Post by madascheese on Dec 15, 2007 9:12:38 GMT
Ok everyone, I'm back with vengeance!! Here's chapter one of my new VH fanfic, The Powers Within. It is going to be Dillan-centric for a lot of it, but our favourite vamps will, of course, be back on the scene before you know it ;D
Oh, and it might be quite different to the synopsis I posted a while back...I had quite a few changes of heart, but I'm pretty happy with the way things turned out
let me know what you think and, as always...enjoy! 
*************************
Dillan and her sire sat waiting, in the chilly gloom of the basement, for the others to arrive. Karl was tapping his fingers lightly, rhythmically on the grainy table-top, as if trying to stamp out the nerves that had distracted him since awaking this evening. He seemed uneasy, on-edge, as if he was worried about something; perhaps, Dillan thought, he was embarrassed about her, for her – though he was probably just embarrassed for himself. She couldn’t help but feel like an illegitimate child suddenly appearing out of nowhere; a ‘happy accident’? A ‘tragic accident’, more accurately, she mused.
They had not really interacted too much since her near-fatal meeting with the imposing Lord Vakaal – she wasn’t exactly sure what she should say to him, and vice-versa. For the most part, they greeted each other with awkward silences, quick smiles before looking away and busying themselves with some other way of wasting time. Verbal communication was only used when absolutely necessary, or when their quiet solitude inevitably got the better of them.
She didn’t feel able to relate to him; he turned out to be nothing but a big disappointment, impulsive and thoughtless, as her place at the academy had been guaranteed by her own input, not his; and yet he had presented himself so calmly – seductively, even – during her encounter with the contemptible Agent Hackett that she trusted him, and the knowledge she assumed he possessed, almost instantly. She was never the trusting type, but he had filled her with such sweet confidence that it was hard to resist in her hour of need. In the end, it was all just words; hollow, empty and useless – he was soon out of words when she needed him the most.
She had, however, decided not to dwell on this fact – she was used to ‘going it alone’, as it were, and it seemed to her that situations usually turned out for the best when she relied on herself, and herself alone. After all, she had been accepted at the academy, Lord Vakaal himself had looked her in the eye and she stood resolutely, yet with respectful fear, looking straight back at him. She had the feeling that not many people had been able to withstand such a searching, piercing look from him, but her determination had not failed her. So she was here, at the academy, with her hapless sire, but in existence nevertheless; she could stay here, resting in her deathly casket underneath the bustling school above, to learn and experience things she could never have imagined as a mortal. Imagine, she mused, what Malcolm would think of her now…and perhaps also what she would think of Malcolm if she could see him again.
After what seemed like a lifetime, they heard a loud series of metallic clicks and whirrs as the concealed door to the cellar opened, shooting a shaft of soft yellow light into the darkness. But only one figure stood at the top of the stairs; Dr Murdoch walked briskly down the stone stairs and greeted the young vampires.
“Where are the others?” Karl asked, looking confused but slightly relieved.
“They’re on their way,” Murdoch replied. “They’ve been delayed, so they won’t be here until tomorrow night. Are you two okay?” He walked over to the blood-store, mindful of the predatory creatures behind him, who were quickly following his footsteps. They watched him intently, like tigers ready to pounce, but holding back from their killer instinct.
“I guess,” Dillan replied, feeling her hunger growl keenly as the warm scent of fresh, human blood flowed through the chilly air. She looked at the teacher, thinking of nothing but crimson rivers and voluptuous pleasure – pure satisfaction. She looked away again to avoid temptation, feeling somewhat self-conscious as she realised what she was doing. It was difficult to look away when the demon inside her was encouraging her so readily; she could see the little quiver of the pulse on his neck, and she longed to destroy it…but she wouldn’t dare.
“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” The store swung open with a loud creaking noise as Murdoch removed the keys, moving briskly out of the way as his students darted towards their rations greedily. He had felt the prickle of hairs on the back of his neck rise on end warily; he had still never got used to the idea that these creatures could potentially kill him in a moment, if the temptation overcame them. The older ones seemed to deal with it better, though he still felt slightly wary when he unlocked the store with a pack of potentially vicious vampires behind him – one thing he had never forgotten was that they had once been killers; but he took precautions. He fingered the taser gun concealed in his pocket to reassure himself. He walked away, leaving the vampires to the sustenance that they craved, and headed towards the staircase. “Well, I’ll leave you both to it – you know where I am if you need me for anything.”
“Thanks,” the vampires replied through mouthfuls of freezing cold, but fresh, blood.
If there was one thing Dillan hated, it was being told what to do and when to do it. She had always been a free-willed character, and it was times like this that she had to severely repress her rebellious nature. Furthermore, her incessant hunger was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore; it howled at her when she stopped drinking from the plastic sachets, torturing her with desire through her deathly sleep, inciting dreams of craving-driven malice. The blood itself seemed a world apart from the velveteen fountains she drank deeply from at the expense of her victims; she couldn’t tell if it was human or synthetic, or perhaps from some poor animal – it tasted like cold honey laced with iron, as if it couldn’t hold the sweetness of the hot, fresh blood erupting from a mortal’s neck. She tried, unsuccessfully, to expel these thoughts from her mind.
The silence hung like an invisible curtain, encompassing childe and sire with its cool embrace. They sat separately, each wondering why the others had been delayed by a day, as well as how they would arrive; the day students were due to arrive on the same day also. Karl rested his head on his hands, feeling fairly satisfied with the usual rations, and glanced at his companion. She was still hungry; he could feel her intense discomfort keenly in the very base of his nature. He wanted to give her more, to nourish her and make her feel better, to right the wrong he had done in bringing her into his world. There had been many occasions, since they had been staying together, that he wanted to speak to her with comforting words, to joke and laugh with her, but every time he had approached her she fixed him with her steely green gaze, as if she knew what he was about to do and was reprimanding him before the deed had even been done.
He knew she was disappointed in him – he was pretty disappointed in himself – but he wished that she would give him the opportunity to redeem himself somewhat; to kindle a friendship or companionship from the situation, rather than perpetuating this endless, heavy awkwardness that lay between them. Karl watched as his childe lay, morosely, in her open casket with an old, leather-bound book in her hands. He could stand this no longer.
He walked over to her as she pierced him with that severe green glare, warning him, discouraging him - but he persisted. “Are you okay?” he asked gingerly.
“Fine, thanks,” came the curt response.
“You seem hungry still,” he replied.
“Aren’t you?”
He thought about his answer for a moment. “A little, I guess. I’ve just learned to deal with it. You’re doing well though, you know.”
“I have to – it’s not like I have a choice.” She sighed discontentedly, looking up at the silky, white moonlight flowing in calm rivers across the grey stone walls. How she longed to be outside, tasting the earthen autumn air and roaming the deep darkness of the night-time valleys. She felt as though she was being imprisoned by her own morality, as the cost of her freedom may one day become too heavy a burden to bear. She understood that Karl was trying to save her from this, but somehow she couldn’t help but resent him for it also.
“It gets easier. Honestly,” he replied earnestly. “You’ll get used to it. So…um, what are you reading?”
“You don’t have to make conversation you know. I’m quite happy with us ignoring each other, which we’ve got pretty good at. Why change now?” she added sarcastically.
“Sure. Whatever.” He was deflated, and tired of always making the effort. For now, he would surrender; she would come round after a while.
So they were back to politely ignoring each other, and Karl was back to lamenting the lack of additional company; he looked at the floor, sighed and sloped off to the other side of the room, feeling a little angry and a little hurt, like he’d been pushed away. Dillan stared at the crackled black ink printed on the pages in front of her, feeling that maybe she was being a little too harsh – after all, he was only trying to help. But, then again, he had not killed his own family, she presumed, and he made her this way; he could never understand what she went through, what she was still going through. The anger and injustice of it all bubbled darkly through her being as she furtively watched his sullen form. It occurred to her to ask him, to challenge and provoke him; how many victims fell to his fatal cravings? Had he felt the immense freedom of a world at his disposal, or really touched the deepest, darkest void of his soul, even for a few fleeting minutes? She held back though, feeling a small glimmer of sadness glitter in her conscience as she watched him lie down, silently, in his black coffin. They both felt the warning of the coming sunrise; their skin prickled in a curiously human fashion, as if they were about to shiver with fear, and the air began to change around them. A certain anxiety took over Dillan’s mind, finally expelling the cravings she had been fighting for several hours now as she followed Karl’s lead, closing her casket fully and lowering the lid, encasing herself in total darkness. She fell asleep as soon as the golden sun lifted itself over the distant horizon, instilling the usual intense fatigue she experienced at sunrise; soon enough, she was deeply asleep, and began to dream.
At first, she found herself walking through the portrait-lined hallways of the Academy at night, listening to the rhythmic, hypnotic beating of the multitude of resting hearts above her. She continued towards the staircase, now keenly aware of the candied scents of warm, human flesh becoming more and more intense in the midnight air. She climbed the stairs slowly, prowling from step-to-step; she wasn’t sure why she was doing it, or what she was going to do, but something within her told her to continue regardless.
She reached the landing quickly and, as soon as she made her first step on the soft, velvet carpet beneath her, a strange buzzing sensation flowed through her body, electrifying her senses. Something in the air was different, a kind of vibrancy possessed every particle surrounding her as though they were being vigorously manipulated, jostling around in such a way that invisible movement seemed to fill the empty corridors. Perplexed by this, she ventured further on down the corridor towards the dormitories where the day students slept, feeling excited as she drew closer and closer to the thing she wanted the most; until a girl of about her own age, her face completely blank but outlined with blossoming, golden hair, stood at the end of the passage.
She felt a certain anxiety about this strange creature – some sort of power was emanating dangerously from her as Dillan stood, rooted to the spot with uncertainty. She was sure the thing was human; there was her heartbeat sounding clearly in the dark passage, but there was definitely something quite different about this one. She decided to leave the way she came, but found herself unable to move at all as the mysterious girl began to laugh maniacally at her misfortune. The girl outstretched her hand, a folly of friendship, still laughing at the captured creature in her power. She muttered a few unintelligible words as Dillan’s fear grew to unimaginable heights, and an astonishingly bright sphere grew from her hand, marbled with fiery reds and brilliant yellows that lit the passage magnificently, though the girl’s face was still swathed in shadows. All she could do was watch this horrifying spectacle, her face contorted in fear and struggling to break free of her invisible bonds, holding her fast to the spot. Suddenly, the creature threw the flamed sphere towards her - it hit her squarely in the chest and with a sickening crackle and the stench of burning flesh, began to engulf her with fatal flames.
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” came the sweet, pretty voice of that mysterious, most powerful creature burning her alive. Dillan screamed and screamed in intense agony, as her eyes finally snapped awake and, sweating and petrified, she panted for breath. The last time she had dreamt such a vivid, life-like dream was during the first week of her awakening – after all, it was revelations from her dreams that restored her memory, and reminded her of what Karl had done. She was too tired to ponder this fact though as, swearing to herself that she would not forget the events of the dream, fell into a silent sleep once again.
The sun had risen fully by this time, spilling its bright orange rays over the extensive greens of the school grounds and bouncing excitedly off the surface of the lake, as the day students returned to the Academy for yet another year. They stood, chatting noisily, in the grand entrance of the school with their rucksacks and suitcases awaiting further instruction from their illustrious headmaster. There was a general mood of discontent bristling amongst them, despite the good-natured talk amongst friends sharing their experiences of the summer vacation. Mimi, looking refreshed and relaxed after a long spell in the Caribbean, looked around for her room-mate; but Dillan was nowhere to be seen. She began to get worried, asking Malcolm and Nick if they had seen her, but there had been no sign of her yet. Finally, she sat sadly on the bottom stair, her head in her hands, as she wondered why Dillan – who she had been fairly close friends with – would leave the Academy without telling her.
She looked up and around at the familiar faces – though there was one person she didn’t recognise. There was a girl stood alone with her black rucksack and suitcase, a new student. Mimi smiled kindly at her; the girl smiled back warmly as she walked over to sit next to her first possible friend, her long, golden hair haloed beautifully in the morning sunshine.
Oh, and it might be quite different to the synopsis I posted a while back...I had quite a few changes of heart, but I'm pretty happy with the way things turned out
let me know what you think and, as always...enjoy! 
*************************
Dillan and her sire sat waiting, in the chilly gloom of the basement, for the others to arrive. Karl was tapping his fingers lightly, rhythmically on the grainy table-top, as if trying to stamp out the nerves that had distracted him since awaking this evening. He seemed uneasy, on-edge, as if he was worried about something; perhaps, Dillan thought, he was embarrassed about her, for her – though he was probably just embarrassed for himself. She couldn’t help but feel like an illegitimate child suddenly appearing out of nowhere; a ‘happy accident’? A ‘tragic accident’, more accurately, she mused.
They had not really interacted too much since her near-fatal meeting with the imposing Lord Vakaal – she wasn’t exactly sure what she should say to him, and vice-versa. For the most part, they greeted each other with awkward silences, quick smiles before looking away and busying themselves with some other way of wasting time. Verbal communication was only used when absolutely necessary, or when their quiet solitude inevitably got the better of them.
She didn’t feel able to relate to him; he turned out to be nothing but a big disappointment, impulsive and thoughtless, as her place at the academy had been guaranteed by her own input, not his; and yet he had presented himself so calmly – seductively, even – during her encounter with the contemptible Agent Hackett that she trusted him, and the knowledge she assumed he possessed, almost instantly. She was never the trusting type, but he had filled her with such sweet confidence that it was hard to resist in her hour of need. In the end, it was all just words; hollow, empty and useless – he was soon out of words when she needed him the most.
She had, however, decided not to dwell on this fact – she was used to ‘going it alone’, as it were, and it seemed to her that situations usually turned out for the best when she relied on herself, and herself alone. After all, she had been accepted at the academy, Lord Vakaal himself had looked her in the eye and she stood resolutely, yet with respectful fear, looking straight back at him. She had the feeling that not many people had been able to withstand such a searching, piercing look from him, but her determination had not failed her. So she was here, at the academy, with her hapless sire, but in existence nevertheless; she could stay here, resting in her deathly casket underneath the bustling school above, to learn and experience things she could never have imagined as a mortal. Imagine, she mused, what Malcolm would think of her now…and perhaps also what she would think of Malcolm if she could see him again.
After what seemed like a lifetime, they heard a loud series of metallic clicks and whirrs as the concealed door to the cellar opened, shooting a shaft of soft yellow light into the darkness. But only one figure stood at the top of the stairs; Dr Murdoch walked briskly down the stone stairs and greeted the young vampires.
“Where are the others?” Karl asked, looking confused but slightly relieved.
“They’re on their way,” Murdoch replied. “They’ve been delayed, so they won’t be here until tomorrow night. Are you two okay?” He walked over to the blood-store, mindful of the predatory creatures behind him, who were quickly following his footsteps. They watched him intently, like tigers ready to pounce, but holding back from their killer instinct.
“I guess,” Dillan replied, feeling her hunger growl keenly as the warm scent of fresh, human blood flowed through the chilly air. She looked at the teacher, thinking of nothing but crimson rivers and voluptuous pleasure – pure satisfaction. She looked away again to avoid temptation, feeling somewhat self-conscious as she realised what she was doing. It was difficult to look away when the demon inside her was encouraging her so readily; she could see the little quiver of the pulse on his neck, and she longed to destroy it…but she wouldn’t dare.
“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” The store swung open with a loud creaking noise as Murdoch removed the keys, moving briskly out of the way as his students darted towards their rations greedily. He had felt the prickle of hairs on the back of his neck rise on end warily; he had still never got used to the idea that these creatures could potentially kill him in a moment, if the temptation overcame them. The older ones seemed to deal with it better, though he still felt slightly wary when he unlocked the store with a pack of potentially vicious vampires behind him – one thing he had never forgotten was that they had once been killers; but he took precautions. He fingered the taser gun concealed in his pocket to reassure himself. He walked away, leaving the vampires to the sustenance that they craved, and headed towards the staircase. “Well, I’ll leave you both to it – you know where I am if you need me for anything.”
“Thanks,” the vampires replied through mouthfuls of freezing cold, but fresh, blood.
If there was one thing Dillan hated, it was being told what to do and when to do it. She had always been a free-willed character, and it was times like this that she had to severely repress her rebellious nature. Furthermore, her incessant hunger was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore; it howled at her when she stopped drinking from the plastic sachets, torturing her with desire through her deathly sleep, inciting dreams of craving-driven malice. The blood itself seemed a world apart from the velveteen fountains she drank deeply from at the expense of her victims; she couldn’t tell if it was human or synthetic, or perhaps from some poor animal – it tasted like cold honey laced with iron, as if it couldn’t hold the sweetness of the hot, fresh blood erupting from a mortal’s neck. She tried, unsuccessfully, to expel these thoughts from her mind.
The silence hung like an invisible curtain, encompassing childe and sire with its cool embrace. They sat separately, each wondering why the others had been delayed by a day, as well as how they would arrive; the day students were due to arrive on the same day also. Karl rested his head on his hands, feeling fairly satisfied with the usual rations, and glanced at his companion. She was still hungry; he could feel her intense discomfort keenly in the very base of his nature. He wanted to give her more, to nourish her and make her feel better, to right the wrong he had done in bringing her into his world. There had been many occasions, since they had been staying together, that he wanted to speak to her with comforting words, to joke and laugh with her, but every time he had approached her she fixed him with her steely green gaze, as if she knew what he was about to do and was reprimanding him before the deed had even been done.
He knew she was disappointed in him – he was pretty disappointed in himself – but he wished that she would give him the opportunity to redeem himself somewhat; to kindle a friendship or companionship from the situation, rather than perpetuating this endless, heavy awkwardness that lay between them. Karl watched as his childe lay, morosely, in her open casket with an old, leather-bound book in her hands. He could stand this no longer.
He walked over to her as she pierced him with that severe green glare, warning him, discouraging him - but he persisted. “Are you okay?” he asked gingerly.
“Fine, thanks,” came the curt response.
“You seem hungry still,” he replied.
“Aren’t you?”
He thought about his answer for a moment. “A little, I guess. I’ve just learned to deal with it. You’re doing well though, you know.”
“I have to – it’s not like I have a choice.” She sighed discontentedly, looking up at the silky, white moonlight flowing in calm rivers across the grey stone walls. How she longed to be outside, tasting the earthen autumn air and roaming the deep darkness of the night-time valleys. She felt as though she was being imprisoned by her own morality, as the cost of her freedom may one day become too heavy a burden to bear. She understood that Karl was trying to save her from this, but somehow she couldn’t help but resent him for it also.
“It gets easier. Honestly,” he replied earnestly. “You’ll get used to it. So…um, what are you reading?”
“You don’t have to make conversation you know. I’m quite happy with us ignoring each other, which we’ve got pretty good at. Why change now?” she added sarcastically.
“Sure. Whatever.” He was deflated, and tired of always making the effort. For now, he would surrender; she would come round after a while.
So they were back to politely ignoring each other, and Karl was back to lamenting the lack of additional company; he looked at the floor, sighed and sloped off to the other side of the room, feeling a little angry and a little hurt, like he’d been pushed away. Dillan stared at the crackled black ink printed on the pages in front of her, feeling that maybe she was being a little too harsh – after all, he was only trying to help. But, then again, he had not killed his own family, she presumed, and he made her this way; he could never understand what she went through, what she was still going through. The anger and injustice of it all bubbled darkly through her being as she furtively watched his sullen form. It occurred to her to ask him, to challenge and provoke him; how many victims fell to his fatal cravings? Had he felt the immense freedom of a world at his disposal, or really touched the deepest, darkest void of his soul, even for a few fleeting minutes? She held back though, feeling a small glimmer of sadness glitter in her conscience as she watched him lie down, silently, in his black coffin. They both felt the warning of the coming sunrise; their skin prickled in a curiously human fashion, as if they were about to shiver with fear, and the air began to change around them. A certain anxiety took over Dillan’s mind, finally expelling the cravings she had been fighting for several hours now as she followed Karl’s lead, closing her casket fully and lowering the lid, encasing herself in total darkness. She fell asleep as soon as the golden sun lifted itself over the distant horizon, instilling the usual intense fatigue she experienced at sunrise; soon enough, she was deeply asleep, and began to dream.
At first, she found herself walking through the portrait-lined hallways of the Academy at night, listening to the rhythmic, hypnotic beating of the multitude of resting hearts above her. She continued towards the staircase, now keenly aware of the candied scents of warm, human flesh becoming more and more intense in the midnight air. She climbed the stairs slowly, prowling from step-to-step; she wasn’t sure why she was doing it, or what she was going to do, but something within her told her to continue regardless.
She reached the landing quickly and, as soon as she made her first step on the soft, velvet carpet beneath her, a strange buzzing sensation flowed through her body, electrifying her senses. Something in the air was different, a kind of vibrancy possessed every particle surrounding her as though they were being vigorously manipulated, jostling around in such a way that invisible movement seemed to fill the empty corridors. Perplexed by this, she ventured further on down the corridor towards the dormitories where the day students slept, feeling excited as she drew closer and closer to the thing she wanted the most; until a girl of about her own age, her face completely blank but outlined with blossoming, golden hair, stood at the end of the passage.
She felt a certain anxiety about this strange creature – some sort of power was emanating dangerously from her as Dillan stood, rooted to the spot with uncertainty. She was sure the thing was human; there was her heartbeat sounding clearly in the dark passage, but there was definitely something quite different about this one. She decided to leave the way she came, but found herself unable to move at all as the mysterious girl began to laugh maniacally at her misfortune. The girl outstretched her hand, a folly of friendship, still laughing at the captured creature in her power. She muttered a few unintelligible words as Dillan’s fear grew to unimaginable heights, and an astonishingly bright sphere grew from her hand, marbled with fiery reds and brilliant yellows that lit the passage magnificently, though the girl’s face was still swathed in shadows. All she could do was watch this horrifying spectacle, her face contorted in fear and struggling to break free of her invisible bonds, holding her fast to the spot. Suddenly, the creature threw the flamed sphere towards her - it hit her squarely in the chest and with a sickening crackle and the stench of burning flesh, began to engulf her with fatal flames.
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” came the sweet, pretty voice of that mysterious, most powerful creature burning her alive. Dillan screamed and screamed in intense agony, as her eyes finally snapped awake and, sweating and petrified, she panted for breath. The last time she had dreamt such a vivid, life-like dream was during the first week of her awakening – after all, it was revelations from her dreams that restored her memory, and reminded her of what Karl had done. She was too tired to ponder this fact though as, swearing to herself that she would not forget the events of the dream, fell into a silent sleep once again.
The sun had risen fully by this time, spilling its bright orange rays over the extensive greens of the school grounds and bouncing excitedly off the surface of the lake, as the day students returned to the Academy for yet another year. They stood, chatting noisily, in the grand entrance of the school with their rucksacks and suitcases awaiting further instruction from their illustrious headmaster. There was a general mood of discontent bristling amongst them, despite the good-natured talk amongst friends sharing their experiences of the summer vacation. Mimi, looking refreshed and relaxed after a long spell in the Caribbean, looked around for her room-mate; but Dillan was nowhere to be seen. She began to get worried, asking Malcolm and Nick if they had seen her, but there had been no sign of her yet. Finally, she sat sadly on the bottom stair, her head in her hands, as she wondered why Dillan – who she had been fairly close friends with – would leave the Academy without telling her.
She looked up and around at the familiar faces – though there was one person she didn’t recognise. There was a girl stood alone with her black rucksack and suitcase, a new student. Mimi smiled kindly at her; the girl smiled back warmly as she walked over to sit next to her first possible friend, her long, golden hair haloed beautifully in the morning sunshine.
Brilliant work as we've come to expect form you and your clever lil hand-demon. 
as a new original story has struck me which needs major development. I have drafted the second chapter of 'The Powers Within' but it desperately needs redrafting, so it might be a little while longer!
I'm sorry about that, but I can try to put them on another site if you like.