The Fulgar Lupus *DISCONTINUED*

The Fulgar Lupus *DISCONTINUED*

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WpMetadataReadOngoing1h 50m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Aug 17, 2014
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Fiction
Paranormal
Sleep. The only escape, I Rosette Taylor, had from my life. It is a brief time spent in a deep abyss, where at the snap of my fingers, all would be as I want it. However, the paradise of sleep for the living is brief. Temporary. You cannot hide yourself from your problems. Sleep isn't meant for that purpose. Sleep is meant to rejuvenate, to refresh, energize one's self in an imaginary paradise, so that each day you can once more, fight your problems. At least, that is what I think, what I hope. A hope I cannot achieve. For I have been fighting these problem for fourteen years, since the day I was brought unto this earth, and I have grown tired and weary of it. Sleep is now my only option no matter how brief. And though I am young wolf, full of life, I am eagerly awaiting the time of my eternal slumber.
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#236
stabbing
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#7 in vampire #1 in queen The world has gotten boring to him after living for many centuries, through many generations. He thought of it as a curse. His gift was anything but a gift, in his opinion. He loved killing people. He always has. He enjoyed seeing the life being drained out of them, quite literally. He always drank every last drop of their life essence, he didn't have mercy. Though he was the king there was something he could never have unlike others of his kind. A soulmate. He hadn't been turned or born from vampire parents. No, he was born a monster from human parents. The first of his kind. Why he was born like it, he didn't know. He didn't care. All he knew was that he wanted to die already, since he had no mate to look forward to. He lived because he couldn't die, at least not physically. He had no reason to live, but many reasons to die and even though he tried many times by many methods, none of them suceeded. He staked himself, on multiple occasions. It felt like a needle piercing his skin. He hung himself. He didn't die, but he hung there, very much conscious. He went on the gillotine. It made his body dissapear and reappear in the same spot he was born in. He took his heart out. He grew one back. He bled out. His blood regenerated. He used silver stakes. They burned his flesh. He overdosed. It did nothing since drugs, alcohol and other dangerous things do absolutely nothing to him, except get him under the influence to a certain level. But none of them filled the emptiness in his heart. He just needed her. But all he got were unimportant girls he used and forgot about. He never felt anything for them. He couldn't. But then on that day while he was walking around a small town's forest, he felt the emptiness slowly being filled up a bit. He stood there in shock. He couldn't believe it. He almost cried of happiness, right then and there. He had her. He had a mate. His mate. His one and only mate. His Queen.

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