Hidden {{Casper}}

[landon]

Darness lurked. Not a single spot was illuminated. Not a single light shined. Just endless darkness engulfing the dead of the night. The moon hid behind clouds, and as did the stars, as if they were all afraid of this one meaningful boy. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked alone in the formidable night. He was hidden in the deep blackness that would have taken the breath of another. It was a claustrophobic beauty to him, being in the dead of the night. A haven that only he would seek comfort in.

Landon Riddle. He scoffed as he thought of that. A name worthy of the Dark Lord's son. He tilted his head to the side as he walked. His eyes stared at nothing, for they could barely see nothing, though he knew where he was going, could feel before he bumped into a tree, could sense where roots grew. He glided in the forest as he reminisced thousands of things at once. Thousands of drowned thoughts that just needed to be let go, into the darkness. He had discovered who he really was six years ago. An insolent, dark mother had told him such. Destined to follow in his father's footseps, she cooed. A crazy witch she was. But she was right about one thing. Landon was filled with ominous power.

Now all he had to do was wait. For the right time to be unleashed. Though his name was Riddle, no one really made the connection in their heads. Just the way Voldemort wanted it. Good old dad. He grimaced at that thought. The dark lord, making the ultimate weapon. A son only slightly less powerful than him, and filled with the same hatred. A son that also carried shattered pieces of his soul. A second Dark Lord. All he had to do was wait until his time at school was over. Wait for when his time to rule by his father's side came.

[Casper St. James]

The clouds in the sky had hid the moon. It was a gibbous moon tonight and the clouds took away the opportunity that Casper had to view the moon before it became full. It was the only night of the lunar circle that Casper wouldn't go near the forest or mountains. Never before has she despised the clouds so much. They had taken away one of her greatest comforts and replaced it with shrouded darkness. It clawed at her throat, gagging her sense of safety, clouding her eyes to any good. She was alone.

Standing up from her forsaken position on the lawns, she looked once more up at the sky before disappointedly returning her gaze to the area around her. What was she to do now? No way could she sleep, she hasn't slept in ages for more than an hour and that was always between 2 and 4 pm. At that moment it was midnight and she was already out passed her curfew. A horrible decision considering she was already hiding the fact she was halfblood from the dark authoritarian government, but she had to or she would succumb to paranoia and restlessness.

Wandering about, she managed to let her feet carry her all the way to the darkened forest. It was a shadowed place more so than the lawns itself. She didn't care about that much. Wandering away from the border of the forest, she moved slowly and graciously through the forest, stepping over the overgrown roots, ducking beneath the low branches, and brushes her pale fingertips over the bark of the forest. Her silver eyes stuck out like a sore thumb and her pale skin was just enhanced in the dark night. Her black tee shirt and faded jeans were hardly noticeable.

But one wrong move had her stumbling over a root and crashing onto the ground. Ouch...She groaned sitting up where she fell, rubbing the side of her head where her dark brown, almost black, hair fell in soft waves down her head.

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[landon]

He stopped. He felt its presence before he saw the human. Felt the fall before it occurred. Could see the sound she made before she made it. He was only yards away, though excluded in the darkness. Anger boiled through him in that one instant that he sensed her, smelled her disturb the air. It was so unfortunate that she had to fall in front of him, just when he was reminiscing about all the right in his life...and all the more wrong there was than right. He smirked. One smirk, and one low hmph sent shivers down any person's spine. The king, he was, of Slytherin, the king who was heir, as his father was, the one who was more respected and the one everyone feared. Landon smirked as he pulled out his black wand. One flick, and the black forest burst into light.

The light that produced from his wand was more powerful than an average student's light, when produced. How ironic, the evil held the most light in their wands. At least he did. He took two steps toward the girl, his wand pointed right at her. A delicious feeling of power licked through him, and it was just so bliss, feeling himself tower over her insignificant body on the floor. That's all it was...just another worthless body, carrying yet another ordinary soul. Nothing important. Nothing to cry over. But it was just so fun to watch it writhe in fear. Maybe Landon needed to have a little fun.

"Well, well...aren't you looking just about ready to die?"

[Casper St. James]

Her body moved to a comfortable position, rearranging her legs mainly. Instead of basically sitting on her legs, she moved it so she could pull her knees close to her body. It provided some comfort for the lack she felt that night. Something was near her though. She couldn't tell what it was, but she could hear the breathing that escaped from its throat ever so lightly. And the feeling of a presence was there, intruding in her time that she granted to no one but the world around her. She withdrew from society along time ago and she wasn't about to go back.

Then, to make matters worse, the intruder shone light brighter than any light she had seen in a while directly into her eyes - which caused a sharp intake of breath on her part. Silver eyes nonetheless. The lighter the eyes are the more sensitive they are to light, that's why Casper wished dearly for dark eyes, that was she wouldn't be cooped up indoors most of the time during the day. Silver eyes closed. Silver eyes burned. The light was so bright she couldn't see the caster of the magical ray. No longer dialted her eyes were, the black pupil constricted so much it looked almost as if her iris swallowed it up. It created a cool look seeing as the silver almost blended in with the white.

Lifting her hand a bit to shield some of the light from her eyes, she could tell from his pants and shoes, and the voice of course, that the caster was a male. That's all she knew. Oh, and that he obviously intended her harm. Obviously I wouldn't know since I can't see myself. Her thoughts voiced but she kept her mouth shut. How about you, Sir, what do you look like? she questioned sarcastically but her voice was quiet and emotionless. Just the words she spoke shone with sarcasm.

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[landon]

He laughed. It wasn't high pitched, like his father's, but it was filled with as much earth-shattering coldness as Voldemort. He scoffed at the thought. Like father like son, eh? He was cursed to be the one to curse, damned into damning the weaker. So it came to a surprise to him that she did not recoil, though it took her long to adjust to the light. Well...as it would have it...she couldn't see him. That was apparent by the way she squinted. The words that followed made him scowl with rage. Not only was he no longer alone...but he was accompanied by a foolish smartmouth. If she wasn't careful, he could get a little too carried away. He dropped his wand hand to his side, so that the light cast to the ground, and away from her. Landon was not ready to kill. As much as he should have been, he was ashamed by the small fact that he most certainly wasn't. The thought of hurting a person, torturing, anything...it was far more appealing to him then the thought of death. As worthless as he saw each and every one of the pathetic humans that surrounded him...he couldn't help but hate the thought of killing them.

He gave her his profile and sighed angrily. She didn't want to kill her, but he sensed that she could get him angry enough to do just that. And why let her? She was, after all, just another insignificant nobody. "Just about ready to do just that," he whispered, before he turned away. Better to be left reminiscing, without the fun, then to watch the soul disappear and the soulless body fall.

[Casper St. James]

Blinking a bit when the light had taken its piercing glance away from her face, she rubbed her now closed eyes wishing that she would stop seeing little flecks of blue and black. She still couldn't see him when her eyes adjusted back to the dark. She looked up with her silver eyes that seemed to peer from the darkness and only saw a clouded form. Did he seem to blend in with the shadows that well? Or was her eyes just really affected from that bright of a light?

He whispered something and began to walk off. Curiosity swelled within her and she wanted nothing more than to just go after the guy and find out who he was. But, if he was truly part of the dark side, wouldn't he find out her heritage and end up throwing her to a painful death or worse, slavery? Rumors of what happened to the golden trio didn't bypass her ears and she knew of the stories. Even though she withdrew from society she still watched them. She became the silent observer: the ghost. Casper the Friendly Ghost. How ironic.

Sighing, she stood up and began to walk west of the direction the boy had began to face. Her barefeet felt the dirt squish underneath the pressure she pressed against it and any objects that separated her from the rich soil. When she felt as though he wouldn't hear her - which was poor judgement in her case - she began a small song, just to pass the time. She really needed to get over this insomniac case.

Beneath the veil of starry sky,
As cold as winters' darkness night.
It's there you sleep silently,
You're all alone.

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Her voice was quiet but seemed to echo in the empty darkness. It wasn't flawless but she had talent. But she sang only when alone, or at least, when she thought she was. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/color]

youtube.com/watch?v=zkK5ggbc-rk&feature=related <--- it's a pretty song X P

[landon]

His footsteps were silent enough for him to hear hers, however quiet they may have been. He didn't strain to hear, it was just the instinct he had. He scowled at the ground. Great. Now a girl had him reminiscing even more. About who he was. About why he wasn't normal, and why he didn't exactly know what to think about that fact. He let out a small groan. Just when he thought he was getting used to the fact of being the heir of Voldemort. He was dark, wasn't he? Everyone certainly sensed it. His own father treasured him for it. Branded him in a way no Death Eater could be branded. There was no Mark on his left wrist. Only another being dwelling in his own self. Only his soul merged with another. He was truly a serpent, and he had to embrace that power, the way any other dark man would have embraced it. He should have just killed her.

But he couldn't. It wasn't like he hadn't ever killed before. He had. Once. As proof of who he was. Landon was delusional, and he was eleven. All he wanted was a dad. All he got was a man who sentenced him to a living hell. Landon could feel the evil rush through his veins. He could even feel the pleasure of someone else suffering. He could feel it, he could even enjoy it...but he hated it. He hated it so much, knowing who he was, what he was damned to be, and yet he valued it so much. He was someone. He was meant to be someone, and no one could stop him. Landon would rule.

Song broke through his train of thought. He jerked his head to the side, pointing his still bright wand in the direction of the voice. It was the girl, no doubt about that. He didn't sense any other presence but hers. A sneer lifted in his face. What was that stupid little female thinking? There were creatures at this time at night in the forest that would gladly have her for a midnight snack if she made too much sound like that. He sighed. He wasn't about to kill her, but he wasn't going to save her either. And yet...her voice was just so annoyingly good. He let out a groan. Why now? She had to catch him now when he was vulnerable and so very human. He grimaced and followed the voice, turning the light of his wand off as he walked. "I would shut up if I were you," he called angrily after her.

[Casper St. James]

Her thin and dainty fingertips brushed against the leaves of the forest, she becoming a mere shadow amongst the forest floor. No one would see her where she stood, not even the tree bark could feel her as she dragged her rigged fingers across its rough surface. The soft skin of the flesh prickled with an uneasy satisfaction of feeling something else so rough brush against her skin, threatening to hurt it in a way that it never will. Her mind was here and there and she just wanted someone to enter this enclosed bubble of loneliness she had enclosed around herself.

Her voice sung a song of unrequited loneliness and a soft tone to match it. She was soft and walking amongst the presence of supposed evil. Everyone left her song and soon it was just her watching others from the confines of bars and notes. Whenever someone told her they would be back or they cared she couldn't help but mentally laugh caustically and think liar liar pants on fire. And not only would she think it but the confines of notes and scales would just create it into a twisted song that repeated itself over and over in her mind.

His voice broke the air and her dark thoughts disappeared in an instant. She wasn't evil, no, she wouldn't hurt a fly, but she knew better than that to trust no beauty except the beauty of the grounds and sky. No one in her mind was beautiful, they were all liars. His voice was irritated, it was plain to see. She didn't care, he couldn't tell her what to do, no matter what happened to her anymore. Was this some form of a resolve she was experiencing? She didn't know. You'd be surprised, Sir, at how alone you can be in a forest. And with that soft but loud enough spoken phrase she kept walking until she reached a tree a couple feet away and leaned against it, peering into the darkness of an abyss.

Besides, you're being louder than I am. A small laugh escaped her as she thought of the irony of that.

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[landon]

The singing stopped, and he wasn't sure if he preferred it, or regretted shutting her up. But at least there was silence again. At least his mind stopped clouding over with thoughts of the girl, and her singing, and the unimaginable things that might have happened to her if a dark creature would have fancied her singing. He thrust his hands into his pockets, his right hand twisting around his wand and holding it firmly. Maybe it would have been exquisite to think something out there was torturing her. He shrugged and rolled his shoulders, moving his head from side to side, and blinked his hazelred eyes. Eyes that were once a mix of silver and brown. Eyes that once belonged to a human. Landon was no longer human. He wasn't meant for it. He was one baby step away from being inhumane, and having the same crimson eyes as the man he both detested and adored.

His head clouded over again, and at first he thought he was finally falling into drowsiness after days of sleepless nights. But her words had started to echo though the thick layer of fog that him resisting all thoughts. Landon stopped. She wasn't far away. He was certain she had meant to walk away from him, but his silent footsteps had carried him in an arc that led to where she stood. He could make out her outline. A grimace grew on his face. Stupid little girl. Did she not understand just how luscious her voice was? Yes...that's what it was. It was luscious. That's why his mind faded. He lifted his head to look at her outline again. Let her keep believing she was alone, though he was merely a couple yards away. He leaned against a tree away from hers, too quiet in the night. He was the night. It was where he belonged, in the darkness of the dark, and it's what he was.

Her voice shattered the silence again, and it was like an electric shock that reverberated through his body, past through his limbs and swam through every veins. He felt the rush of air suck in him, the pulse in his head, the twist in his stomach. Anger. He twisted around the tree, and was fast in front of her. One arm was at either side of her head, his palms on the bark of the tree. He leaned in to look into her dazzlingly bright eyes, and the deadly fire in his ignited. "Am I?" he whispered with dangerous fascination. "You will shut up...if you have any means to live."

[Casper St. James]

Next thing Casper knew was that she was being pinned to a tree, a fist on either side of her face. Looking at the man's left fist first, her eyes trailed up his muscular arm before trailing up his collarbone to his neck to finally his face which sent her body into a swirl of emotions at the same time. Hazel eyes glared piercingly down at her and yet, at the same time, they had a swivel of red consuming them. His face was chiseled to perfection, brown hair that she wanted to touch to see if it was softer than the man himself. His skin was pale, not as pale as hers, but still, pale. A hand of hers reached up ready to touch his face, just to see if the beauty of the beast was actually there and not a figment of her imagination. She lowered her hand before she was able to confirm the mirage thinking that if this was reality, he would kill her.

His eyes never left her; her own silver eyes peered back up at him, her dark hair falling past her shoulders, framing the soft skin of her face. Attention was on them. His attention focused mainly on her. It was uncomfortable. Not the proximity of their bodies, but the fact that he was there, talking to her, treating her like another human being that probably got into his way one too many times. But she was being acknowledge good or bad and it was still very weird for her. It made her immediately want to crawl from under his entrapment and go take cover near a different tree. She always blended into the darkness when she sat near a tree and pulled her knees to her chest, tucking her chin into the cavern she had scooped out.

Her soft voice returned to her throat and she felt that she strum her vocal cords once more. I guess this means that I don't have to shut up do I? It was true, she lost her father and basically her mother and brother who ignore her. All she had left was a curiosity that was never satisfied. Knowing her luck no one would even noticed she was gone. Knowing her luck, no one would even truly care. It was a time of war. A time where when someone went missing they were presumed dead. And she was halfblood so there would be no searchparties.

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[landon]

He meaningfully stared at her, with his hard eyes of fire, to scare her, to make her shake. Make her cower against the tree, breaking eye contact. Make her beg for release, and mercy. It's what any sane human would have done. Instead...she stared back. He could feel her eyes taking in everything, his arm, his face. It fell into a neutral stare. She wasn't normal at all...or as normal as a person could get when they wander at night. Did she even fear? The fire in his eyes flashed with sudden curiosity. Landon had never known someone who didn't fear him. Even the sun, even the moon, and especially the stars, cowered at his presence. There were even people he had never met before who stared at him with recognition and fear. He was an ominous thing. So it was natural that when he came face to face with this girl, it surprised him to no end that she barely flinched at his presence. She barely moved.

It was her stillness that made him notice. The rising hand caught his attention first. It rose, as if in slow motion, and he inhaled just as slowly. He released flowing carbon dioxide in a deep exhale. Before he could think, his hand had caught her wrist. What a tiny wrist. His fingers could lock so easily around it. He caught her so quickly, he didn't even notice it. Just the movement. Just the blood pumping under his fingers. The sound of the river of blood hissed in his ears. Insufferable sounds. He longed to break the flow. His hand squeezed the wrist gently, then harder, and the rush turned into a gentle gurgle as her hand began to turn cold. Again, he hadn't noticed he'd done it. He barely noticed he was touching her. His eyes had remained glued to her own silver hues. Now they had spilled into physical contact...his left hand, her right. How curious...the first time he had touched anyone in...so long.

Her voice trickled his mind back into the reality of the situation. Who he was...who she was...it clicked in his mind. He was a predator in the dead of the night...and she was his prey. His eyes formed into a deadly glare, a glare that would have manic death eaters become petrified with fear. His hand slammed back to the tree, her wrist still tucked between his fingers. He tilted her head up slowly with a long, cold finger. "Don't you?" he repeated in a deathly whisper. She was clearly saying one thing--she welcomed death. He lifted an eyebrow, letting his curiosity show on his face for the first time that night. "Pathetic," he whispered, slowly starting to analyze her lack of fear, and coming to assumed conclusions. "You don't fear because you welcome it...that is so pathetic." His next words were just him reminiscing out loud-- he did not speak to her, only thought of what her situation was."Why would any creature waist their time killing something that already wants to be dead?"