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Camp Half Blood is the sister site of Camp Jupiter.

 

 Gothic fiction *yawn*

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welshy
out of town girl
welshy


Posts : 3630
Join date : 2011-11-22
Age : 25
Location : burning in the underworld

Gothic fiction *yawn* Empty
PostSubject: Gothic fiction *yawn*   Gothic fiction *yawn* I_icon_minitimeTue Feb 14, 2012 1:39 pm

*I had to write this for school and, though I really want to, I don't know whether it is worth continueing. I mean, I have stuff on Wattpad that I am in the process of writing so I don't know whether it is worth it. This was meant to be short but the wrier side of me sort of got carried away and I wrote waaaay more than I should've. So, basically I wanted your opinion on if I should continue and what could happen because honestly, I don't plan anything, I am like, the least organised person in the world. Everything I write, RP or whatever, is all of the top of my useless mind.....anyway.....*


Prologue


The grey cloud of smoke circled around Cezar’s face, contrasting well with the shadows. He remained still, like a marble angel in a grave-yard. There was no sounds to be heard, just the deathly quiet that seemed to be creeping through every nook and cranny, spreading the sullen atmosphere. The fading white light from the street light flickered maddeningly before finally giving up its last attempts of life. He stepped back, pressing his back to the cold, meaningless brick of the chapel. It had been abandoned many years ago due to being unstable. Not that Cezar protested; it was quite convenient for him, being this close to her, that is.
A large, dying taxi rumbled past, breaking the silence for a minute before the street became dead once more. The wind was nothing but a breeze; only enough to ruffle Cezar’s light brown hair, yet it was chilling. He took one last gasp at his cigarette before flicking down on the pavement, stamping on it briefly with his foot before leaping through the air. The wind played at his hair as he soared. Even though he was hundreds of feet up, Cezar was not scared. He had been one of the night for seven hundred years now. He knew there was nothing to fear.
Apart from him, that is.
He landed soundlessly on the roof, the window pane shaking slightly with a small screech. He took a step forward towards it, peering through the misty glass and the small gap in the curtains. The room was dark yet his advanced sight could make out every single detail as if a thousand watts of light had been shined. He could hear it as well; the soft thrum of her beating heart as she slept. His bright green eyes moved over to her, sleeping peacefully in her bed. He gritted his teeth, his fangs instantly snapping down as he fought back a growl that was building up inside his chest. She had made him this. Turned him into this monster and he couldn’t even change himself back. His disturbed memories haunted him once more.
“You cannot help them, my friend.” She had said to me, addressing me with such kindness.
“Surely there must be someway to help them.” I begged, holding the hands of my Little brother as he lay in his still bed, the bubonic plague having taken over his appearance and mind.
“There is none.” She growled, growing tired and losing her patience. “Be thankful you are still alive. They will not survive past midnight.”
Filled with burning rage, I grabbed my sharpened sword from in front of the cold fireplace and swung at her neck. Before even making contact with her skin, the steel cracked and turned to dust, turning to a pile of ashes before my eyes. She had screamed out an incantation, the fires of hell blazing in her eyes. Then, she was gone, leaving me gasping for breath and trying to control myself from sucking the diseased blood out of the dying carcasses of my family.
Cezar snapped out of it when a loud truck grumbled past, hurting his sensitive ears. With one last glance at the monster that had made him into a carnivore, he broke out into a sprint. Faster than anyone else on the planet, Cezar travelled like a bullet from a gun, showing no mercy to anyone that got in his way. Even after seven hundred years, the run was exhilarating. It got the adrenaline pumping throughout his lifeless veins and there was only one thing he loved more.
Blood.
His thirst screamed at him like a lunatic behind prison gates. It could not be tamed, but lies in wait, dormant until your control finally broke. As much as he tried to, he could not live without it. As much as he tried to, the beast inside him could not be controlled with a strike of a whip. It was just too powerful.
Cezar came to a halt, his leather duster twirling around him as it tried to get back in with gravity. His mobile vibrated inside his pocket yet he let it ring; having no interest with modern technology. He had no clue why Seth insisted him have it. All Cezar wanted to do was crush it into granules in his palm. He was in no such mood for these new toys. He had only one thing on his mind.
The hunt.
He shut his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose. At once, his brain became a shelter for all the scents around the cemetery. Many were of the decayed bodies that had been dug into the Earth. There was one or two that would have got his heart racing, if he had one. He assessed them; the alcohol consumption, drug intake, etc, etc… Finally, he narrowed it down to a middle-aged man, about half a mile East in the large grave-yard. His scent was layered all over the grounds so Cezar could only come to the conclusion that he must be the grounds-keeper. He shouldn’t be missed too much; at least he could be buried at his home.
Once again, Cezar shot at a supernatural speed towards the Human, engulfed in the shadows from the high trees. He slowed his pace, watching the man with his flashlight, scanning around for grave-robbers probably. What they would want to steal from here was a mystery. He must be half mad, Cezar thought bitterly. He watched the man mumble to himself, complaining about his divorce and about the teenagers that had broken into the cemetery a few nights before. Cezar studied him for a moment before it happened.
The lunatic had escaped.
His fangs snapped down, his green eyes flashing red around the pupil. He surged forward, slamming the man with such speed that he didn’t even have time to blink, let alone let out a tortured scream. Cezar slammed him down against a tomb-stone, doing it with so much practice that no blood was spilt. That was until he sank his fangs into the man’s jugular. He moaned with delight, letting the beast take full control whilst the bright moon still hung in the black, starless sky.
“You should have been more careful. It was easy to follow you.” Someone said from behind Cezar, forcing him to drop the deceased body from his arms. He wiped his bloody mouth with the back of his hand, whipping around to see her standing there; the one that he had watched, the one that had changed him.
“Evelyn.” He growled, his fangs still down as he addressed her. Her hair – the same shade as his – twirled around her, making her look like a Goddess… or a demon.
“How are you these days?” She asked, her hands relaxed at her sides. “Brother?”


By Welshy Cerys
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