Eighteen troubled teenagers wake up one morning to an even more troubling discovery. They are all vampires...
Given the chance to correct their Scrooge like behaviors, they must accept the guidance of a keeper. Assigned to each of the eighteen, Dek...
The chill of stale morning air wrestles against my skin. Far beneath the surface, the tug of unfiltered power fights for purchase. Grappling with the dry October air, my power forms a static bubble around me. Surging forward, it sets everything that comes near it reaching for the sky.
Rising on uneven knees, I stumble blindly into the sun's glare. Soaking up the heat as I reflexively squint against it's rays.
Fates, I really should have cursed the sun sooner.
Ace
The floor is soundless beneath me as I take evenly measued steps towards the stitting room. A heavy weight blankets my senses, manipulating them to it's will.
My eyes fly open, peering at the tread worn floor. The wood is peppered with gashes, marring a lost beauty. Moving a booted foot forward, the sound of the wood groaning beneath my feet echos through my ears.
The sound of glass shattering shatters my memory. Glancing at my feet I catch sight of the scuffed marble floor.
The sun lights her blond curls giving them a golden glow. Moving around like a newly resurrected member of the dead, she stumbles through the glass. As her foot lowers to the spray of shiny glass shards I find myself standing next to her. Vampire speed will never cease to be so weird and out of place.
Sliding one arm beneath her knees, I gently place the other behind her shoulders. Easing her into my arms, she flails her limbs violently. Making it seem as if she has eight legs instead of two.
Just when I'm confident that I've got ahold on her, the side of her hand connects with the column of my exposed neck. Startled, my agility runs to cower as my back meets the floor after shattering two thick sheets of glass.
What I assume are pieces of the dismembered table, take flight throughout the room. Shattering delicate vases in a flurry of rapid commotion. Followed by a not so ladylike stream of unspeakable curses.
Her shadow looms over me as her face comes into focus. From my current angle on the floor, everything looks drab in comparison to her icy blue eyes.
"Hmm, your mother would be very disappointed to catch you gawking." Her words have a lilt of laughter to them as she extends her arm. Her distant demeanor from the day before seems to have disappeared.
Focusing on the obstacle at hand, her brow furrows in concentration as she helps me up. If only I had the heart to remind her that I'm neither winded nor injured by the blow. Yet, I enjoy watching her. Watching the way the wheels in her head turn by her every facial expression. Watching her put everyone first in her own way, even though her comments suggest otherwise.
Peering at me through narrowed eyes, she rips me from the notebook of my thoughts.
"Who was it this time?" My face stretches into a knowing smile.
"Not a who, but a what." She tips her head as if deep in thought. So I plow on, enjoying every second of her struggle.
"These tiny little thoughts piping in here and there." Her frown is about ready to jump off of her freckled face.
"Fates, if I would have know that you could think, I would have taken advantage of it." Her face beams so bright it fills the space like a lamp, adding to the ambiance.
Smiling like two buffoons, we seem to have forgotten the mess that she created.
"Dekka."
"You guys must be allergic to silence." She mumbles as she surveys the full extent of the damage. Her eyelids flutter closed as she lifts her arms, as if preparing to take flight.
Every lone shard of glass, both big and small rise from the floor. The debris spins carousel style around her as steam rises from each piece. The steam becomes a curtain around her as the glass liquifies. Then, with a final swipe of her hand, the molten glass drops. Worming it's way into every crack and subtle fracture of the marble floor.
Fates.
As fast as it appears, the steam evaporates Revealing an almost unrecognizable sitting room. The glass monstrosity of a coffee table is replaced by a sleek wood one, donning trendy magazines. In addition, each vase is replaced by small potted succulents. As I continue my three sixty spin, I take stock of the new frames, lighting and overall aesthetic.
Daring to meet her icy eyes with my wide ones, I find her watching with crossed arms.
"Stalker." I huff. She shakes her head sending her curls bouncing as she makes her way into the kitchen.
"If I'm not to be mistaken, you just displayed genuine awe." With a smirk that deserves a category all of it's own, she pulls out a chair.
"You might want to take a seat for this portion of the show, my skills have affects on your equilibrium." Her confidence is unworldly, yet I can sense every ounce of insecurity...
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