Rachel Carroll “Black Feather”

About the Author:

‘Ello mates, I guess I should tell you all a little about myself before you read this VERY short story that I wrote in college last quarter (And I really mean short, hehe). I live in Ohio with my parents and siblings, a state known for its annoyingly unpredictable weather. I’m 22 years of age, and will be 23 in November. I’ve always loved writing stories, even in kindergarten, and wish to one day be a writing as well known as my favorite author Sherrylin Kenyon. My mother’s paranormal romance book collection was my first glimpse into erotically written stories, and is still my ultimate favorite works of writing.

This story is based on a poem I wrote many years ago, which made it easy for me as an assignment to write a one-page short story for my Creative Writings class. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! PLEASE give me feedback, and of course the constructive kind.

BLACK FEATHER

By Rachel Carroll

Piercing eyes of crimson red stared down at the slumbering head of a human child, their depths glowing with an inner fire. The owner of the eyes cocked her head from either side like a bird, unevenly cut ebony hair falling in numerous lengths over a heart shaped human face. But when the child mumbled incoherently and rolled over in its sleep, those sensual blood stained lips spread into a wide grin, serrated teeth glinting in the moonlight that washed over the room from a window the being had snuck in through.
The leather-clad being silently stalked forward, her booted-legs easily passing over the toys that littered the child’s bedroom. Once standing behind the dreaming ten-year-old, she then slipped under the covers and rested on her side next to the little one. She leaned close, her nostrils flaring as she breathed in the innocently sweet scent that was the child’s.
“My name’s Samantha, what’s your name?” the child’s voice rang out through the room, even though it had come out as a whisper. The older female nuzzled at the back of her neck, a shuddering hot breath washing over the child’s skin. Silence reined as if the child hadn’t spoke, the darkness encompassing the room seeming to thicken and force out the moonlight.
“Raven,” she said after the long hush, her voice pitched so low that the child almost thought she had imagined it.
“That’s a pretty name,” said the little girl, before suddenly rolling over to face Raven. The being hissed softly at the unexpected change of position, but then went silent as she stared into warm honey eyes. No fear filled those eyes as they took in her dark appearance, only pure curiosity. “You’re pretty too,” she said after a moment, a cute smile quirking those small lips. Raven’s own lips stayed neutrally closed, her crimson eyes flaring like a blazing fire even as the rest of her face continued to appear like a blank canvas. When it became obvious to Samantha that the woman didn’t talk much, she yawned wearily and curled up on her side, all the while still watchful. “Are you a dream?” she asked after a few more passing moments of silence. Raven blinked once at the question, but didn’t answer yet again. The child gave another long yawn and closed her eyes. This made the being lean closer to that sleeping face, her warm breath puffing over the little one’s face. “Your breath stinks. Nighty night, Rae.”