Thanks to my sis :D

"Kurzicks are Goths. They're pale like cheese. I wonder if they taste like cheese?"

Soon to be a Graphic Novel...

Echoing footsteps. The slapping of covered feet falling on the cold monotonous concrete of the city. It sickened her. Long gone were the days of forest trails and dirt roads. Those lay in the past. Inescapable and as old as time itself. She shook her head, trying in vain to dislodge memories that couldn't be hers. Impossibly old. Timeless, memories both familiar and not so. Memories of magic and creatures never before written into even a fantasy novel. She stumbled, having lost her concentration.

Again.

She pushed herself forwards, shoving any vestiges of strange memories to the deepest crevices of her mind. A place where they could be forgotten while she ran, the wind whipping her hair, causing it to slap against her skin, the pain biting deep and adding to her resolve. If she couldn't outrun her past then she could at least escape it for a time. She turned down a side alley, a path she had traversed many times and one in which she was so familiar it nearly brought a smile to her lips. Something about her destination called to her, pleaded with her to once more run the pathways of an ever-shrinking world. One day it would disappear, leaving her alone, broken and devoid. That day would see her to her grave, or someplace worse if it were not to be so. Thoughts chased themselves about her head, colliding with delicate barriers put in place to keep memories at bay. The line seemed to blur, for once combining a past not her own, with a life she could recognize, understand.

A laugh escaped her. Tonight she would taste freedom. Freedom that had long been denied her over the past years. At nineteen years old, she felt like an outcast whenever she found herself among others. Something about their presence didn't feel right, caused her to want to hide some secret that she herself didn't know.

She quickened her pace over the final stretch of concrete, seeing in the distance the first sign of trees. Stark, almost barren against the dark sky, the trees stood tall, foreboding to most people, but not to her. The dark confines of the forest felt more like home than any other place ever had. Something about the trees called out to her, comforted her like nothing else could.

The trees seemed to reach out. Their branches creaking and groaning in the wind as she neared them. Their shadows stretched towards her enveloping her in their dark embrace. She sighed. Her fears forgotten for the moment. Nothing but the trees. Only they were seen by her. Everything else faded to the edges of her consciousness. A deep peace surrounded her something only the trees could bring. She couldn't explain it, even had she wanted to. The trees just seemed to hold some kind of connection to her, one that she longed for throughout the day, and raced towards when the sun's last rays finally disappeared into the spreading shadow of night. The world enveloped by night's embrace. Silence and serenity enshrouding everything the darkness touched and calling many to the comforts of their beds.

Her footsteps slowly faded, whispering over the hard packed earth and wet leaves, unlike the loud echoing she made upon the concrete. A flash of lightning in the distance breaks serenity of the moment; thunder rumbling like a train wreck destroys the quiet of her favourite place. She stumbled, glancing behind herself. Her eyes hold a knowledge bellying her young appearance. In the depths of that knowledge lie the vestiges of fear. She is haunted. Haunted by a past not her own, or so she tells herself. Everything in her bearing, her demeanor holds the remembrances of a life before.

She once more resumes her running, trying in vain to outrun a past she can never forget. If not for the storm she would be blissfully unaware. Her eyes burn and she blinks rapidly trying to hold the tears at bay. She doesn't need this. She never needed this. Life was hard enough and unbearable without reminders of what awaited her when she finally left her quiet abode among the forests' branches. Even her past haunts her still. Stalks her.

Always there.

Always just beyond her line of sight.

A shadow passes behind her, unnoticed by her tortured mind. She stops, placing her ear buds in her ears and turning on her music. The heavy beat grounds her, calms her, provides her with the will to continue. To forget.

Green eyes watch from among the foliage. Their vibrancy blending perfectly with the bright autumn colours worn by the leaves surrounding him. His eyes hold a deep, resounding intelligence for one such as he. His eyes follow her down the trail. Understanding lighting a fire deep within them. His instincts cry out for him to hide from the storm, to weather its passing. He can't bring himself to do so. Crawling on his belly, using his fore and back legs to drag him silently along the path, he follows her. A twig snaps on the darkened path behind him.

Growling he turns and searches the dark with his nocturnal eyes. Nothing. Nothing behind him, nothing in front. He lets the sounds of the girls footsteps fade away as he investigates the path for any signs of other life. He finds the twig, broken cleanly in two. The culprit nowhere to be found. Hackles rise, flanks shiver. The temperature plummets in the immediate area around the twig. Frost quickly coats the leaves on the ground with ethereal patterns, forming stars and snowflakes. Shivering he backs away, sensing a great malice. The air seems tainted. He can taste it on his tongue, like rotten meat, it intrudes upon his senses, threatening to overwhelm. Snorting he takes off into the underbrush, instincts demanding he put distance between himself and the foul presence.

Behind a tree explodes, chilled too quickly by the ungodly frost. Splinters of wood fly through the air, embedding themselves in trees, undergrowth, and fur alike. Yelping he turns to peer behind himself, the frost appears to be rising from the ground like a great tidal wave of white death. Its fingers creeping towards him, chilling everything in his path, warping and twisting everything it touches. Facing forwards once more he breaks through the trees, searching for the fastest route to escape the encroaching mists.

She shivers, otherwise untouched by the cold. Her music pounding out a beat, one she maintains, running to the grounding tune. Her breathe goes in through her nose and out through her mouth. She starts, her breath at once fogging the air directly in front of herself.

"How strange," she mutters to herself. "It wasn't this cold a moment before..."

She shrugs it off as nerves. Nothing more than her desire to never return to the outside world. The one found beyond the trees. Her footsteps slow as she reaches a clearing, one in which a rock can be found at the centre, tall and magnificent in all its glory. The place she visits every night. The place where she stands upon her rock, or lies upon it, staring at the moon and stars. A sight denied her in the city, with its overpowering bright lights, and incessant traffic. Never ceasing in its noise. She longs for the embrace of the quiet that was before.

"Before what?" she asks herself.

Shaking her head, she climbs onto the rock staring at the cloudless night sky, the full moon suspended among the stars. A rustling in the leaves to her left, grabs her attention. She leans of her elbow trying to see into the black cover of the trees. Nothing. She sighs.

"I really need to loosen up a bit. Everything little noise is making me jump lately."

The rustling continues even as the wind ceases its dance among the branches and across the grass. Her hair falls still. Her heart beats faster; sweat beading on her brow as her gaze locks onto the ceaseless rustling of the branches.

A dark figure emerges, cloak seeming to be made of the very fog following in his wake. He comes towards her, eyes hidden in the confines of his cloak, hands lost within the folds.

"Who are you?" she demands, edging her way off the rock. "What are you doing? Stop!"

The figure ignores her, continuing his slow advance on her position.

For every step he takes towards her, she takes a step back. Her back connects with something unyielding. She risks a quick glance behind her and realizes her mistake. The other rock outcropping is at her back, preventing her from moving any farther in that direction. It occurs to her that this cloaked stranger may have intended this form the beginning. Her realization to late to help her, her only choice is to move towards the figure to get around the rock.

A shiver ripples down her back, unwelcome and involuntary. The gaping black of the hood is all that can be seen where the face should be. Hands reach towards, dead and grey, mottled with black, rotting pieces. The smell of rot and burning flesh assaults her nostrils as she tries to push herself further into the unyielding rock at her back. A whimper escapes her, one that at first she cannot place.

The figure descends upon her. Green, red, and yellow colour burst into the air, closely followed by a glint of silver and a nearly feral growl. Green eyes take in the scene unfolding in the clearing, eyes cold in their anger and hatred towards the cloaked figure, who ignores them. The shadowy figure dances around the new arrival and continues undaunted towards the terrified young woman.

His cloak snags, he gives a powerful tug. Shredding cloth accompanies his actions. He turns angry red eyes on his new foe. Let's out an ear-piercing screech, stunning the poor animal where it stands, flanks quivering. The wolf fights down his terror and leaps once more in front of the young girl, baring fangs at the cloaked figure. Taunting. Challenging.

"The little wolf seeks to protect you. How unfortunate," The cloaked figure rasps. "For the both of you, that is."

The cloaked man lunges, a flash of light ripples throughout the clearing. The man's blade sinking into the unprotected flesh of a forearm.

"Unfortunate is it?" A deep masculine voice asks. "Are you so certain?"

The dead, milky eyes of their assailant regard the deep green of the man before him. A man whose hair is the purest of blacks, darker than the night sky itself, seeming almost blue in its nature, crimson streaks hide within his hair. Crimson that brings back a twinge of memory, one she had long ago locked away.

"Who are you?" she demands.

"Now is not the time," he whispers. "Perhaps it never will be."

She regards him with narrowed eyes, brow furrowed.

"You don't think I have the right to know? You were a wolf! By the Gods, I'm losing my mind!"

He tears his eyes a way from the enemy for a moment to regard her curiously.

"You invoke the Gods?"

She returns his gaze looking confused, "I- Yes I did..."

He offers her a smile, "Maybe you haven't forgotten everything."

"Forgotten-?" she screams as the cloaked figure attacks them again.

The two men fall to the ground, struggling with one another. The one with the green eyes comes out on top, panting heavily. Struck by the cloaked figure he sprawls away into the undergrowth. A black wolf with a white muzzle crawls out of the undergrowth on the other side of the clearing. His lips peeled back, teeth bared, a deep growl resonating from deep within his belly, hackles rising. Her eyes widen in fear as she sees death within the depths of his amber eyes.

The second wolf leaps. Claws ready to tear his adversary to shreds. The blade of a knife glints in the moonlight. Blade nears fur-covered flank. Blade connects. A flash of light and a man stands before them again, sword in hand. The sword plunged into the cloaked figures unprotected chest, easily slicing through sinew and bone. The cloaked figure bursts into flames, ashes falling to the ground.

Behind him the girl falls to her knees, eyes wide and uncomprehending.

The twenty-some year old man regards her slowly, the moonlight touching his skin as it peeks out from behind a cloud. Black dust rises from his skin, as he disintegrates before her eyes, a look of sweet bliss masking his handsome features.

She shivers where she fell. Her mind reeling in shock as memories from another land, another world, assail her. She feels something wet upon her cheek. Reaching up she realizes it's from her tears. She's crying, and she doesn't know why.

"Did I know him?"

"I should say," comes the reply, marked by a groan and the rustling of leaves.

The younger man-wolf, she isn't really sure anymore, stumbles out of the trees, offering her a hand.

She regards him, looks at his hand, and doesn't take it.

He sighs, "Come on Tali, it's time you stopped blocking out the memories."

"Who are you?"

He looks stung by her innocent question, "No one important, I suppose...at least, not anymore."

"No, really, who are you?"

He looks thoughtful for a moment before offering, "A friend?....Again?"

She looks even more confused by his answer, causing him to immediately regret it.

"You know what? Forget it. Don't worry about it. I'm no one, not to you. Not anymore...and by the looks of it never again."

She watches him as he retrieves a black cloak she hadn't noticed before, intricate silver and green symbols cover its exterior, seeming to disappear as he places it around his shoulders.

He offers his hand to her again, "Come on, I'll walk you home."

"Walk me home?" she echoes. "After all this?"

He looks away from her, she barely catching his next words, "Why not? You'll just block it out like everything else."

"I beg your pardon!?"

"Did I say that out loud?" he mocks. "Would you like to remember?"

He traces a glowing glyph in the air, sending it flying towards her. Her hair flies back as it connects with her flesh. Her eyes widen, their colour changing to a vibrant indigo, her plain hair changing to a brilliant crimson.

He cringes visibly, "Sorry...I didn't mean to rip your wards apart..."

Her eyes cloud over as images tear through her mind. Memories long forgotten falling into place. She beholds him in a new light.

"James?" she whispers.

He nearly trips over a root in his excitement.

"You remember me?"

"How could I not? I can't believe I ever forgot you..."

She finally takes his hand; a ripping sound accompanies her action.

"What do you say to going home?"

"Lead the way," she whispers.

They fade away through the portal, a ghostly figure appearing behind them.

His voice is deep and husky with emotion, "A beautiful reunion to be sure...I, the Saviour forgotten...by my own friend's daughter...Left to be Forgotten and Alone."

Freedom

Wind howling

Leaves swaying in the breeze

Sweet slumber echoing throughout

The forest in the deep darkness of night

Serenity's longing embrace

Thought and fear forgotten

Among thoughts of

Freedom

Longing

The weavers weave

Dreams made of flesh and blood

Sticking to the crevices of

An unprotected mind; fear awoken

Screams sharp as shale lying on silk

Cutting away comforts

As they fall through

My life

Lifeless

You stare back at

Me; blue lips cold as frost

Star-shaped patterns dancing on

The windows, holding to the changing leaves

Fading voices in my mind, I

Pity you your peace; all

I see is your

Dead eyes

I know

Freedom like entwining rivers

Water surging to the sea

Honour like the truth told when all

There is, is crippling fear

Dignity like walking away

From an insult, head held high

Inspiration like an author

Written dreams become reality

Comfort like the sandpaper kiss

Of my beloved Tavia

Joy like the first gentle rainfall in spring

Cascading droplets on my skin

Hope like the fading of an old

Injury, strength renewed

Serenity like a secret

Leaves fluttering to the ground

Love like burning on the inside

Kindling a flame before me

I know

Paws fall, only to land silently on the packed earth of the forest floor, picking their way through the dry underbrush in silence, unheard.

A twig snaps, a shrill cry in the now-broken silence. He's near, though he doesn't know it.

Silence settles once more, unbroken even by the branches swaying gently in the night breeze.

Your paws fall silently picking a path over the dry leaves and fallen branches so as not to scare the rabbit you stalk.

You feel your belly rumble softly as it anticipates the meal that is soon to come.

Carefully you move down wind, the smell of the rabbit hits you full in the face. Mouth watering in anticipation, you creep towards your prey.

Passing through a patch of pale moonlight your coat glistens like ebony and ivory, glinting in the light before once more being plunged into darkness.

Your emerald eyes watch unnoticed from the cover of leafy shrubs smelling of mint and chives.

The rabbit steps tentatively into the clearing, slowly approaching the marble surface of the pond at its center.

You flex, digging shallow gashes in the soft earth with your claws, as you wait for the right time to lunge.

The rabbit creeps slowly forward, finally satisfied that it is in no immediate danger, and allows itself to bow its head and drink from the water.

The bush explodes in a shower of soft leathery leaves and a blur of fur as you break from your hiding place, leaping through the air to land, one paw either side of the screeching, terrified rabbit.

Sharp fangs sink into fur and then unprotected flesh as they hold the thrashing rabbit, which is doing nothing more than hastening its own death.

The warm metallic taste of blood invades your mouth as you gorge yourself on your kill.

You clean your paws with your pink leathery tongue, hunger abated for the time being.

After taking a quick drink from the cold pond sending ripples across its marble like surface you once again disappear into the dark forest, vanishing from view among the closely growing trees and underbrush.

Running through the underbrush in near silence, you barely notice as time passes and the moon rises high in the night sky.

You run until your paws grow sore and you've finally reached the smooth and chiseled rock that juts out of the forest on a cliff overlooking a sea of green that stretches on as far as your keen eyes can see.

Raising your muzzle to the sky you let out a mournful howl to the moon. The pack soon answers and adds their voices to your own.

Your song echoes out over the canopy, a beautiful yet mournful tune, as only a wolf's song can be...

Loss like a swiftly setting sun

On a dark and cloudy day

Uncertain like the roiling waves

On an untamed stormy sea

Cold like the bitter bite of frost

On a windy autumn day

Pain like broken shards of glass

Piercing soft delicate flesh

Anger like the flames of a fire

Tendrils licking at the wood

Despair like the last light fading

Vestiges of memories gone

Hollow like the trunk of a tree

Rotting amidst its friends

Hate like a thick cloying perfume

Smothering all who breathe it

I feel

Nothing

My characters placed in a modern setting....

Lucien stared in mute shock, disbelief like a shadow crossing over his face, as he took in the man and the gun in front of him.

"I bet you didn't think you'd see me again," the gunman said, the hint of a maniacal smile curving his lips. "Nothing to say, Lucien?"

Lucien's mouth opened and closed soundlessly as he fought with his raging emotions. Deftly he tried to gauge the distance he could run before the gunman pulled the trigger, or how accurate the man's aim might be.

At last he whispered, "Lucas?"

Lucien absently rubbed the scar on his left cheekbone. A scar that had begun to fade over the years. An image flashed into his mind of a copper pipe and pain flared in his cheek once more. The memory, even after all these years was still so near. He glared at Lucas with a hatred tempered over the long years since his absence.

The man with the gun smiled, clearly sensing Lucien's discomfort. His smile revealed his nearly perfect white teeth. He was missing both canines on the right side of his mouth. He held up a key, which dangled from a decrepit looking antique chain.

"I used the house key," he answered simply. "All these years and you have never, not once, changed the locks. Why is that I wonder?"

As he spoke he waved the gun around in a careless manner, causing Lucien to back up and ultimately find himself unable to move any further as he collided with a wall.

"Would you be careful with that," Lucien snarled, holding up his hands in a placating manner, in hopes of diffusing the tension from his outburst.

The gun leveled on him again.

The young man's eyes had darkened at Lucien's words. Piercing green eyes peered out from disheveled blonde hair; a deep shadow hid half his face. But what Lucien could make out of the other half was dark and unhappy, eyes crested by eyebrows that arrowed in sharply. Arrowed in due to an anger, virtually unchecked.

"Be careful?" he echoed quietly. "Now why would I want to do that?"

He continued right on talking, but for the most part was ignored by Lucien who was more concerned with devising some sort of plan to free himself from this dire predicament.

The entirety of this time the young man's piercing gaze never once left Lucien's face. He seemed to be soaking in the telltale wrinkles that came with age, memorizing every line and contour of Lucien's face, with a great attention to the details. The scar that was just below Lucien's left temple, faded with the passing of time, but still visible to those who had a desire to find it.

"...Remember this?"

Lucien, startled by the sudden directness of the Lucas' attentions, looked up into the young man's haunted eyes, eyes that held the knowledge of men at least twice his age.

The young man was pointing to his missing teeth.

"Do you remember that day?"

"Lucas, I-"

"Do you remember that day!?" the young man bellowed. He appeared to be reliving some long forgotten past. A past he could never forget. A past that haunted him still.

"Now Lucas, I don't know how you found me and I'm not sure how you got out, but this has to stop," Lucien said as calmly as he could. "No one needs to get hurt, and no one wants you to regret anything you might do while in this state of mind."

"Regret?" Lucas asked quietly. His eyes held a far off look to them, as if he was caught between the past and the present that stood before him.

Lucien nodded, "You don't want to do anything you might re-"

"Do you regret?" Lucas asked, cutting him off. "Do you regret what you did that day? Do you have any idea what she's gone through because of you? She had to watch her brother as he was carted off to prison, and fend for herself for three years."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Lucas. You're delusional. You need help. I would never harm my daughter in any way."

Lucas shook his head in disbelief, the gun falling to his side as he held his head in his free hand, his features covered by his splayed palm. He breathed in ragged gasps, desperately trying to block out the memories that had chosen to resurface. At his side the gun shook with the trembling of his body. A trembling that came with reminders of the past.

He remembered that day ten years ago. He had come home from school, excited at the prospect of his twelfth birthday. However, the house had been silent. At least, it had been from all outward appearances. He had pulled the house key from his pocket. A key he still kept on him at all times lest he forget that day.

He trembled with remembrances of that beating. The fire that had seared his split lip. The metallic taste and smell of his own blood. The right side of his face and body had been bruised black and blue for the better part of two weeks. The agony from that beating and the resulting bruising dulled in comparison to what Lucien had done next. In his blind fury he had taken the poker from the fire and branded Lucas numerous times, details he had never shared with Leena. His hatred for his father had done little more than fester and grow that day.

Upon opening the front door he had heard Leena's screams coming from the vicinity of the basement. Panic and adrenaline had made his heart flutter in his chest, fear nearly blinding him as he had run down the stairs to confront his father as his younger sister was struck to the ground by Lucien's left fist. Her screams were silenced in this manner. This time his father had gone too far. Thus he had rushed to his sister's side and taken the brunt of his father's anger. An anger that had knocked out two of his teeth. Teeth he had never had replaced.

The following events were still a blur, his memory of exactly what had happened unclear, even to this day. Perhaps that could be explained by the amount of times his father had hit him. He had never really been too sure.

He remembered his sister's screams with clarity upon her wakening to find him bleeding, the smell of charred flesh overpowering, as he still stood in front of her, keeping the much larger and stronger figure at bay.

The next punch his father had thrown at him had been easily dodged, throwing his father off balance and causing him to fall. Lucas had then searched the immediate area for something, anything to use as a weapon. An old piece of copper pipe had been lying on the floor a few feet away and that had been his only choice at the time. He had taken the pipe and struck his father with it, knocking him unconscious and leaving behind a scar that had never faded.

Now was a time for answers, a time for retribution, and consolation of the past.

"Do you?" Lucas shouted. "Do you regret anything? Anything at all?"

Lucas was taken completely by surprise as Lucien lunged at him and took the gun from his loosened grip.

They faced each other. Lucien holding the gun level with Lucas' chest.

"How does it feel now?" Lucien asked.

Lucas' hands moved in a blur as he drew a second gun and held it level, as he stared at Lucien with a deep and ever growing hatred.

"You decided this, ten years ago, but no more. No longer will I let you hide."

"I'm sorry, so sorry....don't do this Lucas," Lucien said his finger tensing on the trigger, as he was consumed by laughter. "Lucas....my son-"

"Too late dad."

And he pulled the trigger.