Love of the Immortals- The First Contact.

For many years I have lived unidentified from humans. Killings have brought hate to this world and all that was good no longer rises. To have seen so many deaths, more than I care to admit I have witnessed but the world has not stopped nor has my heart.

Until one day......

The sirens blare through my ears as another murder has occurred but as usual the killer, the bringer of innocent death is left unidentified. Blood trailing off of the ground to once more vanish into thin air. I sat at my window staring at the moon and stars blistering the pure, lavender black sky, the sirens echoes fading slowly.

I am weak, hoping for the hope of my parents, for not to be caught, for they will vanish each time. It is not easy being an immortal, depending on the existence of humans, who kill and murder our kind, to live and breathe breaths of pure evil. But not all of us depend on them, some of us are special, unique you may say. Some of us hope for another's hope to live on their own, to make this world hope they exist. Impossibilities is something I love to imagine as my hope. Love of another immortal is what I hope for, this is what I exist on. The love of one that never existed but in my head shall live on.

My parents appear in the mansion we call our home. Bleeding as if they'd actually had to fight but providing a glance of good. They could continue killing but humans will always be there just like we will as well. I do not greet them, I saunter my way towards the door, passing them as if they were ghosts for which I both hope and rebuke. In the mist of the darkness I listen as the wind pry on my relentless soul to wonder. My soul that they would sacrifice for the darkened good of our kind, the good that has no limit or word in life. Sighing I close the door but this wind was as stubborn as me. Filling my heart with hope that love of another immortal still existed, perhaps the one I see every night in my dreams, the one whose face I can never remember after Awakening, Looking around as my parents have once again vanished, I ran out into the open, a world filled with impossibilities.

The wind seemed to carry me as I climbed to the very top of my mansion, to the top of my very hope. Should I fall may my weakness vanish but somehow release me from this sickening world, should I trust my own heart.

I hear a voice, a whisper, something that is foreign, that is unknown to my mind and ears. A young immortal's voice or thoughts, something that i have longed to hear. He says, "I shall comfort you, as you live on my hopes, my existence." Impossibly how could he know what I live on, how could he know what I want for this world.  But as I said impossibilities is what I hope for. "Where you stand and where I stand, cannot make comforts meet, but cursed is the day that we meet, for comfort would hold as much value as us immortals hold the human's lives."

Words held no meaning to t he feeling that impulsed me that day. This immortal, this creature that I have never met, today comes to my mind welcomed only by the unforgiving wind. It was out first contact, but as the moon is never promising, it will certainly not be our last. For as four glass piercing, neon blue eyes meet on the day of the fallen, my world shall mean no more than of this immortal and as the humans say, our good will triumph over the evil that stands forever in this world.