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BodyThe fire crackled in front of Targa, which felt distant in the chilling air of Hargeon. The night was a strange contradiction with the warmth of the fire and the cool snow drifting from above. She let her gaze wander over the people who had gathered. All of them strangers. The smell of marshmallows roasting and chocolate melting mingled with the crisp scent of the snow, reminding her of simpler times before becoming a vampire, back when she could digest such things. Now all she could stomach was alcohol and blood, or even better blood with a high alcohol content from an attractive lush.
Tonight was about horror stories, and the thrill of being just a little afraid. Targa listened to others telling stories as her pink eyes glinting in the firelight, her jet-black hair with its colored ends swaying slightly with the breeze.
"You know, back in Iceberg, we used to say the winter snow carries whispers from the past." Her voice just loud enough to be heard over the fire's crackling and the conversation of others around her. "The elders would tell us stories about spirits trapped in the cold, forever wandering, seeking warmth they could never have again. They said if you listened closely on winter nights, you could hear them calling, begging to be let inside...and if you fell asleep unprotected on those cold nights, they would enter you for warmth and posses you."
Targa's eyes narrowed slightly, a sly smile forming as she glanced at the people around the fire. "I've seen this with my own eyes. And what I saw... well, it wasn't human. It was tall, with eyes like pale blue fire, and its body was wrapped in tattered cloth, blowing in the wind. It looked at me...not like it was angry, but almost...sad. I remember thinking it wanted something from me. I was too scared to stay, so I ran. But every time the wind howls, I think about that spirit, alone in the cold, and I wonder what would've happened if I'd stayed."
Taking a sip of spiked juice she leaned back looking at the scared faces of the children, her fangs showing white in the light for added effect. "Anyway, that's my story," she said after a moment, a wicked smile dancing across her face. Looking at one frightened kid in particular she continued. "Maybe the snow tonight will bring whispers of its own for this is no mere story, but fact."
WC: 412
TWC: 412
Tonight was about horror stories, and the thrill of being just a little afraid. Targa listened to others telling stories as her pink eyes glinting in the firelight, her jet-black hair with its colored ends swaying slightly with the breeze.
"You know, back in Iceberg, we used to say the winter snow carries whispers from the past." Her voice just loud enough to be heard over the fire's crackling and the conversation of others around her. "The elders would tell us stories about spirits trapped in the cold, forever wandering, seeking warmth they could never have again. They said if you listened closely on winter nights, you could hear them calling, begging to be let inside...and if you fell asleep unprotected on those cold nights, they would enter you for warmth and posses you."
Targa's eyes narrowed slightly, a sly smile forming as she glanced at the people around the fire. "I've seen this with my own eyes. And what I saw... well, it wasn't human. It was tall, with eyes like pale blue fire, and its body was wrapped in tattered cloth, blowing in the wind. It looked at me...not like it was angry, but almost...sad. I remember thinking it wanted something from me. I was too scared to stay, so I ran. But every time the wind howls, I think about that spirit, alone in the cold, and I wonder what would've happened if I'd stayed."
Taking a sip of spiked juice she leaned back looking at the scared faces of the children, her fangs showing white in the light for added effect. "Anyway, that's my story," she said after a moment, a wicked smile dancing across her face. Looking at one frightened kid in particular she continued. "Maybe the snow tonight will bring whispers of its own for this is no mere story, but fact."
WC: 412
TWC: 412
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