Lusion's Demise

[Soraelna]

This is an experimental story, really, for me. It's in first person, which I usually don't like to do. It is loosly based off of the show Blood+, but you don't need to watch it to understand my story. I'm just using an idea from the show for this story.

[Soraelna]

I was knocked to the ground, my neck landing on a jagged rock. Something snapped; I don’t care to know what. Two feet swam into my vision, black against the newly fallen snow, and my head snapped up, wincing from a wave of pain as I did so. It was a boy whom my eyes found; no older than sixteen. In his artist’s hands held an ashwood naginata, it’s crescent blade glinting dangerously in the little moonlight that filtered through the trees of the forest. I gasped and tried to run, but only succeeded in crawling so my back was against a tree. My right arm was useless to me; it lay limply by my side.
The boy smiled crookedly, showing fangs I never knew he had. Even their pearl surface glinted as he widened his smile; his crimson eyes never leaving my own deep green ones. “Lusion-“ My voice came out raspy and weak. I swallowed to clear my dry throat, just as Lusion raised the naginata with both hands, the point aimed to my exposed chest. “Lusion!” This time my voice was fast and oddly squeaky with my enhanced fear. I raised my arm to shield the blow, bracing myself for the pain. But it didn’t come, entierly.
I lifted my gaze to see what had happened. The very tip of the naginata, perhaps an inch, was lodged in my arm. I ignored the warm blood as it crawled down my arm to land on my lap, concentrating instead on Lusion’s face.
His once beautiful features looked pale and drawn, as if he was fighting off a disease. His tall body was trembling as if it were beyond his control, except for the hands that still held the sword-staff. Then, suddenly, the trembling grew into a violent shaking, pushing the naginata further into my arm. I pulled back with a yelp, scrambling to my feet as fast as my injured form would allow. “What’s wrong?” I asked, still holding on to the belief that my long time friend wasn’t trying to kill me.
His body stopped shaking as I said this, and his head, which had been bowed, snapped up, his face drawn back into a snarl. He seemed to have gone feral. He dropped the naginata and ran towards me, his hands turned up so the nails on his fingers out-stretched like a snake ready to strike. I did the only thing I could, ducked and covered my head with my only useable arm. The sounds of running stopped right in front of me, replaced with heavy breathing. I chanced a look up. Lusion’s arm seemed to be locked in mid-swing; his now pointed claws just above me. The look from before was back, pained and sickly. He jumped back with a growl and hunched over, scratching at the place where his heart would be. From what I could see through my confused tears, it looked like his mouth was bleeding.
His growl became louder and he lunged towards me again, blood streaming from his yawning lips. His fangs were even coated with it. He grabbed my unhurt shoulder hard and his other hand on the opposite shoulder blade. His fangs came down so fast that I couldn’t react. I screamed out in pain as they struck my fractured collarbone. I heard as they scraped across the bone, a sound magnified in my mind from the searing pain; the vibrations traveling along my spine. I almost thought he would never let go. When he finally did, I stumbled back, watching as he sped away with an almost inhuman gait. As my vision blacked out and I fell, I could only utter one thing:
“Lusion, I still…”