Lost in the Darkness
folder
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,042
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,042
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Lost in the Darkness
This is my first story here so give it a break, something I thought of so no real links. No one was really harmed/attempted to be harmed/acts like Iris. Just a made-up character, hope you enjoy. Further chapters will have the sex scenes, so be warned in advance.
Chapter One: BC
Dark. Cold. Dead.
That\'s how the dark-haired girl felt that sat on the floor of Herio\'s School of the Gifted Minds. It was a tiny High School just above the banks of Tokyo\'s shore. Only the brightest and most capable minds were allowed. And only the best of those got in. How this girl reached the top of those best, she\'d never guess, but she didn\'t want it, didn\'t want any of it.
Iris Omega had been this way for over one year. 458 days today, she shuddered. 458 days of the end of her life. Or what she hoped to be the end. All those days, every second of that time she had wanted death, waited and longed for it\'s touch. But death, it never came. Maybe it had been lost long ago...maybe death was a dream that was only a mere way out that had been lost to her from wanting it so much. Maybe, as punishment for her sins, she was immortal now. Maybe.
She pulled herself from the damp floor that was covered in water. Covered in her tears. She walked to the nearest mirror, her lower lip trembling uncontrolably as she lifted her head ever so slightly and looked into it. Her long dark hair was let loose against her shoulders, falling down to almost hit her bum. Her eyes were large, blue-green and dull. She was pale, meduim for her size though she grew thinner by the day, you would too if anorexia was a common word to you. The light pink band around her flattened stomach was tight. Today she wore a white kimono, her best one with light flowers drawn onto it, her bare feet cold against the floor. Her face was still wet from crying.
It was not often that she cried, in fact today was the first in quite a while. She could remember when she last truthfully shed tears, when her mother, father, her family left back to America. She had transfered to this school on her own bidding three years ago, and from there on out, had hated herself for doing so. Light red marks lighted her arm, cutting herself with her sword was another thing Iris found common. Pleasureable. She got a thrill from seeing the blood flow, the tears run hot down her face as she scarred her body, scarred her very soul. But only one had she allowed to stay. One scar she could not hide, nor could she mask. On her right leg just above her knee cap, BC.
BC.
The intials rang in her mind as she cleared her throat, wiping her face with her hands. She couldn\'t let Master Hino see her this way. He\'d ask questions again, and she couldn\'t have him asking questions, not with him in her class. Too risky, too dangerous she told herself.
She grabbed her sword from the wall, placing it gently back into its black encasement as she headed down the hallway, her eyes shifting from each door to the next. She was looking, of course, for him. Her life now revolved around him. She had given in months ago, decided there was no more will in her to fight it, and had since let that cold darkness run over her, her body and mind consumed by fantasy. Her world no longer her own, but a world of dreams that her mind allowed her to believe.
\"Omega! In here now!\"
Hino\'s voice broke her train of thought as she tilted her head slightly, looking into the room with a bright curiousity. He was already there, already waiting for her. She turnt her entire body before walking towards the door and into the classroom.
A sweet smell of insence filled the air, lavender and hyssop. Hino\'s vast sword collection hung on the wall, begging to be used again. But she had no need for a sword, had no need for a weapon. Looking to the walls she found a painting of a river, complete with a pear tree swaying in the light breeze. Below it was a marble statue of a Japanese monarch from long ago. He reminded her of Hino, old and stern, a look on his face that told her that if she did not obey his every word she would be killed. Though Hino no longer held that threat over her, he knew of her wanting, and instead used the purpose of life against her, tempting her with the lessons when he\'d twist her arm just so to make her scream, when he\'d slice that sword so close to her neck she\'d gasp and her eyes would lighten, hoping he had cut something, anything. Never. At last her eyes shook a bit, she didn\'t want to look. She couldn\'t...
\"Sit down! Now! Are you deaf? Can you not hear? This is why I hate Americans!\" Hino shouted at her, her eyes betraying her as she looked to the middle of the room where the dirt lay, where the rock lay, where Blaise Chicos lay sprawled upon the ground, drove into her heart.
The Italian American brat, son of an embessy of murders. Killer Trash Hino would refer to it, Italy\'s Finest, would her heart muse. His skin was paler than hers, never having left his mansion in Rome for any reason. Being the son of the Mofia, would you go outside? His hair was brown, coming from his American father, his horrible father. The wife of Bortonia Feshdino had an affair with a traveling man from the Carolinas, and in so resulted Blaise, his emerald eyes, his fair skin, his deep dark voice that betrayed his looks. An angel her heart mused. A dark, hateful demon-angel.
Iris\' eyes remained on him until she saw his head began to turn ever so softly. Her head jerked as Blaise made to look at her, his black kimono lying ruppled on his body, the top open and bare to her veiw. Her eyes lay steady on Master Hino, realizing the training was about to begin. She bowed her head to the ground before swiftly turning to sit, she stopped suddenly when he held his hand up. \"No child, beside Blaise.\"
Review please, off to work on the next chapter. Whatever shall Blaise do to poor Iris?
Chapter One: BC
Dark. Cold. Dead.
That\'s how the dark-haired girl felt that sat on the floor of Herio\'s School of the Gifted Minds. It was a tiny High School just above the banks of Tokyo\'s shore. Only the brightest and most capable minds were allowed. And only the best of those got in. How this girl reached the top of those best, she\'d never guess, but she didn\'t want it, didn\'t want any of it.
Iris Omega had been this way for over one year. 458 days today, she shuddered. 458 days of the end of her life. Or what she hoped to be the end. All those days, every second of that time she had wanted death, waited and longed for it\'s touch. But death, it never came. Maybe it had been lost long ago...maybe death was a dream that was only a mere way out that had been lost to her from wanting it so much. Maybe, as punishment for her sins, she was immortal now. Maybe.
She pulled herself from the damp floor that was covered in water. Covered in her tears. She walked to the nearest mirror, her lower lip trembling uncontrolably as she lifted her head ever so slightly and looked into it. Her long dark hair was let loose against her shoulders, falling down to almost hit her bum. Her eyes were large, blue-green and dull. She was pale, meduim for her size though she grew thinner by the day, you would too if anorexia was a common word to you. The light pink band around her flattened stomach was tight. Today she wore a white kimono, her best one with light flowers drawn onto it, her bare feet cold against the floor. Her face was still wet from crying.
It was not often that she cried, in fact today was the first in quite a while. She could remember when she last truthfully shed tears, when her mother, father, her family left back to America. She had transfered to this school on her own bidding three years ago, and from there on out, had hated herself for doing so. Light red marks lighted her arm, cutting herself with her sword was another thing Iris found common. Pleasureable. She got a thrill from seeing the blood flow, the tears run hot down her face as she scarred her body, scarred her very soul. But only one had she allowed to stay. One scar she could not hide, nor could she mask. On her right leg just above her knee cap, BC.
BC.
The intials rang in her mind as she cleared her throat, wiping her face with her hands. She couldn\'t let Master Hino see her this way. He\'d ask questions again, and she couldn\'t have him asking questions, not with him in her class. Too risky, too dangerous she told herself.
She grabbed her sword from the wall, placing it gently back into its black encasement as she headed down the hallway, her eyes shifting from each door to the next. She was looking, of course, for him. Her life now revolved around him. She had given in months ago, decided there was no more will in her to fight it, and had since let that cold darkness run over her, her body and mind consumed by fantasy. Her world no longer her own, but a world of dreams that her mind allowed her to believe.
\"Omega! In here now!\"
Hino\'s voice broke her train of thought as she tilted her head slightly, looking into the room with a bright curiousity. He was already there, already waiting for her. She turnt her entire body before walking towards the door and into the classroom.
A sweet smell of insence filled the air, lavender and hyssop. Hino\'s vast sword collection hung on the wall, begging to be used again. But she had no need for a sword, had no need for a weapon. Looking to the walls she found a painting of a river, complete with a pear tree swaying in the light breeze. Below it was a marble statue of a Japanese monarch from long ago. He reminded her of Hino, old and stern, a look on his face that told her that if she did not obey his every word she would be killed. Though Hino no longer held that threat over her, he knew of her wanting, and instead used the purpose of life against her, tempting her with the lessons when he\'d twist her arm just so to make her scream, when he\'d slice that sword so close to her neck she\'d gasp and her eyes would lighten, hoping he had cut something, anything. Never. At last her eyes shook a bit, she didn\'t want to look. She couldn\'t...
\"Sit down! Now! Are you deaf? Can you not hear? This is why I hate Americans!\" Hino shouted at her, her eyes betraying her as she looked to the middle of the room where the dirt lay, where the rock lay, where Blaise Chicos lay sprawled upon the ground, drove into her heart.
The Italian American brat, son of an embessy of murders. Killer Trash Hino would refer to it, Italy\'s Finest, would her heart muse. His skin was paler than hers, never having left his mansion in Rome for any reason. Being the son of the Mofia, would you go outside? His hair was brown, coming from his American father, his horrible father. The wife of Bortonia Feshdino had an affair with a traveling man from the Carolinas, and in so resulted Blaise, his emerald eyes, his fair skin, his deep dark voice that betrayed his looks. An angel her heart mused. A dark, hateful demon-angel.
Iris\' eyes remained on him until she saw his head began to turn ever so softly. Her head jerked as Blaise made to look at her, his black kimono lying ruppled on his body, the top open and bare to her veiw. Her eyes lay steady on Master Hino, realizing the training was about to begin. She bowed her head to the ground before swiftly turning to sit, she stopped suddenly when he held his hand up. \"No child, beside Blaise.\"
Review please, off to work on the next chapter. Whatever shall Blaise do to poor Iris?