was made up of my legs.

My legs felt numb and I huffed while I walked down the lightly snowed sidewalks. My breath billowed out of my parted lips in a translucent fog, joining the cold still air.

The streets were crowded, shivering bodies jostling and shoving each other to get to their destinations. I looked up, and could see no stars or the moon. The only light was the glow of the windows in the hulking buildings; the light pollution was far too great to allow any natural light.

My entire body was quivering with cold and I lacked the body hair to keep me warm. So I walked faster, soon sprinting. I was only three or four blocks away, and I grinned in anticipation of the heat.

The streets grew more and more crowded as I ran. Soon I could barely squeeze between the tall bodies, and I was desperate for warmth and I needed to get indoors before I became too claustrophobic.

I was shoved forward and my knees connected with the ground. The harsh crack was lost in the noise and confusion, but I winced. At least I wasn't being trampled.

A loafer covered foot made contact with my frail shoulder and I was slammed into the pavement.

"Damn it," I muttered, standing, "that hurts like a bitch."

I dusted myself off and glanced to my left, spying an alley that lead me closer to the college than if I kept walking. All I had to do was climb and jump the chain link fence.

I hesitated, pausing at the entrance to the alley. Wasn't this dangerous?

I shook myself, saying that nothing bad would happen. So I took a few steps into the derelict and cramped space littered with dumpsters.

My blue hands clamped down on the fence. My fingers linked through the chain and I hefted myself up the wall of linked metal.

I felt eyes on my back and I swiveled my head. A tall dark figure stood at the entrance of the alley.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the frozen metal. My heart raced and my breathing sped. I started climbing faster, but my boot clad foot slipped on ice frozen to the fence.

I came tumbling down to the icy concrete and smashed my arm to the ground. I was sure I felt a snap in my arm, but I barely winced. I was used to pain, but the adrenaline really numbed it.

My head rested on the ground and I breathed deeply. My head pounded where I had hit it and I saw two large black boots stepping in front of my widened eyes.

I closed my eyes and pushed a breath out between my icy lips.

This truly was the day from hell.

I was lifted by the scruff of my neck and my heart sputtered to a halt. This was like something from a horror movie. The frail innocent looking girl walked into an alley and was brutally stabbed to death for no apparent reason. And then I realized, *I* was the girl.

I quivered like a leaf caught in the wind and I stared into cold, dark eyes. A sinister smirk was plastered to his dark, russet colored face and I curled in on myself.

I couldn't speak, couldn't move. I opened my mouth to scream, but all that came out was a croak.

Before I knew what was happening I was flung violently into a dumpster. My aching arm slapped into the metal and I let out a scream. The loud sound was drowned out by the commotion of the street, and I laid on the cold grimy floor dragging in gasps of breath.

"You're a little faggot aren't you," he sneered, kneeling next to my bleeding form, "I can see it."

I couldn't speak but for little whimpers that spilled out of my lips. I just shook my head back and forth, hoping he would leave me to my misery.

"Yeah you are," he grinned manically, "You even look like a girl. If you like dick so much, then why don't you take mine?"

Horror, pure horror shot through my veins like the ice I was surrounded by. This was much worse than a gay bashing. I was about to be raped and there was nothing I could do about it.

I squeezed my eyes shut and cried. I felt my pants being ripped open and my underwear being cut off of my body. I sobbed into the ground and struggled to move away. He gripped my waist and I was sure he left bruises where his fingers dug punishing marks into my body.

Over the next hour I felt the most pain I had ever experienced in my life. A burning horrible agony ripped me in two, and there was nothing I could do but lay there and take it. I was left, broken and battered laying in the filthy alley. I cursed myself and sobbed, writhing on the icy ground. I could feel the cooling liquid leaking from the crack of my ass, and I wailed.

I heard a panicked shout, and then a bunch more. I was being turned over and moved around, I was poked and prodded and examined until I cried out in anguish.

Several comforting voices were murmured in my ear. They told me to hang on, to stay awake, that help was on it's a way.

I blacked out moments later, with the sensation of being lifted the last thing I felt.

***

Nanao:

I woke several times in a daze, faces and objects blurring together. I couldnt hear words, but rather voices. Random tones rang out in my ears, muted and muffled.

I passed out almost immediately after I woke. Multiple times I would freak out and gag on the tube in my throat, and a nurse had to come and sedate me.

I was plagued by memories, both new and old. Images of my time in the woods flew behind my eyelids. Green eyes blinked in front of my face; taunting and beautiful.

Then there was terror. Horrible pain and absolute fear shot through me like a bullet. I awoke, screaming and pleading into the nothingness of a dark hospital room.

I writhed in my bed, soaking my sheets in a cold sweat. A nurse rushed in and I was put under once again.

The anesthesia did nothing to keep my memories at bay, if anything they aided in my torture. I couldnt move, couldnt cry out as I was bombarded with image after image, words echoing in my mind. I was sure I was going insane.