Him

Prologue

He stood tall, at least six and a half feet, staring down at me with his cold, dead eyes, their dark blue color making his pure white face look somehow paler. His shoulder-length black hair was messy looking, even when tucked behind his pointed elf-like ears, barely even touched by the howling, buffeting wind.

As he clenched his fists, the muscles under his thin, elongated arms bulged unnaturally. He bared his whitened teeth, snarling, and I felt his hot breath against my forehead. His spindly fingers grabbed my left bicep with an unexpected strength and speed, making me wince as pain flooded through my arm.

I swiveled my head, trying to find someone, anyone, to help me, but the street was desolate and quiet, and no one was around. No one to save me from this beast-like boy.

He pulled me into him harshly, making my hair fall away from my neck, leaving it exposed. His sharp fangs protruded through his pale gums as if he were preparing to feast. I cried out in pain as his claw-like nails plunged into the soft skin of my arm, drawing out oozing crimson blood. He ran his dark, dried tongue along his keen-edged fangs in hunger. His left hand rose to wrap around my throat as he let out an inhuman growl. What had I done to become a victim of his inexorable anger? I had never hurt him, nor his few friends or almost extinct family members... What had I done?

Almost as if he had read my mind, his grip on me loosened. I jerked away from him, hissing as his nails scratched my already damaged skin as I did, extracting more blood. Hot tears stung my eyes as I clutched my injured arm in my right hand. I watched the cloudiness in his eyes disappear as he came to, his eyes now a gleaming and beautiful blue, and he almost looked normal. As he saw me, covering my bleeding wound which he had inflicted on me, my eyes wet, my face red and puffy from crying, his expression became one of sadness, guilt, concern, fear, all in replacement of rage. He took a wary step towards me and I flinched away, terrified and hurt both physically and emotionally. I backed off slowly, afraid to make any sudden moves, not wanting to provoke him again.

He moved back now, staring down at his bloodied fingers, his face contorted in disgust at himself. I took his bewilderment as a chance to flee, my heart pounding loud enough for me to hear it as adrenaline coursed through me as if my heart itself was trying to break through my ribcage and out of my chest.

I sprinted through a large open field, my feet hitting nothing but dead grass and dried-up dirt. The harsh wind whipped at my hair, plastering some of it onto my bright red face, now sticky with sweat. I felt my unfit lungs burning as I struggled for breath and my eyesight became almost useless, but I still held the determination to keep running. My life depended on it.

I heard loud footsteps thudding on the barren ground not far behind my own, my name being called by his raspy, deep voice which sounded as if it were being yelled from the mouth of a dying man. I sped up desperately, but the blood which had been draining steadily from my upper arm proved too much as I felt my exhausted legs give out beneath me. I collapsed to the ground, wheezing, coughing, gasping frantically for air, my lungs now beginning to give out on me too.

After that, the last I can remember was his face, his perfect face, above my own. Him kneeling over me, crying, shouting my name despondently.