The pen scrawled across the page at great speed, with inhuman grace. The half written words in conjunction with diagrams and scribbles formed incoherent sentences and patterns. His writing randomly flowed from left to right, right to left and also up and down the pages in countless different languages, dialects and symbols that were intertwined with portraits, pictures and diagrams.

He sat with his back against a steel framed bed, the journal propped up on one of his legs. He tapped his pen on the edge of the journal as he silently looked out into the night, trying to focus his thoughts. His attire was plain and casual, dressed entirely in cheap black clothes. His pale complexion and sharp features betrayed his look of youthful innocence.

As he leant his head back onto the bed behind him the thin black spectacles slid of his face leaving his ice cold blue eyes exposed to the harsh electric lighting and the book fell from his lap joining the pile of discarded books around his feet. His hand ran through his short ruffled blonde hair. He let out a long exasperated sigh as he massaged his temples.

The door to the room opened to the elegantly dressed lady who silently walked across the room to the wooden desk that was covered in papers, books and journals. She turned around to face the distressed looking author. She reached down for the most recent journal and looked to the page it had fallen open too. Her eyes scanned the entries as she casually browsed meaningless articles that made no sense to her and therefore had little relevance.

As she turned away from him a portrait caught her attention. She focused on it intently for a few moments, as her hand went to turn the page she gasped and dropped the book. He held her wrist firm in his hands as he looked into her eyes.

A sly smile crossed her face and his grip on her weakened until his arm dropped limply to his side. She giggled as she walked over to the bed where she sat down and crossed her legs, she moved with grace and sheer elegance. She reached for his discarded spectacles and toyed with them idly in her hands.

He took the journal and opened the central drawer of his desk; the book was a snug fit. Closing the draw, he locked it and placed the small bronze key that hung from a thin metal chain around his neck and under his jumper. He walked to the open window, closed it and stood looking out into the night.

She watched him from the bed for a long time, still and silent he just continued to look out into the darkness, before she moved closer to him.

“The man in the book who was he? What does he mean? Tell me what it all means?”

She continued to ask him endless questions, to none of which he responded or acknowledged. She muttered a curse and took a step away from him.

“Talk to me!”

Furious she moved to the bed and grabbed the bound girl by her hair and yanked her to her feet. The girl whimpered and sobbed, her screams silenced by the tight gag.

“Eat something!”

She pushed the girl to the floor beside him and stormed out of the room. The door slammed shut behind her.

A few hours had passed when she returned to the room. Cautiously she walked up on Mark, as if she was trying not to disturb him, respecting him. She placed a gentle palm on his shoulder in a gesture offering comfort. Her hand remained on his shoulder as she walked around so that she was looking into his eyes.

He had not moved since she left him, stood in exactly the same place, with the same blank expression. Her eyes glanced to the still gagged girl on the floor who was no more than 12 years old. This time she spoke to him softer, slower and with a reassuringly calm tone.

“Hey sweetheart, you need to eat something, you need to build your strength. Do you think it’s easy for me to stand here and watch you drift further and further into nothingness?”

Her hand travelled up to his cheek, she caressed it gently with the back of her hand.

“I need you baby and you need me. Please don’t do this to yourself. I just need to know what all your writing means. You spend all your time in here” she tried hard to suppress a sly smile “writing in your journals, your books and making these drawings” she motioned to the numerous pictures pinned to the walls.

“Sweetie I need to know if it has something to do with me, I know it does and I need you to tell me what it means.” She pressed her body against his, her lips almost brushing his as she continued to speak. “Is it to much to ask for? Just talk to me, tell me what it means and you can have anything you want, anything! Just tell me what it hast to do with me. Can you do that gorgeous? Can you do that for me?”

She longingly looked into his eyes. Not once did he move, blink or make the simplest gesture to acknowledge her presence. She shook her head slowly in disbelief, gripping onto the side of her head, her fingers entwined in her wavy dark hair she muttered under her breath.

She turned in anger away from Mark; she let out a frustrated, feral groan that could have been a growl. Her foot connected hard into the chest of the bound girl kicking her a few feet across the room. The blood that would have spluttered from her lungs was stopped in her mouth by the tight gag, she crawled up into a fetal position as the pain agonised her body. She writhed in pain, desperately trying to crawl away from her fate.

Turning back to face Mark she reached to the wall and pulled down several of the pictures. Ripping them she threw the pieces to his feet.

“Is this how you want it to end?” She shouted at him in blind fury. “It all destroyed! I will do it! If I can't know what it means then no one will! Why, why, why are you doign this to me?"

She walked to the girl who had almost crawled to the exit, snapped her neck in one swift motion and left the room. Three men, her goons walked into the room and surrounded Mark. Two of them held onto his arms and braced themselves against his shoulders. The third walked in front of him, with a sick sadistic smile he let the beating begin with a hard punch to Marks abdomen

((Oh no! Someone save Marky Mark! He's being beaten! Btw, any clues as to where Mark currently is?

((poor marky mark lol hes in his haven ( not such a haven any more) in the lovely rundown motel that has also recently become abandoned due to new ownership, aka vampires lol

She cricked her neck as she walked down the corridor, the drive had been a long one and although her body didn't crave sleep, her muscles craved relaxation and a long hot bath to ease out the creases in her tired muscles. She looked slightly perturbed at the flaking faded wallpaper that lined the corridor and sighed.....where was the decadent decorations and the lush marble floorings she was once used to, shaking her head she lugged her rucksack on her back and continued down to room 80, long gone baby long gone she whispered to herself as she slid her pass key through the door and pushed it open.

The room was no better than the corridor, but beggars cant be chooses she thought, or rather not beggars, but someone who has to be frugal and vigilant with their money. After hefting the rucksack off her back and checking the bathroom she decided that a bath was maybe not the order of the day and laid on the bed.

her eyes were just beginning to close through lack of interaction when she heard it. a scuffle in the adjacent room and ....she waited ...oh yes she knew that sound.....flesh meeting flesh, but not in an erotic way at all.....this was pure punishment.

Leave it .....nothing to do with you .....rest...sleep......do whatever.....the thoughts flew through her head but she gave a sigh and sat up suddenly.....the pounding of flesh was too much for her to block out.
She looked down the corridor and checked her boot....yup it was still there, her security, her protection, her killer.

The door was non descript, the average motel door and listening to the moans that were ensuing from inside she had no misconceptions as she did what she did.
her boot hit the door squarely and the weak lock gave away as she pushed it open.

[i:1577c43b2a]"Hi honey I'm home"[/i:1577c43b2a]

The door opened hard, slamming into the wall before breaking free from its hinges and crashing to the floor. Startled the three goons turned to face the intruder. Mark’s beaten body fell to the floor as the goons released there hold on him. They walked towards Imala in a triangle formation and taking a hostile stance.

A sly smile crossed the face of the goon “leader” as he eyed his new prey up and down. Confidence flowed through him, to much confidence and he found it hard to take things seriously.

“Hey there sweet-cheeks, looks like you have got some fine move, I’m glad you came to visit because I am in need of a new honey, maybe me and you will be a item. After I’ve fucked you up that is”

He stepped closer to her, his hand reaching for the side of her face. Mark remained motionless, his beaten body limp, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

((hey :P I thought id leave this to you. They are just three stupid ghoul goons who are young, slow and stupid. But they do pack quite a punch. Feel free to set some heads rolling))

Imala looked at him as his rough fingers brushed against her pale cheek and she smiled and beckoned him closer with her finger.

[i:33ca8b25b4]" see she likes me, she can't resist my looks, she's a good little bitch, ain't you honey"[/i:33ca8b25b4]

The smile stayed on her face as he stepped closer to her and she let her lips part and ran the tip of her tongue along her lip.
All the time her eyes were surveying the situation, ghouls but the one lay on the floor was a vampire, she was sure of it, a very battered one but nonetheless, one of her own.

[i:33ca8b25b4]" oh man she's got the hots for you"[/i:33ca8b25b4] said the small scrawny ill dressed youth.

The lead ghoul made a fatal mistake, he got too close which is just what she wanted, as she whispered in his ear her hand moved down his body until she had him just were she wanted him.....by the balls.

His face turned white as he felt her grip tightening and then twist.

[i:33ca8b25b4]" fuck you"[/i:33ca8b25b4] she sneered as he collapsed to the floor in agony and she kicked him in the ribs....hard.

[i:33ca8b25b4]" so who wants to play next, not so brave now are you, what's wrong was he the puppeteer and you two are just the puppets"[/i:33ca8b25b4]

[i:33ca8b25b4]" get the bitch....god guys get her"[/i:33ca8b25b4] he managed to splutter as he laid on the floor groaning in pain.

[i:33ca8b25b4]" hush now anyone would think I'd hurt you bad....now if i wanted to do that I'd just do this"[/i:33ca8b25b4] she moved quickly and reached down to her boots and pulled the knife out and bent down and slit his throat with one rapid movement.

The other two took their chances and started backing up towards the window, they were like a headless chicken without their leader about and escape was upmost on their mind.

[i:33ca8b25b4]" Boys you not staying to play?"[/i:33ca8b25b4] her tongue ran along the edge of the blade and she moaned softly as she tasted the vitae.

[i:33ca8b25b4]" Fucking whore!"[/i:33ca8b25b4] Sam had had enough and he ran at her , his sheer bulk of his body sending her flying against the desk that was sat adjacent to the bed.

Sam slammed into her with such force that when she struck the desk its sturdy frame collapsed, smashing into pieces. Her head struck the wall; she lost her balance and dropped down onto the shattered remains of the desk. The knock had slightly dazed her and Sam chuckled softly to himself.

The journal that was locked away flew from the desk, landing with a loud thud on the floor. It slid across the polished floor, spinning, before coming to a halt and falling open to a page. A loose page that had been torn from the journal fluttered slowly to a rest, directly in front of Mark.

Sam stood towering over Imala, his hand reached for a broken piece of wood which he held in his hand like an assassins dagger. She stood slowly, regaining her balance; a confident smile crept over her face as she looked passed Sam.

“Looks like the bitch isn’t so tough after all, so long princess.”

He was taken by surprise as Mark grabbed him, one hand holding onto the scruff of his neck and the other by his hair. Mark slammed his face into the brick wall repeatedly until the struggles and screams were replaced by a horrific gargling and whimpering noise.

Mark released his hold on Sam, walked over to the bed where he retrieved his spectacles. He slid them on to his badly beaten face. He knelt down, reaching for his journal and scattered pieces of paper; a look of fear covered his face as he looked for a page in desperation, a page that was missing.

Imala watched partly in awe and disbelief as the seemingly half torpored body came to life and viciously attacked Sam. The other part of the trio had long ago departed quickly through the open window and the curtains that billowed wildly in the wind were now splattered with flecks of blood.....Sam's blood.

As quick as he had flown into a temper, he calmed down and she watched him as he calmly picked his glasses up and started gathering the pieces of paper that had been torn out of the book.

[i:2675a94fe4]" Look I dont know who you are but I know what you are and I suggest we get out of here.....like now"[/i:2675a94fe4]

He looked at her blankly, then she saw the panic spread on his face, hoping he was seeing her point of view....but no he started scrambling around as if searching for something.

Imala sighed and started to walk away, some people you just couldn't help, but she was well into self preservation.

A soft keening moan escaped his lips and it stopped her in her tracks, the small piece of humanity in her tugging at her to help him.

Turning back towards him she got down on her knees and looked at him.
[i:2675a94fe4]" what are we looking for?"[/i:2675a94fe4]

He said nothing but held up a piece of paper.

She frowned and began to look under the bed...ahhhhh maybe this would calm him down, he seemed to be getting more and more agitated.

[i:2675a94fe4]" Is this it?"[/i:2675a94fe4]

His eyes lit up and he reached out.
[i:2675a94fe4]" Look I dont know what this is , but we have to get out of here...ok...so here's the deal.....you want this ....you have to come with me"[/i:2675a94fe4]

Imala carefully folded the paper up and slipped it into her combat pockets.

Mark’s hand remained outstretched as he watched the fragile piece of paper being folded and placed deep into the pockets of her combats. He dropped his arm slowly, the palm of his hand now on the floor and supporting his body as he lowered his head. He had an expression of frustration, desperation and that all too familiar look of melancholy; his eyes closed, his mouth open ready to scream. He remained silent.

Imala looked at him with conflicted eyes; the humanity inside her seeing a distressed, wounded and fragile man while the darkness saw only a weak and pathetic child of the night. After all in her world it was survival of the fittest.

Sam let out a heavy gasp, blood sputtering from his mouth and out of his crushed nose. His hand wailed as he fought hard for his life. Her eyes glanced between the two until she finally made her decision. She grabbed Mark by the scruff of his neck and pulled him to his feet.

“Come on Get up!”

He stumbled forward until he was resting against the wall. His looked at her with a harsh cold stare that travelled from her face to her pocket. His left arm supported his bruised ribs as he reluctantly walked out of the apartment, through the dilapidated corridors, down the stairs and out the back entrance. He followed a few paces behind Imala, until she stopped. Her eyes glanced around the street; she sighed and shook her head in disbelief.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this…”

She lifted the manhole and dropped into the city sewers below the streets.

* * * * * *

The debris of wood in the room snapped under her foot as she assessed the place in disbelief. He was gone, his journal gone. Nothing was left, except the corpse of one of her men and the other struggling for life.

She turned to face the brutish man who accompanied her; he was dressed in an exquisite suit. “Burn this place down, starting with that idiot over there” She pointed at Sam and abruptly left the building. The mammoth man smiled sadistically as he set about building his inferno.

* * * * * *

After what seemed like an eternity in hell to Imala thy arrived at a sewer access corridor that led to a large steel door. The metal handle was slick with what could only be described as icky filth. Using both her hands she gave the handle a sharp twist and the door unlocked to reveal a set of concrete steps.

The duo travelled up the stairs into the boiler room of a long forgotten school.

The old boiler sat prominent in the room surrounded by pools of stagnant, murky water; its copper pipes were rusted and coated in thick layers of viscous slime. The cold and worn walls were stained yellow; moss and fungus thrived on its damp, filthy surface. The eerie silence was broken only by the repetitive sound of water seeping through the cracks in the ceiling and cascading to the floor.

This place had been abandoned for a long time. Either that or it seriously needed a new caretaker. With one firm placement of her trusty boot the rusted lock gave way, the wooden boards on the other side that warded against entry shattered and splintered. Imala lowered her foot, took a quick glance to Mark before walking out into the basement.

The basement was mostly filled with warped wooden furniture: desks, chairs and old fashioned blackboards. Some were obviously broken or damaged while others appeared to be in relatively good condition. Mops, buckets, brooms and various janitorial supplies also occupied the room.

She walked, slowly and silently across the basement towards a door to the far end of the room. She ran her finger tips along the surface of a desk; inches of dust and dirt. The handle turned effortlessly in her hands, opening inwards. Her path was blocked by a large metal object. A sign on the door caught her attention that was written in large white letters on a red background. “No student access to basement”.

The path was blocked by a set of full length steel lockers. Pushing with all her body she was able to move them just enough for her lithe frame to slide into the office on the other side. The lights above sensed her motion and switched on. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the harsh false light.

This room was impeccable and extremely well kept. The white paint almost glowed, the oak flooring was spotless and the furniture was metallic and modern. Her eyes followed around the room; to the right the walls were lined with framed certificates of personal and school sporting achievements below which was a glass framed display case filled to the brim with trophies, gold cups and shields. Opposite her was another door with a college banner hanging proudly to the side.

As she turned to the left of the room she jumped. Mark was stood in front of the metal desk, toying with the stationary. It would take her a little longer to get used to his miraculous appearing acts.

The final room that they would uncover tonight was a locker room; fresh with the addictive and tantalising smell of sweat, blood and adolescence. She walked back to Mark, grabbed him by the arm and pushed him into the adjoining shower block.

The blood, dirt and grime was washed free from his skin by the harsh cold power shower. The water had little effect on his blood stained clothes. Imala searched the lockers for some suitable clothes before pulling him from the shower and leading him back into the basement.

Imala kept giving him sideway glances as they walked in silence. He had hardly said a word to her since leaving the showers and although her defences were on high alert she felt oddly protective over him, he was vulnerable in a way and although she had enough on her plate at the moment she knew that she couldn't abandon him.

[i:79bd4b4f07]" Look I don't know what shit you are in, but I'd like to help if I can, but you have to tell me what's going on"[/i:79bd4b4f07]

Mark simply nodded [i:79bd4b4f07]" I will, but....but......"[/i:79bd4b4f07]

Tears started to run down his face and Imala sighed, thats all she needed a crying Malk who was in a lot of trouble.

[i:79bd4b4f07]" It's going to be daylight soon.....and I don't fancy been caught out in it, let's find somewhere to rest for the day and then you can tell me what's going on"[/i:79bd4b4f07]

There it was again ...that nod, no words just a nod and then she felt his hand in hers, clinging to her as a child would.


....................................................................................................

It hadn't been easy to find somewhere they would be safe from the sun that would be cheap, or as it happened free, but they had, all down to him though, once out of the sewers he had looked around to get his bearings and led her down into the residential area.

((Rea's place lol