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Story numero one: Hunted.
Rating: PG13.
Characters: Anita, Edward and Sigmund? confused
Original Characters: None.
Storyline: It involves a dream about guns, running and a... dancing Sigmund? o.O

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I was running. Running for my life. But what was I running from? This started out to be another running dream, but the feeling of dread filled my stomach and made me doubt my first thoughts. My breath came in gasps and I was fighting for air as my legs kept moving, burning from the adrenaline which was soon going to wear off.

The forest I was running through reached out to me, every branch and twig catching on my clothes and making me stumble. Suddenly the scene changed and I was no longer in a forest, I was in the red light district. I didn't stop running, it was all I could do to stop the thing behind me from catching up. My gun was naked in my hand, a heavy weight of reasurrance that was making my fingers cramp. If I didn't hide and put it away soon I would be unable to shoot. My legs ached just as my hands did, and surprisingly, so did my heart. I couldn't believe I was running away from a monster, I never run. Perhaps I wasn't as much of a sociopath as I thought I was, that thought made me stop running. My gun seemed so heavy now. Reluctantly I put it away, clenching and unclenching my fist.

As I watched my hand with a frown a sound behind me caught my attention, my heart in my throat. Turning I looked for the thing that was following me, and I found it. A small dark haired woman with pale skin and dark eyes stood there, staring at me with her gun pointed squarely at my chest. If I went for my gun now I would be too slow and I would lose, but atleast I would know who was better. I saw her let out her breath, her body going still as she sighted down the barrell of the gun. The brief explosion of light and then impact. I was on my back staring up at the night sky, struggling for breath. Her face came into view like a dark forboding angel, and all I could was stare into her dark eyes as the last explosion caught me in the forehead.

I was floating in darkness, my body free and empty of everything. I saw a light to the right of me and turned, I think, my head. It was Sigmund, Anita's stuffed penguin. He was different somehow, it could've been the fact that he was dancing. Dancing Sigmund? I woke suddenly, my heart beating in my chest like a caged bird, sweat covering my body. Taking a minute to collect myself I took in a deep breath and looked to my left, staring at the back of Donna's head. Smiling lightly I turned onto my side and cuddled up with her, sharing her warmth which I so desperately craved for. Nuzzling the back of her neck I sighed gently and opened my eyes, looking at the bedside table. Blinking a few times I thought I was still dreaming, I was not seeing what was sitting infront of me.

Cheerfully sitting on the bedside table was Sigmund, blood soaked and accompanied by a lock of blood stained dark curly hair. What have I done?

~Fin

Story numbero two: Unforgiven.
Rating: PG13.
Characters: Jean Claude, Asher and Julianna.
Original Characters: None.
Storyline: Just my version of what happened when Asher was tortured and Julianna was burned as a witch. I won't make things too gruesome though xd

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They were both screaming so loud his mind ached. Sitting on the boat he longed for a miracle and hoped it would hurry, he had to save them. Slender pale hands ran down the ruffled front of his shirt, a nervous gesture if there ever was one. Dark hair fell over his shoulders in sharp contrast to the silken white shirt, his eyes aflame with anger and longing. He had never been this nervous, and it would probably disgust many who knew him as the suave aristocrat he portrayed himself to be.

He could feel the heat licking at his skin and the fear that slithered through Juilanna's body. She was so scared. His eyes filled with unshed tears and he decided it was enough. Rising from his seat as though he had been pulled by strings he ran as far and as fast as he was able to on the boats deck before lifting off. He didn't care if any of the humans saw him, he could live with it. His body was air-born for what seemed like hours and he eventually landed on the shore. His body trembled with anxiety and anger, his friends were being killed as he stood there.

He ran as fast as he could through the town, searching with more than just his eyes. Asher was nearby, and he could be saved. Which is what Jean Claude would do. The dark haired vampire walked into the old run down warehouse and found them in the basement. Seven church-goers surrounding a man who was on his knees, golden hair falling infront of his face. Three of them held vials of holy water above that immobile body, a drip hitting his skin in unison. Watching them drove Jean Claude mad and his arms trembled with the need to kill them, his love for both the golden haired man and the woman blinding him in hate. Those who were just watching looked over to find him, a look of confusion etching along their features before they each approached him.

The first went down easily, as did the second, third and fourth. The three who had been surrounding the man had stepped away, each holding their vials like their lives depended on it, and perhaps they did. One vial flew past his head and he ducked, then another. One vial left, that made him smirk with a knowing so dark it made his pale body shiver. The two who were now unarmed both launched themselves at him, and he threw them both like rag dolls. Except these rag dolls could bleed. The lone man stood there, shaking with fear as he glanced from one vampire to the next, dropping to his kness, begging. Jean Claude laughed, a dark joyous laugh that sent shivers down the spine.

"Please, stand. You will recieve mercy" Jean claudes accent was still thick with his native language.

The man stood, still shaking and clutching to his holy water. He made the biggest mistake and looked Jean Claude in the eyes. His body stilled and made no move to back away as the dark haired vampire moved towards him in a dark cloud of his anger. He glanced at the other man and his anger ceased, the way in which the golden haired man had fallen made tears run down his pale cheeks. Turning back to the man he put a hand at the back of his neck and tilted his head, his lips drawn back to reveal fangs. The mans body sagged slightly as his fangs entered his flesh but he remained silent and still, his blood leaving his body and puring down a pale slender throat. Once Jean Claude had his fill he deepened his fangs, embedding them further into the mans throat. With a quick pull of Jean Claudes head he sliced the mans jugular vein in two and pulled away. The man remained silent even as he dropped to his knees and bled.

His deep blue eyes travelled back over to the other man. Kneeling beside him he touched him tentively and his eyes fluttered, pale blue eyes looking up at him. It wasn't until then Asher started screaming again.

'Teardrops and Roses' continued:

It had only been five minutes and already she was heading towards the bathroom. I could have followed, but I didn't. I owed it to the old man opposite to tell him what was going to have to happen.

"Excuse me sir?" I asked in my most polite yet charming voice.
"Yes? What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy?" His voice hadn't stopped annoying me since I'd got on the damn plane.
"Not as busy as I could be with your wife" My voice held that edge of anger to it, and it certainly got his attention.
"How dare you...." He slowly started to rise form his seat, he was obviously used to using his height to over-power people. That was probably how he got his wife to marry him in the first place. I stood before him and had to tilt my head so I didn't headbutt the ceiling above me. I'm a tall guy, 6"5 maybe a little more since the last time I checked - and used to getting my way too.
"I am not baiting you, so sit your a** down in that chair grandpa" He sat down, smart man.
"Right, now that I have your attention..." I sat down too, no point getting a neck ache huh?
"Your wife is obviously bored with you, and I can understand why" I held my hand up to stop him talking. "I'm just saying what I see, nothing else. You are way too interested in your stocks, and your business. She doesn't want to hear any of that, she just wants to have a nice romantic conversation with her husband. I suggest you go into the bathroom and make love to your wife like you were twenty again, it's what she wants if she wanted me to do it for you"
His face had grown red and a vein was threatening to explode in his forehead, but the more I talked the calmer he seemed to become. Once I had finished he sat in his chair blinking his beady little eyes at me, trying to decipher what I was saying.
Sighing I leaned forward, lowering my voice so only he could hear. "Either you do it, or I will. Your choice" And with that I leant back in my seat.
He stood like I knew he would and gave me one last glare before dissappearing in the direction of the bathroom.

I spent the rest of my plane ride wondering how the hell a man like him married a woman like her, ah well, I'd never have to worry about that. My wife would be as good looking as me, I'm sure of it because I'd take nothing less.

Story numero three continued (finally xd ): Midnight Blue
You know the rest whee


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As I walked the streets with my hands plunged deep inside my pockets, I listened to my heart beat, the clicking of my shoes on the pavement and the faint growling that occured out of nowhere. I was obviously being followed, any moron could see that. Any moron would just think I was being followed by a hungry, homeless mutt after someone to harrass into getting food. No, it certainly wasn't a homeless dog on the prowl, this dog had a home, name, job, perhaps even a wife and kids. The growl was low and gutteral, one that was drawn from deep inside the chest that was normally used to threaten or warn whatever had crossed its terrirtory. I knew all of this because I too could growl like that.

I had discarded my bags at the hotel and changed into my night clothes which consisted of a dark, midnight blue shirt which emphasised my natural blue highlights, washed out black jeans and leather boots with complicated spiderweb straps running up the sides. Although my dress sense was somewhat of an odd mixture, I still looked damn good. I knew this because I was getting heated glances, small smirks and whispers as I passed. Of course, I could hear everything they said about me. It made me smile from behind my coat.

The club which I was drawn to looked like a circus, although an "exotic" circus to say the least, it still intruiged me. The neon sign and posters depicted vampires, naga's and necromancers; I had heard that the local necromancer was actually shacking up with the master fanged one. Such an interesting little world we live in. The one thing that would make it even more interesting would be the day when I couldn't charm a woman into bed, or ask her for her phone number even before I'd said hello. A faint thrum of music vibrated around me as I started up the steps, the large overly muscled vampire bouncer looked me over as I went past. Idiot. I hate it when people do that - looking at me as though they know me. They have no ******** clue. I left my thoughts on the threshold before I was enveloped in thundering music and the sickening scent of cotton candy.