The LetterMature

Demrin wandered the lonely back alleys of London, shadows creeping on the walls behind him as night fell. He was pondering what the necromancer had said. He had received a letter from a passing bystander as he left the Pig’s Head, left with him by the necromancer. Demrin read the letter again:


As I told you, your time nears an end. I have sent

two people to deal with you once and for all. One

is a vampire, an old time acquaintance of mine,

the other, is the legendary Black Assassin. He has

returned to this area at my request, and should you

evade the vampire, he will be unleashed on you and you

shall die.

Enjoy your remaining days,

J. Scott: Necromancer.


The ‘Black Assassin’ Scott had written of was what worried Demrin the most. He had dealt with vampires before, and they never proved much of a problem. The rumours about the Black assassin though, were fierce. While he had never once faced the man, he had heard tell of the many people the assassin had chased. And now he could possibly be the man’s new quarry. This was not good news at all.

Demrin slid out of the alley he was in, back to the main road. His eyes were on the pavement, so he did not see the man coming. They collided in the middle of the street and both men went sprawling. Demrin carefully rose to his feet and eyed the other man. He was wearing a black hoody with the words Pain in the neck and a pair of bloody fangs on it. His face was hidden in the shadows.

“Watch where you are going old man. Next time I won’t be so nice”.

“And what makes you think you could handle me?” Demrin challenged.

“Believe me, and old man like you would stand no chance” the man snarled.

“There is more to me than meets the eye”, Demrin said. The man pushed Demrin up against the wall, his grip iron strong. Demrin caught a glimpse of the man’s eyes. They appeared blood red, and then his face was hidden in shadows again. The man snarled, his teeth appearing longer than normal, sharp and pointed.

It clicked with Demrin then, the man was a vampire! Demrin was struggling for breath.

“Y-you think you a-are the o-only one who c-can play?” Demrin asked the man. He clicked the fingers on his right hand, a flame forming there. He pressed it to the vampire’s arm. The beast yelped and let go of him. Demrin fired a blast of air, hurling the vampire across the street. He watched as it landed with a crash against the wall, and then ran.




Demrin entered his building and headed to the lift. A sign was stuck to the doors saying it was out of order. He took the stairs, reflecting again on the necromancer’s letter. If the vampire he had encountered on the street had been sent by the necromancer, things would be fine. If the vampire was no better than that, Demrin would destroy him easily.

However, Demrin did not believe that was it. The necromancer would not hire a vampire that weak to tackle him. He must have just caught the vampire off guard; it had not known that Demrin was the man it was looking for. It could still be a source of trouble.

Demrin reached his floor and turned off the stairs. He pushed through the door onto the landing. His corridor seemed a darker place than usual. Then again, these were dark times they lived in, and they were getting darker by the day.

As he reached his door, he noticed a slender form sitting next to it. Her streaked blonde hair shone even in the darkness. Demrin felt his mouth begin to dry. She looked up. It was Calla.

“Demrin!” she exclaimed, her violet eyes widening. “The door wasn’t open so I waited here”.

“Hello Calla, please, come in”, he said as he opened the door.

The End

158 comments about this exercise Feed