To Oldavia Greyhue, who believes.
Zitat von cyrus am 9 Mai, 2006, 0606 UhrI posted this at the insisting of a friend of mine who would not shut up about how I NEEDED to post it.
And so here it is, page one.
The man pressed another cigarette to his lips and took a deep, long, drag. He closed his eyes and through half parted lids gazed at the ceiling above, exhaling a long plume of grey blue smoke. The hand holding the cigarette came down to caress the arm of the ancient and dirty sofa he had come to rest on, exploring it’s rough texture, some parts of the fabric worn away to smooth underlying threads. His other hand then, began tracing the figure laying across his lap, deep in slumber.
He looked down and tilted his head slightly to the side, an inquisitive gesture, yet nonetheless menacing due to his piercing grey eyes. His long and slender fingers caressed the woman’s bare knee, while his eyes moved farther up; her skirt had ridden up to just beneath her crotch. And so he followed the slender, seductive curves with one hand, watching her breathing quicken and the corners of her lips form a slight, pleasant smile of desire. His hand moved forward then, the tips of his long, smooth fingers gracing the inside of her thigh, moving upwards to that hot place between her legs, the woman uttered a slight sound of surprise, yet her eyes remained closed, and, as he had ceased moving his hand, she had fallen back asleep, his hand cool and still between her thighs. His left hand came away from the arm of the sofa to take another deep drag from his cigarette. He paused for a moment to release more smoke into the room, then crushed the cigarette out in his hands, the burning sensation making him shudder for only a moment before he casually flicked the crumpled mess away into one of the dark corners of the room and then returned his attention to the woman.He had met her in a nightclub, as was his usual way of meeting women. She, of course, had approached him, as they always did. He was not vain, but knew that he made an imposing and attractive figure and that was why they came to him. He was not tall, just under six feet, yet had the broad shoulders and well shaped body that would make even the seemingly perfect statues of the ancient Greeks weep with envy. Even his face had the features that seemed almost to be carved from the very goddess of beauty herself. Though his skin was fair, and nearly flawless, he had eyes that seemed to hint at some Eastern ancestry, slightly almond in shape, and with long, dark lashes outlining seemingly impossibly grey eyes. Yet despite the ancestry that was held in his gaze, the rest of his features seemed almost sharp, his nose was straight and almost aquiline, seeming almost Roman, while his lips, near perfect in their fullness and smoothness, could form into smiles to melt any woman’s heart. This woman, who had undoubtedly been watching him from afar for over an hour had come to him, offered to buy him a drink. He had, of course, denied the offer, and had bought one for her instead, watching her eye his wallet, so full of twenties and fifty dollars bills as he paid the bartender. She sat with him, flirting, leaning forward as she spoke to him, flaunting her ample bosom, offering to light his cigarette, her hands carefully creeping up his thighs, trying to seduce him. He knew within the first few moments of meeting her, that she was more than likely a thief of some sort, some poor woman who seduced rich men in order to steal the money out of their wallets after a night of hot drunken passion. He let her believe she had been seducing him, meanwhile, continuously filling her drink. And as the night wore on, be gave in to her playful insisting that he join her at her place after the club had closed, swearing that she was much too drunk to drive herself home, a blatant lie, he knew, for her eyes were clear and sharp despite the slurred words and clumsiness she had put on. He allowed her to believe he was interested in her nevertheless, and walked with her to her home only a few blocks away and once inside her dirty and darkly lit apartment, she began to tease him further, running her hands in between the buttons of his dark silk shirt, feeling the muscles beneath, and as he watched, the more she looked at him, the more she was becoming actually entranced with him. He let her, and encouraged her. They had not been in her apartment for even an hour before he had pulled her to the floor, passionately making love to her. Afterwards, with the scent of sweat and sex still lingering in the air, he had taken her to the sofa, where they now both rested, she told him in a tired voice that she loved him, and he laughed softly to himself, watching her dark curls fall over her closed eyelids as she fell asleep.
Now as she lay sleeping he cradled her upper body with his left hand, his right still in place between her legs. He slowly lifted her head towards him, and as he did so her eyes opened slowly, gazing into his. His hand began gently working the area beneath her skirt and she gasped and her arms embraced him behind his neck, drawing her lips to his. They kissed, deeply, passionately, and she again told him she loved him, tears in her eyes. He kissed her tears away, and she began moan, his hand was working faster now, fingers plunging inside the warm and wet forbidden darkness. His kisses traveled down from the corners of her eyes, to her soft and moist cheeks, and then he buried his face in her hair by her throat, breathing deeply of the scent of flowers and smoke and of sweat and booze. He could hear her breathing faster now and she released her grip on his neck, her arms going down, her hands pressing his against her. Her back arched, she moaned. His lips parted against her supple neck, and as she climaxed in his arms, he plunged his fangs deep into her tender throat.
I posted this at the insisting of a friend of mine who would not shut up about how I NEEDED to post it.
And so here it is, page one.
The man pressed another cigarette to his lips and took a deep, long, drag. He closed his eyes and through half parted lids gazed at the ceiling above, exhaling a long plume of grey blue smoke. The hand holding the cigarette came down to caress the arm of the ancient and dirty sofa he had come to rest on, exploring it’s rough texture, some parts of the fabric worn away to smooth underlying threads. His other hand then, began tracing the figure laying across his lap, deep in slumber.
He looked down and tilted his head slightly to the side, an inquisitive gesture, yet nonetheless menacing due to his piercing grey eyes. His long and slender fingers caressed the woman’s bare knee, while his eyes moved farther up; her skirt had ridden up to just beneath her crotch. And so he followed the slender, seductive curves with one hand, watching her breathing quicken and the corners of her lips form a slight, pleasant smile of desire. His hand moved forward then, the tips of his long, smooth fingers gracing the inside of her thigh, moving upwards to that hot place between her legs, the woman uttered a slight sound of surprise, yet her eyes remained closed, and, as he had ceased moving his hand, she had fallen back asleep, his hand cool and still between her thighs. His left hand came away from the arm of the sofa to take another deep drag from his cigarette. He paused for a moment to release more smoke into the room, then crushed the cigarette out in his hands, the burning sensation making him shudder for only a moment before he casually flicked the crumpled mess away into one of the dark corners of the room and then returned his attention to the woman.
He had met her in a nightclub, as was his usual way of meeting women. She, of course, had approached him, as they always did. He was not vain, but knew that he made an imposing and attractive figure and that was why they came to him. He was not tall, just under six feet, yet had the broad shoulders and well shaped body that would make even the seemingly perfect statues of the ancient Greeks weep with envy. Even his face had the features that seemed almost to be carved from the very goddess of beauty herself. Though his skin was fair, and nearly flawless, he had eyes that seemed to hint at some Eastern ancestry, slightly almond in shape, and with long, dark lashes outlining seemingly impossibly grey eyes. Yet despite the ancestry that was held in his gaze, the rest of his features seemed almost sharp, his nose was straight and almost aquiline, seeming almost Roman, while his lips, near perfect in their fullness and smoothness, could form into smiles to melt any woman’s heart. This woman, who had undoubtedly been watching him from afar for over an hour had come to him, offered to buy him a drink. He had, of course, denied the offer, and had bought one for her instead, watching her eye his wallet, so full of twenties and fifty dollars bills as he paid the bartender. She sat with him, flirting, leaning forward as she spoke to him, flaunting her ample bosom, offering to light his cigarette, her hands carefully creeping up his thighs, trying to seduce him. He knew within the first few moments of meeting her, that she was more than likely a thief of some sort, some poor woman who seduced rich men in order to steal the money out of their wallets after a night of hot drunken passion. He let her believe she had been seducing him, meanwhile, continuously filling her drink. And as the night wore on, be gave in to her playful insisting that he join her at her place after the club had closed, swearing that she was much too drunk to drive herself home, a blatant lie, he knew, for her eyes were clear and sharp despite the slurred words and clumsiness she had put on. He allowed her to believe he was interested in her nevertheless, and walked with her to her home only a few blocks away and once inside her dirty and darkly lit apartment, she began to tease him further, running her hands in between the buttons of his dark silk shirt, feeling the muscles beneath, and as he watched, the more she looked at him, the more she was becoming actually entranced with him. He let her, and encouraged her. They had not been in her apartment for even an hour before he had pulled her to the floor, passionately making love to her. Afterwards, with the scent of sweat and sex still lingering in the air, he had taken her to the sofa, where they now both rested, she told him in a tired voice that she loved him, and he laughed softly to himself, watching her dark curls fall over her closed eyelids as she fell asleep.
Now as she lay sleeping he cradled her upper body with his left hand, his right still in place between her legs. He slowly lifted her head towards him, and as he did so her eyes opened slowly, gazing into his. His hand began gently working the area beneath her skirt and she gasped and her arms embraced him behind his neck, drawing her lips to his. They kissed, deeply, passionately, and she again told him she loved him, tears in her eyes. He kissed her tears away, and she began moan, his hand was working faster now, fingers plunging inside the warm and wet forbidden darkness. His kisses traveled down from the corners of her eyes, to her soft and moist cheeks, and then he buried his face in her hair by her throat, breathing deeply of the scent of flowers and smoke and of sweat and booze. He could hear her breathing faster now and she released her grip on his neck, her arms going down, her hands pressing his against her. Her back arched, she moaned. His lips parted against her supple neck, and as she climaxed in his arms, he plunged his fangs deep into her tender throat.
Zitat von navre am 9 Mai, 2006, 1231 UhrI would Gather you will soon find other insisting you post the next page in this endour. My congradulations...
I would Gather you will soon find other insisting you post the next page in this endour. My congradulations...
Zitat von cyrus am 9 Mai, 2006, 1457 UhrThank you for your kind words!
I'll be honest, I wasn't sure what kind of response I would receive, kept my fingers crossed that I wouldn't find a post saying "your story is excessivly pornographic and you suck as a writer." lol
Thank you for your kind words!
I'll be honest, I wasn't sure what kind of response I would receive, kept my fingers crossed that I wouldn't find a post saying "your story is excessivly pornographic and you suck as a writer." lol
Zitat von maestro am 9 Mai, 2006, 1535 Uhrexcessively pornographic is a phrase that's unknown to us i guess :)
it's cool, but since i'm more the visual type that keeps his literary comments for himself i thought i'd give it equal treatment: i love everything posted on the boards - besides of the content of the "scum" forum ;)
excessively pornographic is a phrase that's unknown to us i guess :)
it's cool, but since i'm more the visual type that keeps his literary comments for himself i thought i'd give it equal treatment: i love everything posted on the boards - besides of the content of the "scum" forum ;)
Zitat von oldavia_greyhue am 11 Mai, 2006, 0904 Uhr:twisted: My dearest Cyrus,
Such delicate style, such scrumptious details!
Why I can hardly wait for the next scene. Who is this whore and the name of your sly character ?
Excellent writting ! Have you considered publishing any of your works ? I will be the first to buy a book and let me know if you want anything illustrated !
Love your ardently waiting Oldavia Greyhue !
bites , nibbles, and licks
:twisted: My dearest Cyrus,
Such delicate style, such scrumptious details!
Why I can hardly wait for the next scene. Who is this whore and the name of your sly character ?
Excellent writting ! Have you considered publishing any of your works ? I will be the first to buy a book and let me know if you want anything illustrated !
Love your ardently waiting Oldavia Greyhue !
bites , nibbles, and licks
Zitat von cyrus am 11 Mai, 2006, 1057 UhrI'm glad you've taken a liking to it! I can only hope that the rest of what I lay out will be to your tastes as well. *whew!* Page two is now under renovation, so to speak, I am fairly comforable with the first half so far. And, thanks to your constant prodding, here it is:
An hour later and he found himself resting against the cool brick of a building where only moments before, a woman had declared her love to him. That woman was dead now, her lifeblood stolen in an exchange for passion which was as old as time itself. While he reminisced about the sound of her voice, the beat of her heart and the hot, ever so potent taste of blood, he stared up into a sky blotted with falling snow, feeling the large white flakes melt against his skin which was now flushed with renewed life. Gazing heavenwards into the storm above he felt slightly dizzy, the cascading whiteness creating the illusion of moving upwards into oblivion. He could have stayed in that position for hours, for his body was not human and prone to the inconveniences of stiff muscles. However, his keen ears caught the footsteps of a few people walking towards him and to avoid looking noticeable he dropped his gaze and began walking down the cracked, icy, sidewalk, away from the building and away from the corpse of the woman who in her last moments, believed she had finally found love.
He followed the sidewalk for some distance, walking out of the slums of the city and into the more maintained streets lit softly by street lamps along the way. The snow continued to fall around him, coating the roads and structures in a blanket of gentle silence. There was virtually no traffic or people at this time of night and the quiet satisfied him greatly. He continued walking, becoming almost hypnotized by the repetitive sounds of his feet crunching through snow and of the nearly inaudible sound of snowflakes hitting the ground around him of which he alone could hear. It seemed to him that he could continue walking this way for nearly and eternity, alone, and in silence, when his peace was suddenly shattered by the loud voice of a man across the street to his left followed by the sound of something large and heavy making a muted thud as it hit the snow coated pavement in the direction from which the voice had come from.
I'm glad you've taken a liking to it! I can only hope that the rest of what I lay out will be to your tastes as well. *whew!* Page two is now under renovation, so to speak, I am fairly comforable with the first half so far. And, thanks to your constant prodding, here it is:
An hour later and he found himself resting against the cool brick of a building where only moments before, a woman had declared her love to him. That woman was dead now, her lifeblood stolen in an exchange for passion which was as old as time itself. While he reminisced about the sound of her voice, the beat of her heart and the hot, ever so potent taste of blood, he stared up into a sky blotted with falling snow, feeling the large white flakes melt against his skin which was now flushed with renewed life. Gazing heavenwards into the storm above he felt slightly dizzy, the cascading whiteness creating the illusion of moving upwards into oblivion. He could have stayed in that position for hours, for his body was not human and prone to the inconveniences of stiff muscles. However, his keen ears caught the footsteps of a few people walking towards him and to avoid looking noticeable he dropped his gaze and began walking down the cracked, icy, sidewalk, away from the building and away from the corpse of the woman who in her last moments, believed she had finally found love.
He followed the sidewalk for some distance, walking out of the slums of the city and into the more maintained streets lit softly by street lamps along the way. The snow continued to fall around him, coating the roads and structures in a blanket of gentle silence. There was virtually no traffic or people at this time of night and the quiet satisfied him greatly. He continued walking, becoming almost hypnotized by the repetitive sounds of his feet crunching through snow and of the nearly inaudible sound of snowflakes hitting the ground around him of which he alone could hear. It seemed to him that he could continue walking this way for nearly and eternity, alone, and in silence, when his peace was suddenly shattered by the loud voice of a man across the street to his left followed by the sound of something large and heavy making a muted thud as it hit the snow coated pavement in the direction from which the voice had come from.
Zitat von insidedistuo am 12 Mai, 2006, 0305 UhrYour writing is great, and I can't wait to hear the rest...
you are very talented.
IO
Your writing is great, and I can't wait to hear the rest...
you are very talented.
IO
Zitat von cyrus am 12 Mai, 2006, 1311 Uhrwhy thank you! I will posting the second half of the first page very soon, in about a day or so. I didn't have to work tonight and so I hunkered down in front of the computer after work last night to write for a few. And now it is getting quite late for me, I've been awake for nearly 20 hours! time for me to go to bed!
why thank you! I will posting the second half of the first page very soon, in about a day or so. I didn't have to work tonight and so I hunkered down in front of the computer after work last night to write for a few. And now it is getting quite late for me, I've been awake for nearly 20 hours! time for me to go to bed!
Zitat von cyrus am 16 Mai, 2006, 0309 UhrTo my readers,
I apologize that it took me so long to post this part, it's just not as interesting, I know, I know, as the part above it, but I promise you that it was all needed to set up the characters! All of this was so hard to write too and it's not even that important *sigh*. Well, once again, thanks to all how at least take the time to read, lol.
“Look out!â€
Caught unawares, his head jerked to the side to see who had called out and was amused to find that the voice was not directed towards him, but to another man unloading a large white semi-truck just in front of the local art museum. Lying in the snow was a large picture frame wrapped in canvas. A very flustered looking young man with dirty blonde hair was peering out of the back of the truck, his face wearing a very obvious expression of concern.
“Aw, shit.†muttered the young man, leaping out of the back of the truck only to slip and fall in the ever growing layer of snow accumulating over the sidewalk. As he tried desperately to recover, a stout, bald, and red faced man wearing a pale yellow jumpsuit stormed forward towards him from around the other side of the vehicle all the while yelling a profuse array of curses. From his voice, it was apparent that this was the man who had originally called out the warning. He reached the younger man and pulled him roughly to his feet by the arm.
“Jesus Christ, Jon! You have got to be the clumsiest bit of shit I’ve ever worked with!â€
The man named Jon dusted the snow off his matching yellow jumpsuit, obviously embarrassed and trying to avoid the menacing gaze of his angry coworker while he muttered his defense.
“Damnit, look, it’s slippery up on that platform up there! I’m trying to be careful--â€The stout man glared at Jon and interrupted his excuses.
“Don’t, tell me that it’s slippery!†he growled, his face getting redder by the moment. “Any damned idiot can just know it’s going to be slippery! That’s not the point, the point is that you should have already known that it’s slick up there and should have been even more careful not to drop things off the fucking truck! Do you know how much shit we are going to be in if this thing is damaged? Do you know how much something like this is probably worth? Now get on the other side and help me lift this thing! Christ, I hope for your sake it’s not ruined, it’ll be your job if it is. Dumb fucking kid.â€Jon and the irate man went to either side of the picture and began lifting it from the snow. It was obviously no easy task, for the frame had to of been easily five feet across and nearly two feet high, and nature was not intending for it to get any easier for just as they had lifted it up into a vertical position, a strong winter breeze developed, blowing the flat surface like a sail, forcing the two men to struggle to hold it upright with the canvas billowing out around the frame and whipping wildly in the wind and into their faces where it had not been tied down.
The grey eyes of the man watching them sparkled with amusement as he watched the clumsy actions of the two. Across the street, the two gentlemen were now fighting with all their strength to hold the painting in an upright manner, and just as it seemed that mother nature was to have her way with things and the painting seemed doomed to earth again, a tiny young woman came rushing from out of the museum doors, her red hair flying behind her like wild flames in defiance of the cold wind and snow. She immediately came to the aid the men, grasping the painting from the bottom and shouting for Jon and his coworker to flip it flat otherwise they would drop it again for certain. The three of them fought with the frame for a short moment until it was parallel with the ground and wind could claim it no longer. Then, they all walked slowly up the stairs towards the large glass doors leading into the great building. Once before them the young woman spoke more instructions to the two men and she released her side of the picture so that they could turn it upright in order for it to fit through the entryway. It was at that moment that the woman turned around and unknowingly facing in the direction of her observer, she used the wind and her left hand to assist her in brushing away her mass of curly red hair away from her face .
What he saw made his eyes go wide in sudden disbelief. He took a few steps forwards, holding himself back with just the smallest bit of self restraint. Everything about her seemed so eerily familiar to him. Her face was incredibly lovely with delicate, soft, features that were nearly as doll-like in their simple beauty as a porcelain doll, with full, and pouting lips that were evermore the crimson against the fairness of her skin and the pristine whiteness of the snow surrounding her. His heart was pounding within his chest so strongly that he brought his right hand up to grasp the collar of his long grey coat in order to control the sudden trembling that had over taken his body. He shook his head from side to side to aid him in quickly clearing his thoughts and to regain what was left of his composure.
Yet the woman across the street, seemed to have seen him as well, and seeming to have sensed that something was not right, she tilted her head slightly to the side, squinting through the falling snow to try and see him more clearly. He realized that having been standing for so long watching the scene unfold before him he had made himself extremely vulnerable to being seen, and if anything, rather suspicious. He had most definitely made an error of judgment. However, that woman, as he gazed at her, to his amazement, her face suddenly changed from an expression of suspicion to that of surprise as she seemed to recognize him as well.
‘Impossible.’ he thought bitterly, suddenly angry that his mind which had always been so quick and trustworthy was unexpectedly creating illusions for him.
He drew a deep breath into his lungs and exhaled an irritated white plume into the cold air around him, then, relaxing his grip on his collar, he let his hand return to his side while turning himself back to the sidewalk to break his gaze with the woman who had been the cause of his sudden discomfort. Yet despite his outwards appearance of calm he walked hurriedly, his previous bliss of moments before completely forgotten. He made his way to where the street he had been wandering along intersected another and turned the corner around a tall building to his right. Again and again he tried to dash away all thoughts of what had just happened, but the woman’s image, however, seemed burned into his mind. Yet it was not just her remarkable beauty that haunted him, there was something more. There seemed to be something that he had forgotten in the past that was gradually making it’s way to the surface of his memories even though he fought rather instinctively to force them back down into darkness where they had originated from. He was a creature that could represent time itself though time had long since left him behind, and his ancient memories; a jumbled mass of images that he no longer bothered to sort through, had not held interest to him until now. He had this burning sense of knowing that somewhere he had seen this woman before, though, he could not place why that fact should disturb him so. He tried to convince himself that it was impossible that this woman should possibly mean anything him at all. He was troubled at his own reaction to a creature so much weaker than himself, yet his emotions continued to plague him. Then, even more troubling, though hardly surprising, was the sound of footsteps far behind running towards him followed by a voice.“Wait!†cried the voice. It was sweet, so polite and feminine. He tried to ignore it, but despite the fact that he was perfectly capable of outrunning his pursuer he found himself unable to do anything but keep walking at the same brisk pace. He listened to the sound of feet hitting the pavement some distance away become louder with every passing moment. He tried to convince himself that eventually his follower would give up, they would simply stop and walk away, for what insane person would ever follow him through a winter storm in the early morning hours? Yet, despite what he tried to tell himself he knew that within his heart he wanted nothing more than to hear that voice again, and he was soon not disappointed, as he could also hear that the person following him had turned the corner and was close, undoubtedly they could see him very clearly now.
“Wait!†the voice called out again. “I need to ask you something, please just wait!â€
Her voice held the slightest tremble to it, perhaps out of sheer exertion, perhaps from the cold winter air. He wondered what in the world she was going to do now that she could see him, though he was even more resolved than ever to continue walking. She kept calling out, and as he continued to ignore her, every word she spoke became slightly more desperate, slightly more worried, until finally, when she must have been only a few feet away she urgently shouted one last time.“Julius!â€
He froze in his tracks, stunned. How long had it been since he had heard that name, his name, especially from the lips of a mortal creature? And how could she have known? And then without warning, against his will, from the depths of his consciousness a single memory which had been lost in time rose up suddenly from the distant past, the force of which was so powerful his heart beat fast once again.
“ Ah, of course, of course. . .†he thought, though an intense sadness filled his entire being.
He closed eyes calmly, tilting his head back so that once again he could feel the icy droplets from above fall against his eyelids. All the memories that he had fought back for so long since he had set eyes upon that girl finally broke to the surface and images centuries old played out within his mind. Most cherished of all was the face of woman, now long dead, whose brilliant red hair he had once stroked with the greatest of fascination, whose soft ivory skin he had worshipped with his every being, and who he had once, centuries ago, given his mortal life for. He opened his eyes slowly as the soft footfalls of the girl came to halt just behind him. Her voice spoke, but her tone had changed to something rather soft and frightened though her words were at first intermingled into his memories, sending chills through his body as he brought himself painstakingly back to present time. For an age it seemed he stood in still silence as the reminiscences of the past slowly lost their vividness and he was able to think clearly once more. His lips parted slightly as he drew a breath between them and as his eyes closed again so that he could catch one last fleeting glimpse of the woman he had once loved behind them, he breathed a word that he had forbidden himself to speak nearly two centuries ago.
“Ah, Pamina. . .â€
To my readers,
I apologize that it took me so long to post this part, it's just not as interesting, I know, I know, as the part above it, but I promise you that it was all needed to set up the characters! All of this was so hard to write too and it's not even that important *sigh*. Well, once again, thanks to all how at least take the time to read, lol.
“Look out!â€
Caught unawares, his head jerked to the side to see who had called out and was amused to find that the voice was not directed towards him, but to another man unloading a large white semi-truck just in front of the local art museum. Lying in the snow was a large picture frame wrapped in canvas. A very flustered looking young man with dirty blonde hair was peering out of the back of the truck, his face wearing a very obvious expression of concern.
“Aw, shit.†muttered the young man, leaping out of the back of the truck only to slip and fall in the ever growing layer of snow accumulating over the sidewalk. As he tried desperately to recover, a stout, bald, and red faced man wearing a pale yellow jumpsuit stormed forward towards him from around the other side of the vehicle all the while yelling a profuse array of curses. From his voice, it was apparent that this was the man who had originally called out the warning. He reached the younger man and pulled him roughly to his feet by the arm.
“Jesus Christ, Jon! You have got to be the clumsiest bit of shit I’ve ever worked with!â€
The man named Jon dusted the snow off his matching yellow jumpsuit, obviously embarrassed and trying to avoid the menacing gaze of his angry coworker while he muttered his defense.
“Damnit, look, it’s slippery up on that platform up there! I’m trying to be careful--â€
The stout man glared at Jon and interrupted his excuses.
“Don’t, tell me that it’s slippery!†he growled, his face getting redder by the moment. “Any damned idiot can just know it’s going to be slippery! That’s not the point, the point is that you should have already known that it’s slick up there and should have been even more careful not to drop things off the fucking truck! Do you know how much shit we are going to be in if this thing is damaged? Do you know how much something like this is probably worth? Now get on the other side and help me lift this thing! Christ, I hope for your sake it’s not ruined, it’ll be your job if it is. Dumb fucking kid.â€
Jon and the irate man went to either side of the picture and began lifting it from the snow. It was obviously no easy task, for the frame had to of been easily five feet across and nearly two feet high, and nature was not intending for it to get any easier for just as they had lifted it up into a vertical position, a strong winter breeze developed, blowing the flat surface like a sail, forcing the two men to struggle to hold it upright with the canvas billowing out around the frame and whipping wildly in the wind and into their faces where it had not been tied down.
The grey eyes of the man watching them sparkled with amusement as he watched the clumsy actions of the two. Across the street, the two gentlemen were now fighting with all their strength to hold the painting in an upright manner, and just as it seemed that mother nature was to have her way with things and the painting seemed doomed to earth again, a tiny young woman came rushing from out of the museum doors, her red hair flying behind her like wild flames in defiance of the cold wind and snow. She immediately came to the aid the men, grasping the painting from the bottom and shouting for Jon and his coworker to flip it flat otherwise they would drop it again for certain. The three of them fought with the frame for a short moment until it was parallel with the ground and wind could claim it no longer. Then, they all walked slowly up the stairs towards the large glass doors leading into the great building. Once before them the young woman spoke more instructions to the two men and she released her side of the picture so that they could turn it upright in order for it to fit through the entryway. It was at that moment that the woman turned around and unknowingly facing in the direction of her observer, she used the wind and her left hand to assist her in brushing away her mass of curly red hair away from her face .
What he saw made his eyes go wide in sudden disbelief. He took a few steps forwards, holding himself back with just the smallest bit of self restraint. Everything about her seemed so eerily familiar to him. Her face was incredibly lovely with delicate, soft, features that were nearly as doll-like in their simple beauty as a porcelain doll, with full, and pouting lips that were evermore the crimson against the fairness of her skin and the pristine whiteness of the snow surrounding her. His heart was pounding within his chest so strongly that he brought his right hand up to grasp the collar of his long grey coat in order to control the sudden trembling that had over taken his body. He shook his head from side to side to aid him in quickly clearing his thoughts and to regain what was left of his composure.
Yet the woman across the street, seemed to have seen him as well, and seeming to have sensed that something was not right, she tilted her head slightly to the side, squinting through the falling snow to try and see him more clearly. He realized that having been standing for so long watching the scene unfold before him he had made himself extremely vulnerable to being seen, and if anything, rather suspicious. He had most definitely made an error of judgment. However, that woman, as he gazed at her, to his amazement, her face suddenly changed from an expression of suspicion to that of surprise as she seemed to recognize him as well.
‘Impossible.’ he thought bitterly, suddenly angry that his mind which had always been so quick and trustworthy was unexpectedly creating illusions for him.
He drew a deep breath into his lungs and exhaled an irritated white plume into the cold air around him, then, relaxing his grip on his collar, he let his hand return to his side while turning himself back to the sidewalk to break his gaze with the woman who had been the cause of his sudden discomfort. Yet despite his outwards appearance of calm he walked hurriedly, his previous bliss of moments before completely forgotten. He made his way to where the street he had been wandering along intersected another and turned the corner around a tall building to his right. Again and again he tried to dash away all thoughts of what had just happened, but the woman’s image, however, seemed burned into his mind. Yet it was not just her remarkable beauty that haunted him, there was something more. There seemed to be something that he had forgotten in the past that was gradually making it’s way to the surface of his memories even though he fought rather instinctively to force them back down into darkness where they had originated from. He was a creature that could represent time itself though time had long since left him behind, and his ancient memories; a jumbled mass of images that he no longer bothered to sort through, had not held interest to him until now. He had this burning sense of knowing that somewhere he had seen this woman before, though, he could not place why that fact should disturb him so. He tried to convince himself that it was impossible that this woman should possibly mean anything him at all. He was troubled at his own reaction to a creature so much weaker than himself, yet his emotions continued to plague him. Then, even more troubling, though hardly surprising, was the sound of footsteps far behind running towards him followed by a voice.
“Wait!†cried the voice. It was sweet, so polite and feminine. He tried to ignore it, but despite the fact that he was perfectly capable of outrunning his pursuer he found himself unable to do anything but keep walking at the same brisk pace. He listened to the sound of feet hitting the pavement some distance away become louder with every passing moment. He tried to convince himself that eventually his follower would give up, they would simply stop and walk away, for what insane person would ever follow him through a winter storm in the early morning hours? Yet, despite what he tried to tell himself he knew that within his heart he wanted nothing more than to hear that voice again, and he was soon not disappointed, as he could also hear that the person following him had turned the corner and was close, undoubtedly they could see him very clearly now.
“Wait!†the voice called out again. “I need to ask you something, please just wait!â€
Her voice held the slightest tremble to it, perhaps out of sheer exertion, perhaps from the cold winter air. He wondered what in the world she was going to do now that she could see him, though he was even more resolved than ever to continue walking. She kept calling out, and as he continued to ignore her, every word she spoke became slightly more desperate, slightly more worried, until finally, when she must have been only a few feet away she urgently shouted one last time.
“Julius!â€
He froze in his tracks, stunned. How long had it been since he had heard that name, his name, especially from the lips of a mortal creature? And how could she have known? And then without warning, against his will, from the depths of his consciousness a single memory which had been lost in time rose up suddenly from the distant past, the force of which was so powerful his heart beat fast once again.
“ Ah, of course, of course. . .†he thought, though an intense sadness filled his entire being.
He closed eyes calmly, tilting his head back so that once again he could feel the icy droplets from above fall against his eyelids. All the memories that he had fought back for so long since he had set eyes upon that girl finally broke to the surface and images centuries old played out within his mind. Most cherished of all was the face of woman, now long dead, whose brilliant red hair he had once stroked with the greatest of fascination, whose soft ivory skin he had worshipped with his every being, and who he had once, centuries ago, given his mortal life for. He opened his eyes slowly as the soft footfalls of the girl came to halt just behind him. Her voice spoke, but her tone had changed to something rather soft and frightened though her words were at first intermingled into his memories, sending chills through his body as he brought himself painstakingly back to present time. For an age it seemed he stood in still silence as the reminiscences of the past slowly lost their vividness and he was able to think clearly once more. His lips parted slightly as he drew a breath between them and as his eyes closed again so that he could catch one last fleeting glimpse of the woman he had once loved behind them, he breathed a word that he had forbidden himself to speak nearly two centuries ago.
“Ah, Pamina. . .â€
Zitat von insidedistuo am 17 Mai, 2006, 0142 UhrCyrus,
Your attention to detail is wonderful!! I feel like I am right there in your story.
:)
I am looking forward to the next piece.
IO
Cyrus,
Your attention to detail is wonderful!! I feel like I am right there in your story.
:)
I am looking forward to the next piece.
IO
Zitat von cyrus am 20 Mai, 2006, 1348 UhrI'm hoping to post fairly soon. I wrote, got irritated, and then deleted a large portion and had to start from scratch, however, I think it will be alot more interesting now, possibly, but this is going to take a little longer than last time to post.
I'm hoping to post fairly soon. I wrote, got irritated, and then deleted a large portion and had to start from scratch, however, I think it will be alot more interesting now, possibly, but this is going to take a little longer than last time to post.
Zitat von dark_child am 20 Mai, 2006, 2353 UhrI love your story!
I love your story!
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