darkSpyro

Or, well, it's the prologue. I hope it all fits! It's so freaking LONG!!! This is not my story, I don't have more, she just wants feedback on it. Please please PLEASE do NOT get off topic! Discuss the story if ya want, but do NOT get off topic! That means you NightBlade! No references to said 'disturbing series' that you love!!! No Pokemon! No other stories! No nada but talk of this one! GO!!!


Prologue
They had arrived. A woman, her husband and her son stepped out of their light blue Nissan LEAF, staring at the immensely beautiful white house in front of them. The little boy, his name Gabriel, sighed in wonder at it, restless to see the inside. His right thumb hung from his mouth in a habitual manner.
“Here we are,” His mother smiled. “Our new house, all bought and paid for.” Gabriel, who had been holding the woman’s hand tightly, broke off and ran into his new home. Just like any six-year-old with a love for exploration, he felt invigorated. He got through the front door and immediately shed his coat and mittens, shaking off his snow-covered boots. They landed on the new carpet, but he figured that it was nothing to worry about since the fabric’s white color matched the snow. He set off at once, running through the great maze of the house.He made a series of turns to try and get across to the other side of the place, laughing as he did so. He found his way into an office room that was empty save for a radiator and a lonely dark brown desk that sat in a corner. He settled down and huddled next to the radiator there, cold. His eyes, though, were alight as if on fire. He couldn’t wait to explore more of this big house, this mansion that his father had bought with the money from his new job. It was full of the unknown! It was just so big and mystifying… he had completely forgotten about his soggy mess in the entranceway. His mother, now coming through the front door, merely smiled, shook her head and picked up his things. She carefully placed them on the area in front of the unlit fireplace, which was made of pleasantly faded bricks, and headed to the kitchen.
Gabriel, in the meantime, had gone away from the radiator and was wandering the halls, his mouth dropped slightly. He came to a closed door, the only one closed in the house. Feeling curious, he proceeded to open it. There was a bed inside with his old favorite covers; astriking blanket with stars and moons. Beside the bed sat his toy box, a big black chest-looking container that just slightly overflowed enough so that it could not close. The ceiling, he saw as he looked up, was painted to have white stars stand out on the black paint of the room. He rushed in and jumped onto the bed, landing on his back, and he giggled. This room was amazing!He was astonishingly happy, having seen that his room had already been prepared; it was just as if he had unpacked and decorated it himself!
All of a sudden, however, his mood was flattened by the all too familiar sound of his father’s shouting.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” He screamed, and Gabriel trembled, knowing the undertones of that sound; his father meant business. When he shouted like that, there was going to be pain. Whenever he was angry with Gabriel’s mother, the man left her bruised and battered. She would come into Gabriel’s room at night, crying, to hold her baby. He took in a deep breath as he heard a smacking sound, realizing that his mother had just been slapped. His fear was forgotten in that moment as he heard his father whisper. “I should’ve known all along. You ****ing *****.” Now, he had heard this from the other side of the house; he went running, and found himself in the kitchen, seeing a red hand mark on his mother’s cheek, accompanied by tears. Gabriel shrieked, the cry of a despairing- or in his case, infuriated- child. The woman had a dark red fluid on the corner of her mouth, and because she was shocked, she had dropped what had been in her hands… a bag of blood. Gabriel’s eyes, bright as a cat’s, dilated as he smelledit. His mind flooded with one overwhelming thought; his stomach felt empty.
He turned to see his father, who grabbed him by the hair and picked him up before he could do anything. He couldn’t care because he was too distracted - anyone who struck his mother was whollyevil in his eyes. The fact that his father had done so in front of him had blown his mind. He didn’t scream, didn’t even squirm as his feet left the floor; instead, Gabriel glared defiantly at the father he’d thought he’d loved.The only sign of his pain was the grunt he gave when he was first picked up and the fact that he was wincing.
“You’re coming with me, you piece of ****.” His father growled in a lethal voice. Fear buried itself within the young boy ashis father carried him back to the office room. Then, pulling out a pair of handcuffs he had sneaked from his old job as a policeman, the man chained Gabriel’s arm to the heater.
“Richard!” His mother screamed. “What are you doing?” She had more tears in her eyes. Why is mother crying? Mother never cries…Gabriel’s thoughts raced. He cried out as his arm touched the high temperature of the heated metal, but he soon ignored the pain, watching his father.
“I’m doing what should have been done a long time ago, Nicole.” His father’s voice was now calm, but in a sickening way. There was a kind of loathing in it that made Gabriel shiver. “Now watch, child, as your mother gets what she’s had coming for years.” Richard withdrew a dagger, curved but jagged, from his coat. Why he had been carrying it was a mystery, but he took out a cask as well. He poured a black liquid onto the dagger. Nicole backed up in fear, her eyes wide.
“Richard…”
“Silence, witch!” He screamed, a wild fury in his bloodshot eyes. “If you run, he will pay your price.” He nodded toward his son. She had been backing up in horror, but now shestopped and nodded slowly, her face showing a new, forced look of resignation.
“Mother!” Gabriel cried, his own eyes welling up. He tried to leap at his father, but the handcuffs held firm and slammed him back into the radiator, which he only now realized was bolted to the floor. He cried out from the pain of the heat. His father grabbed Nicole by her hair and held up his hand, swiftly swiping the dagger across the woman’s throat. It was all it took, and in that small amount of time she lost all chance of survival. She began to choke, falling to the ground with her hands to her throat. Her beautiful bleach blonde hair was stained red with her dripping blood.
That hair… the scent of it had always comforted Gabriel. Just the sight of that long hair that fell below her shoulders had always brought him happiness, just as her eyes had, and now he cried in outrage at its red taint. The skin Richard had cut looked as if it were touched by acid, bubbling repulsively. Her cries fell silent as the bubbling slowed to a halt, and in that instant she was gone.
“And now you,” Richard smiled cruelly, turning to his son, who hissed at him. “You won’t die, don’t worry.” Before Gabriel could even begin to understand what the man meant, he shrieked in pure, inconceivable agony as the man slashed across the young child’s eyes, blinding him. “You won’t die,” he continued, as Gabriel writhed on the floor, “but you will never be happy, you filthy vampire.” Thus, the human man walked out, and left his little son clenching at his face, whimpering and bleeding insufferably on the cold ground of that office. He left him lying there, trapped with his murdered mother.

o.o woah.......AWESOME!

Yeah, I know. She's awesome, isn't she? I look up to her in the story writing world, although she DOES have a hard time matching my hilarity... All the same, now, on a rating from 1 to 10, ten the best story you've ever read, 1 it's crap.

I give it an 8, just because I've got my favorite series obsesion, and later in this story, the language gets all fancy... She tends to not repeat words like said very much at all. I'm pretty sure she barely uses said. It's confusing...

Oh, also, she's in 10th grade(I think? High school is confusing as he--), and she wants to be refered to as Jess B.

I agree...this make my stuff look like SugarHoneyIceTea

Mm. Makes everything I write but the Melocons story look that way too. *chews lip* Need more feedback. What's your favorite bit so far? No you can't love the entire thing. I mean, you CAN, but that's not a valid answer.
(look, I have to give her the link to this after more people read it, so come on! Critique it! Criticise! Feedback people!)

Good. Anyone else have ANYTHING to say?

I liek the mother being killed!*smiles like a deranged lunatic* I mean its sad the mother being killed but i liek the father's maliciousness and stuffs

*facepalms epicly* Oi... anyway, if no one has anythign else to say... I shall close this and give the link to mah fwiend.

Okay! So! My friend has made an account!But she's not confirmed yet, soooos... Here's the next chapter.
Well, chapter one. I think. That was just the prologue.

1

There he still sat. His eyes had partially healed, and he was gaining his ability to see back, but only slightly. Things were blurry, but it didn’t really matter since he could only see the cloth over his face. Gabriel sat hunched over, with his head resting on his knees in an attempt to warm himself. It was winter again, and of course the heater in this room had not been turned on since that day. He was lucky not to have gotten frostbite. His body was pale enough for anyone who saw him sitting there, still as he was, to believe him to be a frozen corpse. His lips were tinted blue from the cold, and cracked. His eyelashes had frost in them from the moisture of his eyes, which had a long scar across them from the incident. His father had taken a precaution to them, as well; because he could heal over time, his father had tied a kind of cloth over them. He had given up on the impossible task of taking the damned blindfold off a long time ago, grateful for the very little, precious warmth it gave him. After all, his father had never bought him clothes again, and he had long outgrown his childhood size; he now sat here, butt naked, trying not to freeze. His entire body was covered in scars from his long imprisonment, and he had tried many times to escape… but whenever the chain weakened, his father knocked him out cold and replaced it while he slept. It only served to make him feel all the more like a prisoner. Hell, he couldn’t remember how to get from this room to the front doorway; it had been too long, and he had only seen it once. How was he to get out without that knowledge? He was too weak to break any windows.
He had had a hard time staying awake for long periods of time ever since he had been ten. He just didn’t get enough food in his body to have energy for that. Hell, Richard only fed him human food, not blood… how was he supposed to get any stronger anyway? Human food did nothing for him except to take energy from him to digest. With hopelessness welling up inside him, he longed to cry, to feel some kind of reaction… but he had lost that blessed ability long ago. He could recall, now, how he used to weep every night for his dead mother… but that seemed like it had been in another lifetime. He thought of her now, and felt only a dull ache, numb as he was. It seemed as if the only strong emotion in him anymore was simple, unbridled hostility.
He had also tried, when he was younger, to scream as loudly as he could in the hopes that a neighbor would hear him. He had given that up when his father had laughed cruelly and explained how truly useless that was. He remembered the exact words that came with that cold voice…
Scream all you want, you good for nothing asshole! The man’s voice had had a repulsive kind of joy in it. No one can hear you. The room is soundproofed; nothing can be heard in or out of it.
He shuddered, and tried to ignore the stinging pain from all the open cuts he had on him; his father had enjoyed whipping him for the longest time, and had gone over time from using his belt to an actual bullwhip. He tried to stay as still as he could will his body to, but shivers inevitably came with the cold; all they did was cause him to move and irritate the cuts that lay scattered across his body. Not to mention the ache in his spine from sitting in this position for so long! He would love to stretch, if only it wouldn’t make him feel more pain, make him colder. Suddenly he heard the lock click, and lay down on the ground, curling up into the fetal position in what he knew was a fruitless attempt to protect himself. He bit his lip to keep quiet from the ache of his body. As if he could even call it a body anymore! The damn thing was just an overgrown wound.
“Well well. Still a little pussy, are you?” Richard sneered. Gabriel had gone too long thinking today for him to be in any kind of mood to tolerate the man’s petty insults; his thoughts always led to more rage.
“You’re the pussy, you son of a *****… hiding behind my blindness, a shackle, and a whip. I’m defenseless, I know it…you could do whatever you wanted to me. At least I have my honor.” He himself would never attack a person while they were down… his experience was enough to keep him from even considering that.
“Ha-ha! That’s rich.” Richard had a certain tone in his voice, a weary sound, and Gabriel recognized that he was safe for now. He could tell that his father had only just gotten home from work. The man was probably hungry and worn out. “I’ll leave you… for now. Just remember, vampire; I will be back… and you will pay.” He heard the footsteps and listened as the man walked out, still shivering from the biting cold of this room. He had paid, though for what he still didn’t know; didn’t ten years of unending suffering count for anything? He closed his eyes, tired. He had felt the rush of warmth from the open door, and tried to make himself believe that his body had that amount of heat in it. Distracted, he lifted his head slightly as he heard lighter, quieter footsteps. Hegave a half-smile as he realized that his favorite nightly visitor was here.

0.0 Must read moar!

Look for her username popping up here, most likely some time soonish. FlashFox, I think, or FoxFlash. One o them.

FoxFlash. She's here. Or should be. Actually, I'm betting she forgot to confirm her account.

the book is now in the topic Blind Trust.