“It has to be around here somewhere.” The werewolf said, readjusting the crowbar on his shoulder for what seemed like the thousandth time, as he tried to make out the names on the headstones around them.
“Why in the hell are we out here in the dead of night anyway?” The man with him whined. Why had he decided to bring him along anyway? Oh yeah, he didn’t feel like being the one being eaten tonight.
“Our presence was requested.” The werewolf replied. If he could, he would kill this foolish mortal himself, but he needed the man to replenish Him from his long rest.
“By who anyway? This is just stupid!” He dropped his shovel on the ground and leaned up against the tree.
The wolf grabbed the man by his throat and hoisted him above the ground.
“Never insult Him that way ever again.” He dropped the mortal on the ground, picked up the crowbar and continued to search the stones.
Fifteen minutes of silence later they happened upon the correct stone. The wolf instructed the man to begin digging. Which lead to a lot of cursing and whining from him.
When the hole was about halfway dug, a thunderous rain picked up.
“Seriously? This is insane! Can’t we just do this tomorrow?” The mortal said as he tried to climb from the hole. The rain had quickly turned the dirt into mud, which was much harder to climb out of. He just ended up sliding back down.
“Why don’t you get down here and help me?” He yelled up at the wolf, as if he had the authority to command him.
“Only since you insist that you can’t do it yourself.” He said, insulting the man’s strength, as he gracefully jumped into the hole.
The man grunted, the irritated man version of “Okay.” At that point he really didn’t care if his manliness was insulted; he just wanted to get out of here.
Both of the men dug shovel after shovel of mud out of the hole until they hit something hard beneath a layer of mud.
The wolf whispered, “Yes. Finally,” as he climbed from the muddy hole with ease to retrieve the crowbar.
The man seemed excited. Probably because he thought that they were going to get out of the rain, but little did he know that he would never be leaving this dreary cemetery.
Once back in the hole, he shoved aside the mud that remained on the coffin and he began to pry the lid off. With his supernatural strength he was able to pop the lid off as if it were nothing more than the lid to a jar.
The man could only stand there in shock and irritation, not even noticing the burst of supernatural strength. “I thought that there was supposed to be gold!” In the coffin lay a rotting corpse that was of little worth to anyone, except the wolf.
“Lord Tempest is a treasure worth much more than gold.” At that, the wolf grabbed and cut open the man’s wrist. The man screamed as the skin was broken but then he quieted down to small whimpering, as if knowing that what was to come was inevitable. The wolf hadn’t the need to kill him, so he only cut so deep as to only let a little trickle of blood flow. He had dreamed of His awakening for many months, knowing that Tempest had been calling him from his prison under the Earth. He held the man’s wrist in his iron grip over the coffin, squeezing his wrist to increase the flow over the corpse’s mouth.
Once the blood touched his lips, the corpse’s eyes burst open and he attached himself to the man’s wrist. The man screamed and tried to shake his grasp with all of his strength, but even as a rotting corpse, there was no way that he was going to get away from the vampire alive. As he gradually took in the man’s blood, the vampire’s rotting flesh began to piece itself back together, and his heartbeat began to quicken as the man’s grew slower, until it gave one last flutter and grew deathly quiet.
The werewolf let go of the man and let him fall in the mud as he rushed to the vampire’s aid. “Are you alright sir? I heard your summons.”
“Yes. I am now, and I am immensely grateful.” The vampire stood, with assistance from the wolf. “What now Wolfram?”
“Now, we align ourselves with the most powerful vampire,” he paused respectfully, “in this day in age.”
“And who would that be?” The vampire asked as he was helped from the hole as the rain continued falling.
The bell completely refused to ring.
It had been one of those terrible days that you just wanted to either curl up in a ball and cry or die in a hole; whichever happened to be easier.
The only boy in the whole entire world that she would ever even consider dating had dumped her because she was ‘too distant and weird’. On the last day of school no less! Two minutes left of this terrible school day and she still wasn’t sure if she was going to survive. She decided to do what everyone else seemed to be doing to distract herself; lean her head against her hand and stare at the clock, counting down the seconds.
She sighed. The only thing that could make this day any worse was…
She felt a cool chill go down her spine. No! Not here! Not now!
She bolted from her seat with a minute left. Mr. Sanders screamed after her as the door began to close behind her. “Abigale Raclaw! Get back here and sit in your seat!”
Abby couldn’t, not with one of them in the school with her! She had to run. In her head she kept chanting, Not here… Not here…
She ducked inside a broom closet on the second floor as the bell signaled the end of this retched school year. Almost immediately, you could hear the sounds of a teen stampede in progress, with everyone trying to get to the nearest door as if there was a fire in the building. There was also a good amount of screaming to go along with it too.
That couldn’t lighten her mood though, as one of them had followed her into the broom closet; as she inevitably known it would.
She gasped for breath as the stench of the newly dead was in the air; sometimes it smelled like hospitals, sometimes like blood, and other times just like rotting flesh, but all had an indescribable scent of death along with it. No matter how many times they appeared, she could never brace herself for the smell. Today’s ghost was an old man with what used to be white hair and kind brown eyes, and he smelled kind of like a hospital morgue.
“Do you know what happened to you?” She asked and braced herself for the reaction of the ghost as taught to her by her grandmother.
“I died.” He said more calmly than she had hoped, and he slowly, gradually disappeared. But before he could completely, he whispered a warning, “Horrible things are in store for you dear Abigale Raclaw, horrible things. Stay on your guard and don’t trust anyone.” He faded then into the Otherworld.
She sighed she had been getting the same message for the past week, along with a larger amount of ghosts. But for now, her job was done. The rest was up to the Deciders. When older people died, they knew that it was their time and they didn’t try to resist the pull of the Otherworld like the young ones did, and all you had to do was ask if they knew what happened. She had once had to help a newborn. It was the most heart wrenching thing that she had ever had to do. The baby had barely moved and had to be fetched by one of the Enforcers who had to carry the baby in ‘manually’ as he put it. The Enforcers were frightening beings but necessary, they prevented all of the hauntings that you see in movies all of the time. Enforcers, when seen by humans, who know nothing of the true afterlife, most times mistook them for demons, but they are very cautious and are only seen in extremely rare cases.
Pulling Abby back to the ‘real’ world, was a knock at the door of the broom closet.
“Abby are you okay sweetie?” A voice that she welcomed asked.
“Yeah Sammy. Come on in.” She smiled as the blonde walked in. Well, in all technicality, she wasn’t a true blonde, because the tips of her spikey blonde were dyed bright pink. Sammy had to readjust her leather skirt as she sat down on the floor with an ‘oof’. Her gothic attire today consisted of, platform boots, fishnet leggings, the previously mentioned leather skirt, an army patterned tank top that accented her green eyes that were surrounded with an absurd amount of eyeliner (to anyone that wasn’t Goth, like them, that is), assorted jewelry and a leather jacket topped it off since the tank top wasn’t school appropriate.
They sat there in silence for a while. Sammy knew enough about the apparitions not to talk to Abby about it until she had time to cool off.
Abby finally sighed after a few minutes and stood, wiping the nonexistent dirt off of her skinny jeans. Sammy had always questioned her use of skinny jeans, saying that they seemed to Diva-ish. She only replied by saying, ‘Hey. They make it much easier to put on platform boots.’ Then the arguments stopped. You can’t deny the results. “I should probably be getting home. Mom will be worried.” She said.
When Sammy stood up too, she pulled Abby into a reluctant hug. Abby started to ask why but Sammy only shushed her and said, “I hate to say, ‘I told you so’ but I told you Goths don’t date jocks.”
“Does everyone in the entire school know?” She almost screamed.
“Yeah, pretty much. The Divas were spreading it like wild fire.” She replied still hugging her. “You just have to remember, he was always destined to be a Diva pet.” The Divas, the school’s ‘popular girls’ had always had it out for Abby and had always been grooming Travis to be their ‘boy toy’. She had tried to steal him away from them, but their pull was just too strong, even for her.
Abby sighed and said, “Come on lets go. I just want to get out of here.”
Sammy pulled Abby with her as she walked out of the closet. They walked over to a window at the end of the hall that opened to the fire escape. They always went that way when they wanted to avoid people. Everyone did. It was kind of a not-so-secret tradition at their high school. Some people even said that even some of the teachers used it. Since the school didn’t want any injuries to occur on school grounds where they would then be responsible, it was always ‘under maintenance’, supposedly to prevent people from using it. It was ‘tested’ by students almost daily and it was always fine and no one had gotten hurt yet.
As they wedged the window open with a pencil, like they always did, Sammy asked, “Hey, can I come over to your house? I don’t want to have to go home to my mom.”
Abby had met her mom before, not a pretty picture. “Yea, of course. I think Mom might even be making your favorite cookies.” She hinted.
“Nuh uh! Not my cauldron sugar cookies!” She almost screamed and jumped up and down, very un-Goth-like.
Abby only smiled and replied, “Why of course!”
“Yippee!” She actually did scream and it was very un-Goth-like.
They then proceeded to crawl out the window like well experienced ninjas, and they escaped into what was left of the day.
After five minutes, they were in front of Abby’s house. She was happy that she lived so close to school for one reason: She didn’t have to drive her death-trap of a car. It was dangerous because it was old but besides that she just hated driving with all of her being. Knowing what waited in the afterlife made some more cautious than others.
After stealing cauldron cookies from her mom they ran upstairs. Her mom was used to their ways and just kept on baking, knowing that they would want more and sneak down again and again.
“When does your dad get back from his trip?” Sammy asked as they slipped into Abby’s room, the second door on the left.
Her room was what she thought every Goth could ask for. The walls were painted black with a white lace patterned stripe going around the wall’s middle. The curtains in her corner room’s windows were black and lacy with some random strips of white fabric intertwined with it. She had two small bookshelves with various books ranging from, Paranormal Hauntings to How to Cast a Protective Circle for Dummies and to Potions and Spell Castings. There were also several shelves on the walls with some potion ingredients and glass vials. She also had a desk at the end of her bed with various papers written in Latin, which she was studying. She also knew that, underneath her circular wool rug, she had chalk outlined a pentagram. The best part? Her mom was completely fine with all of it! But she didn’t know about the pentagram.
In between nibbles on her cookie Abby replied, “Sometime next week, I think.” Simultaneously, they both fell onto her black sheeted bed, into an immense pile of pillows.
Sammy glanced around and nodded in approval at the witch related content. “I see that you decided to start my trade like I suggested.”
“Yeah. I kinda suck at it though.” She chuckled. “I tried a simple protection charm and it didn’t even work!”
“I would be surprised if you actually got it to work.” Sammy outright laughed.
Abby just stared at her. “You knew it wouldn’t work?”
Sammy laughed again, “I wanted to see if there was even the slightest possibility that you could contain some witch blood from a distant relative, but so far it just looks like you got stuck with your ghostly voodoo.” She smiled, shrugged, and bit into what was left of her cookie. “Besides, it would be nice if you knew what spell I was going to cast so if you had to, you could get out of the way.”
Abby still just stared at her.
Abby and Sammy had known each other since Sammy transferred to their school in third grade. They had become friends almost instantaneously because of each of them were too ‘weird’ to hang out with the other girls, but they didn’t really mind. They had never wanted to hang out with them either. In fourth grade, Abby and Sammy had been attacked walking home by some of the guys in their class, and Sammy had cast a protective circle around them. Abby couldn’t have fought them off because her grandmother hadn’t past down the duties of the Guide to her yet, and she wouldn’t for two years. Under Abby’s questioning later, Sammy fessed up to being a witch-in-training. Abby didn’t know who she was trained by but she knew it wasn’t Sammy’s mother.
Sammy nudged her with her elbow. “Why my dear Abigale!” Sammy said with a fake British accent, “I believe that I just tricked you into studying something!”
Abby groaned at her. “I told you never to call me that Samantha!”
Sammy gasped at her, “How dare you sir!”, still continuing her accent. To add further insult to injury Sammy threw a pillow at her.
After a quick gasp Abby replied, “Oh it’s on now, sister!” Pillow in hand, she smacked her over the head with a pillow.
After several more playful hits, Abby called time out and asked, “You wanna steal some more cookies?”
Sammy said in mock horror, “I’m shocked that you even had to ask!”
They gossiped to immense proportions and Sammy taught Abby techniques, still hopeful that she could be a little witchy, until the clock struck ten after they had gone through about a dozen cookies.
Sammy had very unenthusiastically called her mom to tell her where she was and instructed her to be home by ten. They would have argued, but Sammy’s mom is more frightening than any Enforcer that Abby had ever met and she wouldn’t go up against her even when she had the phantom-abulous powers of the undead on her side and some very minimal witchy-ness. So Abby only ended up walking Sammy home.
They walked and talked with what was left of their cookies, until they came upon Sammy’s house way too soon.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Sammy asked.
“Yeah, unless something comes up, but I doubt anything will.” Abby said.
After a quick hug, Sammy walked into her house and Abby pitied her for having to go home to that woman. They were juniors though so she only had one year left with her mom. Praise the lord.
Abby turned around and looked in the direction that they had come. Because of where they live and because it was summer it was hot, humid, and downright terrible when you wore black twenty-four seven.
Sammy and her mom lived in the ‘bad’ side of town, and Abby had to walk about a mile home, in the dark, alone.
Well, almost alone.
She began to feel the slight chill that felt like heaven in the hot night. Followed soon by the scent of freshly bloomed flowers, that, she had discovered, was basically what heaven smelled like. She could feel her floating there to her right. She turned with a smile and greeted the transparent figure with the blonde hair and the mysterious, stormy blue, sparkling, eyes.
And Alexandria smiled back.
They had stopped in this small town to feed and rest.
They had been traveling nonstop since he had been awoken from his long and dreary sleep, three days ago. Apparently Yarwood had grown into a great ruler of his vampire community. When he had known him he had barely embraced his vampiric nature. Of the triplets, he would have expected for Xavier, the eldest, to take the throne, but apparently he had grown soft.
He used to be known as ‘Lord Tempest’. He had been the most respected, most feared vampire in the entire world. He could feed from any woman that he pleased; in fact, he could do anything that he pleased. He had been more than a king… He had been an overlord! Until he became locked in that godforsaken box!
It startled him to his very core that so much of his world could be destroyed by a simple box made of wood and nails! It was more than startling… it was absolutely terrifying! In fact, even though it was safer, he refused to sleep in another coffin. He would not feel so helpless ever again.
He was a king…
And he would be treated as such!
He continued stalking the night in search of his prey, quieter than a mouse.
After only a matter of several seconds he smelled one.
He moved closer.
He quickly sped forward, shortening the distance between him and his meal.
That threw him off for a second. He had never smelled such a scent on a mortal.
It was the scent of death; musty, dirty, aged, and some other part that only made it more threatening.
She was just down the street from him now. From where he was he could see that she had satiny black hair that reached almost all of the way to her waist, not that all different from his. The only real difference was that his only barely went past his shoulders. Because of its length he often pulled it up with a ribbon. It was one of the habits he had gained as a ‘professional’ overlord. Near her shoulder he noticed a slight shimmer in the air but he ignored it as his need increased.
Once he got several feet closer to her he found another layer in her scent. She had the smell of darkness about her too that was more than just the scent of death; it was nearer the scent of evil.
That completely stopped him in his tracks. He stood there in the dark musty smell of the alley as she walked under a street light and turned around, looking with her star filled stormy grey eyes, full of curiosity, as if she was looking for him…
No. That’s impossible.
She shrugged and continued walking less casually than before.
He started to move in for the kill. He ignored the glimmer in the air as he got closer, the need for blood becoming stronger with each step nearer the woman.
As he focused on her stronger he realized that she was whispering as he came up behind her.
He heard her whisper “Now?” before he felt strangely intense pain shooting across his jawbone as he fell to the ground.
The woman seemed to glow with a sinister shimmering energy as she picked him up off the ground by the front of his shirt and shoved him against the wall. Behind her the glimmer that he had noticed manifested itself fully into the transparent form of a woman.
Dammit. The glimmer had been a Crossover, a ghost that moved on but came back to assist the living, or in most cases; the undead or partial dead. Why is she with this mortal?
The girl shook him to pull his attention back to her. “What do you want?” She asked, her irises flickering from the stormy grey to almost a clear white. She radiated with and absurd amount of power. Her arms were almost vibrating with the power that she used to hold him above the ground.
He had only heard legends of the power of the Guides. It was said that their gift was passed down from grandparent to grandchild and that they could actually harness the power of the deceased. Rumor was that there was only one Guide per country which made them extremely rare. So rare that you would be more likely to see a four leaved clover than a Guide. And right before him stood one of the rarest creatures in the world.
He only knew only one thing; he wanted her.
She slammed him against the wall, making some of the bricks shake loose. “What do you want?!” She yelled at him.
Unable to break her grip on him, he kicked her legs out from under her, grabbed her wrists, held them above her head with his right hand, and kept her pinned to the concrete with his vampiric speed, all before she could even gasp.
With his left hand over her mouth he began to speak, “You are lucky that I feel merciful tonight, mortal, so I shall only let you off with a warning. If you ever assault me like that again I will kill everyone you love before your very eyes and leave you alone to rot in the ground.” He stared into her eyes that were full of fright and asked, “Understand?”
Before she could even blink, let alone answer even though his hand was over her mouth, he yanked her head to one side and sank his fangs into her throat.
Her skin made a pleasant popping sound as it was broken, but, immediately as he blood touched his fangs he realized that something was wrong. It was kind of the same sensation as when something too hot or cold touches your teeth, except there was nothing wrong with the temperature of her blood.
Once the blood touched his tongue he realized the problem.
Her blood was tainted.
He jumped away from her immediately, but not before he could swallow a mouthful of her blood.
That explains the darkness in her scent. Was the only thing he could think, because seconds after that thought, he collapsed on the ground in spasms. He would have been screaming but the blood seemed to leave him paralyzed. Soon after, though, his torture was ended as he passed into the dark oblivion.
Abby could hear sirens in the distance as she dabbed at the small punctures on her neck with the handkerchief that she kept on her at all times. She had no idea that her blood would have that effect on a vampire.
All she could really do was stand there and stare at him. He really was very handsome. His hair was almost freakishly similar to hers; the only real difference that she could see from this distance was that it only went a little past the edges of his shoulder blades. While he had been threatening her she had noticed that his eyes had been a chocolate brown with caramel, that she couldn’t tear her eyes away from. She stared in awe at his face; his eyebrows were thick but not in a freakish way, it was just the right thickness for a man, a perfect nose, and his chin looked like it had been carved by the gods. But his magnificent face was still scrunched up in pain even though he was unconscious.
She could hear the sirens gradually getting louder in the distance, and somewhere in her subconscious, she stepped closer to him. But before she could complete that step, Alexandria appeared and stopped her in her tracks.
“What are you doing?!” She was near the point of screaming but her voice still almost felt like the wind with a slight mixture of static in it. She kind of bobbed up and down, as if she were floating in a swimming pool.
“You and I both know that we can’t just leave him here! The police would find out!” She said, feeling an odd protectiveness for this man that had just tried to rip out her throat.
“There are special humans for that kind of thing! Let’s just go.” Alex said trying to pull her with her but failing as her hand only went through Abby’s arm, giving her a chill.
Abby only walked closer to the man, glared at her, and said, “Would you send anyone off to the fate that you suffered?”
Alex backed up away from Abby, floating a few inches off the ground. She looked at her, then at the ground, shrugged, and said, “I hope you’re right.”
Her arms were under the man when Alex said that and she stopped where she was. “What do you mean?” The sirens getting louder quickly.
“That you can trust him and that you won’t just end up like me.” She said, fading off to Enforcers-know-where.
Abby carried the man into the alley with her poltergeist power just as three police cars pulled up to the house across the street. The man was twitching in her arms as she held her breath, hoping that the police would just leave. Her wish came true because, not seeing any dangerous activity they drove away and back to their homes. As she began to run him towards the only place that she thought was safe, she hoped that she was right too.
"Xavier!" One of his many recruited vampires burst into the room, seemingly out of breath. "We have a serious problem!"
The young man slammed something down on the table.
Because of his ruthless brother they had had to relocate dozens of times, which was bad enough, but he had his two year old child, Andrew and his wife, Jennifer to hide too. For the moment they were hiding out in a cabin in the woods with Gregor's wife Ava. She was an elf and she was able to control most of the plant life in the forest. It was like having their own personal guard dog, made of plants.
He and most of his group of vampires were hiding out in tunnels in Virginia. Far away from Adalstienn castle near the border of Canada. The tunnels were not the most glamorous of hideouts but it worked for them because the tunnels went on for what seemed like forever and they had many dead ends that they used as rooms for all of the vampires. At this point there were beds in about ten of the rooms, but the estate above the entrance belonged to one of his followers, so they had a good source for supplies and they were gradually getting more furniture.
He obviously didn't want his child and his beautiful wife to have to live in these godforsaken tunnels. Gregor had shared his opinion, as had several others in his group. They didn't do it as an offense to the women, it was that some of them wouldn't be able to keep their sanity in these tunnels, and they all knew that they were more than welcome to stay down there with them.
Xavier jerked himself back to the present. That is what is important at the moment. He thought to himself.
"What is it?" Y's army of followers had been growing steadily larger with each passing week.
The man pointed at the newspaper that he had slammed onto the table and ran out of the room.
Xavier walked over to it and picked it up, but he dropped it at almost the exact same moment.
"GREGOR!" He screamed through the dirt tunnels.
He was there quickly but not as quickly as Xavier would have liked, because he was drinking wine again. Alcohol didn't make them get drunk, their metabolism was too quick for that, but it did make them slightly tipsy.
"What? What is it? I was going to take a nap." He yawned, bottle in hand, as he rubbed his eyes.
"You can nap later. This is extremely urgent." Xavier picked the newspaper up as if it was going to bite him and then he threw it at Gregor. "Do you know where this was taken?"
"Uhhhh... Hmmm..." Gregor rubbed his chin in thought, "I don't know... Maybe in... Hmmm... Oh my God!" He gasped, throwing the paper to the floor like Xavier had.
"Yeah." He looked at Gregor in sorrow and Gregor still stood there in shock.
The newspaper headline read, "Vandals Break Into Cemetery" If you read through the article you would read; "...man found dead... wrist ripped open... empty coffin...”
His first thought was that he was back in that terrible coffin under the earth. He almost started having a panic attack until he noticed the differences in his prison.
The floor was made of wood that was slightly moist at the moment, and beginning to rot. The walls around him had a wave-like texture to them and were made of metal. The metal had started rusting and had created holes to the outside world that he could see through as he slowly stood. Through the holes he could see stars.
The inside of the box car was actually a welcome sight. He had ridden in them, before his imprisonment in the cold, unforgiving earth.
He started towards the sliding door to his right but he was stopped by an unforeseeable force.
He felt and looked like a mime as he tried to figure out was stopping him. He stopped and bowed his head.
Opening his eyes he realized that he was standing on a chalk pentagram. The pentagram showed him that the door he had been trying to get at was north of where he was. There were words in what looked like Latin in a circle that all of the points of the pentagram touched. He, lucky enough, was fluent in Latin and after reading through the rough cursive he realized that he was in a Security Spell. Anything could go in, but nothing could ever go out until the spell was released. He assumed that the girl was good friends with a witch, because the odds were very unlikely that she was a Guide and a witch. More than likely the witch would be an adult and that adult was smart enough to starve him out and stake him while weak, for there was no way that they could know how long ago he had fed.
His stomach began to growl at him at the thought of delicious rivers of blood, and he knew for a fact that he could only last for a little less than a day without ending up in a state similar to the one that he had just escaped. He still had to recuperate all of the lost blood from last time, which meant that he had to feed more regularly than he normally would have. He pushed his hunger down with his will and refocused on the problem at hand.
He had been unconscious only several minutes ago. Why hadn't he been staked then? He thought, distracting himself.
He sat there in the near darkness, able to see perfectly fine with his vampire vision when he sensed two bodies in the distance. If they were coming for him, and if they kept the same speed, they would be in front of him in less than ten minutes.
He lay down on the ground and feigned sleep, figuring that that was his best chance for survival, and waited for his impending doom to steal him away from this world.
The wolf was nervous. Not yet to the point of worry, but just nervous. Lord Tempest hadn’t returned from his hunt yet.
He stopped his pacing, took a deep breath, and gazed around the space that they had decided to reside in for as long as they were in this town. It was actually not bad, not bad at all. It had been one of his master’s hideaways back when he had still been the ruler of the supernatural community, not just the vampire community as he had been quickly informed. Safely underneath one of the few old mausoleums in the cemetery lay their safe haven for the time being, they didn’t reside in the coffins inside, not because they were occupied but because after Lord Tempest’s entrapment in the cold, unforgiving earth, he was still weary to stay in an enclosed space for very long durations, so they stayed underneath it instead, in the long forgotten catacombs below. They weren’t fixed up nicely so the walls were just made of clay and dirt, just like the floor and there was no furniture, but the upside was that they were easy to escape if the need arose. After Tempest had begun his hunt he had set off to explore the extent of the tunnels, mapping them out as he went along.
He began pacing again, nearing worry about Lord Tempest¬.
No. He thought to himself. No. It’s Zackary Tempest. Not Lord.
Zackary had insisted on the name changes after he had risen from his grave. “We need to blend in.” He had said. “We have to adjust to them, for mortals will never adjust to us. We are different, and different, to mortals, means dangerous.”
Oh yeah? Something within him asked. Then what is your name then?
He outstretched his hand, as if to introduce himself to another. “Wolfram. Mark Wolfram.”
Abby would have much rather handled her vampire situation by herself and not drag Sammy into his wrath, but from what he claimed she would end up being dead anyway and there was no way that Abby was able to cast a protective circle, but Sammy was nowhere near giving up on the slim possibility that she could be witchy. Plus, Alex had warned her not to trust unknown vampires. Abby figured that that was a good policy to keep with everyone unknown.
Abby sighed again as she pulled at the black leather chocker that she had worn to prevent anyone from seeing the obvious marks in her neck. Even though she was ‘Goth’ she still didn’t personally like chokers, she felt as though they restricted her breathing worse than corsets. She couldn’t deny that the choker was gorgeous though. It was simple black around her neck but dangling from it by two sets of chains was a stunning silver cross that had a lace-like pattern in it. Even though it had cost her a good amount of her ‘fun money’ she knew that it was just too beautiful to pass up.
Sammy noticed her discomfort and nudged her with her elbow. “Hey don’t worry. I’ll take care of him as soon as we get the information that we need.” She said with bitterness in her voice that wasn’t like her.
Abby just nodded. Sammy almost felt like an older, protective sister when Abby was threatened. She really didn’t like seeing her like this. She was always harsh and near ruthlessness at times like these. It didn’t really make her feel any better, if anything; it almost freaked her out even more.
Abby shuffled her feet reluctantly as she and Sammy walked back to their prisoner, getting ever closer. They had had to stop for some coffee to keep them up for the rest of the night otherwise neither of them was going to make it until the sun came up. If they hadn’t gone they would be watching him now, waiting for him to awaken. She didn’t understand why she was so upset, but excited about seeing him again. Every time she looked at his face she got butterflies zooming around in her stomach. She definitely knew that that was not what she was supposed to be feeling for this man. Sammy had called him a ‘creature’ but Abby just couldn’t call him that, it just felt wrong, deep, deep down in her soul.
Once they got several feet from the train car, she felt as though she could feel him. She quickly dismissed the feeling as lightheadedness from the loss of blood, which really was not enough to cause any difference to her body, and she kept walking.
Sammy pulled the door open with a small grunt and ushered Abby inside, pulling out a flashlight as she did so.
He heard them enter the room but didn’t turn to face them as they did so. He was still hoping that they would fall for his trick and, thinking him dead, they would lower the spell, which would allow his very alive self to rip out their throats. He could almost chuckle at the stupidity of humans, but that would reveal his ruse.
“Okay. He’s dead. Let’s just leave.” His previously chosen victim pleaded. Oddly enough, even with his eyes closed, he could almost see where the girl was located. He had no idea where the other girl was though. He knew that the other human was female as soon as she had been close enough for his nose to detect.
“Abby. He is obviously not dead.” She sounded as if she was standing in front of him, facing the north, probably looking at him to detect life. He now had a name to go with his victim’s face. The name didn’t suit her though. She was too beautiful for ‘Abby’. “Why do you care what happens to this… creature anyway? He probably seduced you didn’t he?” She said, her voice full of rage, specifically directed at him.
“No, no, no. Don’t try to deny it Abby!” He could smell the evil in the woman standing before him in intense magnitudes. He had no doubt that she was, in fact, evil. And he was also pretty sure that ‘Abby’ didn’t know.
He could almost feel Abby sigh as she did so. He would have focused on it more if the other hadn’t started calling out his bluff.
“You’re obviously not passed out, as if you thought that that could possibly work against me.” The witch said, zapping him with a spell that he couldn’t identify, partially because of the fact that she had cast it silently but mainly because it was difficult to think past the pain. He broke out in spasms on the floor, painful enough to cause him to scream but he held it back to keep his dignity. But luckily, they ended after a few seconds.
He only lay there for a little while to collect himself before he stood up and glared at the mystery witch. “Love,” He said, brushing dirt off of his slacks, “You have no idea who you’re messing with.”
His accent could easily make her melt to her knees. Of that she was very sure. It was so silky smooth; it seemed as if it belonged more in a commercial than in real life.
Before now she hadn’t taken the time to notice his apparel. He was wearing a freakishly expensive suit, minus any kind of tie. He didn’t need a tie. The ensemble seemed complete without. His back was to her, but she really didn’t care, his back was exquisite even with clothes on. But without clothes on, it would be even more-
No! She pulled a tighter grip on her emotions. He awaked things in her like no other guy ever could, she was excruciatingly sure of that.
“You are in no position to threaten me, vampire.” Sammy spat at the guy that she had just been gushing over. “I should just kill you now and get it over with.” She unsheathed a knife that Abby hadn’t noticed from her waist and pointed it at him.
“Why didn’t you in the first place? I was fairly surprised to awaken at all!” He burst, getting as close as he could to Sammy, being unable to pass the barrier, and ignoring the knife as if it weren’t there at all.
“Because Abby insisted that I shouldn’t.”
The vampire turned around and looked at her as if that had been the first time that he had noticed her standing there. “Ah. Well isn’t that sentimental. Abby, isn’t it?” He smiled almost nastily at her, while she tried not to let her fear show through her face.
He didn’t face Abby for long because Sammy gripped him in a spell and turned him to face her. “What,” Sammy said, almost yelling at him, “are you doing in our town?”
“Ah. Right to point, eh?” He said as if he was trying to send her off the deep end. “Well, I stopped in to get a bite to eat,” He smiled in Abby’s general direction, “and to rest my head for the day. Got a problem with that?”
“Yes, I happen to have a problem with that!” She screamed at him, officially going off of the deep end, and at the same time releasing her spell on him. “You could have killed her!”
He only rolled his eyes at her. “I was going to take a quick sip and be on my way and leave her unharmed, but I was… incapacitated for a moment and unable to depart.” He shrugged, “How was I supposed to know that my selected snack would end up being a Guide? It’s not exactly like they give you a ‘Who to Not Munch On’ informational packet!”
Sammy, still fuming, yelled at him as she walked around the circle. “That is no excuse!”
Abby walked over to her, grabbed her, and turned Sammy to face her. “That is a perfectly legitimate excuse and you know it!” She said shaking her. Letting go of her she walked back to where she had been standing, bowed her head and whispered, “Let him go.”
Sammy only looked at her in shock. “What?”
“Let him go!”
Sammy jumped back at her scream, but still began to whisper the reverse spell in Latin all the same as Abby walked out the door.
She stood there for a few minutes staring at the moon until she heard footsteps behind her. She slowly turned around and looked into the stunningly handsome face of her attacker. I should be absolutely terrified right now. She thought to herself, and she knew that it was true, she should be horribly and terribly afraid of this man. But she was freakishly calm and relaxed around him. She was never that relaxed around anyone else.
They stood there staring at each other quietly and intently as if analyzing the other person’s features. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, just silence.
Finally he held his hand out towards her. “I must apologize. I never introduced myself.” She grabbed his hand almost as if by reflex, and he gently shook it in return. “My name is Zackary. Zackary Tempest.”
“Abigale Raclaw,” She said to the man who, she feared, had possibly stolen her heart, “but I prefer Abby.”
“Abigale is such a beautiful name.” Zackary said, ending their handshake and at the same time making her heart flutter. “Why would you choose to go by anything different?”
He didn’t really give her time to respond because Zackary reached up to stoke her face with the back of his hand right as he finished asking. But before their skins could make contact, Sammy burst out of the train car and pointed at him. “No! Don’t you dare even touch her!”
She used her body as a barrier between them and continued ranting at him. “Get out of my town right now before I decide to forget about letting you leave peacefully!”
He held up his hands as if in surrender, but his eyes didn’t show any sign of backing down. “I need several days in town before I can depart.” He lowered his hands back down to his sides.
Sammy opened her mouth as if to argue but before she could, he held up his hand to silence her. “I’m going to be staying in town with or without your permission, witch. Agreeing would just end up making this matter easier on your part.”
It sounded like she growled at him as she resolutely said, “Fine.” He turned as if to depart but when she continued speaking Zackary turned back around to face her. “If you swear not to harm anyone in this town.” She pulled out the knife that she had on her belt and slit the meaty part of her hand as she said it.
Zackary almost rolled his eyes at the motion. She held the knife out to him and he slit his hand the same way she had. Abby didn’t see it happen because the sight of blood made her slightly queasy and she had turned her head away, but she knew that it had happened. They were preforming a Swear Ritual which required that both parties mixed their blood, which was in violation of almost every health code, and a chant, which Sammy had begun, that, if the swear was violated, the person would die.
Sammy looked him straight in the eye for several minutes after they had let go of each other’s hands. Zackary wrapped his bleeding palm in a strip torn from his shirt as their eyes stayed locked. Sammy glared into his eyes still as if they were truly the windows to his soul and that they would reveal to her all of his deepest secrets. Eventually, the tension became so great that you could cut it with a knife. Sammy almost growled as she spat at him, “One week vampire. Then, I won’t hesitate to hunt you down and kill you.” With that she turned around swiftly, grabbed Abby’s arm, and began to almost pull her away from him.
Abby reluctantly went along with her, but not without a last hope filled glance back at him. He was the most beautiful man that she had ever seen, so beautiful, she thought, that any angel would be put to shame. Most of his hair had eagerly escaped his man ponytail and was waving delicately in the breeze as his creamy caramel chocolate eyes glimmered magically in the cool summer moonlight. His nose was an exact fit for his face, even though it looked as if it had been broken several times. His lips were full, but in a perfectly manly way. She would have looked, or stared was more like it, at more of his perfect body, except for the fact that his breathtaking eyes were holding her captive to only his face. Zackary waved at her with a wave of his fingers like a crowd in a stadium would, sending each finger downwards, one by one.
If we’re lucky we’ll never have to see that… creature, again.” That single sentence made Abby look at Sammy with a look that was probably shocked. That single sentence broke her heart into a thousand pieces. She didn’t understand why, but it still broke anyway.
She turned for another last look at him, but, it seemed as if he had already disappeared into thin air, and the little bit of her heart that hadn’t completely shattered was destroyed, and she was sure that no one would ever be able to repair it, for the only one that could have was now gone.
Zackary knew that if he didn’t leave soon that he was going to do something that; at least one of them, was going to regret. So he left as the witch pulled Abigale further and further away from him. The thought made him growl. As if she has the right-
He calmed the stormy ocean of thoughts swirling around in his head. He didn’t want to end up killing his prey tonight and have little Miss Witch coming after his ass. He just did not have enough time in this puny town to waste dealing with a dead body.
Zackary was stalking the night, right outside the city limits, once again, looking for anyone. He wasn’t in the mood to look for someone particular to suit his tastes; he just needed warm, flowing blood. Not to mention the fact that the night was aging rapidly. And luckily for him, he happened upon one, after what seemed like hours of searching.
The mortal was a blonde boy, not yet a man. He never liked drinking from men. The blood flows easier and smoother down the throat when it’s a woman’s. It’s hard to describe the subtle differences, but female blood seemed to give him more of a kick than male. The potency of male blood was just too strong in a rough way that didn’t please him. Even Abigale’s tainted-
He needed to focus on his dinner and not get sidetracked. The boy was jogging ever nearer to the town and that would just not do. If Zackary was going to pounce, he needed to do it now before the mortal crossed the border and he lost his meal, again. Abigale-
His mind just kept going off track terribly. All of his thoughts just kept ending up going back to Abigale! She was like a drug… She was his drug. She infected him like no other woman before her ever had, and his thoughts were only for her as he popped through the skin and into the man’s rivers of life-force.
“Is all of this resistance worth it?” Xavier pondered to himself as he lazily set the wine glass on the side table in the base’s den/mission control/whatever else. It was furnished in an older style that Xavier and Gregor both favored with multiple chairs and a large table for planning and mapping. “In the end we are going to most likely end up destroying the world anyway. So why fight the inevitable?”
“Xavier!” Gregor exclaimed as he stumbled across the room to confiscate the wine bottle from him. After yanking it from Xavier’s hand and taking a swig himself, he continued, “I’m the only one allowed to talk like that.” He wandered back to his seat, “And stop stealing my wine!”
Xavier let loose a sigh full to the brim with sorrow and despair. “Why are we even doing this Gregor?”
“You shouldn’t even have to ask!” He said sitting farther up in his seat. “For our wives and your child you imbecile!”
“Why not just let Yarwood take over this country and just relocate to another?”
“You’re honestly considering running away with your tail between your legs? I’m sorry but that’s not the Xavier I know, and I’m not going to let you do this to yourself.”
Gregor leapt from his chair and pulled Xavier to his feet. “You are the only hope for all of us who have defied your siblings.” Gregor looked him straight in the eye and pulled him to the only door out of the den area. He flung the door open so hard that he almost cracked the wall, and after that large crash he attracted the attention of all training beneath him, for he was standing on a balcony with a large winding staircase that led to the ground. Being a mile beneath the surface made it nice and cool for all of the vampires and other beings. The grounds were dirt and there were stalagmites on the ceiling above, but it made for a large practice space away from prying eyes.
Gregor spread his arms wide as if to encompass all below him and raised his voice with his vampiric mite. If the door hadn’t shocked them enough, the fact that Gregor was speaking instead of Xavier made it even worse. “Are you prepared to forfeit this fight?”
“No!” They all screamed as if the idea had never been an option in their minds and they were shocked at him for even bringing it up.
“Has it ever crossed your minds that your fearless leader, Xavier, would ever let you down?”
Once again they all screamed, “Never!”
Gregor chuckled, “Never fear! For we will win this WAR!” The entire room erupted in screams and frenzied clapping as Gregor pulled Xavier back through the door, and as he closed it, he asked, with a look of triumph on his face, “So. Still think that you can just ‘give up’?”
Texte: Lillith Devero
Bildmaterialien: Lillith Devero
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 18.07.2012
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