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The Enchantress

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27 November 2009, 05:39 AM   #1
Joined: 12 Jul 2008
Posts: 229

Drake stood outside on Burbon St. in New Orleans, Louisiana. He was wondering whether or
not to go inside the store Sweets and Suites, a hotel/ candy and coffee shop. Through the
window Drake could see tan flooring, warm, gloden-brown walls, and brown booths. The
tables were rusted brown wroth-iron and old. Inside, faint rock music was playing. The
store was open, but he didn't see anybody in there.
  He pushed the door open. He was here alone, outcasted from France by his family who
thought he was too irresponisble. There was more to that story, also. He was--is--also a
thief. He will tell the truth no matter what, but he will steal. And he's so
short-tempered he would act first and think later. Another reason they sent him. His mom
hopes he will find a girl that will calm and settle him down,
  The door jingled. A tiny, elfish but sweet-faced chocolate brown girl popped up. She
barely reached over the counter, but her features said that she was older than fifteen.
Not yet twenty, though. She blinked her chocolate brown eyes at Drake. He noticed the long
lashes that framed them, so thick and long they created a perfect crescent on her high
cheekbones. They gave her a look of pure innocence, although her devillish grin said
  "Hello. Welcome to Sweet Suites! I'm owner and the only worker as of now, Trixie Ray. We
offer coffee, candy, cookies, and hotel rooms. Now what would you like, sugah?" She had a
sweet voice, a southern drawl that was warm like melting honey. Drake found himself moving
closer to her, seemingly drawn in by her voice, her looks, and her body language that
seemed to invite him in. Or was he imagining things?
  "Hello, Trixie Ray. I'm Drake. I want a coffee, black, a hotel room....oh, yeah, and you
on the bed naked," he said, winking at her. Another one of his problems was that he was a
big flirt and not committed to any girl. Yeah, he was a player. No, he didn't mind it.
   "Five dollars, seventy-five dollars, and I'm too high for you sweetie," she said
sweetly, her voice still like melting honey, except it seemed a bit annoyed. "Can't I find
one boy that won't fall for me the minute he sees me?" she muttered under her breath.
   "Vain aren't we?" Drake asked, raising his eyebrow.
   "Didn't you see the sign on the door? You realize that means I'm not even safe from gay
boys. They fall for me, too." She sounded exasperated, irritated even. She began to fix
his coffee. 
   Drake spotted her wallet on the table behind her. With her back turned, he reached over
and snagged it with the quite and quickness of a thief. 
   "And, sweetie, unless you want my foot up your butt, you betta put mah wallet down,"
she said sweetly over her shoulder.
   "What?" Drake had been watching her every move. Her head was turned. "How did you...?"
Stunned, he put the wallet down. He stole a glance at it though. It seemed to fit her
personality. Ruby red, glittery, and small. Easy to tuck away without being seen.
   "I have my ways, hunny. Here's ya coffee." She handed him the warm cup. "How long you
gone be stayin'?"
   She sat down across the counter from him and stared into his eyes. 
   Drake's eyes became big and blank. He felt a bit thrown off by her glance, but he also
felt invited to talk. "Well, I don't know Trixie Ray, but I definitely have the money to
stay for a good three months. Hoepfully I don't have to bother you that long."
   "Won't be a problem, hun, if you keep ya hands to yaself, and don't use any five-finga
discounts," she said, winking at him. She tapped her nails on the counter. Vaguely, Drake
notices they were bright red and sparkly, like her wallet. 
   "I'm sorry. I won't steal from you ever again, Trixie Ray. My promise," he said,
putting two fingers up in a peace sign. 
  "We'll see," Trixie Ray said doubtfully, expressing herself. She leaned across the
counter. "Honey, don't lie to Trixie Ray. That's the biggest mistake you'll evuh make."
She drew her ruby red nail across his cheek. A faint scratch appeared. Oddly, it didn't
hurt. But blood came down his cheek. "Oh, shoot, look what I've done!"
  She got up, seeming weary and upset, anxious. He reached over. He didn't like this side
of her. He wanted to comfort her, hold her. "It's okay, Trixie Ray, it's okay," he
comforted soothingly. 
  She grinned. "I know." She touched his cheek again, palm to palm. A warm tingle ran from
her hand to his cheek. It prickled for a few moments. Then, a hot electric bolt ran
through both of the. "Well I nevuh," Trxie muttered softly, removing her hand. "Are you an
Enchanter?" Her voice was suspicious.
  "No. Are you an Enchantress?" Drake's voice was wobbly, weary, and down-right
frightened. Who was this girl? This Trixie Ray that had him ready to pledge his heart in a
couple of seconds.
  "Yeah. Didn't you see the sign outside the shop?" she asked, looking towards the
windows. "The heart with the music note on top of it."
  "That's the sign? What's it mean?"
  "We're singers, somewhat. We sing to the heart. Singing refers to music notes, and the
heart, well, it's a heart. So that's how that came to be." She sighed softly, almost
sadly, and sat back down in her chair. "Are you okay? Do you still want to stay here?"
  Drake was surprised. "Why wouldn't I? I mean, long as you don't try to sleep with
me---wait, what the hell am I saying? Sleep with me!" he said, reaching over the counter
to kiss her.
  She laughed. "I have my scruples, silly boy. And I tend to stick to them. So, please,
don't tempt me. I'm not a virgin either, so I'm very easy to tempt." She winked. "And you
don't want me. I'm a mean, dirty, bitch. I sleep with you, make you fall in love with me,
and then dump you. I can't tell you how many boys have died at my hands, or at their own,
because I dumped them."
  Drake shrugged. "Doesn't sound to bad." He smiled.
  "You don't understand," she growled. She leaned across the counter, face angry and
tight. "I am dangerous. I don't mean for those guys to kill each other. I'm giving you
this warning because I don't want you dead, you jackass. If you had any sense, you'd leave
now. A little less sense, then you'd take this room and not talk to me every again except
to give your order, pay for the room, and to tell me bye when you go." Her voice was hard.
   Drake heard the warning. "Fine. I'm not stupid, but I'm still talking to you."
   "Whatever. Here's ya freakin' keys. And, the room's on the third floor.
Congradulations, you're the first guest in the hotel!" She smiled, but her eyes were
watery like she was about to cry. 
   "Good night, Trixie. I never told you my name. It's Drake."
   "Drake the Player, it has a ring to it. Good night, Drake."
   He stared at her. She was cute, she was dangerous, she was difficult, too. But she had
a bit of mystery that other Enchantresses didn't have. But how did she know him so well?
   It was something to think about.

27 November 2009, 04:41 PM   #2
Joined: 12 Jul 2008
Posts: 229
Chapter One Part Two

Trixie stared at Drake's retreating figure. Just from the way he walked, the way he
talked, she could tell so much about him. And that was without her power. Trixie liked to
think it was a women's intuition, but she didn't dwell on it. She had many things to do.
  From Drake's walk she could tell he was a thief--he had a quiet smoothness. From his
manner, too--innocent eyes and a convincing voice. From the way his body was built, she
could tell he had lived on a farm or dealt with some kind of animal--bull, horse, cow,
etc. Also from his body she could figure out he was a bad boy. He didn't use his body for
good. Only to get what he wanted, which is why she didn't sleep with him. It didn't take
much to figure out he was a lady's man, a player. All she had to do was talk to him.
  Trixie chuckled. "But he does make good conversation," she said quietly. 
  Despite her warnings and calling him stupid, she was happy he had come. Not many boys
would've come to the hotel. Not cute ones anyway. Old, perverted men who wanted sex
because they were ugly and their wives were dead and couldn't get them none. How was she
supposed to deal with that? Trixie didn't want anything from them--which is why she didn't
sleep with them. If they pushed her or tried to rape her, she played the innocent girl and
screamed. Then, the Council came and killed the man.
  The Council were the Protectors of each Enchater and Enchantress. Most people believed
that each Enchanter didn't have any morals. But they did. They didn't sleep with anybody.
Just people who caught their fancy. Trixie was known not to sleep with that many boys. She
had never slept with a girl. Trixie would rather die than to do that. Truth was, Trixie
was the slightest bit girlaphobic. 
  Enchanters and Enchantresses were immortals. To go more into detail, they had the power
of Seduction. They could make you  do anything at anytime with a bit of their eyelashes.
Some you didn't need to worry about because thier powers weren't that high. Others, like
Trixie, didn't have to do anything but be in your prescene. Being in high power was hard.
Trixie was tired of people--boys and girls--falling for her.
  Most of the Enchanters and Enchantresses weren't even pretty. Trixie was a rare
exception. Not that she cared. She would've been happy to marry a nice, cute boy, and die
at seventy. Why live for ever? Why the heartbreak of seeing your family die? Your twin
sisters, dying at 80, while you're still 19. 
  She shook her head in frustration, brown eyes glittering dangerously. When she got
angry, it was best to stay at least 10 miles away. She was lethal, she was dangerous, and
she was scary. Her power hit an all-time high. It attracted every guy within five miles.
Alll in her shop, all wanting to please her.
  Shaking off the angry and trying to pull her powers back, it was too late. Men flooded
in and out from every age. Women too. They weren't scared of her. They all wanted to have
her, hold her, screw her. She shrieked. She needed to get to a phone and call the
Council--they cleaned up messes like this. Where was her phone? Somebody grabbed her
wrists. She saw a manicured white tip.
  She screamed all the louder.
  The woman pressed her against the wall. The woman looked happy, blissful even. Trixie
looked scared--her brown eyes were wide, the pupils huge, her mouth was opened in a
scream, her face stretched in that scream. She thrust her hands forward to push the woman
away. The woman stumbled but smiled and took the push for pleasure.
  "Get the hell offa me!" Trixie screamed. She kicked the woman. Please don't kiss me,
please don't kiss me, she whispered feverently.
   She looked over at the crowd for help. She spotted a head of shaggy blonde hair coming
down the steps. Drake. He had on nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. His muscles were
compact, his biceps pretty big. He looked like he had had a few moments of sleep before
her screaming started. When did he go up? She checked the clock on the wall. Wow. An hour
  A sudden warmness by her lips snapped her into focus. The woman.
  "Drake!" Trixie shrieked, punching the woman. But Trixie wasn't that strong. The woman
looked angry.
  "Bitch, kiss me," the woman said.
  "Hell no! My boyfriend's here!" Trixie said, looking for Drake desparately. He was
pushing and shoving his way through the crowd to get to her. Please hurry.
  "I don't give a damn. I can make you feel better than he can," the woman said, looking
annoyed but smiling.
   "Hurry the hell up, Drake!" Trixie shouted in annoyance. "I don't want to kiss her!"
   "Kiss me, kiss me!" voice shouted, trying to push past Drake to Trixie.
    Drake got punched. It didn't look like it hurt, but he still rubbed his jaw. He took a
deep breath, grabbed the man that had punched him, and threw him into the wall.
Trixie--and the woman--watched in shock. Drake turned to Trixie, well, the woman really
and glared at her. "Bitch, get your hands off my girlfriend. Or you'll be thrown through
the window and into the muddy Mississippi. Got it? I can take all of you assholes. Now get
the fuck out of here." His voice was low, dangerous, a deathly growl. Trixie had the
admire that.
  But the woman hadn't let her down yet. "I'm getting my kiss."
  Trixie kicked and thrashed, but the woman still came close. Trixie was crying and
screaming. She closed her eyes, waiting for it to over. Then, she hit the ground with a
thud, landing on her butt. She opened her eyes. Drake had the woman by her neck. She was
purple in the face. Drake was glaring at her. "I told you to leave. I told you I'd kill
you. I can break your neck right now if I wanted to--crush your skull into a million
pieces. Do you want that?" he told her.
  She shook her head. "My wife," she wheezed.
  "It's husband and two kids. And I'm not fond of lesbians. What could you do that will
make me let you live? I don't know. Nothing perhaps. But since my girlfriend's watching
and she looks scared enough, I'll let you go, okay?"
   She nodded.
  "But you have to apologize. Try running and I'll catch you. Simple as that. Touch my
girlfriend, and I'll kill you. Ever come here again, I'll kill you even more." He lowered
her down, crossed his arms, and glared.
   Trixie stood up. She didn't like to be looked down upon when people talked to her. Hard
to do since she was 5'0. As the woman stuttered an apology, Trixie watched Drake. He
looked like the Terminator. Or someone equally as scary. Where did he get the strength?
   The woman ran out the door and down the street. Everybody else followed her lead. Quiet
and shaking, Trixie went to lock up. She looked tired, bags under her eyes. Her throat
burned from screaming. She had the feeling she would burst into tears. She was strong, she
wouldn't cry. She couldn't cry. Not in front of Drake.
  She stood facing the opposite of Drake. She let a small tear fall. She wiped her eyes
and turned around. She tried to run past him, but he grabbed her in a bear hug. "Are you
okay?" he asked. Real concern was in his voice. 
  She nodded. "Fine," she said, voice breaking. She shivered. The tears came angrily,
rushing down her face like an angry stream.
  He picked her up without thinking about it. She was so small. He carried her upstairs
into his room. He laid down on the bed, pulling her on top of him. But sex was the
furthest thing from his mind, Trixie could tell. He just wanted her to smile.

27 November 2009, 05:08 PM   #3
Joined: 12 Jul 2008
Posts: 229
Chapter One Part Three

"So what happened?" Drake asked as her tears finally stopped.
  He sat up, letting her stay encircled in his arms. She sighed. "When I get angry, my
power rises to its top. Meaning, I attract every person within five miles. Good thing for
me, you were here. Thanks by the way."
  "No problem." 
  She wiped her eyes. "Anyway, all those people rushed in. That woman somehow got to me
first. I'm girlaphobic. I hate women, girls, and even little kids that are girls. I don't
take anything from them if I need to use my body to get it. And lesbians freak me out even
  He squeezed her gently. He was happy he had been there, too. He was so happy. He didn't
want her hurt. Trixie was too small, too cute, too innocent to be hurt. And the thought of
that woman.....later, he would find her and kill her. But not now. Wait till he got Trixie
safe and sleeping. Those other people, he wouldn't kill them. They were caught in her
trap. But he had expereince with Enchantresses before. After they push you away, the
connection is broken. The woman still wanted her, still wanted to fuck her. 
  And that pissed him off.
  And you didn't want to piss off Drake.
  "I could still go kill her for you," he whispered by her ear. His warm breath fanned her
ear, making her get pleasureable goosebumps up and down her arm. He smiled at that.
  "You couldn't find her," she mumbled.
   "I could, too." 
   "Well don't go killer, please," she muttered. "You should've been the first person down were the closest to me. Why didn't you come?"
   "What're you talking about? I didn't feel anything. I came because I heard you
screaming." He was stunned.
   "You shouldn't have heard me screamin' either. Everybody else was too loud. How did
you....?" She seemed confused. Then her eyes lit up. "You're a Tracker!" she hissed.
   He didn't like the way she said it. He dropped his arms and got up. He glared at her.
When he got angry, it was an entirely different matter. He didn't attrack hoards of men or
women. Not at all did he do that. 
  He killed.
  Trixie seemed unaware of that fact as she got up, glaring at him. "Why didn't you tell
me? Where is your Tracker Tattoo?" she asked, searching his bae chest and arms for it.
  "On my back," he growled shortly.
  She looked at it, confused. It wasn't the regular sign she saw. She knew what it was.
Her twin sisters, Trinny, was a witch doctor/tattoo maker. She made the signs out of magic
for the Trackers. And the normal sign was a compass or something else that had to with
Tracking. But his was....different. It was the sign of a knife with blood dripping down.
  He was a killing Tracker. 
  Her eyes widened. She removed her hand and backed away, towards the door. Drake whriled
around. He smirked. "Don't like what you see? Yeah, I'm a Killer, sweetie. It's what I was
born to do. I can't help no more than you can help all the boys falling for you." He
sounded smug.
  "But I've dealt with Trackers before. Even one time a Killing Tracker. They've all fell
for me. Why not you?" She was confused, Drake could tell in her face. 
  "Maybe because I'm just as bad as you are with people falling in love with me, Trixie.
I'm sexy, muscled, and tall. What girl--straight or not--wouldn't fall for me?" He flexed.

  Trixie stared at his muscles, wanting to rub them and feel them underneath her hand. She
wanted to rest her head against them again. Those biceps, those hony-colored biceps. Oh,
Sweet Jesus. They had her imagining things she normally wouldn't have imagined.
  Drake smirked. He could see it in her eyes. For once, she was not the one being wanted.
She was hungry for him. Not surprising. Trixie's eyes were as big as Texas and as dazed as
if she had been looking at the sun. He kept his distance, though. "The wanted becomse the
wantee," Drake said.
  Trixie shook her head. "Uh-huh. Wait....what?" She was confused.
  Drake shook his head. "You want me, don't you?"
  She nodded.
  "I expected you to lie."
  "Why would I? I have no reason to. One thing I don't do is lie, Drake."
   He smiled and shrugged. "Suit yourself."
   He was standing in front of the door. He was a Killing Tracker. He was angry with her.
She had to get out. But how without getting herself killed?
  "So, Drake, how ya likin' ya room? I designed these myself," she said weakly. She
cleared her throat and stepped closer to the door.
  "They're good."
  "Well, that's nice. When did you become a Tracker?"
  "I was born with it."
   Mono tone. He needed to be distracted.
   "Do you believe in God?" she asked.
   "Yeah. He's what keeps me grounded."
   "I do, too." Not strong enough. "Are you a virgin?"
    He at least looked surprised. "Sort of. Half way."
    "Not gonna think about that." She was so close to running past him and to the door.
She needed one big distraction now. "Wanna sleep with me tomorrow night?"
   He was still. She took the chance to run past him and out the door. 
   He could catch her. He just watched her, though. And chuckled. Trixie Ray, sweetie,
you have a lot to learn about Trackers if you want to survive, baby girl. But I'll be here
for you. You can count on that.

27 November 2009, 05:31 PM   #4
Joined: 12 Jul 2008
Posts: 229
Chapter Two

Trixie took a shower. Today was Sunday. Her shop was closed. She wasn't going to church.
She decided to pray right there. She was a Christian. She had to be. She was a terrible
person. She had to have some way to get rid of her burdens and sins. Christ was the way. 
  She dressed in black fishnet stockings, a tight red and black fluffed out mini-skirt,
and a red, breast-showing tank. She put on some red ankle socks and decided on no shoes.
She went into the shop and fixed her a mocha with extra caramel and made some muffins. She
was scared to go to Drake's room, so instead she called up there. It was eleven o'clock,
he should be up.
  Sure enough, he was up, cartoons playing in the background. The TV went silent so she
assumed he muted it. "Hello?"
  "Uh, Drake, um, muffins. Coffee. Breakfast. You in?" she asked. "Gotta come down here,
  He chuckled. "Sure. I'll be there in a minute."
  She hung the phone up, feeling giddy and carefree for some reason. She sat at the
counter. Trackers scared her, but they were there for a reason. Enchanters and
Enchantresses weren't. Only to be used for sluts. For hoes. Like they didn't have any
morals. She shook off the anger before it came. Like she needed a repeat of what happened
last night.
  "What flavor muffins you have?"
  His voice came from nowhere. She gave a mouse-like squeak and jumped. Her muffin flew.
Drake caught it easily and handed it back to her with a sweet smile. "Here ya go. Sorry
'bout scarin' ya like that."
  She shook her curls out. "I'm fine. No problem. Thanks. We have strawberry, blueberry,
and cranberry with almonds."
  "Cool." He took two strawberries and a blueberry. "This for me?" He pointed to the black
coffee on the counter.
   She nodded.
   She had placed it on the counter as far from her as she could get him without lookind
rude. He looked at the distance between themselves, smiled, and sat right next to her. His
warm body warmed her, making those goosebumps rise again. She wanted to lean against him.
Until she remembered he was a killer.
  The next five minutes were agonizing hell. One part of her mind was telling her 'Bitch,
you need to lean against him. He's a good man and he's cute!' and the other part was
saying, 'Oh hell no! He's a killer! What's not to say he's going to kill you and take
everything you ever worked for?' Meanwhile, he chatted pleasently, seemingly oblivious to
her discomfort. She stood still, not touching him, not even moving.
  He looked at her. Pain flew across his features briefly. "Sorry." He got up.
  Her heart melted. "No, you can stay! I'm fine. Promise. My honor." She used his line,
holding up the peace sign.
  He smiled. "Okay." He sat next to her. "So, about that questions last night....were you
  She froze. Then laughed. "That was an escape tactic to get through the door and past you
because I was scared of you."
  He got up from beside her and stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "It
worked. To a degree. I could've caught you." His warm breath fanned against her ear again,
making her want to melt like warm honey. "Am I really so scary?" he asked.
  She closed her eyes. "No. Not really."
  "Then why are you scared? Because I'm a killer? I won't hurt you, Trixie Ray, I wouldn't
do it." His voice was so smooth. He reached over to where there was melted chocolate. He
dipped his finger in it. "Taste."
   She had never actually tasted it when it came out of the pot before. She opened her
mouth and sucked on his finger. She trembled against him as he removed his finger. Oh,
Lord, what have You done? Why did You have to send me this beautiful person that makes me
feel this way?
  "Now I'm not so scary am I?" he said, grinning at her. 
   She shook her head. "And about last night," she started off, "that question. I think I
meant it."
   "I knew you did."
   And he kissed her.

1 December 2009, 12:35 AM   #5
Joined: 12 Jul 2008
Posts: 229
Chapter Two Part Two

Trixie was scared. And hurting. She took a look at her body. It was still intact, but it
felt crushed. She wanted to cry. But she didn't want to. She wasn't a virgin. So it
couldn't have been the morning after pain. No, it was something else....
  Her heart.
  Last night she could feel it, feel him. He wanted something more. But he got her. He had
expected that she would be something better, something more. It would be better for her
somehow. More intense, the best. But it wasn't. She wasn't good at that sort of thing.
  A sob erputed from her chest, overwhelming her. She had to get out. Had to.
  Drake woke up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and glanced at her sleepily. "Trixie?" He
sounded weary.
  "Leave me alone!" she sobbed. She grabbed her clothes and ran.

It had been three long, awkward days for the two. People had come and gone in Trixie's
shop. Trixie went all out of her way to not touch Drake. She froze everytime he was near
and the only thing he could think was, "How bad was the sex?"
  He watched her out of the corner of his eye. He hadn't been out on Burbon Street since
his first day and even then he didn't get to experience it. Trixie needed to let loose. It
was closing time anyway. A woman stepped in. He recognized her. She was tall, short, at
the top of her neck black hair with a few grays, tight, determined green eyes,
longmanicured nails. She couldn't be younger than forty-three. She was wearing a red dress
that clung to her body in curves that would've turned a man on, if not for the fact she
was old.
  She was the woman who had tried to get Trixie.
  And that pissed him off.
  But he waited, watching. As the door jingled, Trixie did not look up from wiping the
counters with the intenseness she got when alone with him. That was a sign. Don't talk to
me, don't touch me. I'll just ignore you. So he didn't talk to her. Trixie started a big
grin until she saw the woman. Then she cast a desperate glanc around. Her eyes spotted
Drake's and they got wider, more scared.
  He tried to catch her eye. He'd be there for her no matter what. He wouldn't just sleep
with her. She was so tiny, so elfish, so child-like....
 The woman never noticed him. She wouldn't have. He sat far in the darkest corner, quiet
and deadly looking. Trixie looke dat the woman, her voice small and quiet. "What can I get
for you, ma'am?" she asked quietly.
  The woman reached across the counter and snatched her. Trixie screamed.
  Drake got up, anger pulsing through him hot and uncontollable. He stalked forward,
seeing nothing but red. The woman's dress. And her blood. He heard the woman distantly.
Trixie's scream were buried deep within him, awakening this madness, this anger. The woman
paled. She dropped Trixie and ran.
  Drake made it to the door before her. He blocked it, locked it, and pushed her down.
With agile, quick movements, he put the blinds down, making sure they were not seen. 
  He grabbed the woman by the throat. "I'm killing you. So pray to whoever you believe
will save your horrible soul, you pedophile. I told you to get your lesbian ass out of
here and never come back again." His voice was a low growl that had Trixie' trembling.
"This is how I'm going to kill you. I'm going to slowly crush your skull--enough to cause
you intense pain that will not kill you quickly, but still have you concious to hear me.
Then, I will start to tell you how worthless you are while slowly adding pressure to your
arm until it breaks. Finally, I will seek out your wife and kill her in front of you.
Then, I will proceed to kill you. But, first, I know where your wife is. Let me go get
here. I don't trust you with Trixie, therefore I'm going to tie you up." He tied her to
the pole tightly and left. 

Trixie watched in horror as he worked. He did exactly what he said he did. He was now
trying to figure out how to kill the woman's wife. He was a Killing Tracker. It was
normaly for him. And.....well, in a way, the woman deserved it. Trixie was no help to him
either. She was huddled in the corner as far away as possible.
  "Hmmm, I could drain her blood. Nah, that'll be a slow death and I'm too impatient for
that," he said, shrugging. "Ah, well, I'll just snap her neck. Last words?" He held the
woman's wife at arm's length by the neck.
  "I love you, Harriet," the woman said. She looked to be about the same age as Harriet
except with more gray hair and more wrinkles.
  "I love you, too, Monica," the Harriet said. She was crumbled on the ground, moaning in
  "Gross," Drake said. He snapped her neck easily and threw her over his shoulder.
   Harriet shrieked. She knew, as Trixie knew, the end was near. Drake grinned--a truly
evil, sinister grin that had Trixie shaking even more than she was. His hands tightened on
the woman's neck slowly. Trixie shut her eyes in horror and heard the snap. Harriet--and
Monica--were both dead. 
  And Trixie was sick, so sick. She had to throw up. She pushed her way to the back, bile
rising up in her throat. She puked. It came out of her stomach, burning her throat,
leaving the nasty taste in her mouth. She rinsed her mouth then spit it out. The pictures
went through her head so quickly, making her sicker. She heard Drake leave, and then her
come back. 
  When he came back he grabbed her around the waist, grabbed the cash register, and took
off running. "We have to go!" he said quietly, slipping through the back door. 
  Trixie was scared but she let him take her into the dark night, away from the Burbon
Street lights and good times, away from her shirt, and away from everything she had knew.
She leaned onto his shoulder and cried silently, letting him carry her.

2 December 2009, 10:50 PM   #6
Joined: 12 Jul 2008
Posts: 229
Chapter Two Part Three

Trixie was curled against Drake's chest, thumb in her mouth. She was sleeping. He had his
hands placed right on her flat stomach, holding her close. He had snuck into his parent's
house last night. After a shared shower between him and Trixie, they grabbed some clothes
they snuck in and got dressed. Now, they were in his old room. Supposedly sleeping. 
  But Drake couldn't sleep. Not with Trixie so close to him, looking so fragile and sweet,
so child-like. He moaned quietly, but didn't remove her from his grip. He thought about
that night. Bad idea. His hand slid up her shirt, rubbing soothing circles onto it. Her
hand moved to cover his. He smiled and buried his face into her neck. 
  It was so wrong.
  While she was sleeping.
  It was disgusting.
  She was sleeping!
  But he could use his keep her asleep. Make her think it was a
  It was wrong. So, terribly, wrong.
  He moaned in agony.
  Did he?
  He didn't!
  He couldn't...
  A whimper etched deep inside of his throat.
  He had to...
  He felt it..
  Deep inside...
  He wanted to.
  He did.

3 December 2009, 08:23 PM   #7
Guest Poster i don't know what to think except for the fact that you
need to right more..........

4 December 2009, 03:59 PM   #8
Joined: 12 Jul 2008
Posts: 229
Thanks I guess. Its a work in progress.

5 December 2009, 06:34 AM   #9
Joined: 12 Jul 2008
Posts: 229

Trixie rolled over. Why was she naked?
  She stretched, trying to remember. Nothing came to her.....odd. She got out of the bed
careful not to jostle the still sleeping Drake. He looked tired. He whimpered softly
seemingly scared. He reached out towards her side of the bed. "Trixie," he whimpered.
"Sorry. So....sorry..." The rest were mumbles.
  "You're forgive. For whatevuh ya did," Trixie drawled, patting his hand. "Drake? Hon,
wake up? Ya havin' a bad dream." She shook him gently.
  He got up quickly, leaving her disoriented and breathless. He looked around. Then his
eyes settled on her, flashing guilty. "I didn't mean were called to
me in your sleep...complete lack fo control......"
  "What? Drake? I'm not comprehendin', hunny," she said, sitting on the bed.
  "While you were sleeping I.......raped you pretty much. Which is why you're naked. I
used my powers to---Trixe?"
  Her eyes flashed bright red. Her face was set in a dangerous expression. This was past
mad, it was ready-to-kill-that's-how-fucking-mad-she-was. Her fist clenched as her body
went rigid. She shook her hair out at him. "You what?" Her voice was low, dangerous,
seething, and angry.
   Drake gulped and swalloed. "Trixie, it was really your fault! I mean---"
   "My fault?" she growled. "Mine?" she added in a shriek. "You ignorant mother fucker!
You raping bastard! You jackass!" Curses came from her mouth in a steady stream. "I can't
believe you!"
   She let out a feral snarl that was very un-Trixie like. Then with a movement quick like
his, she lunged forward. 
   Her hands wound their way around his neck, cutting off his air circulation. She bit his
shoulder while kicking him where it hurt. The anger raged on, hot and red. She saw red.
She felt red. She thought of blood. It had a sort-of appeal to it. Not a vampire
blood-thirsty appeal, but more like a killing appeal. She removed both hands. With her
left she delivered blow after blow to the side of his face. With her right she scratched
him down his chest, drawing blood with her ruby colored nails.
  Soon, though, she tired herself out. He was bloody, bruised, and beaten. But she felt
good. The anger receded, the red coils drawing back from her heart. She grabbed a towel
and took a quick shower before getting dressed. She didn't have many options here. So she
chose the sexiest outfit she could go for. A tight black mini-skirt, knee-high black
socks, black high-tops, and a blue spaghetti-strap tank. She pulled her hair into two
pigtailss held their by a spare pony-tail she found.
   When she came out of the bathroom, Drake was waiting at the door with a towel. He was
fully dressed. He avoided her gaze. She advoided his. She went to the corner of the room
where the sofa was and waited. Drake took awhile. Probably trying to survey the damage.
She grinned, a semi-evil grin that would've made people cower.
   She thought about her anger. Thank God nobody was in the house. Where was his family?
Oh, yeah, family vacation. If they were here.....well, that would've not have been good.
  Drake finally came out. He had chosen a pair of loose, baggy dark blue jeans and
high-tops. He wore no shirt and she could see the damage. He had three long cat marks
going down his chest, and a bruise on the left side of his face. He also had her fingers
imprinted on his neck in a bruise. She didn't realize her on power.
  But something else caught her attention.
  His chest and hair.
  His hair was wet and stringy, falling into his face wildly. As he shook it out, it gave
him the look of a young boy at about age ten. His chest was still dripping with water. And
it was musuclar. A small drop of water fell down his chest and to the floor, leaving a
path. Trixie fought the urge to go kiss that path.
  She turned her head away from him.
  "Trixie, we have to go. Soon. Dad and Mom'll be home in about twenty minutes," he
stated. "Here, I'll carry you." 
  "I'm capable of walkin'," she snapped. "Plus, I wouldn't want anythang to happen and it
be my fault."
  Guilt, embarassement, and anger flashed in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Trixie, you can't be
mad at me forever. Now let's go." Without even listening to her protest, he scooped her
up, yanked up the window, and jumped out.

9 December 2009, 08:50 PM   #10
Guest Poster
.........................I don't really know what to say to that. I............

8 February 2010, 12:16 AM    #11
Guest Poster
I liked it. you need to write more.

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