Woken

Chapter 1

That smell. That luscious smell. He knew it. He knew what it was. He knew he needed it. His ice blue eyes snapped open and stared into nothing but white. Why did he need it..? He struggled, clawing through his thoughts in agony, searching for the name of the beautiful smell upon his nose at that moment. It was only a light scent, yet seductive enough to send shivers of life through his exhausted body. His cold body. He had never been so cold before, so frozen.. only once. 

When was that? When..I was so cold..? His thoughts surged through his slow moving mind once again, trying to recall the feeling of his body and very soul being numb, frozen without feeling, but he couldn't. Those memories would not come forth to him. 

'Blood.' blood...he forced his senses to work, sniffing the air once more. He could smell it now without the unknowing clogging his mind. He knew what that seductive smell was. The seductive scent that overpowered his entire body. But an even more seductive and easy power to give into racked his body. Exhaustion. Fatigue. Along with not recalling ever being so cold, he did not at all recall ever being so weak, so helpless. He closed his eyes again, silently willing himself to get up from the icy land of white beneath him; begging his body to listen to his mind.  

Get up. Get up. Get up. Get. Up. With slow and steady pain, his body finally listened. Starting with his ice covered finger tips, to his hands, then to his back and legs. Carefully, and gingerly he stood up, using the little strength within his famished body left. He stood straight and let out a sigh that racked his dry throat.  

He smelled the blood again. More of it. There was more. Something was hurt. Bleeding. His body burned with hunger, yelling at him to find the delicious source. His savior. He would die if he didn't get to that source soon. Even then he might die anyway, he knew this, he knew it well. He was beyond his limits as he staggered forward, only to moan and land in the snow once more.

He lay there in the wet snow for some time before finally opening his bright and tired blue eyes. Whether it had been seconds, minutes, or near hours before he opened them again it couldnt matter anymore; the smell that would have saved his life was no longer in the freezing wind. It was gone. Hope vanished, first in his mind, then deep into his soul. He knew he was going to die. Die slowly in the cold. It didnt bother him much. If he had the strength he would have welcomed death with open arms. He let out a long sigh. Slowly he moved his cold arms and forced his numb hands to touch the frozen ground and applied pressure. Painfully, he turned himself over onto his back. 

White. It is such a pretty color, a pretty thing to die looking at, He thought as he looked at the sky. He had always been associated with such dark, wicked colors. Scary colors. Such as black. He personally did not like that color; black. It reminded him of the darkness he had spent most of his life in. Ironically, he did not love the dark, not as the others did. Darkness was a ruthless force that overtook ones mind and filled it with meainingless, imaginary things. It was ironic to him, that a being that is supposed to be an imaginary part of such darkness was afraid of it. That is why he liked the white. It was bright, and colorless, yet filled with everything. You could fill a white page with anything, just as you could paint a white sky any color. You couldnt do that in the dark, or with the color black. He stared at the nothingness of white some more then closed his eyes. Entering the feared darkness once more. Perhaps it is better to die seeing something you are familiar to, he thought then chuckled out loud to himself. He chuckled some more, letting it all slip through his two pale lips. He was going to die. Be in darkness forever. Thats where he would go in the afterlife, to a field of nothing but darkness, his fears. His chuckles turned into loud, hysterical laughs that he could no longer control. Everything he had held back for so long ran away from him and burst into laughter. He didnt care if by chance an animal of some sort happened to hear him. He knew nothing was out here in the plain white. Nothing at all. Except himself, and he was glad for it. Death would be an easy thing. The darkness after would be harder.