Lost in time

[LittleDeadGrrl]

"The earth sinks in the waves; the sun eclipses itself
The stars commit suicide in docile ellipses
Everything burns and everything vanishes in this strange atmosphere
The sky puts on the colors of winter roses"

-It's a village lost at the frontier of the invisible. Swallowed by a horizon of fog and snow and mountains. Somewhere deep in the Carpathian mountains a small village lay nestled in the mouth of the valley. A village whose name has long been forgotten with roads erased by snow and time. Miles of solitude. No technology reaches this place and the people still live as their parents did and their parents and their parents. Every day hunters go out into the depths of the dark woods and every night they return with food for their families. It is only by hazard that one reaches its garden of gray stones and naked trees. Few ever survive the wilderness to reach the village and than few are invited to stay. The villagers treat lost strangers with kindness, offering a meal and a bed for the night, and then they are escorted back to civilization and away from the borders of their little home-


-Beyond its reaches lays a small cavern guarded by huge boulders and dark creatures. The hunters know never to go that close. Science long ago taught the world that vampires and werewolves don't exist but science never reached this place. They know that the howls they hear at night, the maddening screams that come from that place are from something unholy. Inside is a creature that is as unfamiliar with science and technology as they are, if not more so. Petre is buried deep in the earth by concrete and stone. He is too weakened to escape and part of him doesn't want to anyway. He shifts uncomfortably waiting for the last of his ancient blood to fade. He knows it will take a long time. He tries to focus on Sylla. On his face. On Flint and his scent. He tries to hold on to good memories but they only last a few hours, the rest of the day he remembers the bad, trapped in a nightmare he can't escape-

I'm sorry ... mother ... father ... help me!

-He screams out in Dutch, forgetting he had no father, forgetting he is not seven any more but an old monster. It is a terrible way to die, physical pain is nothing to mental anguish. The villagers hear but don't understand the ancient mumbling. They fear the screams and avoid coming too close but even so Petre can smell them despite the miles of snow and rock between himself and them. it is an added torment the Volturi have added. To smell blood and humans, fresh humans, perfect humans, with blood so sweet it sings. He bares his fangs and claws at his coffin bearing off nails before the tears begin to flow. He sobs and quiets, focusing his mind, retaining what sanity he can, but weeks pass in this place and no mind can survive. He knows no help is coming. He knows the world has already forgotten him. He sighs and stops fighting allowing sanity to finally escape him. Allowing madness to take over and the shadows of his age to overwhelm him-