Two telepathic twins (Jasin and Daniel) both share the same mind which becomes frustrating as the two grow more powerful. But lines will be crossed after a tragic accident wipes their memories clean. What's the worse that could happen when intrinsically intertwined in the most horrid of ways? WAR!
Before his ascension to Lord Primal, Gabriel killed to survive. In later years, he killed for supremacy. Now, as he stands predominant over all mankind, he killed for peril. It was blood that had driven him mad with rage. Warm, sweet, and delectable blood. But he doesn’t just bask in blood, he gathers their souls. The thirst was what made him a nasty predator and oblivious to the laws of thermodynamics. A God. He forced mankind to play a bizarre game of desperation, sparing no one from his brutal and avid agenda. His power so formidable, no one was equipped to withstand – not even himself at times.
Gabriel ill-frequently fed like a blood crazed vampire his own daughter foretold he would become. So much so, he would drink his victims dry until their veins shriveled beneath their skin and when their eyes twirled with abandon, he gave them to the flames where they would awaken in the afterlife burning in the pits of Tortus (Hell). But he didn’t burn them all, for some, death had come as a blessing.
The Lord Primal was eight-years old when the thirst first called out to him. It began as a feasible purge but developed overtime, eventually it outgrew him. The starving beast can be relentless and he, himself could no longer restrain it. His first feed was livestock, mainly small animals and rodents. Over time, his hunger grew wild and the compulsions were fierce with each vicious and brutal ascent. In just a matter of months, Gabriel had become an expert merciless killer and after several hundred years, not even the world’s most proficient military could sustain him. Not that he’d attempted such feat, only if he desperately needed to in order to survive. After all, there isn’t exactly a big difference when it came to blood. As long as the source was still alive and untampered it was free game.
Gabriel ejected the flask holstered to his hip, popped the cork and took a messy draught. A cold splash of water doused his chest. Though it tamed his thirst, it could not fool the savagery of his beating heart. With displeasure he plugged the cap back over the canteen, his hands trembling as he did so. His drudge, Dorian, would have seen the struggle in his master’s eyes if it were not for the bodies he tirelessly fed into the flame. But as famished as Gabriel had grown, Dorian was soon to hear the discontentment in his voice over the crackling of flesh and bones.
“How much longer must we wait?” Gabriel growled. His eyes peering avidly on the flesh of Dorian, his canines elongated, a look that wrought fear onto his drudge.
Dorian raised his pocket watch and gulped. His errands were taking him past sundown and he knew how beleaguering it was making his master. Since they’ve docked, he burdened his young servant with such dreadful tasks. Though Dorian meant more to Gabriel than a lowly undertaker, he was his student and soon to take his place as Lord Primal over all vampires. A well-conditioned Sprite makes for a fine Lord Primal and perhaps Dorian would thank Gabriel one day.
“Just a few minutes.” Dorian trembled. His voice sincere, concocting his words carefully as to not aggravate his master any further.
“This is the last of them, then?” Gabriel sniffed. His eyes mocking a crescent moon.
Dorian grunts as he hoists another body over his shoulders and advances towards the blaze. He flings it over his head atop a mound of charred others. The fire excites, swallowing the corps hole then he collapses forward to rest the palms of his hands on his knees. When he slid his sleeve across his lips, a copper-like smell dawdled in the doorways of his nose, when he pulled his arm away it was smeared in crimson.
“The others I will need to bury.” He pants.
It pained him beyond reason to be Gabriel’s apprentice, but he didn’t have the heart to admit such. For he too, was a vampire and it was brutal on him not to partake in the taste with his master on close watch. It was considered a bad gesture to drink behind another vampire, especially one well surpassed you in age. He might as well repudiate the Lord Primal to a lesser beneath him. A Sprite.
Gabriel knew his drudge would one day succumb to the thirst. The moment he did, the Lord Primal would be well rehearsed to deal with it himself. It was easy, like crushing the air out of a mosquito. The Lord Primal had good reason to considering he was totally against relinquishing his role as Lord Primal. It had been weighing him down for quite some time now. Appointing your heritor is serious business and the most embellishing ceremonies in the Amalekite heritage. The new blooded Lord Primal’s first act as ruler is to partake in the blood of his master, symbolizing the end of one rule and genesis of a new.
A vampire as dark and twisted as Gabriel could put you through pain beyond human permanency. He typically liked playing with his food and absolutely adored a good game of cat and mouse. If he’s fixing to feed off you, he’d already have his teeth deep into your flesh before you had the chance to draw a single breath.
“These belligerent humans are not worthy of such peace.” Gabriel grimaced. He trampled a corps beneath his boot as he paced frustratingly. He could hear Dorian’s carotid artery pounding like a drum and if he listened closely he could troll to its beats. The fact of the matter is his drudge was no match for him and he knew it. In a blink of an eye, he could be breathing down Dorian’s neck the minute his drudge’s fangs extract.
“Don’t I always burry the young?” Dorian reasons feebly. He quivered under the precision of Gabriel’s menacing silver eyes. After he had caught his breath, he picked himself up and commenced his chores with haste. The sun would be rising soon and they needed a place to bed down. It was suicide heading into Rembrandt in broad daylight considering Lord Primal was a fugitive wanted for murder. “The Maniac of Boon County’s,” what news articles and the media’s been calling him. Ironically, several eye-witnesses came forward with details that match Dorian’s features appose to Gabriel who’s obviously manipulating testimonies using his Vampire Senses. What use is a drudge if you can’t pin them to your villainous deeds?
Gabriel took another toss from his canteen and sloshes the tasteless malnourishment around in his mouth. With a despicable cringe, he spits the water into the bonfire. “…Rantings of a foolish Amalekite, I will crush that merciful spirit of yours, yet.”
“Have you no honor, or have you forgotten the decree of our doctrine.” Dorian gripes. He’s elapsed to scaling the ground and pulling corpses by their threads.
Gabriel’s eyes blare with rage, “Do not presume to educate me on Elohim doctrine, Sprite.”
“We are to indulge with honor not deprave ourselves amongst these humans,” Dorian argues, “What must I relay to the council this time, when word makes it back, they will not be pleased.”
Gabriel smiles warmly. His drudge may not have been embrocated to serve as Lord Primal just yet, but he certainly knew the Elohim – ancient laws of the Amalekites and Sakahgi Natives – like the back of his hand. “You forget, young Sprite, I am Lord Primal, the oldest vampire in existence. My power is formidable.”
Despite Gabriel’s hatred for his kind, Dorian was one whom could be trusted. Dorian served as Gabriel’s apprentice for many years. Though not much of a naturalist, he may have saved Gabriel’s life more times than the innocent blood the Lord Primal shed over the years. But if you were to ask Gabriel, he would laugh and say, he was but a clumsy fool, nothing more.
It is considered dishonorable to live in the shadow of your drudge especially one whom been sated. What makes Dorian an exception is the fact he is an Amalekite. Out of fear, he offered Gabriel his services in return for his life hundreds of years ago. A vampire cannot adduce another vampire and make him or her his drudge. Dorian’s services are mindful whereas with other species, would have a selfless desire to serve.
Gabriel peered into the calm forestry where his thoughts drifted off into the valley. It isn’t easy to train his mind on anything other than the thirst which was utterly unbearable and his drudge could sense it.
“These humans regard us as threats to their despicable way of life, why must you feel the need to protect them?” Gabriel pressed.
“These HUMANS keep us alive.” Dorian says wearily, he was beginning to feel annoyed by the misanthropic Lord Primal.
“They’re impractical!” Gabriel argues.
“Necessary!” Silence for a brief moment then Gabriel sneers and wonders off towards the ledge of Hope Falls and studies the town of Rembrandt. With his hands clamped behind him, he leans back in laughter.
“What’s become of you?” Dorian shrieks.
“This…abomination…this stubborn child.” Gabriel grinds. He turn and regard Dorian, a bright silver halo warped around his dark iris. “I will see to it, the spawn of Boris and Norah, meet his end.” The pillars in his eyes glare iridescent. “So will be the legacy of the Primal over a new legion of Amalekites. The leader of the Vokens.”