In the year 1469, there lies a betrayal that will test the strength of humanity to its very core. Dreams are what awaken her, a Master of Darkness is wanting to devour her. Who can save her? Or will the past be doomed to repeat itself. This is just a rough draft, next one will have more description
Prologue: Beginning of the End
The massacres have now started in St. Louis, mainly in dark alleys and in the back of nightclubs. In every situation encountered, the bodies have been completely drained of blood and can only be described as if brutally savaged by a wild animal that had found its prey. The victim’s friends all have told the police the same thing, which was that the only suspect they can recollect was an unknown man that was with the victims as they left the nightclub.
It is fast approaching midnight in Missouri. A man is lurking in an alley across from a mansion near interstate 55. This was once a wealthy part of town which included everything from broken down elegant houses to an old brewery. It is a clear night, no clouds to diminish the brightness of the stars. He is leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette when he hears the tapping of heels on pavement. He walks over to the end of the wall to peek around the corner. He spots a young woman walking in the pale moonlight wearing tight blue jeans, stiletto boots made of fine leather that come to just below her knees. Her red fitted shirt clings to the curves of her body as she walks down the sidewalk in front of the mansion. The street lamp’s yellow glare reflects off the white washed bricks of the mansion and the nearby Victorian-style buildings across the street; casting shadows along the alleyway preventing the man from being seen. He beholds her, amazed quietly as her long wavy hair blows in the soft breeze. Most men wouldn’t notice her in a crowd, especially in this darkness that enveloped her. Yet, he could see every distinct feature of her timeless beauty.
As she reaches the part of the sidewalk that intersects the alley, she senses movement and suddenly turns. He moves deeper into the protection of the shadows but catches a glimpse of fiery green eyes; their color so radiant it is like peering at freshly cut emeralds. This action takes his breath away. Something deep and primal inside him wants her, he has to have her. He is drawn to her like a flame to paper. Not knowing exactly the reason why he stands idle, he lets her go and does not follow his desperate sense of yearning. After she strolls away from that corner, he walks away from the mansion and he goes down to Lemay Ferry Road. Standing alone at the end of the block is a newer building. It is the color of desert sand with faded turquoise trim all around the windows and doors. The only marker designating the purpose of this building is a giant bird in shades of indigo on the front of the building. Etched under the fiery bird is a name, The Phoenix.
Once there he glances around the crowded room full of lonely single men and women, some of whom are drunk. Techno music is blaring all around him as he enters the establishment. Young men and women are dancing in a space in the lower part of the club. As he approaches the bar, he notices another beauty who is the exact opposite of the woman that he had stumbled upon a few moments prior. This beauty has hair so golden that it reminds him of waving wheat in the sunlight. He finds that he is angry. Just because he can kill anything or anyone does not mean that this woman is an exception but the fierce siren with jet-black tresses, and whatever dark gift she possessed, somehow escaped his clutches. A new kind of fury rises within him, he wants to make this poor girl alone at the bar scream and beg for mercy. He walks to the bar and stops next to the new prey. He joins her finally and asks if he might buy her a drink. When she looks at him he discovers that her eyes are the color of blue corn flowers. Perfect, he thinks. He slowly starts a harmless conversation as she is initially apprehensive of the men in this bar. Eventually she becomes extremely relaxed and he asks her to leave with him. She happily agrees with the notion of spending time away from this loud music. He escorts her out of the building, away from the crowded club, and into a back alley a few blocks down from where they first met. In her mind he is just some nameless handsome guy who she will probably have a one night stand with, and then go their separate ways never to meet again.
Halfway down the alley he leans her against the damp brick wall of one of the buildings lining the alleyway. In what seems like that moment that where a kiss becomes the focus of their lives, he quickly strikes and slashes her neck. She screams and tries to run for the open road. He smiles knowing his keen ears. He knows that no one can hear the conflict as he moves to engage the fleeing woman. He catches the back of her shirt and throws her hard against the brick wall. The force of the impact causes her to fall to the ground. He kneels over as she tries to recover from the daze from the fall. She peers into his eyes, suddenly feeling like a lamb being lead to slaughter, she knows this is the end. Her mind starts to sear with white hot pain as it can not fathom the slashing and tearing that is being inflicted on her flesh. Her body begins to feel heavy. She can feel the cold ground on her back, the dirt, and gravel grinding its way into her skin. Her breathing begins to get difficult like ashes of her youth are filling her lungs and making them grow weary of life. It feels like eternity to her and she wants it to end. After only a few minutes she is begging to be released from this agony. Eventually after he is done with his fun, he finally lets the last spark of her short life fade away.
After all that had transpired in that solemn alleyway, that dark haired beauties scent, her essence still lingers with him, a mixture of Lilac and another scent he can not quite place. There is only one thing he knows for sure. It was a scent from the old world and not of this America.
Days go by and those green eyes never leave his thoughts. The desire to see them again is starting to get the better of him so he decides to leave the city before this ache overcomes his better judgment. He picks one of his favorite spots on the map and heads to New Orleans. He is walking in the French quarter, feeling the wet cobblestone underfoot and the damp breeze on his skin. And from somewhere above the sidewalk the same scent that had caught his attention in St. Louis overwhelmed him once more. He leaps to the balcony of the nearest home. The night wind blows softly, swaying the white curtains aside that hide the open glass doors. He catches a glimpse of her lying in bed, eyes closed, face soft and peaceful. Her raven hair sweeps around her like a black sea. Her lips are so red and full. He just stares and the only urge in his body is not to devour the girl, but to just simply taste those lips that belong to this dark beauty of the night.