She knew that she couldn’t out run the beast that was at her back, hunting her so ruthlessly, so relentlessly but every instinct in her told her that if she just took one more step, pushed herself just that little bit herder, went that little bit faster she could escape the beast, the one driving her to lengthen her strides, to regulate her gasping breaths. She knew that even doing her utmost to preserver, she wasn’t infallible, she was human, she made mistakes and sooner or later she was going to trip and fall, be beaten and bruised and when she lay sprawled on the ground waiting for the last suck of her life blood from her veins the beast would resist temptation and instead bring her back from the precipice that she so nearly fell into and fill her with its blood of everlasting life, her very own fountain of youth, a potion to lock her eternally in nights embrace, a poison to her very soul striping away the layers until all that’s left is her base instincts, her instincts to feed on blood, human blood.
Drawing her thoughts back from the fate that surely awaited, she refused to acknowledge that outcome, the outcome that was fast becoming the only one offered, if there were even other outcomes from her tangle with the beast.
Tripping from exhaustion, she could feel the bitter taste of despair on her and feel the welling of tears in her eyes but forced these feelings away and with an unshakable desire to remain human, she tried to force her exhausted and trembling body to obey her frantic minds commands to get up and continue her fruitless fleeing but before she could more than rise to her hands and knees the beast was upon her, flipping her so she lay sprawled on her back and thrusting its frighteningly sharp fangs into the jugular in her throat drank her life sustaining nectar. Within seconds her vision began to dim and her mouth opened in a silent scream.
Just as she was about to sink into deaths welcome arms she felt a warm wetness drip into her mouth and unable to supress the instinctive reaction she swallowed, sensing triumph and pleasure ripple off the beast still poised above her. Knowing resistance was futile in languid state she was surrendered to the beast and relaxed into the darkness letting it surround her and abandoning herself into its welcome embrace.


25 was established in 1997, and since then we have successfully completed numerous short story and poetry competitions and publications.
We receive an overwhelming positive feedback each year from the teachers, parents and students who have involvement in these competitions and publications, and we will continue to strive to attain this level of excellence with each competition we hold.


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