tiyania

"Not again…" She sighs in frustration as Kyo and Bon start yet another one of their ridiculous arguments over who is whose servant.  As if Kyo could ever be anyone's servant! "Don't try to stop them." "I know better than that," she lies, sounding nonplussed.  "I just wish lunch hour could be quieter.  Why couldn't those idiots skip school today like they always do?" "Admit it - you missed Kyo." Her breath catches  - I've hit the mark dead-on (not that it took much).  "N-no way!!  Like I care if I never see some deadbeat who takes my money and calls me "dog-face" and "servant" ever again!" It's cute, the way she gets so flustered when sh

 Aya slowly blinked away the strange dream images, returning back to the sour reality of her room. She climbed out of bed and walked over to the mirror that hung on the far wall above her dresser. She began to gather her clothes for the day, but curiosity caught her, making her look at the side of her neck. A pair of crimson red bite marks stood out on the pale of her skin; small trickles of blood ran down from each puncture, trailing to the base of her neck. She continued to stare, slowly running her tongue over her crack lips, stopping as she felt another pair of puncture marks on her bottom lip. She looked forward, examining her face in th

Carrie’s silhouette along the walls of the dark corridors in the library stretched and bent along with the flickering of the torches. She rubbed her arms absentmindedly despite the fact that the hot desert weather was making her sweat profusely. Right now, however, her cold sweat was making her shiver. The dust and sand stuck to her hair and skin and clothes, forcing her to scratch her arm or stomach or somewhere to get that uncomfortable chaffing feeling to go away. The old Egyptian library had been discovered only a few weeks ago in the old ruins of an abandoned village about thirty miles off the booming city of Cairo. And in about tw

My teeth, Long and sharp, Run up and down your shivering body, Gently, like playing a harp. Long, soft strokes, My snow white hand moves, And grabs your head, While my voice soothes. I whisper calming thoughts, Putting calming things in your mind, With my voice and my eyes, I hold you in a bind. Yet that does not stop the shivering, The fear in your face, You do not understand, Me, or my race. Tempted, and temped no more, My long-since dead heart beats, Wanting to live again, Wanting to taste your blood like sweets. It is no longer I can wait, I sink my fangs into your flesh, Into that skin so pale with fear, The skin o