The Hunters moon

A Death Of Peace Of Mind

Astar

Oh, how this will be the sweetest kill. My tongue runs over my fangs, ready to drain every speck of life force out of this Angel. Her sweet scent filling the room gloriously. The beast crouching over her, breath ghosting across her neck. The perfect scene to go with the perfect beauty.

Just before my fangs seep into moonlight flesh, my hands ghost themselves over her skin, thumb running over the soft touch of her lips.

The air changes, swirling with a mixture of earthly minerals. Dead leaves cling to the air swirling with her skin. Those lifefull eyes cast themselves up to the leafless trees. Mist clings to the edges of her hair, the same dark attire wraps around that lush form like a second skin.

Small droplets of water sprinkle along my face, lazily my hand wipes away the excess water. Smiling, she raises her hands up to the sky, accepting the rainfall. The sight is insignificant, nothing special about this will linger for anyone else. For me it is everything.

“Astar.” Her voice calls to me, “I was wondering when you’d reveal yourself.”

I say nothing, even as I close the distance between us, my mind has nothing more on it then to do this one thing. The very thing my entire being craves to do.

Turning to me her eyes bare pure life through them, cheeks with a hint of blush. “Astar?”

Taking her hand in mine, I pull her to me. I plant kisses on the back of her hand, ensuring to grace each knuckle. The emotions roaming over her face must match mine. For when I lean down those eyes already lull shut awaiting what is meant to come. What was written in the stars to happen.

Jolting back my body nearly collides with the furniture. The beast within rejoices, signing his gratitude to whoever he himself worships. My chest heaves in heavy pants, mind reeling over what was just shown to me. A vision of the future? No, impossible. This is more of a damning distraction. Why else would the gods attempt to grace me with something so holy. Just to watch me burn forever beside those who already reside in that forsaken place.

The being before me doesn’t so much as stir from anything. As if she is in a deep slumber, one that will not be awakened by a creature of the night. Once more, my finger ghosts over the blush of her cheeks. A serge of energy tingles back up through my arm swelling within my chest. Realization seeps into every single morsale of my being. I can’t kill her. Something deep within, stronger than the beast chants its damning words.

Taking a step back, my leg brushes against the edge of the table. Her mug has the end of a tea bag hanging from it. The smell is of mint and ginger. Besides that rests a book. Picking it up, my eyes scan over the title.With the purr from the beast my mind screams the word distraction once again. Dropping the thing back onto the table I take more steps away.

She is a distraction, one that I can’t afford to waste time on. I cast one last glance back upon the creature in the bed. The vision of her in moonlight etched itself into my mind. The way her chest rises and falls, the sweet scent of her skin, how she sleeps on her right side under multiple blankets. Once she is a permanent image in my brain, I flee into the night. Not once looking back at the creature who is meant to be mine.

If I am to leave this hell, then we cannot be. She is not the thing I most need in this world. She may be what I crave, but my fangs thirst for something much more potent, my freedom. That is something no mere mortal shall ever take from me.

-

The mansion's doors fly open for me. Not a single soul lingers, the way it should be. Even with her scent still within these halls my mind focuses on the main objective. My mothers room. Climbing multiple stairs my feet finally land me where they are meant to be. Before this witch of a woman's room, her old room. Once within, the pricking sensation of her eyes stipple themselves into the back of my neck.

My teeth ground themselves. “Always watching.” I said to her, even if she won't respond. Still, another ominous feeling prickles distastefully down my back.

I skip the obvious places like the drawers, under the mattress, below the bed. Those are all useless. They are the things that were replaced. Spending any time on useless decoration is pointless. Instead, my fingers pry the board from below her adoring vanity mirror. Mother would do her face every morning and night before this hideous thing. Speaking words of wickedness to it, as if whispering to an old lover. It’s only plausible she would bury her most well kept secrets below it. Once the ancient floor board has been made into firewood, the opening reveals what I knew to be below it. Her crafting books.

Two thick books weave themselves together. One a ruby red the other an emerald green. I can hardly recall the few times I’ve seen these. Within those insignificant times of my life, the only prosperous memory remains, the amount of power within these things.

As if all the sense has left my brian, I reach out to one, only to be met with a powerful shock. A low laugh rumbles through my chest. “You would hex them, can’t have Draven and I finding out too much too quickly.”

Using a loose board from the rubble,I poke at the dusty old pages. Not so much as a shock ripples through me. Grinning, my hands work efficiently to retrieve the books from their hiding places. Once they are out I move them onto the bed before wrapping the sheet around them and easily hauling them into the air.

A low rumble shakes the very ground. She’s upset, good. Throwing the sack over my back, “What’s that saying about the b***h works hard but the wretched work harder . . . well, I’m sure you know what I’m getting at.” Turning on my heel to take my exit is the sweetest victory known.

That victory continues all the way down the steps, through the door, along through the way to the trails. Long gone has the last of the Clan turned in for the night, long before that the remainder of the tourist. Now all that remains is the scent of ash in the air.

On the far off end of the trail is the remains of an old burnt down church. Or at least that’s what I tell the Clan. Really, this is where all my business is taken care of, below the burnt down ashes of this old relic is the cellar, opening up the old thing the hinges sing into the night. The smell of earthly elements hits me right in the face. Quickly, I descend into the earth below.

The area itself is really nothing special besides a wall with books, some painting supplies, and an area to do my dirty work. Throwing the books down on the old table an unusual hum echoes. I click my tongue, “Sorry Mother Dearest, can’t have your wandering eyes looming through my mansion now can we.”

Removing the cloth shows the books in a new light. Taking in more of their covers shows what imprints mark on the outsides, a crow on the red a wolf on the green. How fitting.

Picking up a tool beside the desk my fingers work their way to pry open the books. At first there was a small buzz while trying to flip the clasp off, then a full blown shock when it almost unlatches. I try with multiple other tools. All turn out the same way, with a shock ripping up my arm so forcefully my teeth clatter together.

Throwing myself back into the chair I curse out loud. Below the table is my stash of brandy, whipping out the bottle, I down its contents. My mind whirls with how to accomplish the task at hand. The books are a key in all this, they have to be. Each puzzle piece set out by this witch of a woman needs to be gathered soon. The Hunter’s moon will reside in the sky tomorrow, leaving two weeks to locate everything.

Then there is the matter of the woman- my mind whips itself for thinking of that dreadful creature. The distraction that already stole precious hours from this task. Loosely my hand runs through my hair, a low growl set in the back of my throat. A pounding begins within my temples. The beast within fighting fiercely with my mind. To ease some of his rage, I find that phone within my pocket.

Quickly typing out a message then sending it to one of my minions. If I want to escape from this place everything inside needs to be at peace. So as a small offering to the beast, I allow the thing what he craves, some knowledge upon the creature.