Archive for October, 2013

Halloween special

Posted: October 31, 2013 in special
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Halloween, that time of year is upon us again, when the ghouls come out to play. This year the Ravenwood legacy celebrates with a special, involving one of my favourites, that  just so happens to be ridiculously cute *cough cough* only me? Either way, this is set a little bit before generation two and with some familiar faces in it too. This is not just a random chapter, some of the small details do lead on into generation five, and lots of photos, yay! Who doesn’t love photos. 

The song featured in this special is halloween by the Misfits. But has been covered by other bands and artists (AFI, wiL Francis, Alkaline trio etc). 

Happy halloween guys, stay spooky and stay safe 🙂 



Bonfires burning bright 
Pumpkin faces in the night
I remember halloween 


Dead cats hanging from poles
Little dead are out in groves
I remember halloween 



“Oh god, it’s happening again!” A voice cries out from behind closed curtains. Armies of the dead, the damned and the broken haunted the streets. Ghoulish giggles, and blood curdling screams reach up to the pristine full moon, and echoes, like it’s radiance back to earth and the beyond. Blood stained youth, carrying masks of the dead. “But… How? I thought I had more time.”


The door bell rings, and silence. He pauses, every muscle in his pale body freezing to the very sound. With hell knocking on his very door, what could he do, and how could he survive? Another ring. Another knock. And the hopeless fear still ensues.

The soft pitter patter of a heart beat relentlessly beats at the door. Be brave, for mother, he thinks with a groan, slowly inching towards the door. How bad could it truly be? Pulling off the lock, and turning the key, his hand shivers against the cool metal door handle, wobbling slightly, he manages to open it, with full view of the neighborhood.

And the creature…


Such a horrid creature…

“Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh” Arkin’s scream erupts throughout the entire house. Shaking it, corner from corner. Along with his own trembling bones, and terrified mind. The host, and child was a devil worshiper! Worshiping the very worst kind of evil spirit in the world.


“Trick or treat!” The beasts snarls, with a toothy grin. Two more stalking down the path that led to the very door that he stood. The creature’s teeth gleaming back at him, in the dim light from inside. It’s whiskers curve with it’s cruel smile, as it waits. Waits for him to let his guard down, so that it could pounce.

“Be back to your corner of hell, demon spawn!” Arkin hisses, slamming the door shut. The fear rising to his throat, and turning his voice to a strangled, hysteric sound. “Mother!! Mother, help!” Struggling with lock, he counts the days since they had risen up from the very depths of hell. Three hundred and sixty five days, not a day sooner, or less. And every year they came. Like clockwork.


“Cut it with all the blasted screaming, Arkin, we’ve guests in these halls tonight.” Snapping around the instant that her voice called out through the house, terror seizes him again. Painted ghouls, and leather pants, silk as fine as cobwebs. Someone was screaming, the sound pierced his ear drums painfully. Who was screaming? Was it him? “Child! Merely camouflage for the ritual tonight. Asmodeus and Azazel have offered their assistance in the blood rite. Arkin! Hush!”

“A… Are you sure that it’s… It’s them?” Arkin’s voice is a mere whisper, as he breathes in the air around him, taking in all the scents in the room. His eyes not one leaving either one of the strange men. Studying their faces with brave curiosity.

“Positive!” Morrigan taps her foot impatiently, somewhat embarrassed of her son’s behavior. He was a nuisance at the best of times, and this particular date set her tolerance for him at an all time low. Human children ran through town, like bloodhounds on the hunt, for anything to stuff their fat little faces with. Her face turns into a sneer, innocent blood was the sweetest, and they were easy pickings tonight. “You need to blend in if you wish to be safe, go get ready, so we can begin.”



Brown leafed vertigo
Where skeletal life is known
I remember halloween 


This day anything goes
Burning bodies hanging from poles
I remember halloween 



“What on earth are you supposed to be, boy?” Asmodeus growls, as Arkin skips down the stairs and into the living room. A brown hat tops his head, with a fake beard dusting off his chin. The fluffiness of the fur tickling his bare chest. “You’re meant to be scary, you won’t scare anyone off with that. It’s patheti-“


“I’m a gnome!” Arkin says cheerfully, despite the aggression steaming from the dark haired vampire. “And you won’t want ma  to hear you talk like that. Besides, gnomes are scary! Terrifying actaully! They live in the basement and trees, and they want to steal my teeth! And-“

“I don’t care, truly, Arkky boy.” His golden eyes narrow in on his supposed leader. Studying the vacant face, and lost look in his eyes. It sent waves of anger down his spine, this was his superior, and Arkin was nothing more than an overgrown child. Of course he hadn’t always been as such. “I just hope your scary enough to scare away the bunnies.” Scoffing, Asmodeus grits his teeth together.

“Well gnomes are scary, I almost peed a little getting the damned costume on. I almost wish vampires didn’t have a reflection, although a floating gnome head could be scarier…” Arkin rambles, his eyes a light with livid curiosity and fear. But he knew that this man was strong, his mother wouldn’t leave him alone with someone who couldn’t be trusted. “But you’re not scary… I mean, a little when you’re angry, but-“


“I’m not trying to hide, if they want a fight, they’ll have one.” With a roll of his eyes, Asmodeus smirks. It seemed rather ridiculous to tell a grown man stories of hallow’s end like it were true, but it did bring some amusement. They weren’t really demons, just child, running free in the streets. But Morrigan was using that fear for her own sick desires. And he’d play the game if need be. “But you know what I heard?” As Arkin leans in, his smirk grows wider. “I hear that gnomes love vampire teeth, and something they love even more, not many people know of course, because by the time they find out, it’s too late, but red eyes.”

“W.. W… What?!” Arkin cowers, his voice in a slight tremble, as his eyes face the mirror, regretting the moment that he chose his disguise. Maybe they wouldn’t know that it was him. I mean, he could pass for one of the soldiers of the garden killers. “Th.. the ritual… We need to start it soon. Or… Or they’ll come for me…. Oh god…. What if they come for me… My teeth, my beautiful teeth.”

In the reflection of the mirror, a dark and ghostly silhouette appears, choking back a sob, Arkin realizes that it is only his mother. “Your right, my boy, we should begin, the moon is up, and the blood is ready.” Morrigan purrs sweetly, clasping his cheeks between the palms of her hands. “Your ready, child. The night is calling to us.”


Halloween, halloween, halloween, halloween 


In the streets, and out in the open, the demons roamed freely, and without a care. Squealing loudly with the joys of the hunt. Arkin’s eyes were shifty, scanning side to side on each side of the road. Nervous gulps were taken each time that his eyes met another.


Maybe it would be the little super villain skipping down the path that would strike first. Perhaps the tiger, face full of stripes, and skin bared for all the world to see. Her friend with bright pink wings, flapping in the wind. Light specks of rain touched his cheeks, and dripped into the fur edging his chin, weighing it down.

Could he run fast enough if they realized he wasn’t really a gnome? Arkin didn’t know a lot about tigers, but he had seen them on the discovery channel, and they were deadly killers. Keeping his head down, he stumbled down the suburban path. Hearing the reassuring steps of his comrades near him.

But each step was calculating, and they were on the hunt. Breathing in the cold air around them, and watching each mortal with keen interest. Of course Asmodeus was the first to split from the group, with a dark smile creeping over his face. “I rather like the smell of this house, new born baby just has that… Indescribable flavour, innocent almost, my favourite.”


“Arkin, would you join u-“

“I… Uhh…” Arkin interrupts hastily. The memory of the first time that this date had happened, and the fear that it had brought him, that it always brought him. The high priestess that had stood at his mother’s side, and told him, without a blood sacrifice, by mortal hearts, then those creatures would not rest. But it made his heart grow sick with the idea of spilling blood, not just blood, but death. By his hand. “Not this house…”

“Are you sure, Arkky, I mean, there’s still a few loose rabbit’s out there.” Asmodeus’ face grows cold, arrogance dripping off of every word. Yet he didn’t care if his so called Prince couldn’t take a life, for tonight, he would take many, and rejoice in it’s euphoria.

“Well…” Azazel sighs, his white hair dripping every so slightly underneath the large top hat. “After you, brother. I’d not let this night go to waste. Morrigan, are you coming, or baby sitting?”


With the gritting of her sharp, razor teeth, she replies coldly. “Newborns don’t interest me, go on ahead, and I’ll….” And she pauses, not quite realizing what to say. Her heart had grown colder and colder over the years for her son, and his weakened state of mind. But she lived in hope, that he would return to her one day. And the fierce killer she had raised would come back. “I’ll show the boy the joy of the hunt  again.”

“As you wish, my queen.” Bowing his white head down in respect, Asmodeus knocks of the door. Suddenly feeling a thousand years younger, and as though their veins were full of adrenaline, they wait. Steps towards the door, and their anticipation grows with each second.

“Trick or treat, might you let us in for a bite to eat?” Asmodeus purrs, his eyes locking in on the woman, her eyes looking weary, and her hair dirty.



Candy apples and razor blades
Little dead are soon in graves
I remember halloween 


This day anything goes
Burning bodies hanging from poles
I remember 



“I’m sorry, mother…” Arkin finally mumbles, the night drawing to a close, less and less creatures on the streets. Retreating back to their homes for another year. “I’m not brave like you, or strong like Asmodeus… And I’m sorry… But I’m trying, and obviously I do not wish for those vile things to take over our world…”

“Try harder then. I do not see what the problem is.” Morrigan snaps, before calming her frayed nerves. It was dawning on one in the morning, and still, he had not chosen a target. Not even one. At her wits end, her glare could kill. “I raised you better than this, you are vampire, Arkin, you are a killer. Whether you like it or not, it is what you are. Deep in your veins. I am a killer, your father was a killer, you damned daughter is a killer-


“And perhaps I should have raised her better.” There were brief moments, Morrigan thought, no matter how fleeting, that Arkin would regain the stature he once had. That the look in his eyes grew fierce, and his voice was one that could command armies. But behind his fear, and confusion, she could see the bitter loneliness that the years had left him with. With a slight cough, he slowly steps out of the cold water in the fountain, standing before his mother’s deadly gaze. “I’ll end this night, and take a… A life… I don’t wish to deal with Lucifer’s Princess’ or bat jerk for a year…”

“Good.” Morrigan growls sharply. A part of her was tormented, that her son was so broken, perhaps beyond repair. Yet he was at least, going to take one life tonight. Once a year, that was the only chance she had to bring back his tenacity, unless they started dressing up on Easter, or Christmas… Afterall he did have a deep rooted hatred for the man in red. But every life he took, every drop of blood, she liked to think helped to awaken the long since gone god of death inside of him. “Now go. And don’t dare come back until you finish this.”

And so he did, staying off the main roads to avoid the hordes of the dead, he followed the scent of the breeze. The scent was recognizable, as it would be one hundred miles away. Coming death. There she sat, on an old stone bench, surrounded by the buried dead, at least he had hoped that they would stay buried.


“What are you doing here?” Arkin asks, his voice shivering. The scent of death wafting up from the musty ground made his insides weak. And this woman, with faded hair, and wrinkles covering her weathered face was brave enough to sit. Has she lived a long, happy life? He thought briefly, while watching the ground for any signs of movement. This night, on hallow’s end, asked for a sacrifice, but it never stated who. He’d rather one close to the final abyss, than one so young as the other’s preyed on.

“I’m here visiting with my husband.” She replies with a kind smile, her eyes studying him closely, yet not afraid of him. Or his glowing eyes, or gnome costume.

“I don’t see your husband, it’s just us here.” Arkin states bluntly, not picking up the tone of her voice, or the way that her eyes seemed to droop at the mention of it. “Where is he?”


“I like to think a happier place.” Her smile weakens, yet doesn’t fade completely. “Maybe a kingdom in the stars, with all our friends, and family, where on day I’ll join him.” Her fingers curl around the aged wedding ring left on her finger, and her mind goes to another place, where he lived forever.

“Do you wish to join him-“

“I did not imagine a god of death would come to me dressed as well…” Her voice drifts off with a soft chuckle and a knowing look. On her wedding day she had been young, and beautiful, and so alive. Yet now, time did as time always will, it took her memories, and her youth, it stole the colour of her hair, and the smoothness of her face. “Life truly is full of many surprises isn’t it, vampire?”

“Perhaps, more for you than I.” The fact that she had seen through his disguise had not startled him. Over the years, few humans had known him for what he was. And in a town where legends grew, such as Moonlight Falls, it was not surprising some still knew the tales.


“I’m ready.” She whispers, taking his hand.


Halloween, halloween, halloween, halloween
Halloween, halloween, halloween, halloween



Author’s notes

I’m super sorry about the inconsistency with my chapter schedule the last couple of weeks. I have been going through a really tough time, emotionally and personally, which has resulted in my partner of a year going back home. Because of this I am struggling to write, and get photos, and I am sorry for that. But I’m trying, and that’s all we can ask for. 

The last few photos at the end, the game was really dark when I loaded into it, and the graphics were a little off, but i tried to fix it the best I could without having to reenter the save or game again. And I am a little bit unsure of the quality of this chapter, but I don’t want to keep delaying things. 

And this generation is almost over too.



The air in the room became impossibly heavy for Lucian as his life began to fade away. The tight grip around his throat increasingly tight, digging into the soft, and delicate skin below, matting the fur with a slow drip of blood. Around him, the alarming sounds of silence began to pulsate within his skull. The blood pumping painfully, and with each second, slower and slower. His throat raspy, as his legs dangle dangerously off the ground.

As his struggles subside, and die away, Vladimir, his attacker hisses angrily. The door being thrown open with ease, and another vampire stalking through the narrow passage. Blue green eyes, shimmer against the dim lights of the room, dark hair contouring the edges of his pale face. A flash of fangs as he dives forward, a heavy wooden stake held dangerously between his fingers. And he collides with such force against the white hair, muscles gleaming against his ghostly pallor.

Lucian’s heavy body is thrown to the floor, as both vampires meet in a brutal display of strength. However, Phineas’ young age is clear, yet his bravery is much more obvious. “Run!” He hisses to the disoriented man, dazed and on the floor, as he struggles to retain momentum. Yet, in his mind, he knew that he could not hold Vladimir at bay, however, to himself, his own life was at an end once again, yet this boy, had some resemblance hanging in the balance. “Run! Boy, now!”


As both eyes met, time seemed to slow down to eternity, and they were locked in each other’s gaze. Lucian’s strength had not been returned, and could hardly tell who it was in front of him, but he knew, if he stayed, none of them would make it out of this room alive. The extent of his injuries, making each breath an agonizing chore, blood beginning to fill the spaces where air was supposed to be. And with the guilt of a thousand crimes, Lucian swallows painfully, realizing that in his condition, he could not even help his friend. And in those moments that their eyes were locked, the feeling spread through him like wild fire, and his muscles carved in stone, not willing to cooperate with his mind, or to even move.

With a loud snarl, both Phineas, and Vladimir meet again, kicking, scratching and fighting on sheer instinct alone. Phineas’ nails scratch down Vladimir’s flawless face, leaving a messy trail of blood down over his right eye and cheek. This only serves to anger the vampire slipping down the steep slopes of insanity, to which there is no way out. The speed of each hit, and each ill fated move made it nearly impossible to tell who was winning, and who was losing.

But as their bodies pry apart, growling and hissing at each other in displays of dominance, Phineas glances back to Lucian. Fear gripping his undead heart, and a weakness burning in his knees. The night that he had become a vampire, was the night that he was going to die. It was written in the stars and everywhere that he had looked, and it was only the happenstance of a stranger that night that had saved his life. Everything between then and now was borrowed time. His life was over, the day it truly began. His family was gone, passed with age and murder. And now, there was only one choice left to make.

To save a boy, and man who had barely started his life.

And possibly, bring his nephew’s daughter back to life. God, had time passed him by that much?


His gut burns with fear, as his gaze deepens, Lucian’s soul, his for the taking. “Go.” With one swift word, the boy begins to stumble for the door.  Weakly gripping the aged stone for support, as his men wage war on the outside. Gripping onto the stake once more, Phineas nods his head determinedly, closing the gap between himself and the old vampire.

Only one of them would survive this round, and he’d give everything he could.


Bridgeport, city in the clouds, home of the stars. The cloud of haze, a sign of days gone by, of cars who sat in traffic too long, music played too loud, and a city the never slept. The vampire war had been waged for a generation, yet blood had never spilt so much on the streets, and war and never seemed so real until now. With each aching breath that I took, every battle scar had remained.  Every line drawn in the sand, a terrible gash in our histories.

And my mind was foggy, and broken, how I had arrived, or talked myself out of that prison cell veiled in mystery. I remember crying, each tear a haunting need that clung to me like shadows. I remember being terrified, of everything and everyone. Of breaking down, of screaming every fear and insecurity to the moon and back. And then, I remember running, like if I didn’t get here in time, I might not be able to say goodbye, or to say…


I’m sorry…

God what had happened? In the streets, in my mind, they seemed to reflect off of each other. Confusion, loss, bewilderment. Men patrolled the street corners, big guns attached to their hips, and hands. Grim, desolate faces, marred with blood, and other foreign messes. Through the city, the sound of gunfire was ablaze, echoing through the concrete jungle, and beyond. A trill of fear went down my spine, growing up, I’d always been scared of such an uprising, and back then, the vampires, they were seen as nothing more than a glorified gang. Trouble for anyone who had the unfortunate luck of being involved, but everyone else was safe. And now, I was the cause of such a fear.

Vladimir’s fall into madness was my doing… Azazel had said that, hadn’t he? As I walked, more forgotten memories nagged at my mind, and begged to be heard. But for now, I just focused on finding Lucian. I asked a few patrolmen, nervously, or they stopped me. Captain Lucian, they stated with sad faces that sent me running. And it wasn’t til I found the tent, and peaked inside that I understood why.


“- I killed him, Becki!” His strong, husky voice growls through the sleek material of the fabric of the sheet. Pained desperation drips with every lack lustered syllable. “I didn’t even fight… I mean he was too strong, and I… When Phineas got there, I could barely even stand, let alone fight. But I ran, I ran away, with my tail between my legs-“

“Do you think that you had a choic-“

“A choice?” His voice drops suddenly, and I find myself drawn to it, like a moth to a flame. “I led this pack here… God, I’m responsible for all of their deaths. Everyone who got hurt. You know, Derrick Hanson died last night, the kid was only seventeen, and how can I go tell his ma that he’s not coming home… All of em, they’re all on my conscience, and I’m no bloody help in this bed. My dad would hate me right now…”

“Luc, you’re dad would be proud of you, regardless of this mess. He loved you.” The female voice floats softly, as I near the entrance to the tent. Dark golden locks flow, dirt and sticks coating the ends. And a shirt, ripped and torn, with traces of blood on the sleeves. I couldn’t bare to look at Lucian, but my eyes betrayed me. And I stood their, my eyes taking in all there had to be, dark bruising over his face and body, grazing down his arms. “You’re fighting, you’re making a difference. Cane sent his men, because of you, he’s taking an active part in this war, and why? Because someone dared to make a stand. Good intentions, not so good execution, but it worked.” Her hand brushes over his leg, squeezing tightly. In a more tender voice, she speaks. “Besides, the doc said that your bones needed to set properly. You’re healing to quick for your own good. But we need to make sure it’s right, unless we want permanent damage. I know it’s hard-“


“No, you don’t.” Pushing himself off of the bed, and onto his legs, a groan passes his lips. His breath becomes ragged, as his hand brushes through his hair. “They’re all gone, and I have to live with that… And I don’t know if I can. Every time that I shut my eyes, I can see em screaming. Beck, my dad might be proud of me, but I’m not.”

“Hey.. Come on, Luc.” Becki whispers, her hand delicately touching his broad shoulders. A rush of jeaousy passes through me, before the guilt sets back in. It was true, I had ruined his life. My memory over the past few weeks were hazy at best, but I still remembered how I had treated him. The desire to drain his blood. Whispering lies of how I hated him. “Things are hard now, for everyone, and the men need their leader. And after this is all said and done, Nick needs his father. So don’t give up yet. You’ll be back to full health soon, and then… We’ll go from there…”

“What other choice do I-” My step steps down onto a piece of paper, scrunched up and knocked to the floor. And in that instant, my entire body freezes, knowing just what I’ve done. Two pairs of eyes sit on me, and the red burns in my cheeks. “What is she doing here?” Lucian growls under his breath.

“I… I don’t-“


“Deal with it-“

“Please, I just want to talk.” My voice is a high shrill. Demanding, yet weak at the same time. And my heart races in my chest as his eyes flicker, deciding my fate. But I can’t help but understand his seething rage. All of this, was my fault. The things that I had said to him, had wanted to do to him, but it wasn’t me. It couldn’t be me. Even now, I struggled against the bindings that kept my mind a prisoner.

Becki, stands on the tips of her toes, brushing her lips against the nape of his neck and ears, before whispering her desires. Lucian’s lips form a hard line, yet he nods, the girl with the golden hair walking past me, and leaving. Had she gone to get guards? To arrest me? But who could blame them.

As time begins to build, seconds turn to minutes, and I realize, I had only ever focused on getting here in time, not what would happen once I did. War was being fought, lives were being lost, and I had destroyed the one good thing I had in my life. But after all was said and done, maybe I did deserve Vlad. Maybe he knew the type of person i was all along, and tried to hide me from the world, to protect me.


“What…” Lucian coughs, his voice turning weak. “What do you want?” I wanted to say goodbye, maybe I’m better off alone….His fist tightens, turning his knuckles white with force. And as his body slumps forward, my hands ache to touch him, to wrap around his neck and hold him. But my limbs hold me tightly in place.

“The boy is okay… I… I didn’t, you know, hurt him…” I reply almost coldly, a hand on my elbow rubbing it soothingly. Except it does nothing to calm my nerves. Vladimir was in this city, I could feel him every time I closed my eyes, or that my heart bet. He was so close, yet obscured by the shadows. “I never meant for any of this. I mean, I don’t even know how it got so bad. These last months have been a nightmare, losing the baby, going home to Vlad, and then… Azazel, and Blackwater, and everything between then and now. But it wasn’t me, Luc, it wasn’t-“

“And I’m supposed to believe you, take it all for face value?” His muscles stiffen in his shoulders and neck. The beat of his heart growing stronger, and faster, as the stress took it’s toll. “It’s just another one of your lies to get close to the action.”


“You can’t understand what it was like, to have all these thoughts and desires, that aren’t your own. To have no control over yourself…” Curling my arms around my narrow waist, I frown biting into the delicate skin of my lips. Even as i think about it know, I can still hear the words circulating through my brain and deep in my veins. My father was close, I could feel him too. And it was taking everything I had to stay here, to remain calm, to remain me… “I just want to be me, Lucian. I don’t want to be like this, or to feel like this. I can hold a gun, I can shoot, I can fight. Let me go to Vladimir, to Azazel, they trust me… I can-“

“You can what?” Lucian frowns at me, his eyes narrowing in on me. And I feel a hard lump in my throat. “Tell me Vivian! Cause it seems like your full of so many great ideas right now. Why would I let you go to him?” A flash of doubt crosses his eyes, and I can’t quite figure it out. “T… To Azazel? I’m sure you’d love it.”

“I could never love Vladimir…” I growl coldly, my voice dripping with rage at the name. At the mere idea of it. Yet at the same time, I couldn’t help but wonder if I did truly deserve Vladimir, and his cruel treatments of me. “But I can help. i can come back… “

“Just go-“

“Lucian, please, if you don’t want me, if I’ve become something so unforgivable, then say, and I’ll leave, and you’ll never see me again.” My eyes focus resolutely on his, tears springing at the corners, but I manage to keep some form of dignity over myself. “But, if you can forgive, if you still want me, then… I’ll spend the rest of my life fighting to prove to you that I… I love you. And that it isn’t me. none of this has been…”

My voice shaky and a whisper breaks on the last word. A lone tear rolling down my face, cascading and shimmering like expensive pearls. Lucian pauses for a moment, his eyes boring into mine. His arms find their way around me, tightly grasping onto me. And his lips, roughly find mine.


And I’m not sure if this is goodbye…

Or the beginning…


Lucian stares across the abyss, down the long ragged valley that descended into the outskirts of Bridgeport. The tall, and thick fir trees scattered down the way. And he breathes in the musty scent of the age old city, the fumes, and dust, and the blood. The air was hazy, blocking out the light at the tips of the buildings, and settling around the bases. And suddenly, his heart was in his throat as the fur began to fall away from his morphing shape.

Stepping up, he stares back through the mountain pass that he had led his men through. They had all settled behind the grooves of the mountain and were obscured from the ground. Invisible against the night. With a restless arch of his back, he walks through the various wolves, all of which raise their tail, or whine softly by his presence. His human legs carry him into the large center of the mob, and he clears his throat loudly.


“Men and women!” Lucian calls out, focusing on keeping his voice as even as possible. No fear could come across. And all thoughts revolved around what would happen tomorrow night, as the moon hit the peak of the sky, and it’s ghostly magic overcame them all. “Tomorrow will be a great day in our history books, years from now. The human’s will praise our courage, the vampires, our strength, and we, we will sing to the heavens of our brothers and sisters who gave their everything to our preservation. Now, I will not lie or sugarcoat it, because I can see it in the minds of every single one of us, this will not be an easy fight. No, it will take everything in us, but when the moon is strong, and our veins hot with furiousity and justice, we will reign down on them.”

Several wolves shed their coats, and phase back into humanity, with nods of approval to their alpha’s words. Men who had lost brothers to the war, and mothers, children to the blood lust. Everyone had a reason for fighting, whether it be for vengeance, or justice, or glory. From the shadows, several vampires listen in, their eyes resembling the ghostly silhouette of the moon, and their own undead hearts wishing for peace.

“Tomorrow-” A second voice chimes in, the young vampire walks boldly from the tree line to stand beside the lycan. His green eyes intense and striking, in his mind, his thoughts were racing a million miles an hour, and all he could see was blood, and death, to anyone who had been involved in, planned, knew about, or even knew anyone who was involved in the death of his town, and his family. “- We fight as one team, one army, one side. Vampire, and lycan alike, fighting alongside each other for a common cause. My brethren, and my kin, we march on this city with such vitality and rage, that they can either surrender or die trying. All wolves, all vampires, all humans, if they attack us, then we will fight them, such as is war. If you stand against your family, or friends, do not martyr yourself, because if they want blood, then blood they’ll try, but if they are not willing for this fight, then let them pass.”


“Tomorrow we fight for freedom, for hope, for peace.” Lucian responds as the vampire’s voice drops to silence. Phineas stares back at the kid he had met no more than five years ago, and had the pleasure in seeing grow with both maturity and age. Things as simple as seeing one grow up, seeing time passed them by, reminded him of his immortality. Of watching the world pass him by.

The speech continued with each of them speaking for their people, and for the fate of their world. However, their minds were lit with curiosity and doubt. Had Aleksi managed to sway the president’s mind to helping their fight? Did Azazel lurk within the smog of the city, and in it’s infamous lights? And would the free packs fight alongside them all? The questions buzzed around the makeshift camp, whispered between groups, and even though fear had them in it’s clutches, the power and anticipation of the growing moon shone down onto them all.

As was decided, Phineas would take take his men around the city, and creep their way through the southern ports. Vladimir had ships waiting at the docks, filled with anti supernatural weapons, wooden bullets, spray bottles filled with silver particles, and a variety of torture devices. Sitting and waiting for the V.D.F. to collect it in a few days time in return for their loyalty and protection. And on board, Phineas knew was a ledger, filled with various receipts and evidence of their corruption. Step one would be getting that book to Aleksi, and hopefully, the president’s hands.


And through the war-torn city the forces would spread, and anyone who dared to fight, or to warn the head of Bridgeport, would be quickly and easily disposed of. A few lycans would join this hunt, hoping to sway their friend’s minds to break the shackles they had, and to fight for freedom. In the mountains, Lucian would phase into something more than human, and more than a wolf, a creature caught between the two. By his pack’s side, they would stalk down the mountain pass, and launch an attack on the headquarters their enemies had set up.

The fight would be bloody and brutal. But they hoped that they could buy enough time for their friends to join them.



My skin was positively crawling, shivering with each aching beat of my heart. I continued to pace back and forth through the small, dark room in which I had been locked. And for the first time since I had come home, I didn’t know how I felt, furthermore, I couldn’t even tell which was was up or down. The confusion sapped on my bones and my mind, restlessly nagging at some forgotten memories, or feeling, that I had since locked away.

Sometimes, if I closed my eyes, I could feel my spirit almost drifting away from my body, and with that, come a terrible fear, that seemed to eat away at my insides, turning me raw and hysteric. Because even in the darkness they lurked. Vladimir’s soft hand might rub against my back, before a single claw might trace the inside of my thigh, tearing the flesh and bleeding me dry. His stormy blue eyes watched me from the darkness of the shadows, like the ocean, soft and calm, before the winds came and turned it nasty. The cruel self assured smile upon his lips. Vladimir was here, with me, and he had been right all along, I’d never escape him.

The hands of time seemed to linger and break away, fading out of sight and mind. Seconds felt like eternity in the prison of my mind, voices sometimes screamed and shouted from their crooks and crannies in the holes that he had left me with. Telling me to escape, and to make them suffer for what had been done to me. And then the softest whisper, telling me to come back, to wake up. A lost sort of smile plays on my lips, as the door turns, and my pacing stops.


I knew this boy, and yet I didn’t. I recognized the face, but not the man he was becoming. I knew him, but yet no feelings elicited in me. A face without a name, and a heart without the warmth. And yet he came, and seemed to know me, and who I was. The soft smile on his lips, and the sorrow in his eyes. He came, and visited, with food in his hands, and warm cocoa as if to melt the ice settled in my veins. And he was young, too young for war.

“The vamper, with the red hair, the day walker… He’s your father, isn’t he?” The boy mumbles uncertainly, and my eyes study him with livid curiosity. The dark hair framing his young face, with shining eyes. In his voice is a low emotion, creeping into each word that I can’t quite detect. Sadness? Anger? “You knew my father too… I… I didn’t…” Once again, as if on cue, his voice fades to nothing. “I wish I got the chance to know him, to meet him… To anything really. But it was too late, by the time I found out who my father was, it was too late.” Tick tick tick. Time passes as he sits crossed legged in front of me. My heart racing painfully in my chest, and I can’t stand still for a second longer. “Ya know, I still remember when it happened, I had crawled out of bed, mum wasn’t in her room… And I went racing down the stairs to the kitchen, there she was, holding the phone in one hand, and her face in the other. She had been crying, and… Then she told me everything. Huttser, my father, who he was, how they met. I’d never seen her cry before.”

My fingers tap along my frail rib cage, before my eyes dart up to his. Dark circles hanging underneath the frantic green of my iris’. Head cocking to the side, I whisper. “What does this have to do with anything.” Hearing my own voice makes me crack a smile, and I nod in agreement with myself. Whispering under my breath about how I knew the face, yet not the feeling.


“You have a chance with your father.” He states outright, his skin turning a darker shade around the cheeks of his face. I drop to my knees and crawl to the bars of my cell, to where he sat. My hands curl around the silver bars that send jolts of pain through my nerves and I smirk satisfied, not yet moving. “Or maybe it is… They march on Bridgeport tomorrow night, when the moon is full in the sky. And maybe they’ll come home-” His eyes turn watery as we stare at each other, almost at eye level. “- Maybe Luc’ll come home.”

“Maybe they won’t.” I mumble repeatedly, before giggling again, and biting into my soft lips. “Yeah, yeah, maybe they won’t. Or maybe…” Trembling, my fingers bouncing back and forth uncontrollably. You want them to die, don’t you..? “The full moon goes woof woof. Yes, yes. You see, boy, the woofers will go to the leaches, and blah! Maybe he’ll come home.”

“What’s wrong with you, Vivian!” A flash of violence crosses his eyes, as he stares into my soul, maybe he wanted to take it away. With him. And I curl my lips back and hiss at him, like it was a possession that one could take away. “Everyone keeps telling me that you’re still in there, fighting. I can see the doubt in their eyes as they lie about you. I remember when I met you back in Bridgeport, we were both younger then, more naive, but you were a fighter… For me… You got up in a room of those blood suckers, in front of Azazel, and those pathetic excuses for wolves, and argued for my safety. They could’ve killed you, and I swear that you didn’t even care. And now… It’s like you don’t even know who you are anymore.”


“Who I am?” I respond half confused, by both what it meant and who he was. Back in Bridgeport, their had been a boy, oh that was so long ago though. And the cold touch of winter lays on my cheek for just a moment and I sigh a deep breath almost painfully. And something pushes at the surface, bubbling underneath the thin line that blocked whatever out.

“I don’t even think you know anymore…” The boy whispers. His voice faint, and low, almost like he was talking to himself. And a small frown touches his face, the hairs of his brows drooping slightly. Somehow, I knew him… “And Lucian, and your father, and everyone in this town who can fight, are off to the blasted city and for what? We need to fight this war, yes, but do you think either of them would go in guns blazing if you had nothing to do with it?” T… Yes, T, it started with T, I’m sure. Good, let them die for you… But… I… I can’t… “Love truly is a cruel thing that they’d sacrifice their lives for nothing, because that’s what you are. Nothing. And Vladimir will feed well, because of you.”

With mention of his name, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge. Prickling up underneath my dirty, tangled knots. They all needed to suffer… Didn’t they. My eyes drop to the ground, as I twirl my fingers between each other in concentration. Except, Vlad would win, he always won. Pausing. “The hunter will claim his prize, then, won’t he?” But, I didn’t want him to. My brows push together in confusion. I hated Vladimir with every fiber of my being, and I wanted my father dead, surely it was a win-win situation either way. Deep down inside, there was a sense of forbidding. Almost resembling fear, almost resembling some form of humanity for them.

“Vivian, Lucian is going to that city, probably to die.” My head starts to spin and in my ears is a high pitched screech. “Vivian, wake up.” Except this time, even though his lips move, it is not his voice that I hear. And I think that I finally understand.

Momma… Wake up, save them, save him…




Lucian could feel his muscles quivering, strength radiated throughout his entire body, so much so, that he couldn’t contain it all within his human body. Within minutes, his nose and mouth draw away from his face, creating a beastly muzzle, with thick dark red fur tracing along his jaw line. Long claws edge his fingers, and deadly teeth hang down from his mouth as he growls his orders.

One by one, the lycans speed down the mountain, towards the low lying headquarters of the vampires that they hunted for tonight. Silently they descend, their paws moving noiselessly with each step. Their breath shallow and controlled. A few vampires guard the front entrance to the lot that it sits on. And members of the pack, with less than a growl from Lucian dispatch from the rest of the group and attack.

Through the silence of the night, loud, bloodcurdling screams erupt, even from the strongest looking vampire, large canine teeth sinking into his neck, claws tearing the flesh in his back. The creature loses it’s momentum with the force of the lycan’s attack, and soon, turns to ash, as it’s heart is torn from it’s body, enclosed around furry fingers. With the sounds of the carnage, reinforcement’s break from the front doors, welding both guns, with bullets encased in silver, and startled lycan’s fighting their own. And Lucian’s eyes smile as his own contingent break from the tree line and enter the building from the back, while their enemies are distracted.

Through the dark halls of the far entrance of the building, Lucian stalks quietly beside his small group of about four other wolves that were left at his side. He knew that time was running out, even though the advantage of surprise was on the side of the rebels, there were many dangers still to come. Vladimir, as their sources had stated, had grown mad as time had passed him by. His strongest men found their duties at his side, guarding and watching over him closely. Perhaps it was for his own safety, or for everyone else’s.


A group of men burst through doors, blindsiding Lucian, and his men. A vampire hisses, baring it’s teeth at him, a gun cocked and ready in on hand. The sound as the trigger is pulled is deafening, the sound echoing through the old walls. And Lucian lunges towards the creature, almost oblivious to the fact that it was too late. The bullet tears through the flesh in his abdomen, and burns painfully as he collides into the creature. His hand tearing through his chest, howls of pain erupting through his throat as the rest of his men fight back.

Rolling off the vampire as it turns to dust in front of him, Lucian’s hand encloses the wound as he whimpers. A strange metallic liquid oozing with the dark crimson blood and onto the cold floor. The silver burning through the broken bullet deep inside his gut, and infecting the flesh, agonizing him with every pump of his heart, like a searing hot blade pressing against his innards. Breathing heavily over the sounds of carnage surrounding him, his vision dances momentarily, and his only thought is that he needs to get it out before the skin heals over it. And with a hesitant thought, his fingers search for the foreign object.

Dropping the silver fragment to the floor, Lucian finds his feet. Wrapping a hand over the wound as if to soothe himself, his thoughts drift weakly to what else awaited him in this stone fortress. Fear seized his muscles as he stalked forward, curling his lips back in warning as both his men, and the enemies filled the halls with fighting. Would this place be their grave? or could good finally overpower the evil in the world, even just once? They were strong, and it seemed that everytime they killed one, two more would take his place. And it seemed impossible.


Signs of struggles filled the night. Cries of pain, and growls of disgust, gunshots cutting through the crisp air like a knife, and fear rippling through the very fabrics of everyone involved. Enemies and friends, fell side by side throughout the darkness and under the moon’s embrace. Warm blood staining the pavement, and soaking into the mud and grass. Ashes blowing away in the wind like dust.

The rebels were both well trained, and brave, with the moon at their side, they were impossibly strong, however, due to sheer numbers alone, were getting over powered. Vampire’s a hundred or so years old, and lycan’s fueled by blood lust, with only one goal in mind, kill, kill, kill. Making the way into Vladimir’s inner sanctum was almost tragic for Lucian more times than he could count, and with only his natural instincts to help his fight, and the ache in his stomach, more times than not, the danger he was in was due to being a fraction too slow, or overstretching the damaged muscles.

Terror caught in his throat as he breathed in the musty, metallic scents around him. Blood, he could almost taste it, the scent was the strong, and overwhelming. But Vladimir was close, and he followed the scent til he found the heavy wooden door, which he was sure that the old vampire lurked behind. Before the wolf could even stop the thoughts, Vivian was dancing through his mind. Lucian could see her crying on the floor, his arms wrapping tightly around her in comfort. The bruising on her skin, and the hysteria of her voice. Vivian had been scared because of him.

Vivian was gone, because of him.

And he’d tear his heart out, because of her…


The door crashes open, as Lucian stalks inside proudly, and as expected, his eyes lock in on his ultimate enemy. Vladimir was slumped against a large sofa at the back of the room, two girls, lay against each other, their skin pale, their blood drained. Blood drips down from his lips, and pale, ghostly skin. His blue eyes, filled with anger as he stares back, tinged with the slightest shade of red. Of blood.


“Ah, Lucian, Vivian’s mutt.” The vampire snarls, appearing in front of the young wolf, with glistening fangs and hollow eyes. Arrogance lathers the thick accent of the Russian born vampire. “Wrong door, I’d say, aye pup.” Smirking victoriously, as though the creature had won already. Growling in response, Lucian crouches in anticipation for any form of movement or danger. “But I knew you’d come. I always knew you’d come.”


And with the final word, Vladimir’s muscles spring to life, propelling him from his casual stance towards the lycan. Teeth glistening in the dim light, bared towards the jugular vein. Hands lift Lucian up high in the few seconds before he crashed into the ground with such force, that the wind was knock completely out of his lungs, and blood starts to spill from the gun shot hole in the boy’s abdomen.

With a loud hiss, Lucian tries to catch his breath, however, the vampire won’t allow it. Lifting his fist high above his head, Vladimir’s knuckles almost land against his jaw. Yet the lycan hadn’t given up yet, he had prepared himself for the brutal battle that awaited him. Catching the incoming fist, teeth sink down across the joint in his palm.

Seeing an opportunity to sway the momentum into his favor Lucian rolls Vladimir off of him, claws tearing into the immortal face, blood streaming off before he overpowers his attacker. Laughing as he does so, Vladimir uses his inhuman strength to send him flying off of him. “You think this’ll impress her, mutt? You think she’ll love you just cause I’m gone?” Stalking towards him, into the middle of the room, the tip of his boot drives into the large wound, sending screams of pain echoing around them.


Vladimir drops to his knees, his bloodied hands pushing Lucian down as he struggles to fight back, his fist pounding against his jaw. “I’ll take my time with you, because I want you to suffer. I want you to know that she’ll never choose you. That you’re weak, not strong enough to even try to win her back. You’re pathetic.”

Struggling for breath, Lucian can’t even see straight, the force of Vladimir’s fist dazes him completely. He can feel the blood pounding in his head, and his vision turns to white, and black again, yet still he struggles. Trying to lift his arms up to shield his face, he’s held down again. “Y… You t… Think she c.. Could ever love you if… Ff. You didn’t com… Compel her so.” Trying to speak, Lucian’s ribs ache, and despite his unnatural rate of healing, the damage he was sustaining wasn’t healing quick enough for what was happening to him.

“I will kill you for your insolence in time, my boy. But for now, you do not talk such lies about my wife-“

“She’s not your wife!” Lucian screams over him, the pain of it turning his insides to knots, and giving him enough adrenaline to fight back for even just a moment. Escaping from Vladimir’s clutches he pulls himself weakly to his feet. The Vivian that he knew, that he loved, she used to beautiful, and stronger than she was now. She deserved better than she thought, better than Vlad. Better than even him. “She doesn’t love you.”


“Those will be the last words, you’ll ever say!” Vladimir finally snaps, seeing red, he lunges at the infuriating man wolf, wrapping his fingers tightly around his neck. He didn’t even want to taste his blood, not now, before he had thought it fit revenge, yet now he wanted the last thing for the boy to ever see, to be him. To feel the helplessness of death.


And that’s what Lucian would take to the grave. Feeling his life slip away, he knew that he had failed her. That maybe Vladimir was right, and Vivian had been right all along stating that she could never love him. Death wasn’t the warm embrace at the end of a hard life, there wasn’t a light at the end of the tunnel, at least that’s how he felt in those moments. Pain, and loneliness, and debilitating shame had overcome him now, as his lungs demanded air. “Sh… She d… D… Does… S… Sn’t l. Love y… Y.. Y….”

God help us all he thought. His thoughts briefly turning to the carnage outside as his everything turned to silence. The sound of the door being opened, of footsteps and screams meant nothing anymore.

And then there was black…


Author’s notes

So sorry for the delay in this chapter >_< I’ve just been caught up in everything for the last week, and haven’t had time to finish this chapter up. I really need to get more organised 😛  

Aside from personal dramas. My family turned my birthday into like a three day affair, going to the beaches, dinners, and catching up with everyone. The new pokemon game came out a few days ago too. So I’ve been super busy. No excuse, but still. 

Anyway, I’m going to try my hardest to get the next chapter out soon.

Authors notes

So this chapter will be in third person, and I apologise if it seems a little jumpy :S A lot happens in this chapter, and I wanted to keep it all in the one chapter, instead of breaking it into two or three smaller chapters to showcase the events.


The midnight moon shone down lazily, lighting up the dark night with a ghostly silhouette. The cold embrace touching the earth, and trees, casting their nasty shadows across the plains, dark figurines casting a watchful eye over the forest. And all it’s inhabitants, and on that night, it seemed especially full. Packs of wolves, of about five to ten in each set ran noiselessly through the trees, and over the cold, mossy ground. If they were all to run in one large pack, there might have been seventy, led by a large red wolf, with definite hunger and power with each stride.


And throughout the packs, lay a deep consciousness, running and intertwining through each being in the group. Thoughts and images passing through their minds as they communicated their darkest thoughts. War… War was coming, and each wolf ran with the idea heavy upon their minds. Fear was evident, but even deeper than that, was pride and courage. And like men marching to war, the wolves thought of their families, and their pretty wives back at home nursing their children. The saw their mother’s eyes, and the vampire’s snarls. Blood, and death followed where the vampire went.

Lucian pauses for a moment, breathing in the cold air around him. Bridgeport. The air was already changing to the dreary North, and the temperature seemed to plummet from the hot and sticky south. And the pungent stench of blood and rotting carcasses was already beginning to turn his stomach. Ever since the day that Vivian had spoken for the rebels and herself in front of the president and cameras, things had changed here. Vladimir had stopped enforcing the rules of his precinct, and thus, his men had drowned themselves in the blood of the once lively town. Perhaps, it was his rule that they slowly kill the sky tall city.

Vivian… He thought solemnly of the last moments that he had shared with her. Of the girl speaking to some kind of invisible demons and turning hysterical. Whining softly, he gazes towards the moon. Thinking of his own fate in the dying city, and he wondered, how many of his kin and his pack could march this road back home. And he suddenly felt a terrible guilt and pain in his chest. But with the solemn duty of marching them to battle, he felt a strange stirring in him also.


At his side, his neighbors, his friends, men and woman he had never seen before were willing to fight at his side. They were willing to make a stand against the leeches, and together, in five nights time, when the moon had reached it’s full in the sky, they would unleash a fury upon the monsters who had tried to unleash hell in the mortal world. Vengeance burnt in his mind, for his father, who had died at the hands of them, and for Vivian, who still suffered, and for every single god damn person on this plane of life.

And it was that anger, that sent him spiraling down the mountain side, his pack breathing heavily as they exerted themselves with each hasty step. Being lycans, and inherently something more then wolf, something more than human, each hour brought Bridgeport closer, and under the cover of night, the ambush was being set. However, Lucian didn’t know if they would get caught before the city, and the battle would be over before it had even started. But with careful, methodical breaths, he scented the air around him and scanned his eyes across the shadows for a hidden trap.

His nerves were in his stomach as he buried them deep down inside of his belly. He didn’t need fear. He didn’t need to be afraid, least of all let his pack know that he was. Looking up to silent footsteps, the vampire with the deadly stare races beside him. Phineas’ ocean green eyes flicker across the grassy mountain side before turning to the wolf. “Can you feel it?”


Even though the wolf did not respond in human words, he lets loose a small whine in response. The full moon’s power was already reigning down on the lycan’s, and even the young vampire could feel it in his own blood. An ancient restlessness falling on his chest, and making him ache with hunger and strength. If they were dangerous any other day of the month, then they were fatal now. The pact with the moon and stars, and the unforgiving sun.

“Lucian…” Phineas whispers quietly, almost to himself. Reliving a memory of old, stained with tears and pure desperation that it hurt his chest. “They killed my family. The vampires. And I know we’re all going into this with ‘pure’ intentions, but they took my family away, and I’ll make them suffer for it.” Behind his eyes, blonde hair danced before him, with brilliant pink lips caressing his skin. A baby giggles softly in the shadow of his mind, and he grits his teeth together tightly. “If I see my chance, then I’ll take it. Just like we all will… We’ve all just cause for this fight, loss and suffering and vengeance, and if it does not blind out vision, then lets us harness it to reign down hell over all of them.”

As the cold voice fades to silence, the vampire looks out grimly on the passing trees and scenery. His thoughts lay in Ravenwood all those years before, in the arms of his wife, Rayne, and the hand of his daughter. Their brilliant smiles, and soft eyes. The date of his wedding and the nervous jitters that lay in the very depths of his core, that seemed to ease when his eyes fell on his blushing bride’s heavenly silhouette. Why were the human’s trying to ignore the fact that they were little lambs left to the wild wolf? And when they had tried to fight, they had lost more blood than they had taken. They were cowards, making him face a war that only stemmed from ideals of revenge and self destruction.


Towards the mountain pass, the brooding souls seem to travel, following the freezing winds, and ever present rain falling like a waterfall. Beware, the fog seemed to call, the mountains and the trees whispered in unison too, almost all of nature seemed to cry out together in one lonely howl, war is coming...


Aleksi walked down the ill fated path, over tree roots that had settled into the earth’s musty soil and grown like vines, weaving in and out over the forest floor. With each careful step, a deep ache settled in his throat and down his neck, reaching down his bronchial branches and fanning into his lungs like autumn leaves, falling to the very pits to be forgotten. When was the last time he had fed on the blood of the living?

Despite his vampirism, he thought as he pushed through the last of the trees into a delicate man made clearing, he had never enjoyed the thrill of the hunt. Never reveled in the power it gave to him. Aleksi was a man of science and conscience. Every number on the death toll was another soul to mourn to heavens gates. And looking at the wrath his kind had brought to this world, he didn’t believe such a thing could really exist.


Eyeing up the new wooden home spread out over half a dozen acres. Creamy embossed paint and a pool smelling distinctly of chlorine. A small, yet nervous smile creeps over the vampire’s face as the sun shines down unforgivably over the family giggling and splashing ahead of him, unaware of his presence. Armed guards stand nervously about the estate. Vampires couldn’t face the day, all vampires but himself. And they were at war.

Slowly, to not scare them and alert them to his unnatural state of being, he crosses the field and draws closer to the man who could spin the war in his favour. The president, Mr Cane. But before he could introduce himself, before he could name himself as friend, the guns were upon him.


Screaming and shouting, they ran from their posts, ordering Aleksi to raise his hands above his head or else… Cane senses his presence and orders his family inside. A young girl, grabbing her mothers hand as she’s pulled into the safety of her home. Could Vivian have been like that girl? Once scared and terrified of what she was deep down inside? Did she need someone to hold her hand and keep her safe? Now, they’re in biting distance, and he frowns sadly. The vampire, noting their raised heart beats as their orders turn to silence. His eyes reaching for the older man’s, and holding Canes gaze proudly, yet humbled.

“He’s a vampire!” They shriek, lifting their guns to his heart and enclosing him in a tight circle. A vampire, a day walker, Aleksi braces himself, such a wondrous, yet totally fearful sight indeed.


Nestled between large gaping valleys, with livestock bleating on the hillsides, and a winding river, shaped like a serpent, Appaloosa Plains sat. Through the town a wave of fear had settled, much like it had over the continent on which the vampire civil war seemed a plague to all with a human heart. Bars, and planks of wood barricaded the outside world from the insides of people’s homes. Now, even despite the last of the Summer sun, the townsfolk had become just as solitary and recluse as the vampires of old.

The world had definitely changed since the war had broke out, and now, people, ordinary people had rifles with bullets fashioned out of wood that sat against their sofas, and had melted down their precious silvers to long metal rods. And the south still stood, relatively untouched from such unnatural beings as the news termed them.

Far on the outskirts of town, where the river waters lapped at the sandy shore, stood a house. The unremarkable white paneling, and large barn, common to the area, lying inside the broken down fencing that lacked loving attention in recent years. But inside the barn was where the real scene was unfolding. Candles lit the way in the barn, furnished with odd pieces not seeming to quite match with the others.


“We have housed many a rebel in this very barn. Times are tough, many are injured, scared and afraid, and this place, it acts as a safe haven.” The woman with the dark crimson hair speaks, her voice is soft yet stern. And Becki immediately noted down that she was alpha here. “Once, this place used to be filled with the sound of horses and children screeching. I remember it well from my youth, but things have gotten worse in recent years, it’s getting harder to ignore it, when murder happens on the streets around us. The town is in a real panic now. It’s not half of what it used to be, and it hurts to think what everywhere else is like.”

“I apologize for the violence that my kind brings.” Baltezhar responds quietly, his eyes like daggers into theirs. Piercing their eyes in such a way, that the three lycans found their gazes on the floor. Shifting in his seat, his chest seems to tighten, and he wondered, as he often did, whether if he could have loved Elvira if this war would have happened at all. He knew it was the council’s own greed that caused it all to happen, but, maybe if her life had of been spared, then war could have at least been delayed. “Aleksi, his men march on Bridgeport.” The vampire states cutting straight to the point.


“And will he not do what all men do when it comes to war?” The woman whispers sadly, her head dropping as her voice does. In her mind she could see a vision of the past, of her father and a young girl, a horse with a chestnut coat, and she smiles, wishing that for a moment, they could all go back to the lives that they once lived. “There are many innocent men and women in that city, and more than half of them are being threatened with death to fight in this war. Shall they not have justice? Or when the battle ensues will every man have to fight their own battle, and only which side they stand on and not the reason serve to stand?”

“I do not appreciate that you would see my mate in such a light, Clary.” Becki growls calmly to the girl, who in a similar position to her, had to fight for the safety of her pack. And the young girl knew that by mentioning that their kind also marched would make them all think about this battle. “Lucian, son of Huttser and chief of Blackwater. He fights alongside the rebels, with the rebels. I wish that I could sit here and discuss every reason and need for this uprising, to all of you, I wish that I could. But war is here, and the South as you said, it is not the place that it used to be.”


“So what is it that you’re asking?” The man with the blonde hair pulled back with a tuft hanging down finally speaks. His hand slowly rubs the calf of his mate soothingly as he looks up at her with a soft look in his eyes. He could feel the familiar feeling that almost seemed to tug at his sense of justice and pride burst in his chest. The lycan wanted nothing more than to fight for his pack and to create a safe place to raise his children, free of war.

“The full moon…” Becki begins, feeling her heart in her chest as she begins. Knowing that how this pack chose could sway the ending of the battle in the city under the full moon. Knowing that if one pack stood with them, then the others would join, and perhaps it could save the life of just one of her own.