Ice Blue Gothic 7
** This story is licensed to Madison Aysha Dante and may not be reproduced or posted anywhere other than www.nifty.org without expressed written consent from the author which would be me :) You can find my other stories buy using the author guide, under Maddy A. I'd love to know your thoughts about this story and you can send them to:madison_aysha@yahoo.com or post a message at my yahoo group. if you have a problem getting to it, just let me know and I'll send you an invite.
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MaddyA_Stories
This story is also being hosted at http://www.rcwp.homestead.com/ a great place for quality fiction.
Ice Blue Gothic
PART SEVEN
Hazy Dreams
In his mind he saw colors. Deep blues mixing with a haze of confused yellows and greens. No faces, no sounds, just colors drowning out his mind with their blinding intensity. Damien wanted to open his eyes, make the colors stop moving, but he couldn't. He told himself to just open his eyes, but it was as if he had no power of his body. Then, a vision came. A beautiful girl, pale and white, appearing almost childlike came out through the hazy blue clouds of colors wearing a white dress with red silk trimming around the neck. She smiled at him as her long blonde almost white hair flowed past her face, dancing around her petite shoulders. She held her hand out to him and smiled as her bright blue eyes darkened into two round silver beams of light flowing out into him.
The silver light danced across his russet skin, feeling warm, but pleasant, where it touched. He walked over to her, reaching his hand down to take hers. She was so small, barely reaching his shoulder, yet something about her stance let Damien know that she was much older than she looked. The strong scent of tomatoes whipped past him. He could feel the bones in her hand breaking in his hand and when he looked down, the small, pleasant, child-like woman who's hand he had been holding was nothing but a pile of ash on the ground. Lifting his hand to his face, he watched little gray granules of burned remnants of flesh slip through his fingers. He looked down at the ground below his feet only to see nothing but the same haze of bright colors against a solid black shadow. Looking left, looking right, frantically searching for something , some form of life. Seeing none Damien started to run, but his feet didn't take him anywhere.
Closing his eyes and opening them back up he was in a room. A bedroom...not his bedroom...not one he could ever remember being in before. His arms were above his head, forced and when he tried to move them he could feel resistance. Turning his head and looking up he could see his hands bound with strong black leather bands. He could feel this intense pleasurable tingling on his cock and when he looked down he could see Rip's blue eyes peering up at him as he smiled before he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out to lick around the tip of Damien's hot, leaking cock. Damien watched as Rip closed his lips around his mushroom shaped head and engulfed his cock, rubbing his teeth along the shaft, traveling down to his balls and flicking gentle licks across them.
Closing his eyes and moaning, Damien let himself get lost in the pleasure. Then, the colors came back and the sensation stopped. He opened his eyes and found himself dressed in a black suit, hair slicked back and a red rose tucked in the upper right corner of his breast pocket. His hair was longer, in coal colored dreadlocks that fell to his shoulders and his goatee was neatly trimmed down to just a few casual short hairs.
He was in a room, a dark room that resembled a back room of a church. He walked out and saw the most magnificent church that he'd ever laid his eyes open. It was Gothic in its design, with high ceilings, stained glassed windows and a pulpit which was lit with what seemed to be hundreds of white candles. He turned around and saw a crowd behind him. After scanning the many faces he recognized one immediately, his mother. She was smiling at him, her black hair short from the chemo treatments and the pretty light yellow dress flowing against her light brown skin, making her appear vibrant and alive. He wanted to run over and hug her with the joy he was feeling at seeing her again and tell her that he had missed her. But when he tried to go to her, a hand on his wrist stopped him. He looked down and saw slender female fingers, one graced with a simple gold band.
He looked up and his eyes met the cold dark brown eyes of Jessica. She was smiling and he tried to shake her off of him, but she wouldn't let go . She whispered to him, "You left me...Damien you left me..." and he could feel his stomach churning with the nausea of guilt and the confusion of not knowing what to do. He twisted his hand out of her grip and when he turned back around to face his mother, all he saw was a skeleton with a dirty dark yellow dress on. He looked around the crowd and the sea of people that were there moments before had turned to seas and seas of dead bodies all dressed up in nice suits and dresses as if they were going to a wedding.
The sight horrified Damien and all he wanted to do was run out, but his feet were stuck to the molding carpet, melting his feet into its dark red fibers. The beautiful church now appeared old, depilated with blackened walls and broken out windows blowing in cold drafts. The smell of fresh burning wood and decayed flesh filled his nostrils. The grip on his hand returned and when Damien looked back, there stood Rip. His hair was combed back with small bangs of hair falling down the sides of his face and his face smooth and bare, making him appear almost angelic in a devilish manner. Like Damien, Rip was wearing a suit too, only his was black with little white pin strips and the rose in his pocket breast was white. Rip smiled at Damien and leaned into him. Damien closed his eyes as he let him kiss him. He could feel his heart beating in his chest as he felt the rush of Rip's tongue gliding over his in the most pleasant of ways. Damien felt good with Rip, so good that he was smiling as they kissed.
Opening his eyes again, Damien was back in the swirl of blue lights. The scent of tomatoes returned and he closed his eyes wanting to go back to where he just was. He felt a slender female hand come around his and he opened his eyes to see the childlike woman again. She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a shrill scream of pain as flies flew out and on his face. Blood poured out of her mouth, turning black and evaporating into the air before any could fall down to the nothingness of the ground. Pushing her away, Damien closed his eyes again, hoping the sight would leave him and we he re-opened them all he saw was black. Nothing, but black. He tried to re-open his eyes again, but still, nothing happened. He couldn't see, he couldn't hear and he couldn't move. It was like he was dead.
Rip stood at the doorway, watching Damien sleep for the second night. By the next morning Damien would be awake and Rip wondered what he would be like after his re-birth. Some vampires kept their human side after they turned while others lost all traces of any humanity. Rip had kept his, but over the years he was finding it hard to hold on to it and if given a choice, he always surrendered to his darker side. After all, it is more fun to play in the dark than to dance in the light. Feeling that familiar tingle in his stomach, Rip knew that he needed to feed. ~~~~\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*~~~~ The hunt was always the same. That itchy feeling on the tip of his tongue that was impatiently flickering with the want of sweetness that only the bitterness of blood could provide. His black leather boots glided over the patches of ice, hidden securely under the fresh blanket of snow. The road was nearly deserted. It was much too cold, too late for most people to be outside, but she was. Her hair wasn't very long, only falling just above her shoulders, and it was a duller shade brown. She wasn't very small nor big, but only in the middle where her body was soft and full. Rip could sense her fear as she walked, her thighs shaking in her four inch heels as she unsteadily tried to balance herself. She couldn't be a day over eighteen, big brown eyes innocently staring down at the white snow and, in her mind, she was thinking about the kind of life she had chosen. Prostitute...even the mere thought of the word made her want to cry, but that was what she was. Her life hadn't been hard except for the fact that she had made it that way. She picked up her first bottle at twelve, popped her first cap at thirteen and by sixteen she had opened her first bag. Of course when you have a need, you need to support it and mommy and daddy stopped trying to fix their little girl when they caught her trying to convince her little brother to shoot-up. She only wanted the company so she wouldn't feel so alone. Rip knew he could have her, she would have been easy to get. Quick and easy was something that he usually didn't prefer, but it was something that, for the moment, he would be grateful for because as much as he would never admit it to anyone, he wanted to finish watching Damien sleep. A tap came to her shoulder and she fixed her dark brown eyes into the brightest set of blue eyes she'd ever seen. "Hi...um...are you...working?" The guy asked her. She assumed he must have been barely eighteen with how small he was, the top of his head barely reaching her chin. His shoulders were slender and he had a timid shake to his speech that she would have found enduring if her fingers weren't itching to make a few quick dollars and her mind wasn\`t telling her not to make small talk. "Forty to fuck, twenty to blow and thirty half and half." She stated. The low drawl of her voice that she tried to make purr out like sex off of her lips wavered and Rip had to force down the smile that threatened to slip off of his lips in a condescending grin. "Um...um...I only have a twenty." He stated nervously as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his black wool jacket. He squinted his eyes shut to fight the bitter cold of the wind blowing into his eyes. To her, he looked innocent. The way he fumbled over his words and nervously wouldn't look her in her eyes. The virgins were always like that, afraid and timid of the prospect of their first time and the fear of doing something dirty and illicit for money with a stranger. "Don't be scared baby...Karen's gonna suck you real good. You got a car?" She asked as she peered down at him, pulling her leather jacket closer to her body. "No--No---do you think we can do it, over there in the park?" Rip asked as he pointed over to the park across the street. It wasn't a park so much as an open space with a few benches with surrounding trees and a few bushes that could hide them well. Karen smiled softly as she started the clack of her heels crushing the snow on the ground. She walked into the park not bothering to make sure that Rip was following. "So, what's your name baby?" She asked out of nervousness. Despite this being the second year she had been pulling tricks, that nervousness right before the deed had was to be done always returned. Especially with the darkness and seclusion of the park. Her pimp was supposed to be nearby watching to make sure she was safe, but he wasn't very reliable. "Rip..." "What kind of name is that?" She asked, still walking a few paces ahead in search of a bench where she could sit on that wasn't completely covered in snow. "How about I show you what it means..." Rip teased, letting his true, deep, arrogance of his speech drawl. "Honey, you can stretch me as wide as your twenty bucks!" She teased and laughed to herself quietly. She hated it when the johns got cocky, only finding confidence in the darkness. She turned around to get on her knees and start the act, but when she did, Rip was gone. A rough push to her back sent her flying face first to the hard cold ground, bumping her chin. "HEY ASSHO-" She started to scream, but then a heavy weight crushed her body into the snow and she could feel her hair being pulled over to the side as her cheek was forced into the ground, numbing it as the snow melted against it. Then, there it was, a sharp piercing of her flesh and for a moment she thought she was getting stabbed, but then she could feel lips being pressed against her neck and sucking. The force of his mouth to her neck was so rough that at first, she wasn't sure what he was doing, but then the pulling and snapping at her flesh and the tension of her blood being coursed out told her that what was happening; something that only happened in nightmares. She screamed...she screamed so loudly that for a moment, the snow stopped falling and the sky stood still. Her shrill cry was silenced as a hand entangled in her hair and crashed her head into the concrete making everything go black... To Be Continued.... (c) Madison Aysha Dante 2007 FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED!!!