Lady of the white

Lady of the white

Chapter 1


The wail of the banshee echoed. She stood on a hill top, her long white hair and cob-web dress blowing in the wind. There was but a trace in her pale face that some good still existed, that not everything had been lost. Although she knew there was only half banshee inside her, doubt still loomed in her mind like a black cloud producing rain. She knew, felt that beyond the horrid image of a demon, there was still hope, a chance to turn back what had been done. She didn't have much time as her comrades were hunting her, desperate to learn from their one mistake, to fix the one imperfection in their race of undead. She was the only good one, and that was enough of a reason to be hunted. They would make no mistake in turning her a second time.

The nights breeze blew across her face and nipped at her neck, giving her just a taste of the past life that still lurked in her mind. She had memories of a tall dark man and a young boy, who she assumed were her husband and son. They were all that kept her alive. Once that part of her was gone, there would only be the retched witch that clawed at her insides, dying to get out and cause destruction. She was honest to admit to herself that she was scared, and that there was no escaping the power of evil, the power that gives certain people a hold over others. She knew it was inevitable. Eventually, they would come for her and destroy the only flaw that kept her from going insane. She came to the conclusion that she had to accept her fate, but she had some time to pass. She wanted to go and see the things that kept her good part alive, the things that would be gone by midnight.

Not too far away, the sky was darker and empty. There were six or seven figures, cloaked within the dead night. The only thing that gave them away was their white eye's, souless and fatal. They flew together like a flock of birds, searching below for the smell and taste of their half-human sister. It wouldn't be long before they found her, and with the howel of their cries, changed her completely. They were more jellous than anything else, jellous that she could experience some of her past memories and joy's. They considered that to be unfair, and to fix the problem with speed, elliminating anything that could cause a problem for banshees in the future. Banshee's would look back and remember the one who never fully changed, and they would start to doubt the power of their whole race. That couldn't be tolerated. If they couldn't change her, they'd kill her, and consider it for the best.

Below, the half-human/ half-banshee was contimplating on what to do, her nostrels smelling a far distance away, sensing her nearing sisters, or enemies. She wasn't sure what to call them. They had turned her into this vile creature, and for that she hated them, considered them as enemies, but at the end of the day she was part of the undead that haunted the nights, she was part of a new family. If she didn't accept it, she had no chance of moving on. She didn't know what scared her more; that things like banshees actually existed, or that she would be damned for all eternity to haunt humans, and give them the terrible future she must also endure. She would be passing on a plague, and although no one know, she would still be tormented by the countless women she changed.

Banshee's were said to cry for the dead, their screams making ears bleed. She had no idea how truely wrong the stories and legends were; they said nothing about being a pale, monster who constantly feared for the time when she must scream that deathly scream, when she must finally accept that her past life is gone, and all that remains is sorrow. Acceptance is the hardest part. She always knew that. She took to the sky with a flap of her arms, like a bird. She assumed that her presence scared any bird off as the sky was empty.

The wind hit her straight in the face. It was strong, and caused her to fall back into her little world of memories and flashbacks. This time she was seing herself as a child, her brown hair tied in a knot, and trying to see how many times she could vollie a ball. She smiled widely at that memory, wondering where the rest of it was, wishing she could see what her parents looked like. It all made her think. Maybe she shouldn't go and see her husband and son? Maybe, she should drop to the ocean below her, where she couldn't become that dead witch that haunted her dreams? It would to the same outcome of not seing her family, only she wouldn't spend eternity as an evil being. She had no idea where she would be heading, wether it be heaven or hell, or in between, but she was willing to take the risk.

The wind was nipping more at her neck and breasts that were becoming un-hidden as she was falling. She just let herself fall, and fought the temptation to fly back up and towards her old home. She had no idea where she was heading, but that path would soon be found out.