Creature of the Night (A Rocky Horror and Frank N' Furter Fanfiction)

prologue

The night was pitch black.

It was usual, so deep within the trees where sound did not travel that the light would not travel either. It was usual, I could assume, for the night to completely consume the trees, the grass, the bushes. It was usual for the blackness to consume me in its deep, sensual embrace.

That was exactly the allure to them. The eeriness, the silence, and the cold, bitter darkness. The allure, to me.

I threw my head back, running my tongue over my teeth and smiling to myself. I let my lips twist into a sadistic smile. I made a mark on the page, attempting to retrace the soft silhouettes of the trees around me, attempting to capture their life upon my page.

It was incredibly difficult. Impossible, even. I could try to capture what I saw, but I almost never could. Life was, too beautiful, too precious. There was no way for charcoal and paper to recreate the beauties of life, no matter how hard I tried. No one could capture the very essence of our world. Or not of our world, for that matter.

I must have been there for hours.

I reached into my bag and grabbed my squished carton of cigarettes, lighting one and taking a large inhale. I smiled as the smoke curled from my mouth, feeling the nicotine run through my veins and the smoke from the fag cling to my skin. It was almost, orgasmic, and I never denied myself the pleasures of life, or cigarettes, for that matter.

The shapes around me warped. It took me a moment to realise, and I felt the air around me electrify. Hairs rose up on the back of my neck. I felt my skin rub against itself in a desperate, sinful way. The air made me feel, alive. So alive that I could tear apart any person I laid eyes upon next with just my thighs and tongue. I knew this feeling. A storm was coming.

Clouds swarmed overhead as. I packed up my things. A box of charcoal and a pack of cigarettes thrown into a shoulder bag. I tucked my sketch pad under my arm, and from there, I took off from my place.

Rain came down, gently at first, but then grew into catastrophe as I reached the edge of the clearing. I knew I was close to that mansion. The tall, creepy one that stood in the forest made of stone, completely abandoned. It had been there all my life. I chewed the end of my cigarette gently, rolling it between my teeth. Mud caked my booted heels.

I edged around the clearing, tiptoeing around the side until I made it about halfway over and snuck back into the woods. I knew the area well, I spent most of my time there.

Thunder rolled across the sky, shaking me to my core and the earth below me. I steadied myself against a tree, pulling the cigarette from my mouth and exhaling the smoke. Rain stuck and licked my skin, rolling down my face in beaded drops, my cig extinguishing with a curse. I let myself smile, turning my face towards the sky and allowing the rain to coat me.

Lighting stuck the ground not too far from me, setting fire to a tree. It was about five hundred feet in the distance. I could make the shapes out clearly, but the dark and the light of the fire seemed to create a sense of confusion and illusion. I panicked, turning my head towards the flames and saw a figure stand within the new smoke and flames. His head, basked in curls, turned upward, looking to the sky and extending his arm to the sky in anguish. A moment later, he collapsed.

I hadn't imagined it. My cigarette died out in the rain. I pulled it out of my mouth and tossed it to the ground, stepping on it and mixing it into the mud.

I took a step towards the fire. I stopped. Whatever I just saw, I had no way of knowing what it was. I had no way of comprehending what to do, or even if I could do it. Mud stuck to my soles, rain caressing my skin in forceful waves.

I stopped thinking and I ran, fire consuming my every step.