Prologue .1Mature

Robert is gone. Beth knows this. But she recognises that there's nothing she can do about it. For now. Perhaps if she trained with the Brotherhood, she could. That would be possible. She's decided. She's going to get him. With, or without help.


I've now got about 10,000 words of Red Leather Draft Two so I thought, to celebrate I would post the new version of the prologue. Let me know what you think :D

The biting wind of a bitter winter rushed past and he tried to shrink further still. The darkness was eternal and gloomy, the little natural light coming from the blue moon that remained in the sky whatever the time. The wood below him pushed splinters into his feet and he closed his eyes again, trying to wake up from this horrible nightmare.

When he opened them again, he was still standing on the small stage in the large courtyard. He cast a despondent glance around. His eyes almost immediately settled on her.

He almost bared his teeth and snarled at her but stopped himself, aware it would only end with another beating from the guards that hated him so. A small, triumphant smile spread across her lips as she noticed his anger and hatred. She leant back in her seat, her red hair flaming against her white dress. He wanted to kill her. He wanted to splatter that pretty little dress of hers with her own blood. He longed to tear out her throat and watch her lifeblood slowly leave her body. Even a prolonged existence had to end, and usually those who had such a life met a violent end. He was more than prepared to deliver this for her.

One of the guards grabbed the back of his neck, dragging him forward from the back of the dais. He was next. He steeled himself for what he knew was coming.

“Where’s your mummy now, vampire?” he asked with a dark chuckle.

He made no response. His broken ribs and slowly healing contusions were constant memories of how bad an idea it was to antagonise the guards.

As he was pushed forward, onto centre stage, there was a collective gasp.

So, this lot know who I am as well, he thought resentfully.

He hated them already. And he hadn’t even looked up yet.

“First call,” shouted the man at the podium.

The responses quickly became more expensive and more heated. Over at the other end of the room, her smile began to become wider and wider as everything escalated. She hadn’t imagined how profitable this venture of vengeance would be.

He just stood and watched it with a distanced mind. He felt as though this was happening to someone faraway and he was still at home with the one he loved. He frowned; he couldn’t think of her, not at all. If he did, he knew this disinterest and apathy would quickly disappear and he would break inside. Well, even more than he already had.

The End

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