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Angelus... No, not Angelus. No more. Angel, now. The vampire with a soul. The weak, starving vampire who refused to feed off humans. The terror of three continents reduced to a stumbling, semi-delirious husk by a gypsy curse that restored his soul and his conscience. An aimless drifter, huddling in the darkness. The light of truth shining on his memories burned as surely as the light of the sun on his skin.
Angel half shambled, half fell into the barn. So weak. So hungry. In the darkness, something moved, reacting to his presence. It seemed to shine with a light of its own. A trick of the light, surely. He looked more closely. It was a horse. No, too small to be a horse. A pony. Angel blinked woozily. Surely it wasn't that pink. No living creature could possibly be so brightly, gaudily... pink. And the brand on its haunches could not possibly be... How could you even make a brand with those colors? Hallucinating. He must be. So hungry he was seeing things. But the pony was real, whatever its coloration.
It was small, even for a pony. But it was warm and alive. It belonged to someone - the stable and the brand made that clear enough - but better to eat someone's little pony than to feed off the human owner. He had to eat something. He bit down. It tasted... cheerful. Bright magic washed through him. What was this thing? He felt its soul leave. A soul? How could a pony have a soul? He jerked back, cutting himself in his surprise, confusion, and revulsion.
The magic coursed through his system, fighting his inner demon, shining light on his soul. He passed out. He didn't know for how long. But when he came to, the pony was transformed. Newly risen, in human form. A vampire. No, not a vampire. Something new. Uncanny, even by his standards. What had he done?
Having sired it, whatever it was, he could sense things from it. Feel its mind, or what there was of its mind. Vacant, hollow, and fixated in some odd, platonic way on young girls. It opened the barn door. Daylight flooded in, causing Angel to skitter back. He breathed a sigh of relief - or as close to one as a creature with no breath could manage - knowing that the creature would destroy itself, burned to harmless ashes by the light of the sun.
Except... it wasn't. Something in its mixed-up magical nature allowed it to survive. Instead of burning, it just... sparkled.
What was it? The barn door (he could read the name Cullen on it now) closed. Angel huddled in the shadows. What had he unleashed on the world?
Angel half shambled, half fell into the barn. So weak. So hungry. In the darkness, something moved, reacting to his presence. It seemed to shine with a light of its own. A trick of the light, surely. He looked more closely. It was a horse. No, too small to be a horse. A pony. Angel blinked woozily. Surely it wasn't that pink. No living creature could possibly be so brightly, gaudily... pink. And the brand on its haunches could not possibly be... How could you even make a brand with those colors? Hallucinating. He must be. So hungry he was seeing things. But the pony was real, whatever its coloration.
It was small, even for a pony. But it was warm and alive. It belonged to someone - the stable and the brand made that clear enough - but better to eat someone's little pony than to feed off the human owner. He had to eat something. He bit down. It tasted... cheerful. Bright magic washed through him. What was this thing? He felt its soul leave. A soul? How could a pony have a soul? He jerked back, cutting himself in his surprise, confusion, and revulsion.
The magic coursed through his system, fighting his inner demon, shining light on his soul. He passed out. He didn't know for how long. But when he came to, the pony was transformed. Newly risen, in human form. A vampire. No, not a vampire. Something new. Uncanny, even by his standards. What had he done?
Having sired it, whatever it was, he could sense things from it. Feel its mind, or what there was of its mind. Vacant, hollow, and fixated in some odd, platonic way on young girls. It opened the barn door. Daylight flooded in, causing Angel to skitter back. He breathed a sigh of relief - or as close to one as a creature with no breath could manage - knowing that the creature would destroy itself, burned to harmless ashes by the light of the sun.
Except... it wasn't. Something in its mixed-up magical nature allowed it to survive. Instead of burning, it just... sparkled.
What was it? The barn door (he could read the name Cullen on it now) closed. Angel huddled in the shadows. What had he unleashed on the world?
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Glad to see your writing, btw! ♥
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also, i dont know how much attention you pay to thinkgeek, but i've finally found the perfect twilight t-shirt. it says "team van helsing" and shows a knife dripping sparkly blood. david is getting me one for christmas. i've been wearing a "team jacob" shirt because werewolves are hott, but...it still feels sorta wrong.
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And I don't usually pay attention to ThinkGeek, but it's funny. I just sent a friend there because she was browsing geek tshirts. I like the Team Van Helsing one. And hey, from what I understand Jacob is the much cooler, better, more reasonable alternative. (A fact which surprised and irked the author, from what I hear.) Anyway, vampires suck. But warewolves can be cool. Though I personally prefer the Mog from Spaceballs. "Half man, half dog. I'm my own best friend!"