I had written this while on a big FF7 kick and my best friend and I were doing an RPG envoling several fandoms. One of the characters involved was Reno of the Turks of FF7 fame. To make a long story less long, he got vampized within the first half hour of our role play. So, no, the vampire doesn't belong to me. Everything else does, however.

Warning: hints of yaoi

Final Statements: Please let me know how I did. I really appreciate feedback because it lets me know what I'm doing right vs. what I'm doing wrong. Help me to improve.

Sleeping Beauty

He had to have been beautiful in life; of that much the watcher was certain, for the man in the coffin was seductive even in death.

His features were perfect—his nose chiseled, cheeks angled, and jaw strong and slim. Delicate eyelids were shut as if the deceased was merely sleeping. The watcher could imagine his eyes being either a bright green or blue…maybe a breath-taking aqua. The skin encasing him was white like marble. Whether death had paled him so or if he was so pale in life was a mystery. Either way, it was unblemished and smooth. The only imperfection was two scars, one under each eye over the cheekbones. Slashes like an artist's brush strokes and red as blood marred his skin. Somehow, the scars only added to the dead one's loveliness.

His best feature was, undoubtedly, his long hair of silk. The color of blood, it formed a pool around his head and shoulders, suggesting something violent underlying the peace of death.

The age of the dead one could long be debated. He was lovely and held a vibrancy only the young held, but he also had an aura of harshness only the jaded elders have. It was an interesting contrast.

The dead man was dressed in a suit of the finest of black fabric and a crimson silk dress shirt. It was finely cut, clinging attractively to all the angles of his body. The while silk sheet that served as his shroud was stitched with fine silver thread, glinting in the half-light. Whoever this man had been, he'd not been for want of money.

"Who were you?" the watcher asked softly, sliding his fingers over the smooth, unpowderred skin of the dead's cheek.

He had to have been freshly dead since he was so intact and unblemished. Fresh flowers were still laid be his head. It was unnerving. The watcher had not expected to disturb the rest of one so beautiful and newly dead, but he could not let that get to him. Somewhere in this tomb was a secret treasure worth more than a king's ransom.

He turned away form the body, looking down the row of stone sarcophagi, suppressing a shudder at the thought of what was contained in them.

As he turned he missed the eyes of the dead man slip open, revealing bright, bright blue-green pools, and the parting of the unnaturally red lips. Gleaming white canines shown in the mouth. Long fingers reached out for the thief…

He never saw it coming.