OK, the first one was a try at this..hope you like it..somewhat.
C'mon, I was like 16 or something, hated reading and having no previous experience at it.
The second one is based on some game I play..so it's not that original.
The third one was a feedbackstory I wrote for an rpg I play in.
And I did not check the spelling. So hush! *evil look*
ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE
Dawn. Over the white snowcovered fields and treetops the old bells in the tower of the monestarycould be heard. Like they have done for so many years, each month,each day, they were sounded before sunrise. A routine that yet has to be disturbed, the monks have always done their duty.
On this cold yet sunny day a little group of travellers was already on its way. They appeared monks, but they had lnoger robes and taller capes with which their entire bodies were covered. Silently they moved along the still frozen mudpath away from the monastary.
But they were not alone on the road, a horse, galloping towards the monastary, carried a knight errand with disturbing news. Because of the cold, all sents were weakend, so only by the time the horse approached the group it smelled the reaking smell of decay. It was overcome by fear, and, while prancing wildly, threw the young man of onto the ground and rushed insanly through the meadow.
Crawling up from the ground, mopping off the dry mud, he looked at the group moving forth, completly ignoring what had previously happened. Looking at them dissappear in the wood, he went after his steed.
Arriving at the monastary, the horse became nervous again. The young man tried to calm it, but wasn't at ease himself, still a bit shaking. After dismounting he had to wait longer than usual for a monk to open the great wooden gates. He gave the restless horse to the monk and requested to see the abboth.
Accompanied by different monks, they guided him through the building. He was impressed by the old structure. High and wide corridors with huge walls, decorated with majestic crafted tapestries on one side, great pillars reaching the beautifull paintings at the ceiling. Finally they arrived at two massive wooden doors as high as the corridor itself. There were two monks standing in front of it, their only taks as it seemed, was to open the great doors whenever one wished to enter the room behind it.
The knight was to wait. With a defeaning sound the doors were opened, but only so wide that one man could go through. Overwhelmed by curiousity he tried to identify the room. Because of the many bookshelves his gaze caught eyes on, he beleived it to be the library. One monk went in.
After a while the monk returned and made, without a word, clear that the abboth wished not to be diturbed. He was to be shown a room where he could rest, take a bath and eat. The closing of the doors echoed for a long time through the whole monastary.
After walking through countless of passages, they went down a stone stairway and had com eto the lower corridors where but a few candles wer lit. Taking a torch with him, the monk went ahead. The knight errand, somewhat confused and disgrunted he was deemed of small importance, hesitated at first, but caught up with the lightbearer, watching out not to bump his head.
At last they stopped in front of a small iron door. After opening it, the monk gestured the man to enter. With his thoughts drifting around somewhere else he went in without suspiscion. When he noticed the room wasn't lit he turned around with this questioning look on his face. But it was too late, the monk had ceiled the door, the cell was veiled in complete darkness.
Desperately he smashed his fists upon the door and cried for help as loud as he could. Alas to no aveil. He fell onto the ground and began to cry. He knew that if he ever was to become a knight, this was one thing he shouldn't do, but he couldn't help it.
Time had past, yet he didn't know how much when suddenly he heard a sound, trying to locate it, he reached for the walls, to get an idea where he was. Concentrating on the sound, he noticed it was a voice. The prisinor in cell next to him he guessed. Putting his ear to the wall he tried and understand what he was telling.
He heared the voice asking him time after time if he could hear him. "Yes", he shouted, "I can hear you". The voice told him to listen. He heard the voice tell him how a deamon, a minion of eviltook over the abboth and how it slowly turned all the monks into living dead. He indeed recalled having seen no faces of the monks, but wondered why the voice was telling him this and why the deamon didn't know of the voice. It answered that his belief was too pure to be taken and so the deamon couldn't harm him and thus locked him up.
In the distance footsteps could be heard walking towards the cellblock. The stopped in front of the small door, following by a clanging sound of the iron keys unlocking the door. A torch lit the room, blinding light for the young man who got accustemed to the darkness. With his eyes covered by the palm of his head, he could see how two figurescame towards him and grabbed him. Instinctivly he tried to get loose, but fear was against him. He felt an enormous pain in his neck.
The next thing he saw when his eyes opened again was a blurry image. Pain still in his neck. Slowly the image focused. He was sitting at a table, deccoratedwith candles and fruit badkets. It was a big table, with many chairs looking around him he reckognised the room, if was the library.
"Try to eat something." He heared a voice behind him, he turned around, stood up, but couldn't see anything yet.
"Who are you? Show yourself."
Out of the shadows a monk came forward.
"I am the abboth of this monastary. I do appologise for the uncomfort befallen you." A gentle, yet cold voice replied.
Suspiciously looking around he moved to the other side of the table, noticing the abboth coming towards him.
"Why have you brought me here?"
"You do not understand. It was a mistake. I was told you were a thief. Our treasure chamber was robbed you see."
The abboth kept walking towards him. Fear in his throat, he nervously was searching for a knife to defend himself with
"I do not believe you, you lie."
Nothing, as a desperate attempt to have something in his hand, he reached for a candleholder. The candle fell to the ground.
"What..what are you doing?"
Scared to hear that voice suddenly so close behind him, he stumbled and fell to the floor when he clumsy faced the direction.
"Let me help you."
The abboth reached out.
The end..near, Family friends, loved ones..the sole thing to do was...
With a moan the abboth looked shocked at the holder sticking in his chest
"Why?" it was the last word before the abboth fell to the floor besides him. Blood pooring out of the liveless body.
When he stood up he was proud of slaying the daemon, yet realized tha this was far to easy. The stories of old required armies. Feeling even more proud at the great dead of bravery. At that moment the big doors opened, all monks came rushing towrds him. Fighting back at first, yet outnumbered and still a bit dazed, he got overwhelmed.
"I believe I owe you my gratitude, I couldn't have killed him without you."
A large figure entered the room. Recognising the voice, he cried
"You used me."
Struggling for freedom he saw how the figure came closer, almost floating over the floor. He noticed the pale skin and the strange eyes.
"I try to do my best."
When the tall figure stood over him, he could see lust in those eyes when they looked at the corpse.
"You deamon."The young men yelled.
"You're too kind, here let me help you."
"Never"
After which he took at what was clearly the vampire, the deamon who manipulated him.
Angered, it snarled
"I could have helped you"
The vampire reached out and pulled back.
The man saw how it grew its fangs and smiled at him. After which it took a bite of the still beating heart.
Darkness.
A band of warriors, of comrads, of brothers. They�ve been coming to the ruined city the pastmoths. In search of wealth, of glory, of riches. Always drawn back here. And yet always glad to leave. They had a mission this time, more money then they ever dreamed of had been offered if they succeeded. And they needed it. Their families were starving at home, living in the mud. They had to.
The once proud city lay in ruins. A comet, like seen in the prophecies, with two tails, had struck the unfortunate beacon of civilization. A proud and welthy city, on the outskirts of the empire, withstanding waves and waves of attacks. The demonic hordes were always beaten back. Now, demonworshippers, criminals, treasurehunters, and all who were brave or stupid enough to come here populated the vast ruins.
In a nearby settlement in the Eagles Nest Inn, they were approached by a small and scared looking man. A hunchback. They had just returned from an unsuccesfull raid through the ruins and they didn�t had much money left to rest for long. Though not pleased with the annoying sound and manners the deformed man brought forth, the promises of wealth was something they couldn�t ignore. After being intoxicated with his silky words, they accepted.
The next morning, before dawn, they gathered the little belongings they had and went to the meeting place. There, overwhelmed by the show of wealth and beauty displayed, they were to meet the employer of the hunchback, the count. A tall, broad, yet pale looking man, greeted them in the biggest and most exquisite tent. Guards were patrolling around. They went over the agreed terms again, and after a while the count summoned an errant boy to show the group to some supplies they were to have.
Still dazed by the impressions, the beer of last night, they followed the kid. A skinny looking kid, blue eyes, blond hair. When they arrived in the armory tent, two guardsmen let them enter. A blacksmith greeted them and showed them what weapons and armory they were given. Weird enough, everything fitted each man as if handmade just for them. They could keep it if they returned succesfull.
Optimistic, and making jokes they set forth to the damned ruins once more. A mission. A rescue mission. The beloved of the count was kidnapped and dragged to this place. A sacrifice for the dark gods. They had a few nights till the celestials were at an equinox. Whatever that meant. The prospect of the riches they would gain were all that mattered.
The air turned red closer to the city, and the clouds looked a vile green. Here and there could be seen some fires from afar. They were getting close. No words were spoken, the hard lessons learned in previous raids were remembered. Alert and aware of their surroundings, the braced themselves when they neared the outskirts of the city. They were given a map of the less �active� routs. They didn�t encounter any opposition for a few hours, untill.
A sound, a scream, they all covered to safety. One of them was hit in the shoulder by an arrow. Trying to pinpoint the snipers� location a few more arrows went passed them. Keeping the sniper busy, one of them sneaked around, and wasn�t noticed. One of the building on the end the street had a window left, there he sat. Looking around, traces of bodies being dragged away through the mud could be seen. The arrows kept coming. Untill a battle cry, rummbling, a slash could be heard. They looked, their comrad was standing in the opening waving at them.
Taking a short rest, healing their wounded friend, scouting the area. They continued. Towards the cultists. The ones who captured the maiden. On their guards now more then before. Suddenly they heard fighting up ahead. Deciding that it was safer not to get into it as much as they wanted, they walked around it in a big curve.
Nightfall and still not having reached their goal, they made a camp in one of the buildings left standing. No roof, the windows were broken. Coaled walls of a fire burning long ago. They made no fire. They didn�t want to attract attention. Howls and fighting could be heard in the distant, all night long. A goodnight�s rest wasn�t in for them, but they needed what rest they could get.
The sun came up in the morning, covering the surrounding with a purple haze. For the weather was corrupted. The city was damned and things weren�t exactly normal arround here. Other creatures, orcs, goblins, and weird halfbreeds, ratlike, goatlike. All roamed the streets. It wasn�t safe.
They readied themselves and went on their way after the small meal they had. After disposing of an Ogre and it�s small kobold masters they didn�t encounter a lot of opposition. The builldings were warped by the demonic influence raging so close to the impact site. They were close. Finally they heard voices. Taking cover and sneaking closer they saw the cabal of cultists that was described to them. All in ropes with heretic symbols on them. Some were still asleep. Two were guarding a building. One was muttering some words in a language they didn�t understood.
Preparing for an ambush the circled around the unsuspecting foes.with a gesture they fired their crossbows, drew their swords and charged. Easily overwhelming the not quite awake heretics and slaughtering all in the square. A warning was giving though. Hurrying into the guarded building the response was getting in motion. Killing one of them. He couldn�t be safed. In the building, they barricaded the door and windows. # of them went in search of the maiden. Outside an unhuman screech could be heard, then the pounding started. Mustering courage, for they new this little barricade would not last with the force the pounding went on.
The others dispatched with the only guard to the dungeon, and found a scared and undernourished young woman dressed in a white robe. They told her who they were and estured she should come along. But she hesitated too long. The biggest guy lifted her up and carried her away, ignoring the kicking and the hitting. She was terrified.
�Quickly,� One of them shouted. �They are almost through.�
Having spotted an unguarded escape route they fled out of the building. On the exact moment a hideous mutated human like being crashed through the doors and roared after them. The cabal rushed and cried in anger towards them. The sacrifice should not be lost.
�Make arun for it, we�ll hold em off� Gesturing at the others who stopper and rallied themselves to embrace the impact. A fiersome fight followed. Only two were running away to make sure the maiden was rescued. One of them looked back and he saw an uneven match, but his friends stood their ground. That was the last time he layed eyes upon them. But the pair got away.
After fleeing most of the time and almost being killed, but throwing goldcoins at their assailants and running away. They managed to leave the city in one piece. On thehill overlooking the city, they waited, rested for a bit. Undoing the maiden from the ropes and bandages they put on her to keep her quiet and keep the kicking down.They finnaly felt a bit of tranquility. Fearing the worst, but hopefull to see their comrads again. They waited for the rest of the day, and the whole night. To no avail. None of them did survive the onslought.
With a heavy heart they went on their to claim their price. Still a bit shacky the Young woman walked for herself, not sure where to go. The fields got a bit greener, the sky a bit more blue. It started to look like a sunny day after all.
Arriving at the settlement of camps just after dusk, they were greeted with great relief and applauded for their bravery. The young maiden was guided towards a tent by two other women. The two men were greeted by the count in his tent himself. Expressing his gratitude and praising their heroism. They felt flattered. When they finaly brought up the subject of payment. The count paused for a moment. Then smiled. The two men didn�t notice that two guards entered.
After his breakfast the count left for his prot�g� gesturing his ghouls to clean up the mess.
Night, as always a dark veil covering the lands. Only lit by the stars and moon above, though the moon was not hiding, seeing was still hard, were it not for one�s own capabilities and trusted steed one would not dare to travel, let alone at such high speed. A landscape riddled with hills, a few settlements here and there and a long empty road in the gloomy darkness of the night.
Disgruntled about the previous candidates and getting a bit uncomfortable by the pressure of time, something he only rarely from time to time experiences these days. It was so many years past since he felt like this.
'This one has to be perfect', a thought surfacing now and then. If not for the small clouds of air his steed made, he wouldn�t have noticed the cold of the days gnawing on every living being. A dash of pride filling him.
He knew which road to avoid, which to follow. The maps he received from his cousins in these parts were quite accurate. Far of to his left he could see a faint light on the horizon of a nearvy city when reaching the top of a hill.
'Almost', he thought and spurred his mount further.
Searching for a safe haven he could secure. For him and a select few he was ordered to shelter. After this, only a handfull of options would remain. Not all was lost yet. After many nights of travelling he finally arrived at his destination. Overlooking a small valley, surrounded by a variety of hills and gatherings of trees his eyes widened and a hint at a smile could be decerned on what remained of his face. A beauty of a castle, modest and small, stood there in all it�s wonder. He observed the surroundings, his look carrassing a small stream of water running before him, reflecting the cold still splender of the night, holding the castle hostage in it�s sole ground.
Perfect, even a moot.'
He dismounted, took what he needed most, then whispered something to his companion who as if it understood, left at his will. He set forth to investigate. Unlike the other places he visited, this one was ill lit, only in one of the many rooms he saw light leaving the castle walls. Two floors, a third under the roof, perhaps living quarters for servants. To the looks of it from above a small court in the middle. Though reminiscent of a big farm, this small diamond had it�s appeal, drawing him closer.
Entering wasn�t a challenge once he crossed the rather deceiving moot. The current was unexpected. It struck him that there was no guard, no lifesigns. As if it was deserted. All the better. But still cautious of a hidden lurker. If all tales were correct, there shouldn�t be one though, merely a skeleton crew of servants.
Taking some time to accustom his sight to the dark, trying to locate everything in front of him. Outside in the courtyard he saw the doors to the stables. He needed to find out more about the residents and their whereabouts. Wandering through the place, covered in a veil of darkness, amplifying what small light did enter through small windows. He found dejected decorated rooms, hinting at more happier times, now long gone. Getting accustomes to the architecture, the passageways, the escaperouts. He discovered the servantsquarters empty and abandonned. Surprised, he suspected a trap. Listening closely, trying to discern breathing. Yet he could detect none. There was no servant left here nor in the other rooms. More on his guard he searched for an answer.
Finally, standing in the hallway he could see light slipping through the cracks of a door. Blinking a few times. Approaching slowly, listening closely. One person, breathing, noting something down. A literate he assumed, so rare amongst humans. So uncommon amongst his kind. This place will be his. A mere human would not stand in the way of his goal. He knocked on the door, he could hear the surprised gasp inside.
'Who�s there?', a female voice answered, flustered, repressing the tears shed before. Surprised by this fact somewhat he knocked over the door, since there was no attempt made inside from unlocking it. In maid�s uniform a girl, perhaps 19 years of age stood there, a knife clumsy grasped in her hands, shivering, malnourished, trembling on her feet.
'Where is your lord?', he asked, looking around, intimidating the young woman with his pressence.
'He..he..he is gone'
'Gone? To where?', still not fully at ease, expecting an ambush.
'To his family in our divine heaven above', after much hesitating and an angry look from his face, which looked like a french merchant he once met in a port in Greece.
It turned out that the maid was the single person left, occasionally a stablemaster would come and maintain certain things too heavy for her to lift. She was ordered to wait for the son to return from the crusade, no doubt he would never return. The mistress died many years ago at childbirth, his lordship died more reently, due to a flue. No family remained, the vultures who would want this property were kept at bay, for she did not reveal the death of the lord yet. The rest of the servants was discharged before then. Afraid she might have no place to go.
Such a pitty.
There�s a new master now.
The word spread amongst only to those who needed to know. Awaiting the arrival of the new.
and the maid..well..she�s still working
Darkness. Faint breathing. Minutes, hours, days? Time did pass, yet for how long, she didn�t know. Heavy breathing. Noises of passed moments still haunted her head. Out, she wanted out, it was safe to get out, for it had been quiet for a while now. With all her might she pushed against the lid. Away, away from the darkness she had bared for too long now.
Kicking the lid away, she crawled out. Struck by horror, she saw before her the ruins and smoking ashes of what only recently still was her home, her haven, the place she was safe. Afraid, alone, she called out her husbands� name. Walking through the smouldering remains of the house. Weak, hungry, she looked for something that wasn�t damaged or lost in the fire. Pushing some debris out of the way. A moment of eternity.
* * *
He woke up, smiled to himself, glad to notice he survived the day. Wiping his clothing from dirt and mud he covered himself up with to stay out of the sun�s lethal rays. Trees without leaves. Cold gnawing at every thing it can touch. He went on his way. The siege has to be reported, he had to inform his lord.
* * *
�Here ye all and bear witness to the horrors set free into the world of our lord the Almighty. The demons responsible for these defiling acts have been fleeing us for some time now. No more. Tonight we shall not, must not fail. For the evil forces of He�s whose name shall not be said will be put to a halt. They shall not blight this land created by His hands any longer. Fear not, for He is watching over us..�.
The priest held his speech to the few, boosting them with moral for the upcoming battle. They just slew each of the monstrosities they encountered. Alas, a small town and a few houses had fallen to the ravages of these beasts. The fires were still raging, feasting on the wood, as if the cold had no effect on them at all, illuminating the night. The group of zealous knights and priests could not spare many, there righteous cause needed all the strength that could be mustered. The mutilated corpses were thrown on the fires, to cleanse, to purify what was tainted, so that the souls were freed from the flesh.
With this task done, the horrors scarred on their memories, they set off to find and destroy the evil causing such devastation. Perhaps a days� travel ahead, with enough effort they could caught up with the monsters, faced head on and put to the death those vile creatures deserved.
* * *
Tracking his way through the small forests and roads. Knowing which areas to avoid. He was well travelled and knew these lands like the back of his hand. The roads and paths, the hiding places, the fastest route to his liege and lord. Last news was that he was on his way to expect the rather small shelter. It was too small, not enough defences, not prepared, not against such a force anyway. The other guy might have been capable of standing his ground, but not even him could withstand such a force.
* * *
Fleeing her home, her everything, her nothing. Not anymore, there�s nothing left. Her daughter, she didn�t find her, a last hope, her only hope, her everything. Scavenged through the remains, everything burned, gnawed at by fire, put to rest in the mud. Ruins, nothing to be salvaged, all twisted and moulded by the crackling fires into shapes resembling the chaos wrought upon them.
Overcoming her deepest fear of the dark hours. Never before did she venture outside this late, never before did she stay wake while the monsters roam outside, never before. Afraid of the strange and alien sounds. Unaccustomed to the unlit land. Hesitating, heavy breathing, jumping up at every crack a branch made when she stepped on it. It was cold, but she didn�t notice her shivering.
A distant glow over the lands, where there was light, there were humans, safety, warmth, perhaps that�s where her daughter was taken. Her daughter. Was she ok, unharmed, kept warm, safe, all kinds of wild ideas roamed through her head, spinning around back and forth. She forgot about her fears, started to run, driven by one goal, her only goal, her everything.
When she arrived at the end of the woods, on a hill overseeing the glow brightening the sky at this forsaken time, she didn�t stand still to think how exhausted she was, how long she ran, what hopes she had. Instead, she fell to her knees, covering her mouth, started to cry. Ignorant of the cold creeping up from the earth, out of reach of the heat emanated by the glow. Fires. She saw the horrors, everything came back, she cried and wept, she couldn�t hold it any more. Darkness.
* * *
�My lord, we were..�, as he started to explain what happened after running into the retinue of his liege he was interrupted.
�I know.�
�My lord?�, not sure what was meant by it.
A simple gesture with his hands, the old man hinted that there was no need for further questions, everything was clear, everything was known. As if it was planned this way. As if it was meant to be. Having served his lord longer then today, he knew to keep silent, he knew his place and joined the ranks of the small force. The old man gestured to start moving again, after which the group picked up pace, silence, no word spoken, only the sounds of armour, hooves, breathing and cartwheels. En route to the place he fled hours ago.
* * *
�Take a good look at what those vile beast have done, taken refuge from the Lord in this house and expelled all inhabitants by cursing them, by tormenting them and finally casting them forth from their very homes. Nay I say, we must not let these beasts defile these lands any longer. Look upon them, see them watch us from the ramparts, see how cowards are made at the sight of the upholders of His word..�.
The loud voice of the priest was heard throughout the valley in which a big reinforced farm in the middle of a stream was situated. Signs of a battle fought were clearly seen, the drawbridge was as good as destroyed, the land was turned upside down by the mass of beings running over it. There wasn�t enough time to cover it all up, attempts were made, but too hastily.
The figures gathered on top of the ramparts were not impressed or so it seemed. Nervous, but not impressed. Finally one of the figures made a gesture to a knight, showing no colours, but identified as member of a death knight cult, only serving death. He left the ramparts, only to storm out of the castle with thirty or so of his men, swords drawn, silent, existing to kill.
�Be not afraid, for the Lord is with us.� A last boost in moral before the knights and priests charged the heathens and cleanse the land of their impurity. Filled with the warmth of faith, with righteousness, they had fear, but knew the Lord would watch over them.
The ensuing battle was one of horrors and miracles, prayers cast. Death knights standing up again after mortal wounds were inflicted, priests healing their injured with the blessing of God the Almighty. The battle was fierce, but the breakthrough came for the zealous ones, when their faith started to affect the knights of death, who started to crumble one by one.
The figures on the ramparts grew impatient, and a few charged forth to join the battle. Seeing how their troops were falling apart. But they had carried out their duty, the men of God were no real threat, so many did die, so few were left. With the powers available to them they did cast talons of shadows, formed into monstrosities themselves. One by one the courageous knights and priests fell before them. A last blow onto the demons by casting one of them back to the pits of hell by calling forth the righteous flames of the Angel Gabriel and his flaming sword. But there were too many monsters, too few men.
The battle was over, and the scavenging began. The pair of figures not leaving the rampart, instead stayin there to observe, nodded to one another and went back inside, boosted by this victory, unafraid of any lesser evil.
***
When she woke up she was no where near the burning houses she remembered seeing last. She didn�t know how she got here, her clothes torn, laying in the field, the sun shining. She stood up, holding her head, dizzy, cold, weak in her legs. The sun already passed it's highest point. She didn�t eat for two days now. Looking around she saw huge footsteps leading up to her, a bear she thought. Scared she looked around, moving away from the trail. Slowly, then she turned and ran.
Exhausted, she stopped a few miles further. Leaning forward, resting her hands on her knees, waiting to regain some breath. She noticed after a few moments a sound not far away. Not sure what it was, but bound to be safer then the bear behind her she went to take a look.
Her eyes widened, a faint smile formed on her face, she found a stream of water. Hurrying towards it, to wash the dirt off, to drink something. Looking around her to see if there would be anybody near, not the nudity was so wrong to the common people, the church did not condone it and highwaymen might take advantage, she stopped unbuttoning when she saw a small castle down the river. Food. She washed her face quickly and started to move towards it.
The scars wrought upon the land the previous night were not hidden. She hesitated approaching, bursting out in tears after she saw that she was not out of reach of the horrors done onto her. The bodies loitering the field in front of the castle were an awful display. She wanted to leave. Run away, but she was too tired, too exhausted, and she needed some food.
She sneaked up inside the castle, looking out for signs of life. There were a few voices emanating from one of the upper rooms. She watched carefully, hurried towards the kitchen, which wasn't hard to find since the door to it was open and the smell of meat hung around it. Scrounging for some food, she found a few eggs, some fruits, a steak. A better tasting meal she never had.
All the time looking out for somebody to find her. making sure not to make a lot of sound. Afterwards she sneaked through the courtyard towards the stables, figuring it was the best place to hide. Finding an empty spot, she collected some hay to cover her up, made herself comfortable and fell asleep.
***
Voices in the courtyard. Evening, a few torches where lit here and there, not many, just enough to make the surrounding visible, marking where to and not to step. Through a small window the night sky could be seen, dark blue with purple streaks and an orange glow on the horizon of the fading sun. She felt uncomfortable with it, like she always did. She didn�t fall into a deep sleep, too much on her head, malnourishment, unease, but she needed the rest.
Trying to discern what was being told, she picked up loose information about a new drawbridge, defences of some sorts and a little girl. A little girl, her eyes widened, attention sharpened, was it her little girl, what did these men want from her, if they massacred the ones in front of the gate, what would they do to her child, her love, her everything. She couldn't stand it anymore, her mind running wild with all kinds of scenarios of what they might do to her girl, she had to do something, she had to protect her, she had to stop them.
Deep inside a rage started to burn, a feeling she had before, memories she always knew were there. She always hid them, never wanted to be reminded, always forgot until it started all over again. It wasn't who she was, this monster inside, nobody knew, nobody was allowed to, she'd be hunted. Scared of herself, but more concerned with her precious, she stormed outside.
The men were completely surprised by the huge beast coming out of the stables running towards them, frozen to the spot by fear, they couldn't react until it was too late and their bodies were torn and thrown across the place. The howl allerted the others who out of curiosity came to take a look. Some were nervous, others anxious, seeing their comrades ripped apart they decided to attack. The arcane spells and magick used upon the beast didn't slow her down, even as blood was streaming from her body, it didn't help. In a few moments the beast ran across the whole building shredding to pieces whatever was in her way.
A silence followed. There hadn't been enough time for persons to flee. There were some body parts loitering the place, but most turned to dust as if fleeing the fleshly shell to the burning places below.
Coming to her senses, satisfying her inner beast, she looked at the horror she herself caused. Weakened, saddened, at the brink of tears. She had to find her girl, wandering about the building, shouting her precious� name, it felt as if all was lost. A sound, hope flowing through her veins.
***
The small retinue halted near the rotting corpses spread across the land in front of the castle after a mere gesture was given by the old man. Overseeing the past aggressors among the dead he wondered what had happened, wondering why the old man halted them in front of the building, why they didn�t retake it.
�You will soon get your answers, be patient.�
Startled by the fact that the old man knew that he was wondering things, he didn�t knew he was showing his concern that obvious, he should�ve been able to hide it more then this. Wondering about these things he noticed movement in the courtyard.
�My lord�, making the old man attentive of it, though he knew it was obsolete.
A woman and a little girl walked out of the gate, crossing the shallow moot. Torn clothes, mud all over them, barefooted. They saw the group, the little girl hid behind the woman and clinched herself to her, shyly looking from behind her.
�Kill the woman, bring me the girl.� The old man gestured towards him.
He had been a warrior for more years he could remember, he killed too many to count, fought numerous battles and still lived. Such a cold blooded act of murder however was something he had never done.
�My lord, it�s a woman.�
�If not you, any other would gladly fill your place.�
Understanding what the old man meant, valuing his life more then anything else, he, after initial hesitation, drew his sword a motioned his horse forward. The woman was weak, barely able to stand on her feet, let alone pose a thread. She turned to face the girl, kneeled, kissed her on her head, whispered a few words when she looked her into the eyes. She stood up straight again, leaning on the child for a bit of stability. He saw a tear rolling down her cheek before he lowered his sword.
He lifted the girl up, put her in front of him on his saddle and rode back to the small retinue. It was as if the old man smiled, he never saw him do that in the years he served him.
***
Introduction
For those that read this. I do not know how you came to the possession of this book, for I did not write if for your eyes to see, read and perhaps phantom an understanding of the years that passed becoming stories, perhaps chronicles to some, combined into one, namely my life. Better yet, my existence, for life is not mine, nor many of those that breathe still. Existence is a more appropriate term to use in certain circumstances. Remaining on this earth for no apparent reason that will eventually matter is a waste in my eyes. I do not care that you are reading this piece of literature compiled by memories, it is more a show of my lack of certain precautionary measures to insure this tome remaining there where it is left by me.
As to why I wrote this, or even started to exhibit the urge of wanting to write about, well, me, I must probably give credits to whatever small measure of ego I have. Perhaps it was the momentarily lack of entrepreneurship plaguing me these days resulting in a somewhat uncomfortable boredom one could say. A new quest to ease stirring restlessness one could say. Seeing as everything has been taken care of, not that I will go into deeper details at this time.
This supposed to be an introduction to the rest of these so called memoirs of mine. I find it difficult to introduce myself, since all that is to be said will clearly follow this forethought. With that, I made this obsolete and left myself wondering why I began this in the first place.
As for strangers reading these pages, please do note, the only reason why you are still reading, is simple, I have yet to catch you, but catch you I will, I always do catch those I set my mind to. This is no threat, just a friendly, however you want to interpret that, warning.
Prologue
After I wrote that word, I stared and it wondering why I should write anything within this chapter. A prologue of what exactly is debatable. That which went on before is a rather broad capture of events that could be discussed. Not to mention that it is not clear what exactly will be discussed in later chapters stating my current state.
Perhaps easiest of all would be the state of being, before the ascension, the alteration, the becoming of who and most importantly what I am. For I am not like I was, trapped in this undying husk I so eagerly cling to with every might I can muster in order not to let go of it. No, I was, like everybody else in the flock was and still is: fragile, unaware, unknowing, but moulded into a shape that still remains this day.
I find it hard to recall precise memories of times long since past. I wonder when I hear others tell stories so blatantly as if they were still there, as if the incident happened but moments ago.
In all the years that I watched and observed this is the most striking part which I noticed, the memories may remain inside, but as each hour, day, month, year passes, that memory is slowly and steadily suppressed until buried underneath so many layers that recalling it not only takes a lot of hard effort,, but for the average human impossible to do so. There are ways to lessen the strain, but these take time, and by then, the reason why is not important any more.
Only the gravest of injuries, the very peaks of heights and bottoms of lows of a life do remain rather close to the surface. I draw upon these memories and from which shall this small chapter be written as truthfully as I can remember. Biased towards my view on what occurred for I remember and am alone at this to write.
Writing a prologue of life should begin by the beginning, however, there is much to write about from those days I did take breath as nourishment. Perhaps a separate chapter about those days would explain more on how I did become that what I am.
A vampire.
Breathing
Breathing. Such a rare commodity that is, though done to keep up appearances, it is no longer needed safe for letting air into your lungs in order to speak. Feeling the warm rays of the sun at your skin, pinching eyes, and a breeze through your hair. A memory I tend to cherish at times like these, but only a memory. From time to time such fleeting images are sometimes carried through after satisfying my hunger.
I was contemplating earlier days, as may be clear I tend to write too much whenever I find myself at a so called roll. I do not remember my days as a child much, I vaguely remember a story from my parents going something along the lines of immigration to the new world from some obscure country, most likely a western European one, for I do not know any Slavic languages, nor recall ever having known them. It is rather natural for humans to forget such things, even more so because it all happened before I could even go potty, as it was called, without aid of others.
A brand new world or such was the label put on it. So many opportunities, so much to explore, so much shyte that was and people still believe it. Yes, a lot has changed, but as human one does not notice the effects as tremendous as one like me. Growing up in the dirt of a new settlement, a small town, oh such joyous world it was in which I was young. The educational level was laughable, as were the living standards and security available.
Of course, independence was not the major threat for conflict in those days, it was the war with the French and the bought native tribes the British and affiliated colonists had to worry about. So dreadful the draft was and all for a crown never to even have set foot on the soil fought over. I lost a brother in that way, I cannot remember any of my siblings nor my other family members, all I know is that they died natural and some not so natural causes.
Life as a child was good I think. As mentioned, the education I enjoyed was hardly worth it, I pride myself with my self tutelage I forced upon myself, I do not regret that choice. I had some help in the matter, but all was done by me in the end.
I can recall a stressful night, my sisters screaming, some of my brothers beaten, some already dead, or was that my father? I do not recall how it started, I do know quit clearly that it were British soldiers responsible. Why, one could only guess, perhaps retreating from some front and outing their frustration on defenceless homes? It does not really matter, it happened, that matters.
I can at times remember the weirdest details of that night. It was raining and chaos reigned by screams all around the place, so much disorder all at once, yet so clearly. Too young to resist or even try to do something against it. It is not a nice sight to witness when your family is mistreated to put it mildly. As a child it almost seems unreal, you are not aware of consequences of actions taken, you are however more susceptible to being moulded and all around feelings and emotions, so tears tend to gush out in pools of salty drops.. As a child you hardly realise how things come to an end, falling asleep from tiring yourself out would be the best way to forget.
You wake up, you notice that the room is as messy as your bed, since you are too young to do that yourself, but life is as it always was, or so you assume. Clearly it is not else it would not have left such an impression. It was relatively quiet after that, the community tried to not let the children suffer all too much by hiding their own fears from them.
Regardless of said measures taken to protect us, they were only citizens who were not made out to be soldiers. They cheered when the French passed the town, as children the sights of many natives accompanying them were ones of awe, curiosity, fear, inspiring dreams. It should not be something strange to hear this, it is like the region I live in now when the so called guest workers came to live here. When one never saw people different than oneself, beholding one that does not look the same raises all kinds of questions, it starts a process and from this, dreams are created.
It should come to no surprise that when the British got the upper hand the French troops came back through the town, retreating, falling back to a better front to defend. Of course, followed in their wake were the British and as it happened, of course the raiders remembered and came along. How righteous it must have been to clear a town of all the evil in it, by evil of course it is the obvious French allegiances harboured by the whole town.
Save me and a younger sister whose name is lost to the beatings of time, my whole family was murdered, my mother and older sisters raped, and this of course all in front of our eyes, made to watch what happens to traitors of the crown.
Only afterwards did I place everything where it should have been placed, did I understand what happened when I read about it. In the end, it did not matter, I was too unaware and not capable of doing anything about it. Perhaps put there by the strands of faith, perhaps pure luck, but with all the knowledge I have now I can only pity those that think luck is tangible and something wholly not influenced by anything at all, diluted fools.
I should go more into detail on the valiant battle fought against those that wanted to divide me and my sister but eventually lost, separated brutally from everything I had known, the times I spend in the different orphanages run by nuns and their inept educational systems, the rebellion I felt inside raging, how every time I did it turned out to be the wrong road, how I became an adolescent, how I was released into society, how I joined the fight against the crown., but to be honest, more information than what I just wrote is like most things, lost to time.
I did however fall in battle against British forces. Amidst the chaos I saw it coming, frozen in time by sheer horror of not being able to do anything about it. Did you ever experience that? As if time freezes all around you, safe for your perception of it, how it goes so slow, how you notice every move, how you want to react, yet your body is not as free as your mind, stuck into position, awaiting the inevitable strike, the excruciating pain of a blade ripping asunder skin, digging deeper into organs, blood vessels popping open, blood wanting to flow out of you, muscles tensing up around the metal, yet weakening as a whole, collapsing.
Of course, I was still alive when I hit the ground, the blade had to come out, the same excruciating way. I was left for dead, still frozen in time my body was, so unreal, I laid there, bleeding, breathing faintly. I do not recall the shadow standing over me, I do not at this day understand why she picked me, but at her mercy I died.
At her mercy I was reborn.
First Steps
I do remember all of it. I do not understand it, I never will. The moment I was turned, when the world around me was no more, when the world around me was so much more then I could ever have imagined, lasted eons, lasted a mere fraction of a second. Understanding all at once, spiritual enlightenment, a universe at your feet, that same universe crumbling down upon you. I am trying to put into words an experience I clearly cannot. Even the words written already do not do it justice.
The impact of the hard brick wall, onto which one is thrown with immense speed, shook me up into this world again as ruthless as it was. Throwing me aware of my surroundings again I was overwhelmed by a hunger. Luckily for me, the battlefield was quit rich with food supplies, onto which I feasted that first night. Of this I cannot recall much, since that urge, that beast within, did take over for the first time of many since then.
I realised afterwards that my change healed my body, at least the superficial mark, from within it all shrivelled away. Striking is it not, that my wound did not bother me, that I did not even noticed it was healed, I was too occupied understanding at first, then with feeding, It was not hard to learn that lesson, and once I was satisfied, once I was done,, did I start to question and wonder, once I was done, did I notice.
My body was so much more than what it had been, yet also painfully lacking. My eyes burning with curiosity, I lost a lot of that, yet compared to most it still burns within me. I completely forgot my sire those first few minutes or so when I was getting myself aware of the field, the smells, I wanted to laugh, I could not, there was no air within me, another lesson. When I suddenly noticed her smiling satisfied at me, she must have read my desire to understand again, she held her hands stretched out for me, beckoning to come and hold them within my own.
We must have stood there looking at one another for some time when she finally looked away, back at me and nudged me to follow. Soon after we arrived at her hideout in some remote town I never been to, the sun did rise, and I was once again overwhelmed, this time, with sleep I tried to fight it, but I was still too weak. So sleep is what we did.
Lessons Learned
The first few years, then again, what is a few to one who has eternity, laid the basis for all those that came after. I yet again am lost at where to start. Describing her perhaps, but also in that, obstacles keep me from beginning out of nowhere. Lessons she taught should not be something to begin with either, nor the travels undertaken to witness events.
She was mad, that as much should have been clear. I do remember the occasional outbursts everybody has at times, illogical steps taken by her like we all do, but compared to those that condemn us to insanity, I do not recall her being that different. Most artists have more quirks than she did.
I recall all those lessons, the time spend with her at least, from that the teachings. How they started so very simple, explaining who and what I am on very basic level. A vampire, embraced into the clan of the moon, the seers, gifted with the sight. I learned how to sustain this existence by feeding, how to do that without causing a mess, basically it was a course in killing and how to dispose of bodies.
All that followed by to what society I belonged to, the rules of etiquettes to take into account, the differences in clans, societies, laws, all with so much detail, it seemed so simple. I fail to see why I should bother myself with explaining all these concepts, these ideas, their workings and relationships with one another, for these are things for a different evening when weariness of the night gets to me once more and I deem it worth the effort to write of such things.
We never did stay all too long in one place, one might had easily mistook us for some outlanders roaming the lands. I will go into detail on these later, right now however I want to emphasize the teachings I got from mere observing. It made me quit a good tracker, native skills in that area were apparently one of her, many, talents.
It was quite refreshing to experience spirituality in that kind of fashion. It however was not all encompassing, there were gaps to be filled, not only in spirituality, but also in reasoning. Trying to understand why actions were taken and others were not. This was a search that did take me a long time to find out, luckily for me, I found answers in the psychology, but this took me a long time to wait for until it reached the level it has these days. Quite the material to read, of course one has to keep up with this kind of field, so I will have my share of reading to do.
A strong mind in a strong body. This is also a very important lesson so many fail to realise. One should not be just a mere scholar, nor should one be a mere fighter. I found this piece of reasoning in some old eastern philosophy, one should be a warrior, a fighter with the mind of a scholar. Hence the reason why I adopted a routine for maintaining a healthy physical condition, at least, as healthy as an undying can be.
Now that may sound like the rabble of old before it degenerated into the generalised image of the punk, there is a difference though, the Asians had it more as a way of life than a religion. I could go on about all kinds of theses on the subjects of differences and resemblances between philosophy and religion. This also, however interesting to elaborate is not relevant to this writing of mine.
To get back on track of the subject discussed in this chapter, lessons. The most interesting lessons of all were those of the blood. Note that I do not wish to reveal all that I am, like I mentioned before, there are laws that bind me, this manuscript in itself is affront to just the most important one. I therefore will keep it to this, one can enhance that which one is, either physically or mentally. How easy it becomes to overcome any mundane obstacles.
Humans are so predictable at times, yet so chaotic the next. So wonderfully enriched with a spark that dies off when one becomes cursed, or blessed depending on your point of view, to vampirism, at times a trait to envy, alas such feelings are a waste of times more often than not.
Moving Along
Moving along towards a description of my travels when I was first accompanied, then alone. As mentioned earlier I did travel a lot. For the major part of my first two centuries I did nothing but walking this earth together with my sire. Not that I wanted to, more so because of the enslavement by her. That is a too harsh a word for somebody you loved without doubt, trusted without questioning, how only later you discover why and how such feelings were generated.
However, the separation is to be postponed. Witnessing the dawning of a new empire is rather refreshing. Nowadays these kinds of changes do not really happen any more. In the first few years of my existence, the so called fledgling years, it just happened to be years of massive upheaval. I was lucky as it were, to witness both the American and French revolution first handed.
I could not idly stand by, fighting the British was something my sire did not condone, but did not stop me from doing. Why she did so I do not know, I can only make an ill based guess that she feared me resenting her for withholding some just revenge from me.
The French revolution was something we knew about before we heard the stories. It took us a while to reach Europe, only to find it in a state of war, poverty, paranoia. So many pointless deaths a war makes is a shame really, interesting to observe, but not enjoyable. Luckily for the world is the fact that most leaders tend to slowly degenerate into corruption, making it all too easy to defeat them.
During these travels through Europe I did come across a small mining town, where I reside this day. I however did not stay there at the time. I remembered it when I came back. I have seen the world, the wonders, the atrocities, the magic, all of the many faces it is enriched with. On the most basic of levels however, it is all the same.
It was all so very dangerous to travel in those days. My kind is made for the city life, not for the open roads so overly crowded with those beasts. The run-ins we did have were short lived thankfully, so fragile their minds are. All things changed coming the dawn of steam. Travel was no longer a life and death risk. The new mode of transportation increased travel time, meaning that one did not have to be put into danger for a long time. It is still dangerous, but the hazardous undertaking greatly improved survival changes. No longer did one need to rely on the outlanders for guidance.
My sire took me to all the places one should see in his or her life. All my travels combined were nothing more than a site seeing trip that, as it were, lasted decades. We always ended up witnessing the major events that later were noted down in history books. For this I am grateful to her, it lasted a bit long for my liking though, above this all, the visions did not tell of occurrences to look forward to.
So it happened to be the Great War to end my companionship with my sire. How noble of her to die for me. I was feeding. At writing that I halted for a moment realising that her death is though unfortunate, not of concern in here. My resentment towards the British forces was however rekindled as it were and with that said, I will speak no more of the incident.
The next two decades I wandered about, lost, a shock I had to deal with. I will not explain such feelings to one that cannot comprehend it. I did have some problems of dealing with the trauma. Who would not feel a little shaken up? This predicament did not last for long however and not long after this all hell broke loose again.
In these years of a second world war I ended up meeting most of vampires I know today. I gave up the travels and settled down in the mining village I mentioned earlier. Having met up with the guy, who eventually would become sheriff, on some battlefield in Europe in some place that is not relevant any more, we had our mutual interest which got us to talk. I remembered the town, I convinced him of travelling there.
Here is where the travels end. Here is where the story continues.
A Brave New Start
A brave new start it was to be. Out of the ashes from the wasteland called Europe, the old ones stirred again, less afraid of the witch hunt that had been going on. Though with much of their power structures weakened they were left with a less well based claim for power and from this the handful fledgling domains rose to rival the old established ones.
This is when we settled down into one of those domains, hinting of course on the rabble friend accompanying me. Together with the prince and council of the domain, we made sure that it would survive the thorn and wrath of those that claimed it as their own before. The claim of domain by the resident prince existed a decade or so before the war, I do not remember it being a separate domain from when last I resided there.
All that matters is that the domain stands on her feet by herself now. Those that have made it their home, their safe have, make sure that it stays in the hands of those who have it. No longer in the thraldom of whomever her former masters were, having shed those cords since, she is doing rather well.
Having had over half a century, I have become entrenched too deeply to just stand up and leave. Becoming a respected member of the community was a difficult task at first, but when they started to get accustomed to my presence, and with them I mean those residents who were already there, when they saw what I could contribute, they allowed me into their midst.
In all these years so much has happened. It is as if the whole world is turning at a much faster pace these days. One should heed the steps taken if one is not to miss progress, for with a blink the new hype is over already.
The whole area was seething with mines. No wonder the sewer rat was prince, his domain was and probably still is a lot vaster than one realises. Who knows what they have festering down there, I am one reluctant enough to go and find out for myself. It was a shame for him to see his mining operation come to a halt. I doubt that the official closing stopped him. Besides, with all the information stored in that building one cannot but believe that he got his shit together after disaster struck for him.
The result of so many unemployed workers was something to behold. So many incidents were blamed on me, I did observe, yes, but I was not the one pushing. I did my share and I will not deny that, it was destiny that made me. The fear so rampant, the fingers pointing at me for blame did show one thing, they do fear what they do not know.
Enough about the depressive state of mind, there are also good things that came forth. So many new buildings rose from the ground, nature was being cornered where it could be, modes of transport having become marvels to behold. Progress is astounding if one can witness the changes taken form around one.
To All Good Things
To all good things must come an end, and although this tome will not be finished for a while, an ending is near. You see, now that you have read about who I claim to be, I must confess that it was all a big lie. I know who you are. Do not believe it was a mistake or an omission. I wanted you to find this. I wanted you to know by what you will find death. I am the cause of you being unable to stop reading. I am watching you.
In truth, the life you read about was more taken from a grandchild of mine, which I adopted after his passing, in order to find refuge and not threaten those I came into contact with. They do not know about me, they never will. I will burn this paper afterwards.
Do not worry yourself with the illusion of escaping. I had time to prepare, I am so pleased that you did as I foretold. No, the telephone, another marvel of technology which enriches us today, will not work, I made sure of that. The windows are sealed, as are the doors through which you entered and through which you had hopes of leaving. I made sure that no human can breach them.
I am far older. I witnessed more than you can ever imagine. I lost many to the flames, I saw the dawning of society as it is. I saw the end. It terrifies me. One cannot imagine fear unless one has experienced it, like you are right now. I am not standing behind you.
Future events cannot be changed. The big upheavals will happen. One can postpone them however, by not letting the thin blooded ones plague this earth is one way, influence them, by understanding the course it is about to take and reacting to it, but they will eventually happen. Time does not look happy upon a paradox. This is true in so many examples, just as you cannot change your doom at my hands, it was written before the wheel was set in motion. I am grateful that you chose the right path, do not condemn me for acting my part out.
Sleep now, an eternal dream.