say you'll remember me {andras} On November 07, 2017 at 9:27 PM by beylani

dance to the rhythm of your heartbeat

Who would have thought that getting lost in the big city would have turned out to be one of the most memorable nights she’d yet to have here in Sacrosanct? And it had all started with something as simple as a flyer advertising a costume party at a place in the north called “The Witchery”. She hadn’t been to the northern part of the city until tonight, but there was nothing that she regretted about her little adventure to the wealthier part of the concrete jungle that she was steadily beginning to feel at home despite it being perhaps the furthest thing from what the word “home” meant to the blue-eyed blonde. At first, she hadn’t truly considered going when she’d been handed that flyer by the woman dressed in a witch’s outfit that had been standing just outside the doors to the small grocery store that Beylani frequented, but it wasn’t like the young woman to decline accepting that black printed orange piece of construction paper offered to her by the friendly brunette that had been extending those invitations to any that might take them. She could remember looking down at that flyer as she climbed into the driver’s seat of her plain white four-door sedan, the warning voice of the fae man telling her to go wandering around at night in the city echoing within her thoughts as so noticed the times of the event, deducing that she would likely be making the journey home in the darkest part of the night. She’d almost disregarded the invitation to that party. Almost. After all, the young woman had never really been one for the party scene, but she wouldn’t be going for that reason but rather she’d be going with the hope that she might just make a new friend or two there. Well, that, and the fact that back home in Willowhaven, the closest thing to a costume party was a community banquet and country music. This had been a chance for Beylani to experience something new, and for the young woman, “new” meant “excitement” and the whole reason she’d moved to Sacrosanct was to see and feel as much as she could of what big city living had to offer her. It wasn’t like she had decided to just go wandering alone in the dark, or so she was able to reason with herself on.

It had been a moment in time that the young woman knew she would be reflecting on often, not only as she walked down the now quiet streets of Sacrosanct and towards Riverdale in the eastern part of the city but in the days that would come and go. She had been standing there beneath at elegant lamp post amid the extravagant shops and restaurants brought to life by light and the many voices of those who had gone out that night in celebration for the holiday. As seemed to be the norm for her, she had somehow managed to lose her way, unsure exactly where it was that The Witchery was settled – and of course like the sometimes ditzy girl she was, she had forgotten to grab the flyer to reference the address that had been listed on that brightly colored piece of paper. So, there she’d been, a lonely young woman looking every which way in hopes of seeing some brilliantly lit sign somewhere that would guide her to where she had been trying to get to. Having lost track of the time that had come and gone, it seemed only a matter of minutes passed before her lost expression had earned her the attentions and mercy of a stranger. An Asian woman had approached her then, perhaps not much older than herself if at all. This stranger soon came to offer Beylani her name after their brief exchange on directions to the well-known hotel she’d heard of once or twice before tonight; Miyako. The young woman had been warm and friendly, even offering the blue-eyed blonde an escort to The Witchery, which had certainly illuminated those bright baby blues with both relief and a newfound hope on accomplishing what she had yearned to do at the party being held. They hadn’t been alone for too long though, both women then being approached by a man with curly milk chocolate locks and eyes a rich, dark cocoa hue. He’d worn upon those masculine features a confidence that could not be missed even by one without sight. It could felt and heard in the way that he had spoken to Beylani and Miyako, falling from his strong frame effortlessly so much so that it seemed almost as though she could truly reach out and feel it. Unbidden, his very air had reminded her of the dark fae man that she had admittedly become quite fond of, and the silent wondering of where he was tonight had remained at the back of her thoughts for the entire duration of her adventure that thankfully did end up leading her to The Witchery where she’d danced and laughed to her heart’s content with her newest friend, Miyako.

The two women had parted ways not too long ago, having exchanged telephone numbers and a promise to get together for an afternoon brunch when neither of them were busy tending to their own lives. Beylani truly had no idea just how busy the woman’s life was, and in parting with Miyako she had hoped that having walked there to the party and spending the late hours of nightfall with the ever so curious woman of elegantly curled blonde locks tinged with milk chocolate undertones hadn’t caused the Asian woman to miss any previous arrangements she may or may not have had. She certainly hadn’t seemed bothered by the chance encounter that had led the two through the streets, talking contentedly to one another until the destination point had been reached. A smile dances across blush-colored lips as she walked down the paved path leading home, her mind again finding the fae man with that devilish grin and midnight tenor tones that she could almost hear now even though she knew fully and completely was nowhere to be found. She thinks back to when he had startled her beneath the beacon of light on some corner in the eastern part of the city, dark and eerily silent in the dead of that chilly autumn night. He had found her then without so much as a hint of where she’d gone and still she wondered how it was that he’d found her so easily, if perhaps it was because of the fact that he was a supernatural being or simply because… well, she couldn’t quite say. She wonders now where he was, who he might be with, if perhaps he was tending to business matters of whatever sort, still unsure of exactly what it was the mysterious man held as an occupation. So preoccupied within those thoughts of when she might see him next, caught up in the many countless questions she still desired to ask him about the fae race resurfacing to her forethoughts that she hardly notices a shadow in the dark alley only a short distance ahead of her now. If only she knew what, or rather who it was that would soon have her wishing she’d not been so foolish as to be so caught up in such trivial things in the dark very much alone…

She is nearly past the alleyway, the sparkling fabric of her Tinkerbelle costume catching the light from the street lamp a few yards behind her now, when the shadow stirs and there is an icy chill that touches her skin. She hesitates now in her steps, baby blues turning warily towards the silent strange dressed in a long, black trench coat, fedora casting a shadow over his face so that she cannot see even the faintest gleam of his eyes, but in his hands there appears to be a paper of sorts.”Hello, miss. I believe I might be a little lost. Could you perhaps help me in deciphering this map?”, says the unknown man, his deep tones laced with a tinge of sophistication and yielding no malice that she could hear. Something in the young woman told her not to go any closer to the shadowy figure, warned her that something wasn’t quite right in the way he seemed so calm and collected standing there in the shadows, that she should run while she could… but being the kind heart that she was, she pushes these feelings aside. She had gotten help before from strangers and she had been grateful, what harm could there be in offering what help she could? Nothing about him seemed dangerous…”Sure. Where are you trying to get to, sir?”, she inquires softly, daring to step away from the reach of the light and towards the shadowed figure as she offers the man a small yet gentle smile upon those blush-colored lips. His chin lifts ever so slightly and she can feel his eyes on her, that same eerie and cold sensation racing up her spine as it had that night when Andras had found her."8th Street. I was told it should be nearby, but I can't seem to find it. Would you have a look?", smooth baritones answer as he extends his hand with the paper to Beylani. Thinking nothing of it, she extends her own hand out to take her paper so that she could glance at what she imagined were either directions or perhaps a map to the destination he sought. Suddenly, just as her slender fingers grasp the paper, his other hand snakes out towards her and she feels his cold hand lock fiercely onto her arm. Why was he so cold? She doesn't even have time to part her lips in a scream for help as he pulls her towards him and further into the shadows of the alley with a force that she hadn't in a thousand lifetimes thought any one human capable of, her voice seeming to catch in her throat as baby blue eyes widen in a fear that far surpassed that which she had felt that night she first met Andras. Everything blurs together now and all she sees is a bone-chilling smirk adorned by fangs, still unable to see his eyes... the eyes of her killer. He forces her body against his own so tightly she could hardly breathe, bringing his lips to her ear."Don't worry, my sweet. I'll make it quick", he whispers wickedly and only now does she hear the ice in his voice to rival the cold of his body that seeped the warmth from her own, hear the malice that had been hidden all this time behind nothing more than a mask. There is something in the way he seems to savor those words of deadly promise to her, a hunger that surely couldn't be human. Then, the chill that overwhelms her is turned into fire as pain electrified her every nerve, the fangs of the man cloaked in shadow sinking into the soft flesh of her neck. If only she had listened... If only she had stayed at home...

Beylani Rose~
dante|image by claudia nuta


Post A Reply