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The End of the World1

The End of the World1

Ratings: (0)|Views: 23|Likes:
Published by Mel Skubich
The 21st of December 2012, the supposed end of the world. Raoul Sinclair, pop star and magician, balances on the edge of sanity as he dances with death on the last day.

Will his friends be able to convince him that the apocalyse is only happening in his mind? Or is it?

Watch out for vampires, gay characters, some sex and violence and a bit of romance, too!
The 21st of December 2012, the supposed end of the world. Raoul Sinclair, pop star and magician, balances on the edge of sanity as he dances with death on the last day.

Will his friends be able to convince him that the apocalyse is only happening in his mind? Or is it?

Watch out for vampires, gay characters, some sex and violence and a bit of romance, too!

More info:

Published by: Mel Skubich on Dec 23, 2012
Copyright:Traditional Copyright: All rights reserved


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 The End of the World 
The year was 2012. The date the 21
of December. The day the world would end. Atleast according to some prophets of doom that interpreted the end of the ancient Mayancalendar in that way. Most people didn't believe it. I certainly didn't and neither did Francis andCallum. Raoul on the other hand... He did believe. He had always loved everything morbid andso was drawn to the sinister message of death and destruction like a moth to the flame.I awoke in the early hours of that damned 21
of December quite suddenly. I boltedupright in bed and rubbed my eyes. My heart was pounding and an icy shiver of dread randown my spine as the last remnants of a bad dream clung to my thoughts like spider-webs.When I looked up, I could just make out a figure standing in front of the window. A blackshadow outlined against the grey darkness that filled my room by the pale moonlight that fellthrough the partly closed curtains. I screamed and instinctively scrambled backwards until myback hit against the iron frame of the bed. A cold hand pressed down over my mouth whileanother cold hand brushed a strand of sweat-soaked hair from my forehead. “Don't be frightened, it's just me,a familiar voice whispered into my ear. The warmbreath tingled on my skin and sent another shiver down my spine – that one not of fright but agiddy mixture of relief and excitement. Damn the man! The hand lifted from my mouth and thefigure sat down on the bed next to me. “Raoul,” I sighed and reached out to take his hand in mine. It was cold and pale like ablock of marble. Always so cold these days. His sallow skin seemed almost translucent in thesilvery moonlight and his dark eyes glittered with a hidden fire. It surprises me every time howmuch like the man he used to be Raoul still looks while at the same time he is nothing like thatany more. Not since... Well, since Raoul had allowed Callum to turn him into a vampire. Sincehe had been reborn to the blood and eternal night, as he liked to called it. It had happened noteven one year ago. I had been there when his human, infected blood had leaked out of hisbody from his slashed wrists in two crimson rivulets. I had been there when his poor brokenheart had stopped beating. I had been there when Callum had fed his blood to Raoul, when heopened his eyes again and was no longer human.I shivered and pushed those thoughts away. Too much pain and madness had followedand even to this day I could see the lines of doubt and guilt etched deep into Callum's face.Had he done the right thing? Had the price that had been paid to save Raoul from certaindeath been too high? Raoul kept staring at me, his eyes locked to mine. A frown crept into his
expression and he ground his teeth. A dark shadow passed in the depths of those hazel eyesand I wondered what he remembered of the time of madness that had followed his turning.The creature that had woken that night back in February had had nothing in common withRaoul apart from the body and the face. It had been a wild animal in human form, crazed bythe insatiable hunger for blood, dangerous and ferocious. It had to be chained to keep it fromrunning wild and killing innocent people. Callum knew no other way out but to lock it up in adamp storeroom deep down in the cellars that stretched in endless labyrinths underneath hisEdwardian house on Primrose Hill. When Callum had walked up the stairs from the cellar,Raoul's screams echoing behind him that first morning as a pale sunrise coloured the horizon,he looked so heartbroken that I thought he was going to kill both of them. He didn't but hewept as he locked the cellar door behind him. He wept as he called out for Roberto and askedfor extra locks and bars and chains. “What are you doing here?” I finally asked. “Why did you have to sneak up on me likethat? You could've simply rung the bell, you know?” Raoul laughed softly and tilted his head a little. “I hadn't planned on waking you, mydear. I had come to steal one last glance at you before the world ends.”  “Oh, don't start with this nonsense again,” I grumbled but squeezed his hand tight. “It's not nonsense,he protested. “I can feel it in my bones. In a way, it all makessense, doesn't it? The end of an era to purge the earth of the vermin that is humankind. Toend all the vile deeds we deal out to one another all the time, to end the strive and suffering.” I studied his face for a long moment, hung my head and fought the tears that burned inmy eyes. No matter what he did, which choices he made, whatever fame and fortune or lovehe found, the darkness always caught up with him, dragged him down and made him wish fordeath. I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take. It broke my heart. Every time. I stillloved him. He was my friend. “What are you going to do?”  “Ah,” he let go of my hand and got up. He stood with his back to me for a second, thenwhirled around. “Go to a party and dance with death. What else? Isn't that what people expectRaoul Sinclair to do?” He smiled but it was a sad smile and didn't light up his eyes. “You couldcome with me,” he added.The silent plea was only too obvious in his voice. “You could come with me and die withme. Don't let me go alone into that good night.” I shook my head. “No! No, I won't! I don'twant to die, Raoul. Not any more! Wasn't it you who was mad at me for almost dying backthen when I was in hospital, hooked up on machines? Wasn't it you who insisted that life wasworth living despite of all the pain and heartache? Don't do this tonight, please!”  “Yes,he said. The word was a soft whisper in the dark. “Yes, and I meant it at thetime. But... I can't bear it any more, Stefan. The hunger... the madness... they're strongerthan ever. They lurk in every fibre of my body, in every drop of blood in my veins, everythought, every dream, every breath I take. I'm sorry, I just can't... Forgive me, Stefan. Please
forgive me.” He threw me one last look, then turned on his heel and was gone. Into the shadows. Tohis infernal party. To his destruction. His death. “Oh Raoul,” I whispered into the silence aroundme. Tears were running down my cheek and I let them fall. Didn't he know that I had alwaysforgiven him? That I would always forgive him? Forgive yes, but never forget.**********
The shadows led me to my final destination. A derelict red-brick building close to theriver in the south-east of London. Barbed wire topped the walls that ran around it. Thewindows had all been nailed shut. The planks and old cardboard that filled the empty socketsof their unseeing eyes had been painted black and red in turns. The stairs that ran up to theentrance was covered ankle-deep in shards of broken glass. They glittered in the moonlight asI stood underneath a street-lamp on the other side of the road. My throat was tight and myeyes burned with tears I could not cry. Damn the boy! Leaving Stefan was the hardest thing.Had always been the hardest thing. I forced a deep breath and slipped on a pair of darksunglasses. Sunlight gave me a blasted headache these days, blinded me and made my bonesache. It had no power to destroy me but its effects were enough to make me grumpy.I searched the pockets of my leather jacket for a pack of fags. I fished one out of thecrumbled package and lit it with the flick of a match. Being immortal at least meant I could goback to mortal vices. I was still human enough that I could get a thrill out of alcohol, drugs andtobacco but the vampire blood in my veins kept me safe from their devastating side-effects Ihad known so well not that long ago. I stood smoking my cigarette down to the butt, justwatching and thinking. This was it then. The end of the world. The last day. Armageddon. Thelast curtain call. My final goodbye. I closed my eyes briefly. At once images of mass destructionflashed up in my head. Fire raining from the darkened sky as bombs fell. A hot wind that blewthe sickly stench of death and rotting flesh into my face as another Atomic Bomb explodedbehind the horizon. Waves, taller that the skyscrapers Prince Charles had called blemishes onthe face of London, that rolled over the city, drowning everything and everyone it their wake.Screams of desperation, of pain rang in my ears. I could smell the smoke as cars, houses andbodies burned. I could hear the beating of enormous wings as the dark angles of death sweptdown from the Heavens with their flaming swords of justice. I opened my eyes again.Everything was like it had been yesterday and the day before. Decayed, yet beautiful in itsinjured and faded glory. The remains of days gone by next to the monuments to a concreteand glass future which caught the first sunlight and glittered like so many diamonds. Why wasit that I didn't see gold but only cheap lamé wherever I looked?I began to shiver. The night had been cold, just around freezing and the day promisedto be almost as cold. My breath painted little white clouds into the air close to my face and I

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