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 Julian's Lullaby

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Summer Parker-Pearson

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Age : 22
Location : The Shadow World

PostSubject: Julian's Lullaby   Sun Dec 26, 2010 2:09 pm

WARNING FOR SEXUAL REFERENCE AND ADULT CONTENT!

Julian's Lullaby

"Hush child, the darkness will rise from the deep
And carry you down into sleep
Child, the darkness will rise from the deep,
And carry you down into sleep.

Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty
Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty only to me…"

-"Mordred's Lullaby" by Heather Dale


Chapter One

Waiting For Her

He's there waiting for her as she knows he would be. Julian, her beautiful fallen angel. Real. Alive at last.

Hell is often portrayed as a red-hued place of fire and brimstone, but she knows this to be false. Hell is green, hell is dank and chill, a cavernous realm of green mist and stone walls and watery floors, a place where the cold air lays clammy hands upon her skin, causing its surface to pucker in response. She finds herself drowning in this mist, this incandescence, being pulled under to a watery grave, until she hears it at last. A lifeline. Two words spoken in an arrogant, impatient voice that nevertheless has branded itself into her soul.

"Come here."

And Jenny Thornton obeys.

He unfurls an elegant hand in a lazy, languorous gesture; she finds herself irresistibly drawn towards him.

She's dreaming, she knows this. She is still wearing her nightdress; dank water is seeping through the bottom hem of the translucent material, staining it by slow inches. Her bare feet are numb with cold.

It's like moving through sea mist, pale green and cloying, its damp tendrils entwining her like the coils of a snake. And through it all, his angular figure emerges, relaxed as she has ever seen it, but she senses him watching, waiting. She stares at the alabaster skin of his elegant neck before it disappears beneath the high, outdated collar, the line of his graceful, narrow shoulders beneath the ruffled shirt. Just the same as he had been, a fully formed embodiment of everything she hated and most loved.

But I'm not a child any more.

Yes, Julian has certainly seen to that.

In the eerie light of the chamber, his dark eyes have taken on an odd hue. The blue tint in Julian's eyes is like the surrounding mist, secretive and shrouded, contained and containing. But there's a hunger lurking within those irises that even he cannot fully conceal. Oh, his heart is bleeding for revenge.

And now, at last, he has his chance.

She can't breathe, she's so afraid. She's faced danger before, but this is different. Before she was fighting for Tom.

But for some reason, she doesn't want to think about Tom, even though he is the only one who probably understands what it is like to be haunted.

Perhaps, if she hadn't met Tom, she would have pitied Julian. But no one can pity Julian. He would hate her for even trying.

Up close, his pale skin is almost translucent, and she reflects that even after everything he's still the most handsome boy she's ever seen.

It doesn't make her any less afraid of him.

"Jenny." The name is breathed between them, low and compelling.

She tries to speak and manages only one word. "How?" The sound of it is thrown around the cavernous walls, echoing over and over. How, how, how.

He smirks, a demon's smile on an angel's face. "Did you really think you could rid yourself of me so easily?"

She shakes her head, numbly. She's never been rid of him, never, never.

His expression becomes musing, contemplative. "I survived, Jenny, because you did. I poured my soul into you. You should be honoured, Jenny." The familiar name sounds so terribly wrong in his cruel, caressing tones.

"Yet you died." Her voice is hoarse, yet she throws all the mockery she can into it. "Does that still sting, Julian?"

"Don't attempt to provoke me, Jenny." He merely sounds impatient. "You never could."

The curt dismissal causes her cheeks to burn with humiliated anger.

He moves towards her with a sensual, serpentine grace. She swallows hard, suddenly feeling terribly open and exposed. His eyes rake over her, relishing in her discomfort.

"Scared, Jenny?"

"No," she lies.

He laughs at her transparent denial. "Show some of that famous courage."

Courage? Where is it now? She has changed in the last four years. But now all the things she's become, the things she's striven to be, are meaningless. Her bravery, her passion, her tenacity… it all receded the moment she set eyes on him once more. No one can stand against Julian and win. He said so himself.

No one else can stand against Julian and want to lose.

She shudders.

"My," he murmurs, eyes raking over her, and suddenly she doesn't feel eleven at all. "How you are changed, Jenny." He regards her thoughtfully. "And yet… not so very different, after all."

"You're wrong," she says, her voice shaking with hatred. "I am different. You can't fool me like you used to. I know who you are, I know what you are -"

His too-thin mouth is pulled into a smile. "Who said anything about fooling you? I think it's fairly obvious what I want. Don't you?"

She's going to scream.

His light figure moves easily towards her, a combination of lithe grace and predatory resolve. A pale light flares in his dark eyes. Oh, not for her, she knows him better than that. No, he's relishing what he's going to do, this meticulous revenge he has been so long devising.

"I have waited a long time for this moment."

She doesn't beg for mercy. She knows he has none. The silver ring flashes in the gloom, a chilling reminder of what he's capable of doing, even to those closest to him.

Especially to those closest to him.

She stumbles backwards, sloshing through the dank water that swirls around the flimsy material of her nightdress. The cold wracks through her body, through her bones, but she doesn't care. Nothing in her brain but run, run, run -

She has to get back - back up to -

Julian hasn't moved; he's merely standing in the same position, watching her with a kind of malicious amusement.

"Going somewhere?" he smirks.

She stops dead, icy fingers curling into fists as she struggles to swallow down her fear. He knows she can't run from him. And there is nobody coming to rescue her; even he can't save her from her own mind. Just a dream, she tells herself forcefully, just a dream, just a dream -

"You're nothing," she says, with a conviction she does not feel. "You're an illusion, a fantasy -"

She can see she has angered him by the thinning of his mouth into a tight line, but his voice is lazy and deceptively soft. And his slanting eyes hold a strange kind of triumph. "I am everything you ever wanted."

Julian's arms are crossed as he regards her coolly. "Run if you will. Be a little coward. Shame yourself. But do you really think you can get away from me up there?"

He has moved closer. Although he has not laid a hand on her, her skin is humming with sensation. Her breathing is thick and heavy in her ears.

"That is not your world," he hisses. His low, mesmerising voice enfolds her like the veiling embrace of the mist; telling her that she belongs in the darkness and whispers and empty spaces. She's shivering violently in her thin nightdress, the gauzy fabric soaked to the knees, rendering it almost transparent. Her hair is hanging down in damp, snaky locks, the only thing of colour and life in this shrouded world.

She wants to reach out and touch him, convince herself that he too is an illusion, but he isn't faded or blurred around the edges, but defined and solid and so very, very real.

There has been something broken inside her ever since that day, the day Julian died; a shard, a fragment embedded within her like a fang driven through her heart. She has never been able to rid herself of it, only cover it in brittle smiles and sleep inducing medicine. And in the above world of sunshine and sweet things and sunshine, the darkness laughs, waiting, biding its time.

That time is now.

Julian's pale, narrow face is very close to her own. She can see herself mirrored in his dark gaze. The white hair falls into his eyes as he leans over her. She can imagine the feel of the lightly muscled shoulders and arms, the tense strength they are capable of holding.

If she moves just a little closer, she would not need to imagine -

She jumps violently as he traces a slow line along her cheekbone, in a gesture that is somehow as sensual as it is cruel. "No one knows you, Jenny," he says softly. "Not like I do." And she can taste his words: blood and ink and bittersweet poison. Sickness twists inside her stomach, and something else, something cloying and insidious that creeps through her fingers and toes, compelling her to stand and listen to what he's saying and submit to it willingly.

She has poured out her soul to him, and he has never given it back. He is embedded inside her now, running like ink through her veins.

She will never be free again.

To be continued...
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Jenny

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PostSubject: Re: Julian's Lullaby   Mon Dec 27, 2010 2:12 am

I know your fanfiction, I've seen them on another page. And I'm really excited!

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6375843/1/Julians_Lullaby

That is your right?
Great story! Surprised
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Summer Parker-Pearson

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Location : The Shadow World

PostSubject: Re: Julian's Lullaby   Mon Dec 27, 2010 2:50 am

Yep that's me. I wanted to try this place out for my Julian's Lullaby. It's great to see you've read it already! Are you on fanfiction? Did you review?
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Summer Parker-Pearson

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PostSubject: Re: Julian's Lullaby   Mon Dec 27, 2010 4:09 am

Chapter Two

For Her Own Amusement


Animal instinct takes over. She raises a hand to strike him, but he's too fast; catching at her wrist, his nails digging savagely into the skin. He smirks as she cries out.

"Don't be difficult, Jenny. I don't want to have to spill any more of that blood than is necessary. After all, it is of some worth to me."

Worthless. She looks down into the water that pools around her feet, illuminated by the light-that-is-unlight. Her reflection, blurred and wavering, stares back. A shadow darkens across the rippling surface and she stiffens. She raises her head.

Julian is looking at her curiously. "You are nothing to me," he murmurs. "Less than nothing. Yet I cannot deny there was a certain… pleasure in twisting you to my will. To think you were like darting fire, so brilliant and vivid, and then reduced to nothing but a ghost by the time I had finished with you." He breathes a soft laugh.

Hatred boils up inside Jenny. She wants to scream, hit him. Yet she remains mute and still, watching the absorbed, concentrated expression on his unreadable face.

"When you first came to me, you were just a tiresome, whining brat… but such potential. Such innocence." He smiles. A lock of white hair falls down to rest against his narrow cheekbone. "There is something so much more fascinating in corrupting an innocent soul than in weak-minded, easily swayed men seeking power. Don't you think?"

Jenny can't breathe. She is shaking with anger at everything he's ever done to her, of innocence lost that can never be regained, of shattered childhood optimism and blighted hopes. Her adolescence has been stained, and will never be clean again. She wants spotlessness, purity. Like the blank sheets of an unfilled diary.

His fingers tighten suddenly, locking around her wrist as he drags her towards him. Startled by the sharpness of the movement, she almost loses her balance, but he braces her effortlessly, his other hand coming to rest on the narrow curve of her hip. It feels like there is no barrier between his fingers and her bare skin, and in spite of how cold his hands are, his touch burns deeper than fire. It eats into her skin, and she feels herself curling up at the edges, like scorched paper. "I was wrong," he says softly. "I did leave your innocence intact in one respect…"

Bile rises in her throat as his full meaning hits her. Her heart is pounding so hard she fears she will choke on it. She can feel the lines and angles of his body where she's pressed against him, the sinuous grace and subtle tension in his lean frame. And she can smell that scent of him, of Julian. She closes her eyes, wondering if this, then, is how he will take his revenge.

He seems to read her thoughts. "You needn't worry," he sneers. "I wouldn't sully myself by touching you."

Her eyes sting with tears of humiliation.

"And yet why sullied?" he continues thoughtfully, almost to himself.

"Oh yes," she says mockingly, choking down a cruel laugh. "Because humanity is so very dirty. Unlike the touch of a Shadow Man."

"Shut up!" he hisses, shaking her savagely. Her hair flies wildly around her face and his fingers are bruising her thin shoulders, but she doesn't stop. If she can make him angry, then she has power over him. It's a rather intoxicating feeling.

He could kill you -

But he hasn't -

She looks up, laughing at his fury even as his assault has left her stunned and breathless. "I bet it kills you, doesn't it? Knowing about what you will become? How monstrous you will be-"

She cries out as he shoves her hard against the wall. Stars explode across her closed lids as the back of her head collides with the stone; she rocks from the impact of it. Nausea roars through her body. And through the blurring dizziness she can sense Julian in front of her, hear him breathing hard. She opens her eyes.

His handsome face is terrifyingly blank; only his eyes are blazing with fury.

"I told you," he says with chilling finality. "To be quiet."

Jenny swallows hard, but obeys. Julian steps easily towards her; and with the cold stone pressed against her back, she cannot retreat… and where would she run to anyway? She feels weak and sick, with barely the energy to remain upright. Gingerly, she reaches a hand to the back of her head. Something is sticky in the tangles of her hair and her fingers come away coated in blood.

She holds out a shaking hand. The crimson drops are the brightest thing in the dim chamber. There's a strange, hungry expression on his face as his eyes follow the movement.

"Is it worth it, Julian?" she whispers. "Is this worth it?"

He doesn't say anything, but in answer takes her fingers with his own and raises them to his lips. She shudders as his tongue darts out, kissing it, tasting it -

Her senses reel. He's consuming her whole. She draws a sharp intake of breath as he nips at her fingers, mouth stained with crimson. Her vision blurs. The eerie light on the walls flickers oddly, like the shimmering scales of a snake… Jenny sways slightly. Her head is pounding, throbbing, and the movement of his mouth against her skin sends ripples through her body down to her very toes -

Oh God, please stop… stop…

But she cannot summon breath, let alone words to speak.

When he finally releases her, she feels drained, sickened. Her entire body is paralysed, as though the venom of a poisonous snake flows through her veins.

Venom. Blood. Ink. Poison.

The blood rushes in her ears. She blinks through a haze of pain. Julian has retreated a few steps, the disturbed water eddying around his feet. There is something horrible about the sight of her own blood on his mouth, vivid as spilled wine.

"Your blood is mine, Jenny," he states calmly. "Just as everything of yours belongs to me. Your mind, your body, your soul. Where I end, you begin. A mere extension of myself."

"You're wrong," she says, tightly. "I'm nothing of you. I'm nothing like you."

He lifts a dark brow. "Oh really? Then I suppose you have nothing to fear if I take a closer look…"

The swift attack leaves her no time to summon any resistance. She doubles over as images teem through her head: herself giving a particularly cutting imitation of Dee; tripping Michael over and sending him sprawling in the mud; angrily taunting Audrey –

She opens her eyes to find Julian gazing at her; his eyes alight with faint amusement. "Singularly nasty behaviour, wouldn't you agree?"

Jenny swallows down a lump in her throat, feeling ill. Nasty… no… He has taken her actions completely out of context –

"That wasn't – it was just a laugh –"

"So you acted only for your own amusement?" His lip curls as he adds musingly, "It looks as though you injured those people quite badly."

"Injured?" Her voice is shrill with disbelief. "You killed people!"

"The stupid little girl I once knew would never have dreamed of doing anything so… malicious," he continues softly. "I wonder how your little friends would feel, knowing who you really are. Your champion, Tom, for instance? Does he know how you still dream of blood drenching your robes at night, the feel of bones snapping beneath your bare hands?" His voice drops to a whisper. "How sweet."

Deprived of any weapon, and unable to match his physical strength, Jenny does the only other thing she can; bracing herself, she tilts her head back and spits fully in his face.

For a moment, deathly silence falls between them. Julian's eyes blaze in his stark white face. His expression of stunned fury causes hysterical laughter to bubble up inside her chest even as his fingers grind against the bones in her shoulder. "You –"

Her shill laugh turns into a cry of pain as his nails break into skin, raking it cruelly. He looks briefly satisfied at that, although mingled with the fury in his eyes, it makes him look slightly crazed.

"You insolent brat," he hisses. "You dare –"

He shoves her away from him in disgust. Jenny hits the ground, hard, gritting her teeth against the pain of it, and glares up at him.

With the sleeve of his shirt cuff, he wipes at his face, staring down at her. She reflects that his elegant, long-fingered hand against the slightly ruffled lace looks almost effeminate, but it doesn't make her any less afraid of him. It just makes her all the more aware of the things he's capable of doing with those hands.

Painfully, Jenny picks herself up, dimly aware of the water seeping through her nightgown, mingling with the streaks of blood welling from the crescent shaped cuts on her shoulders. She's shivering uncontrollably, the damp nightdress clinging to her body providing no warmth. Her forehead is clammy, and she can still feel that dull, throbbing pain where she hit the wall… it would be almost a relief to faint, to find oblivion… or maybe she should just go to where the water is the deepest, to hold herself under, and obliterate him from her mind that way -

"Please stop hurting me." The words escape her before she can stop them.

His eyebrows raise in faint surprise. "You're actually begging? When have I ever listened to your appeals?"

Her white lips frame the answer, never. She can taste the bitter anger on her tongue.

"I hate you," she says, her voice shaking. "I hate you so much I want to die… I hate you, Julian –"

"I know," he says, and he's smiling. He's actually pleased. "I know you do. You've never hated anyone before, have you, Jenny? Oh, you used to complain about people at school teasing you, or the girls whispering in your class, but true hatred… no, it was only me that ever made you feel so strongly, so entirely. You're possessed by the mere thought of me."

"You're sick," she whispers, although he's right.

"Yes," he says lightly.

Humiliation floods her body. She wants to put her hands over her ears, to block out the words he's saying. But curiously, the mockery has gone from his expression. He tilts his head to one side, considering her. His voice is soft, contemplative.

"If I asked you to kill me now, what would you say?"

"Yes," Jenny says, because she hates him and everything ever he's done and going to do.

"If I asked if you wanted to kill me, what would you say?"

Her throat seems to have closed off. His mouth curls into a knowing smile.

"I thought as much."

She stares at that painfully familiar face, with its youthful lines and high cheekbones and eyes the colour of the sky… And she realises, with a rush of hopelessness, that even if she kills him, he still would have won.

Suddenly, she wants her friends. Zach's quiet control, Tom's frank strength, Audrey's loyalty, even Michael with his well-meaning bluster. But they won't come. They stopped caring a long time ago, just like everyone else. All too happy to dismiss her year in hell, to sweep it under the rug and believe in her forced enthusiasm and false smiles. They just think of her as their funny, fierce Jenny, not knowing that hair bright as the sun hides a soul dark as night. As dark as his eyes. If they had looked harder, they would have seen this blackness eating away at her, day by day, year by year. But it's easier for them to believe in her brittle words and glassy smiles.

In the end, Julian is the only one who ever cared, even if it was all a lie.

He's the only one who knows her at all.

To be continued...
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Jenny

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PostSubject: Re: Julian's Lullaby   Mon Dec 27, 2010 5:24 am

No, I've only written a fanfiction and it is here, on this site:

http://theforbiddengame.forumotion.co.nz/t28-the-forbidden-game-the-catch

Ps. Have you also written another fanfiction? Surprised
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Summer Parker-Pearson

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PostSubject: Re: Julian's Lullaby   Mon Dec 27, 2010 7:27 am

Yeah I wrote one another on fanfiction for Forbidden Games. It's called "Remembering Julian". It's just a one-shot about Jenny missing Julian.
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