Love's Death

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Prolouge

The silent footfalls of graceful feet belonging to a black shadow of a burly man, ran across the cold surface of the concrete of the deserted street of Burleigh. The agitated growl and a flash of white enlarged canines is the only sign of flaw, unintentionally escaping the carefully placed façade upon the cold stone marble face. The sound of an eerie silence cloaked the night. The full moon looked down upon the world. Its light and presence added to the unknown magic of the night.


The shadow ran up the brown granite tiled front stair of a lighted house. The sounds of joyful laughter came from the house. A quick flash of a strong delicate pale hand emerged from the inside folds of an oversized coat and quickly dipped into the pocket. Slowly and carefully the hand reappeared pale. Now holding a piece of paper with elegant hand writing he then reached into his coat and brought out a small bundle. With a quick flicker of a smile full of love and happiness. The fake façade was forced back in place but his emotionless eyes held a twinkle of sadness.



Looking down as the bundle began to move he bent down and carefully with a delicate touch, he laid the bundle down to the ground. Quickly tucking the letter into the folds of the cloth of the green bundle, he kissed the top of the cloth. Standing up he took a tiny step forward, knocking on the door in a stiff, jerking movement. With a snap of a finger he was gone. As the door opened by a woman, light spilled into the night, causing a shadow to cover the peep hole of the bundle revealing a pair of bright green, black, and silver speckled inhuman eyes staring curiously at the figure. Eyes similar to the shadow who had left her there on the steps for a significant purpose.





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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

Elizabeth O. said...
Jun. 23, 2009 at 12:10 am
god...me too. i cant ever be satisfied with my work. I wonder what this was like to begin with because its amazing....
 
luvtwilight said...
Jun. 19, 2009 at 8:02 pm
Interesting story. I certainly know what it feels like to re-write something over and over and never be truly satisfied. I liked your story though.
 
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