Get a hold of yourself, what are you doing? I snarled to myself in my head, unable to keep myself tame.
For some reason, I feel rushed. Unaware of my surroundings- so I decide to pull over to the entrance of the forest, pulling up at the side of the road with my black AMG Mercedes, hearing distinct growling and snarling further ahead. I quickly scatter out of my car, running to where my instincts think that the noises were coming from.
My instincts appear to be right as I can hear it gradually getting louder, like a volume control on a CD player, slowly but smoothly. I pick up my pace, recognizing that scent and familiar smell of deep rich warm blood. They’re at it again, aren’t they? I sigh to myself, running faster to the location, ignoring the fact that the tree branches were smacking at me in the process- making me feel as if it was a bad thing to do, that I should keep my distance from them. But I ignored that side of me, and helped them. The figures I recognized were dark and shaded, almost like shadows, but I can just manage to see the outlines of their bodies. The stronger one, with more of a broad attractive figure, had pinned the smaller but more gentle and petrified one against the tree. I can tell he was badly injured as his left arm was dislocated and limp compared to his right arm, and he tried fighting back with his weakest arm. Their fangs were bared and extended sharply, they almost looked like savages, unwanted animals fighting until someone begs for mercy.
Oh no… not this again.
‘Stop- guys, please!’ I yell in a panic manner, running towards them as their heads snapped together to face mine. The smaller ones eyes, Patch- were bright green and his pupils were tall and thin, as if he was being possessed by another. His mousey brown short but stylish hair had been messed up, as if he had only just gotten out of bed, or he had been dragged through a bush repeatedly. The stronger one, Stark, his eyes were a deep dark crimson red shade, on the verge of black, his lust to kill his own brother. They didn’t say anything, but I shoved Stark out of the way forcefully and firmly so Patch can have his space to breath. I find my fangs extending out of habit as Starks broad hands are squeezing tightly as they’re clutched onto my shoulders, as if he was trying to push me of. His sharp vampire nails dug into my flesh, and I let out a sharp painful cry.
‘Stark!’ Patch’s distinct voice roared from behind, he felt so close- but when I turned around he was supporting himself on a tree with his good hand, breathing heavily, exhaling and inhaling every few seconds he had the chance to.
Stark ignored him and focused his dark lustful eyes onto mine. His sharp nails slowly released themselves from my shoulders, and the tiny marks rapidly concealed themselves. Stark’s eyes were fierce, but still longing to kill.
‘Y…you’re here,’ Stark stammered hesitantly, his eyes now focused on my image. I tried smiling, but it felt so weak. Patch nervously crept over to us and stiffly raised his good hand up, placing it sluggishly on Stark’s shoulder, and he pulled himself back away from him, without realizing he fell to the ground. Everything, felt broken.
‘How-when did you get here? How is she here- Patch? I thought she was dead…’ He trailed off, clutching onto his heart gently.
This is the part where everything falls back down again… slowly… unconditionally… and then all at once.