The Here is a piece I wrote a few years ago based on this Dumont Mina story I recommend reading first. Two
sunsets
second (Byron version).
"That girl?, His name is Angela, one hour will be burned at the stake, accused of witchcraft by her neck symbols, symbols that two nights ago I got there, after all she's mine ...
I had taken my castle with its aura, it was something strangely familiar in his time knew not identify it, but after this series of events would unfortunate in that we both have been mixed up, well, she thought she was alone, and perhaps for that reason I venture out of bed in a room that did not know that of course complicates things, always easiest just drink them asleep.
When I entered the bedroom she went to the toilet, sit in a dark corner on one of the cornices of the roof as she surveyed the room, ignoring that Angela did not immediately went to the castle, instead sat on the bench and began to brush her hair.
I expected to return to sleep, try to influence it with dominance but Selune rays in the window cut any attempt to discipline, the only way it would go up and exercise influence in the eyes watching, so once asleep the drink in peace, devised the plan fell gently pen and started to approach in the dark, unfortunately for both light Selune invaded the shadows and let my reflection in the open.
She closed her eyes in dismay thinking maybe that was dreaming and then I understood that it would be best to crush the sweet creature with great violence and take her by force Vitae. Unfortunately, this issue would not be so simple because I had not the slightest idea, but Angela did not scare easily.
I walked and when I was a couple paces away she opened her eyes and enjoy fully her almond eyes, the flow of his dark curly dark hair and the subtle aroma of roses emanating from his body, was inhaling the aroma of my nose I felt dead as a memory in my mind was trying to break through whole years of solitude sorrow and blood, but hindered by pain, sank back into the sea of \u200b\u200bunconsciousness.
For a moment I realized that girl was the first living person in that room she walked nearly eight years, and for a moment, bathed in moonlight was strange to be together, even for food. Reach
where she was, well, so close to finally accept that she was beautiful, touching his face and felt the softness that gives life, the beauty of his young body, I smiled thinking of her sweet and bathed Selune Vitae understood why he had brought with me, this idea that memory was making its way through the straits of aged hatred within me as I watched the full God shining in the night sky.
was there when it happened, the wrought iron chandelier crashed at high speed in my temples dead, Angela was released from my embrace and ran to the door, I will take a while to recover from the surprise more than the coup, but confident stretched a finger toward the veneer while murmured -Deravel-
I quickly jump out and hold her by the neck with the delicacy of a lion who takes a live deer, that is, holding back enough to make her suffer without killing it, weakening it, filling the room with the aroma of suffering. When he could not stand up but drop to the ground, that dinner was more troubled than his foreign delicacy could do thinking, yet all that amused me greatly, you are brave for one so young, will be happy to drink your blood sweet and pure, to see the suffering in her eyes and amused by their expression of authentic terror I decided to add "and eat your meat tender young-fun turned into laughter as she to ask a superhuman effort between stuttering - who or what are you? - what could I do to such a question? Only a handful of years later and nobody knew who I was, had lost the respect and fear of the herd that fed me, my own people did not know who caused havoc among their wives, their young and sometimes their animals I do not stay angry feverishly more to do than recite the singing that would make famous my lord in feudal times - I'm crying you can not mourn, I cry when you can not scream, ice in your heart when you tremble, my name is Iacopus Lord Byron, Count of Ventimiglia, and I'm the worst nightmare of your darkness.
Take a kid, to lift the floor and bring arms to the bed, "you're a pretty strong girl, you should consider taking your life for me or the depths, I think I said out loud that their black eyes sank in the mist of my own, and suddenly remembered where I knew the aura so cute, where he had seen those brown eyes, where I smelt the scent of wild roses, it was Angela, she was gone and now the fate bound me to her again, everything was like that night, the same night in which the die and save his way of saying thanks was to start Look away ...
marks on his neck as he said, "I belong now and forever as it must have been eighty years ago began to bend it to dominance, when he shut his eyes, kissed her and put my fingernail in your neck, brand the last time draw a picture really drew my name in an unknown tongue, the smell of his Vitae was sweet and warm, and the pained expression on the face of Angela could lead to either a frenzy.
Suddenly my discipline disruptive arousal and she could release the trance, I lie down and ran to the window like last time,
hit in the bedrock of the cascade, to which like the last time survived with relative ease, his mistake was to have come to the village, where no one would believe him and risking to end like this.
a look, just get it out of his cell to attach it to the post is the time we expected, turn on the wood as you entertain the guards and the executioner while I untied, remember that she believes we also want to kill so we'll go with caution after dark again lose memory and believe human again, I must complete the embrace before that happens, if happens, give yourself and your soul rest in peace, you know I can not become, I can not risk having another Angela loosed upon the world. That
Mystra be with you, we will be at Valhalla.
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