My Twisted Little World

זהו סיפור שכתבתי
not many moons ago.

הוא לא שלם, אז תהיו מוכנים לסיפור ללא סוף.
הוא באנגלית, מקווה שתהנו.


Hate, Love, Torture, BDSM, Tea, & Vampires


CHAPTER 1


The plague mellowed, survivors of the known world surfaced to the grim truth of their pale existents.
The black plague swept away hundreds of thousands of innocent and not-so-innocent lives. It soared like the vulture of death, and took with it a thousands souls to rot forever in the never-ending pits of darkness
.
From the ashes they rose, two peaks of humanness, for they were not at all human.
They could not be described only for the look in their eyes, that would pierce through any being that might look upon them.
"It is a new time, brother. We shall not know famine nor pain again. Our time has come." Said one of them; his long hair seemed to merge with the darkness itself.
"Times are not well, my friend. We must not take glory, but pursue those of us who are left. If we are to seize the world, we shall grip it by its core."


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Now we shall go back, when time was just a young lad, with freckles and a playground. Many things grew in those days, with loneliness at heart, for they will all be the first of their kind, and for now, the only.

Somewhere, a spec of light tingled. One life that got it's eye caught on it, stepped closer. The touch of the creature sucked its energy to that spec. And a new life was born. Slaughtering the old one into the dust.
And using a voice and language that no-one could ever understand it said something, which is best translated to the English phrase, "this will do".


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"Time is of the essence, my friend" said a long, dark figure.
"Don’t talk to me about time, you insolent twit, I've had plenty of it, can't say the same for you, brother". Said another, as they raced through the grubby streets of London. "Well, it's not my fault you're getting old, old friend" said the first and reached down to his sword. It wasn't half way out when something cold and sharp tickled his Adam's apple.
"I am not, getting old. I'll detach your head any day to prove it, boy". Rophen hated being called 'boy'. He had outlived a million men, but by his brother, he will be the boy forever. His brother, his 'master', was Kenroen, he loved him more then death itself, more than the hunt, more than the kill, and even more than the torturing between. "Rophen! No more dreaming, do you want to feast?" said his master, speeding next to him. They climbed on the building, running on its walls, like two spiders weaving a web.

Two women were running. They didn’t know from what, but they knew that if they stopped, they would learn the awful truth.

Two figures landed in front of them, their skin was as white as snow, but they where black as night itself
"Hello ladies" said the long-haired one.
He had a grin like the devil himself.

Everything went black.

When the ladies awoke they were chained to the ceiling.
"What…what's going on..?" said one of them, she had beautiful blonde hair and brilliant green eyes, her skin was pale white and she had the body of Aphrodite herself. Her naked body, exposed in the light, showed beautiful breasts, and a flat stomach.
She tried to turn to her friend but she wasn’t there.
But then, she heard the screams.




CHAPTER 2

She sleeps like an angel, in the presence of one of the angels of Death.
He paints her naked body in his sketchbook. Letting the pencil almost float in the air as he gently strokes the page with it.

New York City, 1996

He finished, and closed the book with a thud. She awoke.
"Is it morning already, darling?" she says, turning her face to him, still lying there.
"Yes, my love." Rophen replied. "And the day is full of tasks, so get dressed, before I feel the urge for one extra task".
"And that's supposed to make me want to dress?" she replayed, with a grin on her thin, elegant lips.
Rophen came out of the chair, edged closer to the women on the bed, grabbing her hair and holding her face close to his.
"As much as I'd like to ravage you again (and again, I might add) my love, I must be off soon, so please, get dressed!". He threw her head on the pillow.
She raised herself from the comfort of the bed and took her bra off the floor. "You know, when you want to get a girl to dress, you shouldn't turn her on like that, my dear boy."
A slap went passed her face, she fell to the floor.
"Don’t call me boy! Is that clear?" He looked at her with cold eyes.
She rose, covering her left cheek. "Yes, I'm sorry".
"Don't be sorry! Be gone! I have work to do". He said, his expression did not change.
She got dressed slowly, hoping he would stop her: he didn’t.
They didn’t exchange a word, the silence after the storm.
Finally, as she was at the bedroom door, she turned and said "I love you, Ron".
She waited only for a second, and then left. A few moments later he heard the apartment door being shut.
"They all did, my precious." He muttered


Yorkshire. 1788

She screams as the blade pierces her skin.
"Not too deep, my brother, we don’t want her to pass out of sheer pain."