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Thorne Avenal: The mysteries of love

by vampricone6783

*This is the origin of Thorne, from my story “The mysteries of love”. This story is underneath my folder titled “Perdita and Thorne…”. Gacha Club character designs are underneath my forum titled “My character designs<33”. Enjoy.*

Thorne Avenal watched from behind the door frame as father sat on mother’s bed, holding her limp hand gently.

Though Thorne was only five, he could see and understand that mother wouldn’t wake up, that her face was too sunken-in to be alive, and no breaths escaped her lips.

He saw it in the animals at the forest, and saw it in how his father’s eyes were drooped with heavy dark circles, as though he were a skeleton of himself.

Mother was dead.


As the days went on, Thorne tried not to think about mother’s thin body or how her skin seemed almost yellow. Mother had gotten hurt in the basement from father’s inventions, and father couldn’t save her.

He didn’t tell father that he saw mother’s dead body, for not even father wanted to talk about it. He’d talk about anything else, but never about mother. It was almost like she didn’t exist.

Playing at his house was no fun, for father was always downstairs, tinkering away at his inventions. Mother wasn’t around to keep him company, and without her, the house felt like a lonely, empty house.

So one day, when he was twelve, Thorne ran away to the forest behind his house. Back when mother was alive, they used to go to the forest together to bring flowers back home.

Thorne knew his way around, he knew how to get back home.

Ever since mother died, his house didn’t really have any color. It was muted browns and grays, dust billowing in the corners.

Flowers would liven the place up.

He plucked the bright, many-colored flowers that bloomed on the dirt, a bundle of rainbows in his hands. A small flicker of happiness began to grow in him, an emotion he hadn’t felt since mother died. Could it be that the flowers were enough to console him? Their sweet scent, their gentle petals, as though mother were watching over him?

Who was that, picking flowers in the distance? The person looked to be a girl around his age, her ginger hair draping around her freckled face. She too picked the flowers, her lavender dress holding spots of grass stains.

Thorne ran towards her, clutching the flowers tightly in one hand. He couldn’t let go of them, for they would be perfect for his home.

But he had to know who that person was, what they were doing in the forest. He never saw anyone there before.

“What are you doing here?” Thorne asked.

The girl flinched, startled by his presence. Her green eyes were filled with surprise.

Did he ask it the wrong way? Did he scare her? Was he too rude? It had been a while since he had a real conversation with people, after all.

“I’m just picking flowers. What about you?” The girl asked. She didn’t seem scared at all, only curious.

“Same thing!” Thorne blurted out.

He had to be careful not to say the wrong thing, or else she’d walk away. He was lucky enough that she still wanted to talk to him at all, that she didn’t find him to have a sour attitude. Father spent so much time with his inventions that he often struggled to think of something to talk about with Thorne.

He didn’t want to become like father.

“Really? Splendid! Would you like to pick flowers with me?” The girl asked.

She didn’t want him to leave? She liked his company?

Thorne nodded, at a loss for words.

“Wonderful! I’m Perdita, what’s your name?” Perdita asked.

“T-Thorne.” Thorne stuttered. Why, oh why, did he have to stutter just when he was getting to know her? Couldn’t he at least try to have a normal conversation without messing up his words?

But Perdita didn’t seem fazed. Instead, she gestured Thorne to come pick flowers with her, which he was all too grateful for.

She didn’t prompt him with questions, they simply picked flowers.

But that was enough for Thorne to feel like for once in his life, he wasn’t alone.


Every day, Thorne ran off to the forest to pick flowers with Perdita. They didn’t talk at first, but slowly, they began to open up more.

Perdita had a little sister named Abby, and both of her parents were alive.

It must have been nice to have a sibling and a mother. Thorne didn’t have anyone, except father, who was always downstairs with his inventions, as if they were going to be the “next big thing”.

Thorne told her what happened, but not the full extent of it. He didn’t want to go into detail about mother’s death.

She didn’t judge him, didn’t prompt him for other questions. She only picked flowers and told him about her day.

They’d pick flowers, and talk about their hopes, dreams, and aspirations. Thorne wanted to own an orphanage, to take care of the lonely, loss children in the world when he grew up. Perdita wanted to make the biggest garden in the world, a garden that everyone could afford to attend, for flowers were her passion that she wanted to share with everyone.

Over the years, Perdita filled his days with kindness and joy. He didn’t forget his mother, but he simply welcomed her into his life, for he didn’t want to be held down by the past forever.

She listened to him, she made him feel like he was worth more. The boys at school didn’t acknowledge, for they had their own set of friends. The teachers didn’t call on him, for they seemed to sense the cloud of sorrow-tinted memories around him.

If only girls were allowed to go to school. Then, they could talk to each other longer, and Thorne wouldn’t have to wait to see her.

No longer were they twelve, but sixteen. Perdita’s love had blossomed within him like the flowers he would take home, and he felt more attached to her, like…like she was more than a friend.

But how to tell her?


Thorne decided that he’d just say it in the forest, the place they always spent time in. It wouldn’t be much of a big deal, she wouldn’t leave him.

At least, he hoped. He never tried anything like that before.

There was Perdita, sitting in the clearing, her blue dress billowing around like the flower petals on a stem. She waved him over, and he ran towards her, pushing back all of the fear lodged in him.

He couldn’t hold back. He had to tell her how he felt, or else it’d haunt him like a ghost for the rest of his life.

“Perdita,” Thorne began, sitting next to her on the clearing.

Perdita twirled a strand of her ginger hair, watching him with gentle curiosity in her deep green eyes.

There it was. The feeling again. The feeling he got when she looked at him, when he felt his heart flutter, when his mind raced with thoughts of holding her close, of kissing all the freckles on her face, of never letting go.

“Perdita, you’re the only person in my life who doesn’t make me feel like I’m being heavily judged. You don’t prod me to talk about what happened to my mother, and I appreciate that. You treat me like an equal, but more than that, you bring color to my life. Every day with you has been a gift. A gift that my father couldn’t give me, that no one else could give me..”

Thorne trailed off, choking back sobs. She creased her eyebrows in concern, but no, he wouldn’t falter. He had to say it before he got too scared, before his courage shriveled and died within him.

“You’re such a sweet person that sometimes I wonder if you’re even real. If you’re just a dream to me. But I see you now, and I know that you’re real, that you really care, and…and…”

Thorne swallowed his tears. He was going to say it, he was really going to say it!

“I love you, Perdita. More than a friend would. When we grow up, I want to marry you. I’ll start an orphanage, you’ll start your garden. You and I, bringing beautiful things to the world. I’d love to have you in my life, if only you feel the same. Of course, I’m fine with you being a friend.” Thorne said.

He wiped away his tears, for he couldn’t cry in front of her. His emotions were all falling out, all too much, all overflowing like a cup of tea, but he had to keep it shoved down.

He couldn’t embarrass her with his crying.

Perdita smiled, her freckles seeming to multiply throughout her face as though they were faerie kisses. He hoped that he got to see that smile more in his life. If not, then that was fine too.

So long as she was happy.

“I love you too, Thorne! You’ve never said that I talk too much, and you don’t make me feel like I’m a bother. You may not know this, but I came out here in the first place because I wanted peace. Peace from my parents who didn’t like to hear me speak, who would rather have me stay silent…” Perdita trailed off, her green eyes downcast.

Thorne laced his hand around hers. Whatever could bring her down, and why would anyone want to hurt a lovely soul like Perdita?

“My parents find my voice to be too loud, and they don’t want me to open up a garden. They say that a woman should know her place, that she should talk when she’s spoken to.” Perdita said.

Her eyes glowed with passion, a lust for life and all that it had to offer.

“But I’ve never been that type of girl, and I want Abby to know that her words are valued.” Perdita said.

“Your voice isn’t too loud at all. It’s music to my ears, and I’m blessed to hear it every day. You’re valued very much, and I want you to know that I’ll always love you, on your good days and bad. In fact, I haven’t felt this marvelous since…”

Thorne paused. It had been awhile since it happened, but the memory of mother’s dead body came up in his mind, sharp and clear, a vision of decay and despair.

“Since my mother was alive. She used to take me to the forest to bring home flowers, and we’d decorate the house with them, bring life to them. Ever since I saw her thin, yellowing body, I…it was like there was an emptiness in my heart.”

Thorne paused, collecting his thoughts, choosing the perfect words to say. After only a few seconds, he continued:

“But you fill that emptiness, Perdita. Your words and your care fill that void, and I never want you to stop talking. You’re like the flowers in my home. You are the color in my life.”

All of a sudden, Perdita brought him close and kissed him deeply, every kiss filled with all of the tender affection that she had given him over the years.

He kissed her back, bringing her close, holding her tight, thinking of the flowers that bloomed in his house, of how she bloomed in his life. Tears poured from his eyes at the thought of mother, at the thought that Perdita loved him. A mixture of delight and misery, spewing out from him through kisses and sobs.

She let him go and hugged him tight, kissed the top of his head lovingly and said:

“I couldn’t have asked for anyone better.”

Thorne snuggled closer to her, for he felt just the same way.


Thorne opened the door to his house, his heart laced with Perdita’s endearing love. He felt as though her kisses went straight to his soul, right to his very core. They had stayed in the forest late into the night, till stars had dotted the sky, just like Perdita’s freckles.

Even in the light of the moonlight, Thorne could see that the flowers were gone…wait…

The flowers were gone?!

“Have you been seeing someone, Thorne?” Father asked.

Thorne turned his eyes towards father, who sat on the sofa. His eyes were tired, a telltale sign that he had been up all night, building something.

“N-No.” Thorne stuttered. Why would he ask that? Did he want something?

“I know you have, Thorne. Don’t lie to me. Lately, you’ve had this look in your eyes that you’re in love. I know it. I used to feel it. But love only leads to hurt. I can’t let you hurt yourself like this.” Father said.

“It doesn’t only lead to hurt. I miss mother every day, but to get rid of the flowers is dishonoring her memory, and you know that she wouldn’t want you to stop me from finding love.” Thorne said.

After all of those years, and just then father spoke to him? What did he want? Why did he choose to talk as though he actually understood Thorne?

“You don’t know how much her death haunts me, Thorne. I’ve tried everything in my power to save her, I knew her since we were children. But she died, and there was nothing I could do about it. I was building a time machine to escape into the future, to escape the memories of her…” Father stopped, choked with tears. His eyes moved to a corner of the room, as though he were waiting for his wife to appear.

But then, he turned to Thorne, his tired, sad eyes hardening into resolve.

“I think that you might need it more than me. If you let her into your life, there’s no way that you’ll be able to live if you lose her. I don’t want you to ever feel the loneliness that I feel, ever. You’re going to take me to this girl, and you’re going to let me send her away to a different time. She’ll only grow old if you try to find her, so don’t pursue her. It’s better if neither of you hurt the other, if you’re both apart.” Father said, standing up from the sofa.

“Who says that I’m allowing any of this? Just because mother died doesn’t mean that you have to take my love away from me. Do you think that I’ve been happy here? No. I think about mother just as much as you do, but I’m not going to let that stop me from living my life. She would have wanted us to be happy!” Thorne cried out.

Angered tears pooled from his eyes. He was crying so much, like an overflowing faucet. Crying from joy, from sadness, from fury. All of his emotions, mixing up inside him like a poison threatening to burn him from the inside out.

“I thought that you would have said no.” Father said, his voice oddly serene.

Thorne caught a glimpse of one of father’s hands clenched tightly, as though he were holding something.

It has to be one of his inventions. He’s going to do something to me, and I can’t let that happen.

Thorne turned towards the front door, turning the knob, desperate to get away from his prying, probing father.

The cool night air brushed against his cheeks like an invitation to the beyond, as though a life of infinite possibilities waited for him. Thorne ran out the door-

But father grabbed his wrist before he could run any farther, lodging something inside his skin, something sharp, something that felt like the tip of a claw grazing his flesh.

Father pulled him back inside, the world around Thorne blurring away…


Thorne woke up with a screaming, screeching headache. Sunlight streamed in through the window, and father was nowhere to be seen.

The other night, father said that he was going to follow Thorne into the forest and force Perdita into a time machine. He pierced Thorne with something too, a needle perhaps, but…

But that wasn’t important. If Thorne ran fast enough, he might outrun father, and could safely warn Perdita of what was to come.

Besides, father might not think to follow him in daylight, for he was busy with his inventions at that time.

If Thorne only warned Perdita in the early morning, then they would be both safe!

He just had to be quick, that was all.

Thorne got up from the ground and ran out the front door, ignoring the blistering aches that burned throughout his body.

He’d deal with himself later. Perdita’s safety was more important.


After miles of running, Thorne finally made it to the clearing that he and Perdita always visited each other in. She waited in a cardinal red dress, grinning when she saw him.

Her grin fell as he got closer. He placed his hands on his knees, panting as he paused to catch his breath. The blistering pain was clawing at his stomach, but again, he ignored it. Perdita was more important than anything at the moment.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen the devil.” Perdita said, placing a comforting hand on his back.

He might have seen the devil, with how miserable father’s eyes looked the other night, how hollow father’s voice sounded, as though he had lost the ability to love anything again.

Thorne looked up at Perdita. He was still trying to catch his breath, but he couldn’t waste his time trying to help himself. Perdita had to know before things got bad.

“My father…he likes…inventing…but he’s…out of sorts…he’s…he’s…he’s going to lock you in a…in a time machine…run home…go home…I’ll…take care of him…get rid of him…” Thorne got out between gulps of air.

He never thought of himself as one to take a life, as one to kill, but if father was going to hurt Perdita, then there was no better way to ensure her utmost safety.

But Perdita didn’t run. Instead, she laughed. Thorne stood up straight and clamped a hand over her mouth, lest father was lurking in the forest, searching for her.

“Keep your voice down. Run home.” Thorne whispered.

Thorne let go of his hold on her, trusting that she would know what to do.

Yet still, she didn’t run.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Thorne. No one can travel into the future. It’s just not possible. Come now, stop teasing me.” Perdita said, lightly punching him on the shoulder.

“I’m not. I’m telling the truth. Keep your voice down and run, right-“

Thorne didn’t get to finish his sentence, because someone slammed a rock on Perdita’s head. She fell to the ground, blood pooling around her freckled face, matching the color of her dress.

Thorne swallowed hard.

The person who had slammed the rock on her head was none other than father, shaking his head as though he were disappointed.

So he did follow me. He followed me into the forest.

Thorne knelt to the ground, reaching for Perdita. If she was dead, then he wanted to search for her home and help bury her.

She’s dead. There’s no denying it. Look at how vacant her eyes are, how the blood is spilling from her head. My sweet angel, I’m so sorry that my father got to you. I’m so-

Thorne felt something rather heavy slam into his head.

First there was blurriness, then there was nothing.


Thorne opened his eyes. He was in a metal tube, a finger-print stained window his only view of what was outside. He couldn’t move his body, he felt like he was in a coffin.

From the many intestines of gears, wiring, and wheels, Thorne knew that he was in father’s invention room. Father was on the other side of the tube, smiling at him as though everything would be okay.

It registered onto Thorne that father had smashed a rock on his head, just as he did with Perdita.

But no one should be able to survive a rock smashed on their head…right?

“Where is Perdita? Where am I? Why am I still alive? What happened?” Thorne asked, the questions tumbling out of him.

What if father couldn’t hear? What if his words were inaudible from within the tube?

“Perdita is fine, Thorne. I just sent her away into the future, just as I promised. You’re a vampire. I injected your wrist with a needle that made you a vampire. Vampires cannot so easily be killed.” Father said.

So he did hear Thorne. At least Thorne wasn’t completely powerless, at least he could still communicate.

But what was that about turning him into a vampire?

“I need you to think about what you’ve done. You tried to disobey me. You didn’t trust my words. I’m only doing this for your own good. You’ll thank me later, when I’m long dead and you’ve lived long enough to get over pursuing love.” Father said.

Father sighed, caressing the side of the metal tube as though Thorne was a little boy again, and father was trying to get him to sleep.

Thorne had a slew of distasteful words to say, but so many of them were swimming in his head. There didn’t seem to be a proper word to describe the man father had become.

“I’m going to teleport you to the nearest town. Satisfy your hunger, my son. Forget about love, you are more than that.” Father said.

Forget?! Forget?! How could he forget about Perdita, the person who embraced him with open arms and accepted him for everything that he was, broken parts and all?

“I wish you well.” Father said.

Thorne helplessly watched as he pressed something on the side of the tube. The world became blindingly bright, like the rays of sunlight stinging his eyes, burning his body.

Thorne screamed, but he was certain that not even father heard him in that moment.


Thorne opened his eyes yet again. No longer was he in the tube, but in the center of town, people buzzing past him to their everyday lives.

Everything was too loud, too much. Just like school. Perdita was gone, father had sent him away. The time machine must have revived her, but she was sent to a completely different time period. What if she didn’t remember him? What if she died before he got to her? What if she was already dead? What if-

No. The blistering pain in his stomach flared up, and the thought of blood flowing through his mouth kept creeping around the edges, demanding to be fulfilled.

Thorne licked the top part of his teeth. Yes, he could feel two distinct pointed teeth in his mouth. There was no doubt that he was a vampire, that he was destined to live forever.

Perdita was somewhere in the future. Father said that she would stay sixteen forever, but if Thorne found her, then she would start to grow up. Perhaps on her birthdays, perhaps instantly. He wasn’t sure.

Father wanted to discourage him from finding Perdita. He must have thought that Thorne would forget about her, that he’d only think about blood after many centuries.

But Thorne would never forget her. He’d memorize her voice, he’d draw pictures of her, he’d write poems about her, and he’d dream of the day she would be in his arms again.

Once she was in his grasp, he’d make her a vampire, and then, they would live happily ever after, without anyone ever harming them again.

But first, he had to find food.

Is this a review?



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451 Reviews

Points: 45164
Reviews: 451

Sat Jun 22, 2024 2:39 am
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EllieMae wrote a review...


Hello, once again, my friend :D :D Ellie here to read and review this lovely work and give you some feedback! I hope you are having a lovely day so far! Let's jump right in to the review and not waste any time!!

First of all, I want to say that I adore your writing a lot. I am seriously amazed at how many different stories you can come up with. I love reading all of the variety of characters, creatures, plots, and intriguing creepy tales you shareware on YWS. I just thought I would take a moment and make sure that you know this, since I have been reviewing so many of your stories lately! Seriously, it is such a pleasure to read your writing <33

Okay, let's get in to the actual feedback of this review!! =D Starting with the very first senetnces!

Thorne Avenal watched from behind the door frame as father sat on mother’s bed, holding her limp hand gently.

Though Thorne was only five, he could see and understand that mother wouldn’t wake up, that her face was too sunken-in to be alive, and no breaths escaped her lips.

He saw it in the animals at the forest, and saw it in how his father’s eyes were drooped with heavy dark circles, as though he were a skeleton of himself.

Mother was dead.

This little introductory section starts off the story really well. It sets an emotional and sad mood, as we hear these details of a sunken in face and no breaths, the character themself being a skeleton, a dead mother. Thorne being only 5 at this time adds a lot more emotion as well. Awesome work setting this up and getting us engaged right away.

She didn’t prompt him with questions, they simply picked flowers.

But that was enough for Thorne to feel like for once in his life, he wasn’t alone.

I honestly love the symbolism here. We go from Thorne, whose world is trapped in greenness and death and darkness, to this girl with ginger hair, picking bright colored flowers. I love the contrast in color, but also pain and emotional stories we see.

“I thought that you would have said no.” Father said, his voice oddly serene.

Thorne caught a glimpse of one of father’s hands clenched tightly, as though he were holding something.

It has to be one of his inventions. He’s going to do something to me, and I can’t let that happen.

I wanted to take a moment to compliment you on your internal dialogue that you use in this piece. We go from internal to external so fast, which seems very realistic to me, as in the real world our brains zip between thoughts internally and observations of others, to speaking and interacting with the world around us. Great work!

Overall, I enjoyed this a lot! Keep on writing!!

Your friend,


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Reviews: 50

Thu Jun 20, 2024 4:18 am
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Isbah wrote a review...

Hello!! I like this story. The starting is really good. I love the idea of how his mother’s death was what gave him a need to fill that emptiness. I think the vampire idea is too sudden and there aren’t any hints towards it. If you give subtle mentions of it before, and then his father mentions it, it will seem like it fits in with the rest of the story.

He saw it in the animals at the forest,
Is this a reference to his vampire side?
The using of flowers and their colours to express his emotions is totally awesome and I think you should mention it once right at the end too. Relate something like, roses? to his becoming a vampire and feeling the need to feed. Also. I would want to know more about how his father knows that he’s a vampire.
At the end, Thorne thinks,
It registered onto Thorne that father had smashed a rock on his head, just as he did with Perdita.

But no one should be able to survive a rock smashed on their head…right?
And then Thorne dreams about making her a vampire, so she isn’t already, then how is she not dead and in the future instead?
That’s all. Thank you for writing this!

vampricone6783 says...

Time Machine makes her alive.

He turned Thorne into a vampire with the needle.

Glad you enjoyed!

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