If you read this, I ask that you comment not because I want a lot of them, but because I'm considering writing a full novel from this but I need to know if it's interesting.
You are never more alive than the moment before you die. These words echo through my mind as her scent fills my nostrils, as my nose meets the hard bone at the nape of her neck. These words reverberate in the confines of my head as she laughs at the contact; I tighten my hold on her waist.
It’s always the scent that draws me in. And there’s never need for me to search, no. They come to me, they do, the party of fools who ignore the warnings of the local villagers. They come into my forest, for the thrill of the danger; it’s always the same with those humans. The elves are fools, and we know better. The monster hides in the darkness, those elves say. There is no monster, we say.
The humans are wrong, for indeed there is a monster; I should know. And yet so are the elves, for:
Monsters do not hide in the darkness. They hide in plain sight; you will only see them when you need to.
She laughs again and turns around, but now the false desire in my eyes is gone, she sees my hunger and her eyes widen.
Why? Why do humans fear the inevitable? They know, we all know, that life is the road to death, that they are two sides of the same coin, so why the fear?
She gathers the energy to scream as she tries to escape my grip, too late. I move as fast my centuries-old body will allow, at its weakest I am faster than her.
Did she really think I desired her? That I singled her out of her twenty-something friends and allowed her the divine gift of hearing my voice because of love? Oh, the fool.
Her lifeblood is no different to the countless others; she is not the one I look for. Not The One.
I have waited for so long, so long, for the one to end my searching. To give me peace. For I remember still, so long ago, when I was yet an unblemished, untainted human boy. I remember the soothsayer’s wrinkled fingers tracing the lines on my palm, the slight heat of the dying candle in the corner. And the words:
To end your days of fruitless searching, of sleepless nights
To guide your soul across…
And then the smell that came from nowhere, as indescribable as life is mysterious, followed by the sweetest taste in my mouth.
The soothsayer died, long, long ago, but I will never forget. And I will never stop searching.
