Apologize In Hell

[REVENGE]

Apologize In Hell

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Prologue - Page 1
Chapter 1 - Page 1
Chapter 2 - Page 1
Chapter 3 - Page 1
Chapter 4 - Page 2
Chapter 5 - Page 2
Chapter 6 - Page 2
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Everything in the night has rhythm
Everything moves at its own pace
Why did the night betray me so
Why did it give me so much pain
What is the point in the very end
Knowing not what to expect
Taking foreign hands and fingers
Touching stranger’s necks in the depth of the night
Tell me, is there really a point
Taking life to live
How petty
So take my hand
Then take my life
Burn it to ashes
And you can apologize in hell

Prologue

The moonlight cast shadows in the wake of all that it shined upon in the town of Whisper, keeping untold secrets within its eerie glow. Convicts roamed the dark alleyways, eying the few passerbies with lustful expressions. This was a town of darkness and crime, a town that was left to rot by most and inhabited by few. At least, inhabited by few people with good intentions. Whisper was the new place to go if you’d just escaped prison or were on the run from the law – and it was also the new home of something more terrifying than the most murderous human.

His skin was pale, his hair dark, and his expression entrancing – for that’s exactly what it did, Dear Readers. It entranced people. Lured them into alleyways that even convicts feared only to disappear all together. It kept something alive. The man was soulless – he had no conscious, or at least not one who cared, and he roamed the night with bright lavender eyes. Eyes that hungered for so much more.


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I'm really not sure whether to continue this story or not - it's been so long since I've actually wrote a vampire story with threatening vampires that it would be a challenge. (Though I relish challenges.)

I also wouldn't want to continue this if it would be unread by the people of Miniclip - otherwise, what would the point be, really?

Please tell me what you think - opinions mean everything.

[REVENGE]

Chapter 1

The night speaks – it invites humans outside to play, outside into the open; it invites them out as a favor for those whom it protects. The night sings – it plays a familiar tune to which the humans dance and smile. The night is hypnotic – it entrances humans to serve as life for those whom the night view as more significant. Immortal.

Whisper was a town in which the night’s voice was most heard, most obeyed – where the night was most powerful. During the day, it was a petty place of normality; but when the shadows swallowed all, it became more than a town. It became a tomb. It became a haven for a man with eyes of lavender and a lustful smile – everything within its boundaries became his playing field. And everyone who lived in this place were at his mercy, and his alone.

In the petty town of Whisper, there was no God when night fell upon it – there were no saviors but luck itself – and luck was absent at the house of Rummy, right on the edge of town. That, Dear Reader, is where this story of [b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b][b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b][b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b][b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b]ation begins. Mark Rummy, a mere seven years old, lay sleeping peacefully inside the warmth of his bed. His mother was sleeping deeply after drinking, her snores echoing through the hallway that led to his room. Perhaps if she hadn’t been snoring a very tragic circumstance could have been avoided – of that, we will never be sure of; for it is not that side of the story we follow. No, Dear Reader. We follow the path of tragic circumstance.

Becky Rummy’s snores crept down the hall steadily and consecutively until reaching the ears of her son. Mark’s eyes opened in the groggy fashion of waking from a dream – he sat up in his bed after a few moments, unable to fall back into the depth of sleep due to the continuous snoring. And that’s when he heard it – the whisper that would begin a whirlwind of death, echoing within his mind. Oh, if only he had passed it off as his imagination and shook the whisper away; perhaps the creature outside his window would have moved on to another petty town. Unfortunately, Mark didn’t shake it away. Instead, he embraced it.

Markus… come outside, into the night… come outside, where you’re loved, where you’re wretched mother can’t harm you in her drunken state…we love you, Markus. The night and I – we both have a passion for things like you. Listen to the song of the shadows, listen to the beat it makes… let it enfold you and invite me inside. Invite me inside or come out into the night – for you must choose one Markus. We want to show you our love.

At a mere age of seven, Mark only understood a third of what the voice was asking of him – but he understood enough. Enough or perhaps too much. His shortly cropped blonde hair made no movements as he made his way from his bed to his window, the maroon carpet folding beneath his feet. Mark’s blue eyes looked out into the night and its serenity before opening his window and climbing outside, being as quiet as possible as he did so. The last thing he wanted to do was to wake his mother – the bruises on his arms painfully reminded him of that.

His small toes curled up slightly as they touched the dew on the grass beneath him – as he turned to face his backyard, the voice called to him again. It called to him, telling him of the love it had brought, the love that Mark so longed for. As Mark walked across the dew-covered grass in the direction of the small bunch of trees in the corner of their yard, lavender eyes met his blue. The eyes called to him just as the voice did, asking him to come and receive the love that he deserved, the love that his mother refused to give and the love his father had taken with him a year ago.

Mark went willingly – he walked in search of refuge and in search of hope to the tangle of trees where the voice called to him, where the voice promised something so meaningful, yet so hollowly…

Soon, the lavender eyes were close enough to lock hypnotically with the young boy’s – soon, they were too close – soon, it was too late. The boy’s own blood leaked down his racecar pajamas as the man with the lavender eyes restored his own life – as the man traded one life for another, traded a life he had no business taking. When the deed was done the two holes in the neck of the boy faded and disappeared all together. The following morning, the neighbors would be horrified to find him hanging from the tangle of trees in his own backyard. In the yard where his life had been traded for another.

Frank Iero walked away that night with a smile upon his face, with his lavender eyes shining brightly. But underneath it all, underneath the sweet feeling of life rushing within him, he knew that there was an undying evil to the irony of it all.

An evil that would lead to you hell, where apologies are meaningless.

[REVENGE]

Chapter 2

Angels of the world were never meant to be taken away. Angels were never meant to be seen by mortal eyes in the flesh; they were never meant to be loved with undying passion, and were never meant to give this passion in return. They were merely meant to protect – but what if they fell in love? What if they were seen by mortal eyes in the flesh, they were loved with undying passion, and did return this love? Only the most tragic circumstance that could possibly befall an angel – they lost their wings.

Frank Iero could have told you all of the above and so much more. Not a moment of his [b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b][b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b][b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b][b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b]ed life passed by without memories of her clouding his thoughts – the angel that was never meant to love, but had. As a mortal man in misery she had been sent to protect him from the demons that told him to do such terrible acts; murder, rape, and torture. He had resisted them all during his lifetime, but had realized that his self-control was wavering, and growing steadily thin.

But she had been sent to help him, sent to protect him. Frank could still recall the fateful night when they’d met. His sanity had been held together by sheer strength of will at that point, strength that had lost its power in the end. He had been strolling about the back alleyways of a large city, trying to calm himself, trying to put the thoughts of murderous intentions at bay. For even as a mortal man, evil thoughts had consumed him – it had been the way God, and perhaps the Devil, had made him.



Frank clenched his fists together, trying to maintain self-control as he repeatedly told himself that killing was not the answer – it was not the way out of this evil web of thoughts, not the way out of this deceiving web of lies. As he began doubting his own thoughts, a voice spoke out behind him – a voice that could only be described as soft as moonlight. Frank turned in the alleyway to see a lovely young woman, roughly his own age.

She wore a dress of light blue that shimmered in the street lights as did her eyes of the same color. Her lovely blonde hair, looking almost white from where Frank stood, ran down from her head and past her shoulders in cascades of tranquility – and by the sight of her alone, it was as if all of Frank’s problems were washed away. “Take my hand.” She said.

He stood there dumbstruck, unable to even believe that this woman really existed. Nothing could be so beautiful. She walked closer, smiling as she held out her hand which held a faint glow to it – a glow which Frank assured himself was only a trick of the eye. “Take my hand, Frank. I’m here to help you.” With slight hesitance, he took in a deep breath – and he did as he was asked.



Yes, he had taken her hand and her help – all the vile thoughts had melted away in her presence. The angel’s name had been Elizabeth, he had later learned during one of the many visits they had shared together. But he had fallen in love with the woman of unimaginable beauty that had saved him, in time – and she, him. That’s where the tragedy lay. Within three words that held more pain for Frank Iero than happiness. It had taken place before his own tortured eyes, the fate that befell Elizabeth for expressing her love to him. Her wings had been ripped away – not in the literal sense, for she hadn’t bore wings like that of a birds, but the sense of wings that allowed her to remain on earth and protect people. The wings that allowed her to remain on earth and protect him.

The glow upon her skin had disappeared and the blue within her eyes had faded as she spoke those final words to the only man she had ever truly loved. “I love you.” Elizabeth had fallen limp in Frank’s arms, her soul taken away from earth, her body left to remain. Her skin had grown cold and her hair had lost its luster – she had been sentenced to a death unlike any other.

After she had passed the evil thoughts returned once more – and with a vengeance unmatched in anything ever felt on this earth. Frank had cursed God, cursed the heavens for taking her back, cursed everything that had taken Elizabeth from him. That’s when he had lost his mortality. He turned his back on God and the very thing that had sent the woman he’d loved to him, and had instead embraced all vile thoughts that returned. The hatred within him had formed him into something far from human – and most of all, far from angelic.

He had been born as a vampire that day – the day his angel had been taken away from him. Now, as he wiped Mark Rummy’s blood away from his mouth as he found refuge underneath a local’s house, all of this clouded his thoughts with pain and regret. Forevermore would he be pained by three words that had shaped the fate of so many people.

“I love you.”

[REVENGE]

Chapter 3

The following night Michelle Stone stumbled onto a dark street in Whisper, unable to keep her balance. Tears were running wildly down her pale cheeks – she was still slightly drunk, but that didn’t matter. She still knew exactly what had happened. The drink, the guy, the room with that terribly familiar smell – there was no denying it. Michelle had asked him not to - had begged him not to, even in her drunken state – but to no avail. In the end it had happened regardless - now she was lying on the pavement, sobbing up at the stars.

She’d known it would happen sooner or later, though she wouldn’t admit it. Michelle hadn’t been able to get a job anywhere else, and her little sister Rory was always hungry thanks to her worthless mother. That’s when it had started, really. When the bills had to be paid and Rory was crying because Mommy was gone again and had left them nothing to eat. Michelle had always hated it, the act of being a literal [b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b][b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b][b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b][b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b][b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b]. But how could she help it? She’d gone home to her shabby house only to cry for hours afterwards, praying that there would be a better way, praying that Rory wouldn’t come to the same fate as her when her sister grew older. Rory was seven now; her smile was what kept Michelle going on most days.

Rory would come home with an A on a spelling test or a crayon creation she’d drawn ‘all by herself’ in art, smiling radiantly at her seventeen-year-old sister. Now, however, Michelle was sobbing uncontrollably in the middle of a street, wishing that someone would come run her over with a truck. I didn’t even get any f---ing money from him – how am I going to pay the f---ing bills now? Even her little sister’s smile couldn’t help her now. The humiliation of being raped on top of it all just hit her all too hard. Her brunette hair was spread about her face on the pavement, limiting her vision as she began to beat her fists into the surface beneath her in frustration. Soon, Michelle’s hands were coated with blood, morbidly matching the red shirt that she wore.

The scent of fresh blood caught the attention of Mr. Iero almost immediately. Frank had been skulking about in the yards of locals, looking for someone to sate his thirst. A smile spread about his expression, revealing the menacingly sharp teeth on either side. In only a few minutes he was standing only a few yards from where Michelle lay upon the street. She was still crying – he continued smiling. Yet, as he approached her and stood above her pathetic form as she sobbed, he felt sympathy for someone for the first time in what seemed like eternity. Frank could feel her pain and the misery in which she was trapped – it almost amused him that for once he would actually be putting someone out of their misery instead of putting them in it.

Michelle turned her face in the direction of the man with lavender eyes, not understanding what was going to happen; what always happened; what had to happen… But, then it didn’t happen. Frank had longed to taste the life that flowed within her veins – until he had looked deep into her eyes. Her powder blue eyes. Michelle’s hair was not blonde, her skin did not glow, and yet she held the eyes of Elizabeth perfectly.

Elizabeth…

But it wasn’t Elizabeth at all, only a mere mortal. So why didn’t he strike her? Why didn’t he take what he wanted and then leave her corpse in the street? Because something greater than evil was happening, something greater than all the evil in all the world…

I can feel you all around me
Thickening the air I’m breathing

Michelle found her voice after a few moments and looked into the eyes of the man who stood above her. “Who’re… you?” Frank didn’t know what to say – he knew this girl wasn’t his angel, wasn’t the one that he loved that had been stolen away from him, but all the same. It was in her f---ing eyes. She held a whole world of secrets within the color of powder blue.

This fire rising through my being
Burning I'm not used to seeing you

“I’m the soul of a lost man. I’m one of the weak and weary in the heart – I’m the one to call when all is lost and your inner life needs a home.” Frank’s eyes flashed slightly as he spoke, revealing a momentary glimpse into his past that no mortal could ever see.

And so I cry
The light is white
And I see you

Soon, the longing for blood was too much. But this time… Frank walked away. Leaving Michelle to watch him go, wondering if he was anything more than an apparition conjured by her intoxicated mind. As he went, Frank’s mind was racing and jumping, wishing for an explanation. He asked himself why he hadn’t sated his thirst as he so longed instead of walking off – after all, she wasn’t the woman he’d fallen in love with so long ago. She was only a mere mortal girl who was drunk and pained. Yet, no matter how many times he attempted to tell himself this, Frank knew the answer to his actions. It’s all in her eyes.

I can feel you all around me
Thickening the air I’m breathing
Holding on to what I’m feeling
Savoring this heart that’s healing

[Wanted Penguin]

It's a shame the thread has 56 views but no replies. It's really good so far. :) This story doesn't have the feel as your other stories.. it seems a bit different, but in a good way. When I was reading this it felt like I was reading something by a published author, you're a great writer :] I liked how you addressed the audience with the "dear reader" thing. Ehh I don't really know what else to say. I love all your stories. I think you should keep it up and continue this piece. :]

[REVENGE]

The views thing always depresses me. :[ It seems everyone has time to take a quick view of the thread but not enough time to comment. On another forum I posted it on I got 23 replies and 188 views.

And thank you. ;D

Right now I'm going to be working full time on this story until it's finished - at least, that's the plan at the moment, anyway. This one's been my favorite to write so far.

Maybe I just love vampires. xD

[Frozen Angel]

Lol Lindsey it seems that all your stories always have a degree of gore in them, it's only matter of how much. I love them NG, I've always looked forward to your tales. Will print it out when you complete it and add it to my collection of your stories, so that whenever I feel bored and just feel like reading something, it will be the first thing I will grab.

[Pingu Chippa]

my teacher always nags me to read real books and newspapers
but i don't care what she says, i read your stories, it's a piece of beauty ;)

[REVENGE]

Thanks, guys.

FA: Yes, I love gore. xD Actually, I tried to tame it down a bit in this story, but all the same I had to slip just a bit in somewhere.

[Frozen Angel]

Thanks, guys.

FA: Yes, I love gore. xD Actually, I tried to tame it down a bit in this story, but all the same I had to slip just a bit in somewhere.

It's okay that you have to slip a bit. After all, some gore here and there spices up the story, making it more interesting to read.

It's an awesome, well-written piece. Great story. Never stop writing.

[REVENGE]

Thank you, Frozen Angel. :]

[REVENGE]

Chapter 4

Rory burst into her older sister’s bedroom with tears streaming down her face, unknowingly making a terrible headache all the more painful. “Sissy! Sissy wake up!” Michelle groaned as she rolled over in her bed to see her little sister in hysterics.

“What is it, Rory?” The seven-year-old started mumbling inaudible words as her crying escalated, and Michelle had to make her calm down a bit before speaking. Finally, her words made sense. “Sissy… mommy’s… in the… kitchen…” Rory said between broken sobs.

Michelle’s eyes grew wide as her sister’s words sunk in. No… oh my god, I locked the f---ing door didn’t I? How could she get in? Michelle ignored the pounding headache echoing in her mind and sat up, holding her head until the room ceased to spin. She steadied herself and walked into the kitchen to find her mother drinking the last of the milk from the fridge. Her brown hair was put into a messy ponytail on the top of her head, and she wore a black trench coat with faded jeans. Candice Stone sat at the small dining table, smiling up at Michelle.

“Why, hello there. You look familiar. Oh right… you’re the little b--ch that I gave birth to.” She said, malice dripping from her tone.

“What the f--- do you want?” Michelle’s expression hardened – it was almost as if her headache didn’t exist – as her eyes locked onto the woman who had not only given her life, but had ruined it as well.

Candice allowed an ugly smile to caress her face as she stood up from the table and strode over to where Michelle stood. “Oh, you know… I was just in the neighborhood, thought I’d drop in on my loving daughters… thought I’d give Rory a hello from her mother.”

Rory had followed Michelle into the room after getting control of her tears, but at the mention of her name from the woman she’d had so many nightmares of, she began crying all over again. Michelle knelt down in front of her little sister and told her in a soothing voice, “Go to my room, okay? It’s safe there. Mommy’s not there. I want you to go lay in my bed and stay there, no matter what you hear, okay?”

The little girl nodded, her light brown hair sticking to her face from the tears she’d cried. When Rory was safely in her room, Michelle spoke again – this time, all the soothing tones from her voice had gone. “Get out of my f---ing house, get out of my f---ing sight, and get out of my f---ing life. Okay? I’ve had enough of you – Rory has nightmares all the f---ing time all because of you. Does that mean nothing? SHE CRIES ALL BECAUSE OF YOU!”

Candice’s expression showed not the least sign of caring even the slightest bit. “I don’t care what she does because of me, it isn’t my problem. What is my problem, however, is having no place to stay because my own daughter kicked me out of my own house. I don’t have to leave – this house is in my name. You don’t own it, you never have, so stop pretending. Steven kicked me out, so now I’m back home, where I belong. I want you and that little s--t out of here pronto, so I can have my peace and quiet.”

“Not your problem? Not your problem, huh? Your own f---ing daughter isn’t your problem? The fact that a little seven year old girl used to cry when you left, and now she cries when you’re here isn’t your problem? The fact that she doesn’t EAT sometimes because of you isn’t your problem?” Michelle’s eyes were welling up with tears, but not because of any sadness she felt. It was because of the anger rising within.

Candice shrugged. “No, not my problem. All I need to worry about is taking care of myself. When your father convinced me to have kids, I thought it might be fun. Then I had you and realized I hated every f---ing inch of you. I wanted to abort that little s--t in there, but he wouldn’t let me. Told me he’d f---ing kill me if I did. So I had her – and now look where he is. He’s the one who’s dead. Daddy isn’t here to save you two b----es this time, so you’re gonna get the f--- out of my house and out of my life. For good this time.”

Now, the tears were flowing freely down Michelle’s face. “How could you say that about Rory? About me? What did we ever do to you, huh? Jesus, I remember when Rory used to love you because she was ignorant back then, and she tried to hug you one day when you were drunk and you hit her in the f---ing face. What kind of mom does that? What kind of mom kicks her own kids out of the house when it’s freezing outside and they have nowhere else to go?”

Candice only laughed, her eyes gleaming evilly. “You think your sob stories are going to do anything? I don’t care about you or Rory; I just want you out of my house so I can live my life proper this time around, without any f---ing kids. You’re the idiot that forgot I had a key in the first place – I could’ve come back anytime before now, you know. I just didn’t want to. But as of now, you and that little s--- are kicked out.”

“And what if we refuse?” Michelle dared.

Candice raised a fist and before Michelle could duck, hit her daughter in the middle of the face, causing her to stumble backwards. The 16-year-old put a hand to her face, pulling it away to see that blood ran down the skin like the tears from her eyes. She looked up to see her mother smiling. “Wouldn’t want that to happen to Rory would we?”

Michelle began crying even more violently – this time, from hopelessness and fear in the place of anger. Screaming mixed with sobbing met her ears, and she turned her head to see Rory standing in the hallway, looking horrified at her bleeding sister. Defeated, Michelle ran to Rory and picked her up, promising everything was going to be okay. “We just have to go gather our clothes together, and then we’re going to go for a walk…”

As Michelle threw all of their clothes into two plastic Wal-Mart sacks, she cried freely with her sister. The blood leaking from her bruised nose wasn’t attended to, and dripped onto the carpet with soft pattering sounds. Once the two sisters were gone from the house and kicked out into the cold, a trail of blood was left leading all the way to the front door from the two bedrooms, reminding Candice of the daughters she would never lay eyes on again. Candice merely smiled.

[REVENGE]

Chapter 5

Frank stood in the midst of a nameless forest, smiling as he watched his breath puff out from between his lips in white clouds. The sky was overcast and the trees around him glittered with ice, making it seem as if Frank was walking through a wonderland of ice and chill. Somehow the cold made him more aware of everything, made him more alert – made him feel human, if only for a little while. It was moments like these, in iced or snowy places of serenity, which reminded him of why he didn’t just throw everything away. Of why he continued living, even under the most crude of circumstances.

Or perhaps, why he continued dying, if you wish to take that route. Why he continued roaming the earth as a creation of pure hatred, as a being that was never meant to come into existence, as something that was created by the purest form of loathing towards God.

Because you took my angel away.

By the next afternoon all the ice would be gone and fallen from the limbs of the trees to the ground, making soft tinkling sounds as they did so. The winter wonderland would be no more; but none of that mattered. For as Frank Iero walked through the forest, it existed plain as day, making a smile creep onto his pale face. Yes, he knew the last place that Elizabeth existed – he felt her in the coldest and most serene of places when the snow or ice touched the earth, like whispers from heavenly voices showering down to meet the substance of mortal life. It landed upon the evergreen trees and the fallen leaves of the past autumn – Elizabeth spoke to him through these faint whispers of fallen voice.

Maybe it was all in his mind – he relived the memories that haunted him daily, letting them caress him gently before the pain struck him – the pain of being alone. The remembrance of the way that her corpse had hung limply – the way that the one person he’d loved above all else, the one thing he had been willing to give his life for had been stolen away, like a star at daybreak. A star that would forevermore be consumed by the light, unable to find her way back into the darkness that she so loved – the darkness that was forever left behind.

On most days, the forest of ice and chill would have been welcomed, but today it held more painful than pleasant thoughts for Frank – unwanted memories, painful memories. Soon he found himself walking back to the town of Whisper, strolling absentmindedly until he found himself in the local park about midday. The ice storm hadn’t struck this far south – instead, it had sprinkled a bit of rain and went on its way. Clouds still hung eerily in the sky, a sheet of unbroken fog, keeping the sun’s rays from breaking through.

The park was very humble, only a couple of swing sets, a seesaw, and a tire swing. All the same, he figured that it was probably pretty popular among the children of Whisper. A little girl was swinging with her older sister pushing her from behind, an elated expression painted on her face. The little girl’s light brown hair swayed with every movement of the swing, her small pair of jeans and purple sweater accenting her face nicely. As for the older sister pushing the swing, she had darker brown hair with a simple pair of jeans, a green sweater, and…

Bright powder blue eyes.

Michelle was pushing Rory on the swing, hoping to entertain her little sister as she tried to gather her thoughts, gather a plan, gather anything… Where was she going to go? What was she going to do? How would she get Rory ready for school? At this point it wasn’t a question of her own education – she would obviously have to drop out. There was no other way, and she’d tried so many different things in her head to make it work… but with no luck. Rory, one the other hand, was a different story. It was accepted for a stupid teen to drop out – but not a seven year old. They would come looking for her and ask questions, ask what was going on… Frank watched intently from a distance, eyes bright and attentive as the younger sister began speaking.

“Sissy where we goin’? Are we goin’ home where Mommy is?”

Michelle sighed, but continued to push the swing. “No, Rory… we can’t go back there. Besides, you don’t want to share a house with that icky old woman do you?”

Rory made a sickened face by sticking her tongue out and squinting her eyes together. Michelle only smiled as she shook her head at her younger sister – as said, Rory could always make her smile. “I don’t know exactly where we’re going after the park… is there anywhere you’d like to go?”

“Can we go to the toy store? I know you said you didn’t have any money last week but I waited a whole week longer to ask you again and every other girl in my class has a Polly Pocket Doll except me.” Rory turned to see her sister as she continued swinging back in forth, her eyes glittering hopefully.

“Rory… I’m sorry but… I can’t afford to get you one right now. Maybe next month I can-“

“Oh… okay…” Rory turned back around and hung her head – Michelle knew she was trying not to cry. The sick part of it all was that Rory probably deserved that doll more than any of those other girls – she never begged for it after she was told no, never asked more than once a week, even once a month at times. Tears welled up in Michelle’s eyes – there was nothing she wanted more than to be able to get things for her sister, be able to provide for her – be able to take care of her the way she deserved to be taken care of.

There’s a homeless shelter in the next town over… if we start walking now, maybe we can make it… they probably won’t miss her at school for one day, just until I can figure things out…

“C’mon Sis, I think maybe we’ll have to take a walk…” Michelle stopped the swing and grabbed her sister’s hand as she jumped out. Frank stepped forward, unwilling to see her go, unwilling to see those eyes go. “Wait… I know where you can stay.”

[Ziek]

You are a remarkable writer. You have alot of talent. Keep on writing! This story is very interesting, and is well written. I like how you always use lots of details and a wonderful choice of vocabulary!

Have you ever gotten anything published before? If not, you should consider doing so. :)

[REVENGE]

Thank you, very much. :] And no, I've never gotten anything published. I'm using these teenage years to practice everyday so that perhaps when I get older, I'll be able to become an author.

Chapter 6

Frank turned his gaze to the ground as Michelle turned to look at him with disbelief and slight annoyance. “I never said I needed somewhere to stay…” Malice dripped from her tone of voice – it was as if it had been another person entirely that had been pushing Rory on the swing and talking sweetly only a few moments before. Frank grimaced, still not daring to look at her in the face. The way his lips formed words; the way his chest moved when he breathed; the way he could sense emotions in those near him; there were thousands of things that had made him a different man than he had been before. How could he ever explain to her that he’d known she was looking for somewhere to stay only because he had sensed it? The answer was quite simple – he couldn’t.

“Yes, you did.” He still didn’t dare to look up at her – she would be able to see the lies in his eyes.

“No, I didn’t. I only said I was going for a walk with my sister – which is none of a stranger’s business to begin with.” Michelle held Rory’s hand tightly within her own and turned to leave the strange man behind – but once again, he objected.

Frank saw her turn to leave out of his peripheral vision, though he was still staring quite intently at the soft grass below him. “No, please… wait.” What the hell am I doing? She isn’t Elizabeth – regardless of what her [b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b][b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b][b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b][b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b] eyes say. But all the same, he didn’t change his mind – he couldn’t fool himself into thinking that he didn’t want to speak with her, to be near her, to even watch her from a distance if he had to.

Michelle turned to face him again – and this time, she sounded angry. “Look, what do you want? I’m not going anywhere with you, so just back off already.” She stood there impatiently, waiting for a reply.

“If I’d wanted to hurt you I would’ve done so when you were drunk, wouldn’t you think?” Frank raised his head – their eyes met - and Michelle gaped.

She stood there, letting the breeze gently play with her hair as she looked into his eyes. His lavender eyes that were all too familiar. Everything came rushing back into her mind, flooding her with unpleasant memories that she’d forgotten by the morning after. The man in the red shirt who had hurt her, who had refused to pay and had bruised her thighs where he had gripped too tightly; the pain that she had felt as she beat her fists into the rough concrete; and the eyes that had looked down upon her from above, so bright that they almost seemed to peer into her very soul.

“It’s you.” All the anger had fallen away from the contours of her voice – all that was left was pain.

Frank couldn’t help but look into her eyes and begin to smile – before he stopped himself. Smiling wasn’t an option right now. Smiling would only make him look even more like a lunatic. “As I said… I’m not going to hurt you. I would’ve done so already if my intentions were to make you feel pain.” He sighed. “Look… I’m only trying to help you. I’ll understand if you don’t trust me and walk off, because that’s completely understandable.”

Pausing for a moment, he added, “Actually… perhaps that would be the best of choices. Rain is supposed to come in again tonight, along with a cold front. There’s no telling what the hell it will do – I just don’t want to see that little girl out in the cold tonight. If you don’t believe me, look me in the eyes.”

Lying probably wasn’t the best of tactics, and Frank knew so in the back of his mind – but he had to get near her. Somehow, someway, he just had to. Until this point in his life as a [b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b][b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b][b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b][b][color=red]- PLEASE REPORT ME FOR SWEARING!!! -[/color][/b]ed being he had felt nothing but hatred towards humans and had no intention but that of evil. Now, only because of those eyes that shone with the intensity of Elizabeth’s, he was offering to actually help someone when all he really wanted to do was kill and drink. In a way he resented Michelle for this – he didn’t want to feel anything but hatred. When he felt otherwise, he remembered and felt things that were painful.

Michelle stood there for a moment, staring at Frank with Rory’s hand still clutched in her own. It’s one thing for me to be out in the cold, but I can’t do that to Rory – what if I can’t make it to the next town before nightfall or before the storm arrives? Thoughts were whirling around in her head, agreeing and contradicting each other all at the same time. But what if he hurts us? What if he’s not safe? She took another look into his eyes and knew that none of that mattered – she didn’t have any choice but to believe and trust him. Rory could die if she got sick at such a young age without treatment; Michelle didn’t have but a small amount of money to feed her with; and she knew that Frank might be her only chance, whether he was safe or not. Chances had to be taken.

Slowly, Michelle stepped forward, dragging Rory along with her. Holding out her hand to the man in front of her, Michelle spoke in words that were barely audible. “Okay. We’ll go with you.” Frank looked down at her hand for a moment and then took in a deep breath as he grasped it in his own, remembering the last time he’d taken hold of an outstretched hand. Remembering what had happened to that person – that angel.

His angel.