Graves - 6/22/2003
Chapter 1
Me: Rated R for violence, and sex later in the story.Círdan: I hate this story...
Me: Well, I don't. And let's let the reader decide!
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"Lenore? Lenore honey, time to come in."
The sun is setting and a woman stands on the porch in a backyard. A little girl peers around the corner of the house. She looks around four- years-old with shoulder length brown hair and a slightly chubby face.
"Alright Mommie, just a minute, let me pick up my toys."
"Ok, hurry up though, it's getting dark." the woman says, and goes back into the house.
Lenore goes back around the house, to a side yard. She kneels down in the dirt, looking into a hole in the ground. In it is a dead mouse. The stomach has been cut open, the eyes poked out, and the legs broken to point odd directions. Lenore covers up the mouse with dirt, and picks up a small knife off the ground. It has blood on the blade. She lifts up a rock, revealing a small area that has been dug out. In it are a lighter, a rag, and pins. She takes out the rag and wipes off the knife blade, putting the blade into the knife carefully, and putting the knife into the trove, and replacing the rock.
She gets up and runs around the corner and into the house. Her mother is sitting on the couch, with a baby on her lap, watching the news. She looks at Lenore. "How did you get so dirty?" she looks at Lenore's shorts, which have small drops of blood on them. "Did you hurt your self honey?"
"Oh, not really. I just bit my lip by accident." Lenore says.
"Alright, go wash up then."
"Okay Mommie." Lenore says sweetly, turning and walking down the hall to the bathroom. After switching on the light she gets a stool from a corner of the bathroom and pushes it up to the sink. Getting on it she turns on the water, and puts her hands under it. She stands there watching the water run over her small fingers. She hears a door open, and heavy footsteps.
"Why are you home so late?" her mother asks.
"Because." answers a man gruffly.
"Where you drinking?"
"Why is the house such a mess?"
"It isn't a mess. Where were you?"
"I was working. Just shut up about it." There is a long silence. "Why isn't the dinner made? I have a meeting to go to."
"I was busy, and I didn't know if you were coming home, so I didn't start it."
"Busy doing what? What do you do all day?" the mans voice begins to raise angrily.
"Take care of the Lenore, and Patrick..."
"I'm out working, making money for this family, and you can't even have dinner for me when I get home."
"I don't want to argue."
Lenore finishes washing her hands and walks silently out of the bathroom, turning off the light behind her, and down into her bedroom. She sits on her bed, her eyes closed, the lights off.
Lenore sits on the floor with her little brother, playing blocks with him. Her parents are in the other room, her dad on the computer and her mom cleaning off the table. She hears her mother drop a plate into the sink, the sound of porcelain on porcelain.
"What are you doing?" her father asks, annoyed.
"It slipped..."
"What are you having a fit about?"
"Nothing! The plate slipped!"
Lenore saw the tension in the air, and picked up her little brother, and carried him down to her room. As she closed the door she heard her parents begin yelling. She took out some Barbie's from her closet and gave one to her brother. She looked at the one she was holding, and, with the sound of her parents in the background, snapped the dolls head off and threw it at her mirror.
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Me: I love Lenore...
Cirdan: Reminds you of you at her age?
Me: *looks upset* ....
Cirdan: Sorry, I didn't mean to bring it up...
Me: Well, my loving audience. What did you think? Review me please!
Chapter 2
Me: Yay! Next chapter...Círdan: Why do you put me through this torture?
Me: *hugs him* cause I LOVE you!!!
Círdan: choking...*cough* loosing circulation...
Me: Well on with the story! *grins while continuing to "hug" Círdan*.
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"Happy B-day Len!"
Lenore sits at a table with some of her friends. She is now in the 9th grade, and looks much different then when she was four. Her hair is still shoulder length, and her eyes still brown, but she has thinned out tremendously. She is wearing jeans, a black tank top, black converse, and some silver bangle bracelets. She is holding a wrapped package in her hands, looking at it.
"Well? Are you going to open it?" the blond girl asks. Lenore smiles at her, and unwraps it. In it is a dagger, with a dragon engraved on the handle. Lenore's eyes grow large.
"Oh my god! Thank you so much Gwyn!" She hugs the girl.
"Ok, now open mine.," says a brown haired girl, pushing a small bag across the table to Lenore. Lenore takes the bag and sticks her hand into it, drawing out a small box.
"Oh Ave, you are proposing?" Lenore says mock seriously. Avis laughs.
"Yes, will you marry me?" she asks.
"Yes!" Lenore says happily, leaning over the table and pretending to kiss her. She sits back down and opens the box. In it is a silver necklace with a dragon pendant. She takes it out and puts it on. "Thank you so much Ave! I'll never take it off!"
"Damn right you won't, that cost me a bundle."
Then the bell rang, marking the end of lunch, and the girls walked off to class, Lenore stuffing the dagger in her backpack.
Lenore sits on a bench at a bus stop. She looks at her watch.
"Damn...15 more minutes..." she grumbles to herself.
"Where are you going?"
Lenore turns quickly, towards the voice. A boy is standing there, looking at her. She recognizes him from school.
"I'm going home. You?"
"To the teen center by my house, to meet some friends." he says, followed by a long uncomfortable silence.
"Can I come?" Lenore asks, smiling at him. He is cute, with light brown hair, brown eyes, and a trim figure. He looks at her, as though judging whether she is a psycho or not.
"Sure, if you want. You're Lenore, right?"
"Yeah, and you are Allan?"
"Yup."
Lenore scoots over on the bench, so he can sit down. He smiles, gratefully, and takes a seat.
"Happy Birthday." Allan says.
"Oh, thank you. How did you know it was my birthday?"
"Oh, just the fact that someone taped a sign that says, "Kiss me, I'm 15" on your back." he says with a laugh, peeling it off and handing it to her. She laughs.
"Gwyn and Ave...my friends are odd."
"In a good way, since you seem okay." Lenore lowers her voice, leaning towards him.
"That's what you think. I'm really a homicidal maniac in disguise." she says, grinning darkly. Allan laughs. Then the bus pulls up and the doors open. She stands up and puts on her backpack, following Allan onto the bus.
Lenore sits on the edge of a pool table, rolling a ball back and forth on the table absent-mindedly. Allan is aiming up to make a shot, but the stands up and looks at her with a mock stern glare.
"You can't move the balls, you'll mess up the game." Lenore puts the ball back in its original place.
"Okay..."
"And you need to get down."
"Why? Cause I'm distracting you?" she says stubbornly, still sitting on the table, smiling at him suggestively. Allan's friend, who's house they ended up going to, laughs.
"Yes cause you are distracting me...now get down." Allan says, poking her with the pool stick.
"Make me." Lenore says, grinning at him evilly.
"Yeah Allan, show her what kinda man you are." Jason says, shoving Allan towards Lenore. Allan looks at him angrily, but grabs at Lenore, who moves out of the way, and ends up kneeling on the pool table.
"Come on, get down Lenore..." Allan says, looking at Jason. "If his parents see you we are fucking dead."
"His parent aren't home, are they?" Lenore says. Jason shakes his head.
Allan grabs at her again, this time grabbing her arm. Lenore pulls him up against the table harshly, twisting her arm free. A phone rings in another room of the house.
"Hold on, I got to get the phone." Jason says, running out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Lenore scoots further away from Allan.
"You're way to weak, and way to slow, to catch me." Lenore taunts. Allan climbs up onto the table, and crawls towards her. She moves backwards till she is sitting on the edge.
"You've got no where to go..." Allan says, close enough he could be on top of her in an instant. Lenore laughs, and leans back, rolling off the table, and landing on her feet, on the floor. Allan blinks, startled for a moment. Lenore backs up slowly, but Allan jumps off and tackles her to the floor. Lenore rolls on top of him and then off, crawling under the pool table.
"What are you still chasing me for?" she asks, as Allan gets up, and starts to move towards her on his hands and knees. Lenore is on her back, but she is propping her torso up with her elbows.
"I don't know...the thrill of the hunt I guess." Allan says, crawling under the table, and on top of Lenore. He stops, his face inches from hers. Lenore can feel his quickened breath on her face.
Then, before Lenore can react, Allan kisses her. Startled for a moment, she almost pulls away, but then she kisses him back. He pushes her onto the floor, and pins her arms down, so she can't sit up. He kisses down over her jaw and down her neck, biting at her skin. Lenore is not trying to shove him off, so he lets go of her arms, and goes to take off her shirt.
"Allan...what if Jason walks in? What if his parents get home?" Lenore says, grabbing his wrists. Allan crawls back off of her, and sits down on the floor. Lenore sits up, looking at him.
"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to..." Allan says, his face flushed. Lenore climbs onto his lap, pressing herself against him.
"I didn't mind. I just don't want to get caught." She says, kissing him gently.
"Don't want to get caught doing what?" Jason asks from the doorway, a devious smile on his face. Lenore laughs, and gets off of Allan. Allan glares at Jason, and takes off his shoe and throws it at him.
Lenore sits in her room, on her computer. She is typing something, and listening to music. The dragon dagger that Gwyneth gave her sits in her lap, the silver glinting in the dim light. She stops typing and looks at the screen, thinking. Her fingers fiddle with the dragon pendant on her necklace. She stops and rubs her eyes harshly.
What are you doing? You can't do this to him. He doesn't deserve to have this. You aren't meant to be with another person.
She starts typing again, but tears begin to roll out of her eyes and down her face. She keeps typing, still, ignoring the tears that are falling into her lap, and splattering on the knife.
End it now, before he becomes attached to you. If he becomes too attached, he will only end in pain and misery. You know it, I know it, we all know it. Why do you find it so hard to separate yourself from others? You love your friends? No you don't, you just use them, for your own purposes. You only need them to feed your ego, and your need to be needed, that is all.
She slams her head down on her desk violently. Sobs begin to shake her body. She takes the knife that sits in her lap into her hand, and tightens her fingers around the hilt. She sits up and looks at her other hand, looking at her wrist, the bare white flesh. She draws the knife across it, a red line left behind it. She watches the blood run out of her wrist and down her arm and onto her pants.
Yes, you like to see blood, don't you? Ever since you were little, when you used to decapitate mice and birds in your backyard. You like the feeling of pain that is surging up your arm and the adrenaline that is rushing through you right now, to take away your pain. It's almost like killing, isn't it? The same blood, the same pain, the same fear and horror, the same adrenaline from watching a living thing die. You want to kill humans, don't you...
She sits there sobbing, watching the blood slowly stop flowing, as it clots over the cut. She licks her fingers, once the flow has stopped, and wipes off the blood excess of the cut, leaving a thin line across her wrist.
You hunger for human pain and horror. You want to see that look of animal helplessness and hate in their eyes as you stab them and watch them bleed to death, their souls slipping out through the wounds with the blood till their eyes glaze over. You wish you could.
Lenore stands over the body of a boy, her age. He is lying in a puddle of blood, on the ground. Trees surround them, no one is around, and there is no sound, not even bugs humming in the hot air. The smell of blood fills her nose and makes her feel drunk. She falls to her knees. His chest it raising and falling slightly still. He looks at her, his eyes cloudy. One bloody hand reaches towards her. His mouth seems to be trying to form words. She leans towards him, trying to hear what he is saying.
The hand grabs her hair, and pulls her onto him. He opens his mouth, but all that comes out is a gargled hiss, and blood that rolls out over his chin and onto his chest. He pulls her face closer and closer to his face. She struggles to get her hair free, but can't. He is amazingly strong for a person who is dying, for a person who has lost so much blood. He pulls her face against his, kissing her, vomiting blood into her mouth and down her throat. She struggles but to no avenge. He tears at her clothing with his other hand, shredding her shirt so much that it just falls off of her.
She is choking on the blood, and gagging as he shoves his tongue into her mouth. He is tearing at her pants now, ripping them apart, leaving bloody cuts on her legs. He pulls off the cloth that remains. Lenore tries to scream, but can't, the blood clogging her throat and lungs. He heaves his bloody mutilated form up on top of her, still holding her hair tightly. She beats him with her hands and tries to push away with her feet.
He forces himself inside her, and she beats him even harder. He is pushing deeper and deeper inside her. She can feel herself bleeding, and feels herself growing weak, but continues to struggle. He comes inside her, and then pulls out, and pulls his mouth away from hers. Lenore realizes that her eyes were closed and opens them. She is in a dark room; Allan is leaning over her, a grin on his face. He leans down and whispers in her ear.
"The dead can't move, the dead can't hurt, but the living can molest you limb from limb. The living will always break you into pieces."
Lenore sits up in bed, her heart beating viciously against her ribs. Moonlight shines through her window, casting sinister shadows on the walls of her room.
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Círdan: O_o you are scary...
Me: I know...Allan was such a nice guy...
Círdan: What do you mean WAS???
Me: Well folks, its that time! Reviewing time!! If you post happy stuff *cough cough* I will write up another chapter...
Círdan: Because she has been to lazy to do it till now...
Me: I thought I killed you...*glares at Cirrie*
Círdan: *ducks into closet*