pain and anger flood back one by one
they must be just around the bend
they always come
at night as i lay sleeping
they come to me in herds
their lies remain the dreams the same
its only fleeting words...
One of the down sides of being a vampire: enhanced sense of everything. She sensed death before she could smell it. And when she did it was a noxious gas that no human could stand without protection. But being a vampire she was well aquainted with death and didn't mind the scent.
She stepped through the broken threshold, retaining her hold on her vision through the smoky clouds that assaulted her. The wood still smoldered even though the fire died out at least an hour ago. Despite the three inch heels and the unsteady footing, she made not a sound as she passed through the rubble, no more than a shadow on the wind. Knowledgeable footsteps carried her to the back staircase and up she ascended following the putrid scent. The stairs were weak and ready to crumble, but somehow they held her weight as she made her way up. Another pass down the hall and into a room on the left and she reached her destination.
She stepped into a pool of black blood, tarnished from the smoke and looked to smoldering corpse lying in the center of the room. He cut her throat first, probably enough for a slow death as the blood seeped out of the wound. She could almost see it. She would have died slowly, but then came the fire. Not only did she have to watch her life's blood pour out before her, but she would be too weak to fight the flames. He probably watched the whole thing untouched by fire through some spell of protection. Watched it..and enjoyed it.
Two more steps carried her to the body where she knelt beside it, staring down at her former mentor and beloved foster mother. She'd lost her own mother when she was just a girl, now three hundred years later it was like she had found her again. She laid a gentle hand on what would have been her forehead. "Forgive me, Anya," she said softly. She began to pull her hand away and stand when another hand gripped hers tightly. Charred eyelids opened and white orbs stared up at her. She cried out and tried to pull away but the grip was so tight. The corpse's other hand reached out for her face, nails drawn to claw out her eyes. She screamed...
Cally woke in a cold sweat, chest heaving though no breath was drawn. "Anya.." she murmurred. She looked down at Val's still sleeping form. She had only screamed in her dream...or else he slept so deeply he hadn't heard and for that she was grateful. She hadn't dreamed so vividly in many weeks. She ran a hand through her dark curls and laid back down tentatively. She knew such dreams could be insight into the past or a sign of the future. The question was...which was this? It could have been nothing..but if it indeed it was nothing, why was she still shaking?