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Selene stood at the entrance of the alley, her senses attuned to the chilling atmosphere. The air hung thick with the stench of blood and desperation, a telltale sign of the violence that had unfolded just moments before. Shadows danced around her as the moonlight caught the cobblestones, revealing the lifeless body that lay crumpled at her feet. She stepped closer, her heart seemingly beating in time with the pulsing darkness surrounding her. The young vampire was shattered, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle, eyes still open but devoid of the spark of life. Selene went down on one knee, brushing a slender fingertip across the boy’s blank expression. She recognized him — it was Martin, a fledgling who had often sought her wisdom. The other vampires had mocked him, pointing out his inexperience as he tried to fit into their merciless world. Selene had watched him from afar, touched by his earnestness, but always aware of the perils that lurked within their kind. She had warned him time and again to stay away from the darker factions of their society, but he had been drawn to them, eager for acceptance, blinded by his craving for power and belonging. Gritting her teeth, Selene whispered a prayer over the young vampire’s body. "Rest now, Martin. I will find out who did this to you." She traced a circle around him with her finger, channeling a small spark of her own power, invoking the energy of the night. |
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With the evening closing in, Percy walked the stone streets, his forearms dripping with blood. The wounds had already begun to heal themselves, however the deeper gashes would take a little longer, vampire inflicted wounds always required a little more work to heal. He decided to bandage them, it would be questionable for him to be seen about with cut up arms, so he would cover them while they healed. Passing through the quaint houses, he began to run, feet barely echoing along the stone roads as he paced himself home. The cold air smelled of rain, and filled his lungs with an icy burn. He pushed faster, the sting of the wind on his cheeks flushed them pink, with renewed energy he pulled his hood off his head and ran through the sleeping town. A shadow in the dark, he moved with grace and carefulness. The run had rejuvinated him, the cold night air had given him a burst of energy that shivered through him as he unlocked his front door. With a soft spoken release spell, and a small wave of his hand, the door opened for him. Walking through the dark, he took off his cloak and shoes, putting them neatly aside. A warm fire sputtered into the fireplace, and sitting back in his chair he tossed the matches back into their box. His mind stayed on the young vampire he had spoken with, the boys eyes etched into his memory. A young boy, fighting a war he had no part in. How cruel. Percy had been right to feel pity for the boy, yet if given half a chance the boy would have killed him. Deep in thought, Percy wrapped clean bandages over his forearms, eyebrows furrowed. A gentle pitter patter sounded from the windowsill, Percy looked out to see a soft drizzle falling over the town. The evening was still young, and he needed a drink. Lighting a small warm scented candle, he grabbed his shoes and cloak. He would find a small tavern, something with food and ale, and perhaps a woman to warm his bed. Speaking his spells over the door and house, he turned off into the town, happy for the rain to wash his worries away as he walked. He pulled his hood up, following the sounds and smells of a loud jostling place nearby. |
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Turning on her heel, Selene stalked off into the shadows, her senses sharpening. The hunt was on. The alley swallowed her whole as she moved deeper into its shadows, her senses now on high alert. Every whisper of the wind, every creak of a distant door or footstep echoing off the stone walls, made her pause, her eyes flicking to the darkness around her. She was no longer just seeking vengeance; she was hunting. As Selene moved through the winding streets, she drew on every scrap of knowledge she had gained over centuries—patterns in the way vampires operated, the signs of an ambush, the subtle but distinct aura left behind by powerful blood. It wasn’t long before she found herself standing at the edge of an old, abandoned warehouse, its windows shattered and the door hanging loosely from a rusted hinge. The energy she had sensed earlier was stronger here, almost suffocating in its presence. There was something ancient and primal about it. Selene stepped forward, the soles of her boots muffled against the wet ground. A quiet hiss, barely audible, echoed from the darkness within. She tensed, but didn’t falter. |
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The small tavern was loud with voices, but stood half empty. It smelled of ale and sweat, and his shoes stuck to the floor in some odd sticky residue. Frowning in disgust, he pulled his cloak off his head and looked around the chairs and tables. He settled on a small empty table in the damp corner, leaning his head on the wall behind him. Movement across the tavern caught his eye, where two grossly drunk men were shouting in insults and slurs at each other. A small grin crossed his face, at least there would be some small entertainment for the evening. Anything to take his mind off the vampire boy he had encountered. A sloshing mug of ale was slammed down in front of him by a hefty barmaid, and with a polite smile he waved her off. He sipped at the sour tasting ale and debated whether or not he should have come out at all. |
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Warming, with Sleet and Heavy Icing
