1The Death of Jazabelle Florence
Christina C
The sun set on May 21st very much like it did every other day. The sky was having trouble deciding on what colour to be. Would it be the creamy orange, pale pink, or possibly that wonderful majestic purple? Usually it could never decide, but the sky isn't really the focus here. The sun isn't what started this story, it was the moon.
The moon rose and shone majestically over the little city of Harmshire, twinkling innocently, filtering its soft light through the trees and between the houses. Not many people knew of the dangers that the moon brought into the dark night. Those who did know knew better then to walk through empty streets and infrequently treaded pathways. Unfortunately, Jazabelle Florence was not one of those people that knew these things.
Jazabelle was too busy hurrying home after a very late swim practice to realize that taking the shortcut through Vincent Park was probably not the best idea. Practical maybe, but dangerous definitely. Jazabelle was counting on the fact that…well to tell you the truth, she wasn't really counting on much to get her home safely, though she knew most certainly that if she wasn't home in ten minutes she'd be grounded for a week. Little did she know that being grounded would be the least of her troubles.
She was halfway through the park when the sun finally set and she realized how bad of an idea this had been. She had heard the rumours, watched the news stories; she should have known better then to choose this path. She picked up her pace, praying furiously to the God she didn't believe in that no one would get it in their head that it would be a good idea to kidnap or rape her, as this was an unfortunate but fairly regular occurrence in Vincent Park.
She mentally kicked herself, after which she hoped that, that would be the extent of any harm that would come to her. Her eyes shifted from side to side and tried to sort out the paranoid images from reality. Was someone in the trees? Were those footsteps she heard behind her? Fear clawed at her from every angle and all she could do was keep on walking. A twig broke somewhere to the right of her and this propelled her into a run. She cursed and her eyes swelled with tears as she ran for her life. Now there was definitely something running after her, but her fear kept her from looking anywhere but the ground ahead of her.
Something grabbed her by the arm and she let out a wrenching sob, "No please! Let me go, let me go!" The hand tightened around her arm and swung her around. Jazabelle now faced her attacker. She looked up into pale blue eyes. They were soft and made her let out a quiet gasp. They were pretty…dreamy even. Were these the eyes of a serial killer, or the eyes of a rapist? Jazabelle was glued to them; her breathing slowed and her muscles relaxed, and she leaned into the cold, strong body of this stranger.
"What… What do you want…with me?" She asked softly, suddenly aware of the strangers hand running through her long, cherry red hair. His face, for most certainly the stranger was a male, moved so close to hers that their noses touched. He looked into her amber eyes with his blue ones and he whispered ever so softly,
"I don't ask for much, just your mortality." He pulled her hair suddenly, yanking back her head and exposing the goose-bumped flesh of her neck. She didn't have the time to scream as he bit into a vein and drank her blood.
The moon watched, silent and neutral, as the life drained out of Jazabelle Florence.