Disclaimer - I don't own The Lost Boys
I know I said I was on a break at writing one shots and just putting all my time and such into writing the Paul fic I'm doing, but this idea came a week back and...He wouldn't leave me alone! Paul continuously pulled at my hair and demanded that I write this...Write it...write it...write it...That's all he kept saying. LOL.
I got fed up of him and he said he wouldn't stop until I started typing. Damn idiot.
Santa Carla - 1981
The silver gleamed in the shining light, and a faint, pale, half fading face could be seen within the mirror of the knife. Dark brown eyes stared hauntingly at themselves, and a once, bright, blooming, smile was set in a thin straight line. There was no pink paint across the girl's cheeks like there usually was. Her complexion was pale and sickly. Once beautiful shining, puffy, brown hair was now dead looking, and tanned skin had long lost its softness and colour. There was nothing strikingly beautiful about this girl, not now. She looked tired, worn out ;all signs of giving up to some who looked closely at her. Once upon a time she was beautiful, happy, and cheerful. Now she was, frightened, alone, depressed, and the dark aura swirled around her. Many had seen this girl around the boardwalk. For those many had been surprised when the local gang of bikers, one night, had come onto the boardwalk with another. It had always been the four, those who had seen the girls come and go, the ones who would be on the back of the bikes as they rode away into the darkness, were never seen with them again. The next night it would just be the four, but this girl had been with them for some weeks, and more surprise had come when they saw who she continuously was around. Most new the reputation of the wannabe rockstar. It was a new girl on his arm every night, the same never seen with him again, but this one had, for reasons unknown, stuck around. She moved around in a daze with trinkets around her neck, and rings upon her toes. The long skirts she wore collected dust and bits of food as she moved, and the once star covered jacket was no longer admiring to look at. Nor was she, for the bright beaming smile was no longer seen upon her face when they came onto the boardwalk, and the beauty had long been buried away.
The reasons? No one knew, but to some who were well aware of these boys knew of course what had happened. She no longer came out into the sun. As they did, she only appeared at night.
Hands tightened on the knife and red, long, painted, chipped, fingernails, bit down hard into the black plastic, peeling away more nail varnish. To the vampire lurking in the next room; they would surely hear her heart beat furiously like a drum in her chest. It thundered violently, and hands began to shake slightly as the knife was gripped even tighter.
She was stupid, stupid for giving in to him, letting him and his poisonous friends lure her in. She took back all she wished, took back her fantasies of them. It wasn't what she thought it'd be like. Her fantasies of them were much different than what they were really like in the flesh. Sasha wished she had never been obsessed with vampires. If she hadn't of, then he wouldn't have come across her, read her thoughts inside of her stupid, thick, head. How wrong she was to think it would all be...magical. Every night he dragged her somewhere, every night she watched him tear somebody to pieces. It starved her, but she'd run away in fear. Laughing, he'd chase her down, and when finding her, his still bloody lips were come to hers. The blood would enter her mouth, fill her tongue with the sweet taste of it, and she'd all but practically pounce on him. It wasn't until he pulled away would she come to her senses and back away in even more fear. He'd laugh again and then walk away, leaving her to break down uncontrollably.
He was nice to her in a twisted way, but subtly, he was killing her mentally; tearing her apart. When the night came, she'd wake to find him lying next to her, his arm laid across her. He had come into the lobby at some point, and chills ran up her spine at the thought of him moving around as she slept. Feeling disgusted and scared she'd jump off the bed, run, only to be grabbed by his brother. Never would have she expected him to be a monster. His face would have put an angel to shame, and there was no grin as sinister and lovely as his. He was a monster in his own subtly, sick, way. With that sinister grin, he'd move towards her, and she'd see his sea green eyes sparkle at her terrified expression. As he did this, Paul was slowly creeping up behind her. They'd box her in and she'd start to cry. They'd laugh and begin to twist her hair around their fingers, run their hands over her flesh, pinch her skin, nibble on her neck. They tortured her without hurting her; they mentally broke her down without, to human eyes, doing nothing. They mind fucked with her, played their sick, twisted, games, all the while, slowly destroying her.
''You wanted this.'' Paul would pull her towards him. ''This was what you wanted.''
''Yeah'' Marko would laugh from behind her. ''Wannabe vampire...You've got your wish.''
She hadn't. She didn't want it. She wished she had never gone off with them, wished she had never brought her lips to the wound on his neck, drinking the elixir to immortality. Night in and night out they played with her, fucked her mind, tortured her until she could scream and cry no more. She was stupid for thinking it would all be special, stupid for even wanting to be one of them. There was nothing nice about being a vampire. It was all just blood, carnage, screams, pain and terror. There was no escape with her. Being back human, escaping them, was something that would never happen. A family, her family, the once sun that loved her had now come as a faraway dream, a dream she was starting to forget, and longing remember. She sometimes wondered if it had always been a dream. Had she ever been into the light, did she have a family somewhere? Were they thinking about her as hard as she tried to think of them? She couldn't remember what it was like to feel the warmth caress her skin, to have those she loved and those who loved her, around her. All these feelings had long been crushed and dissolved. The once night she loved was no longer beautiful to her. The shadows concealed her; she moved around them with a loneliness that wrenched at her heart, and increased the dark feelings within.
A single tear rolled down her cheek as she brought the knife to her arm. Blood instantly dribbled to the ground as she dug it into her pale skin, cutting it along the flesh. Skin peeled away and closing her eyes, she dug it in harder. Pain crossed her face, another tear fell, and biting her tongue, she violently slashed the knife across her wrist. It poured uncontrollably then and she collapsed to the floor. With the strength she had left, she did the same thing to the other wrist, feeling it run down her arm like an endless river. Her sensitive ears picked up the sound of it hitting the floor, and her eyes snapped open in shock and fright when she heard him move. She didn't want him to save her again just so he could repeat the same things again, just like he had been doing for weeks.
The knife pierced her heart, blood spilled from her mouth, and the knife clattered nosily to the floor. He came in then. His black boots banged on the stone, cold, white tiles. There was no grin upon his face as he looked down at her.
''I knew you weren't cut out for this. It was only a test, sis. If you had fed...'' Paul crouched down and there seemed to be regret in his eyes as he looked at her. ''The games would have stopped.''
Right, this is sort of why (in my eyes) Paul liked Star in his own weird way. I always thought he was the one who wanted a sister so he could play the big brother role and stuff. This girl did have some sort of similarities to Star, and it's because I'm thinking of doing a follow up to this, with Paul meeting Star. Striking resemblance perhaps?