The Hunt Continues...

Today, while looking for new headphones that I had stowed away in my room so that I would not lose them -ironically, I still cannot find them- I found something I wrote two years ago for my Grade 12 Writer's Craft course that I would like to share with you all. Considering that it is Supernatural based I thought it fit. 

Our teacher told us to write a short, descriptive story, no more than a page, using one of the six words she gave us in a list. I chose 'attack' and this is what I wrote...

Bloodlust

by K. A. Becks

We huddled together, our breath hovering in the dank cellar; listening as footsteps thundered overhead. The predators were hunting. My petite, baby sister grabbed my arm in fright, digging her tiny nails into my pale skin and whimpering quietly so that she would not be heard. Dust hovered around us. The pungent smell filled the room, slowly suffocating us with its stench. The thunder stopped; we held our breaths. Chills shook our bodies and rattled our bones but we remained still, quiet, and waiting. The floor boards creaked above me and through the cracks, the pale-skinned, greasy haired creature hovered, sniffing, and searching. My heart pounded against my rib cage like a prisoner in a containment cell. A gasp of pain came from my left; five heads turned, watching in horror as warm, ruby red liquid sprang forth from my eldest sister's smooth wrist. My senses immediately jumped to life at the metallic scent of blood. The sleeping beast that possessed me two nights ago, when my neck was pierced by some unseen fiend's venomous fangs, had finally awaken. The thunder started again, a different kind, a rumbling sound that ascended from the deepest depths of hell. They were growling; they smelled it, more importantly, I smelled it. The sweet, tepid juice was calling me; I tried to fight back my urges, a losing battle. A startled scream came from my younger sister as an explosion of sound sent the planks flying. Their bloodshot eyes were wild and frenzied, their muscles ready to spring forward and attack. My mind was screaming at the scent of the dark liquid and I licked my pale-rose lips eagerly, watching like a hunter as my sister snaked her way back, shielding her wound with her soft, slender fingers. I gave in, my eyes turning scarlet and bloodshot. Ebony hair draped across my shoulders as I pounced, bounding toward my sister with dangerous intent. A scream, like that of an eagle soaring through the sky, echoed through the moist room. I drowned the rest out as I sucked the crimson syrup from my prey's inert arm, ignoring the cries as my feral brethren continued their assault on the rest of the game. A frosty chill shook my bones at what I had done, what I had become. Even as a beast, I still felt it. Cold fear gripped my heart in inescapable talons, yet still, I fed. The beasts rose from their kills, planning their next attack, their next victim. I joined them; pondering which beating heart I would instill this cold feeling into next, whose sweet nectar would follow the previous flowers. The war between night and day, dark and light would continue, and there would be stone, cold blood.

End.

I feel this to be an inspiration to Hunter and gives me hope. Yes... I can write a dark novel of Supernatural fantasy! I hope you all enjoyed!

I've just come to the realization that this is the second year that I have watched Mama Mia! with my mum right before I leave for school... I feel this is a worthy tradition. And with that, I leave you as I always do.

Happy reading!

K. A. Becks