Beyond The Fangs

Prologue

IZEL

Two races, both at the brink of extinction were at war, and we were losing. We were outnumbered, overpowered, and easier to kill. It wasn't fair, they were faster than us, fitter than us, we were just no match for them. 

Well, most of us weren't a match for them. Me excluded.

I was a Vanquisher, and not just any Vanquisher, I was one of the best. Don't take my word for it, I'm just repeating what I've been told multiple times.

"Izel is one of the best Vanquishers in Lilliville," was what they always said.

"So young yet so fierce," was another common one.

Vanquishers were warriors, trained to fight off the heartless bloodsucking critters known as vampires. We killed them to avoid extinction but they killed us for no reason but to get rid of our kind. Vanquishers were the ones Lilliville—and all the other villages—relied on for protection. The villagers were like sheep, Vanquishers were like the shepherds and the vampires were like the wolves. If it weren't for Vanquishers, humans would already be extinct.

I started training to become a Vanquisher at the age of eight—which was five years earlier than people usually started training—and that was because I lost my parents at that age. Both of them. There was a massive ambush late at night, and we weren't prepared for it. Half of the people of Lilliville died, including my parents.

My hatred and resentment for vampires stemmed from that loss, and I realised that I didn't want to rely on anyone to protect me. I wanted to protect myself. So I trained to the point where I was confident I could do just that. I trained, and trained, and trained until I couldn't train anymore. Until I needed an outlet for all the hatred growing in me. So, at the age of thirteen, I did the dumbest thing I could ever do. I ran away. 

I had no location in mind, no plan, no nothing. All I knew was that I wanted to kill a vampire. I needed revenge for what they took from me, and somehow, I succeeded in doing that. I found a vampire—well, more like it found me and it attacked me. I barely managed to defend myself. 

The vampire had yellow lining its irises, meaning it was a regular Vamp, but it was still ten times faster than me and it had much more endurance than I did. Vampires had some restorative ability, so any injury I managed to inflict only healed within seconds which only made things harder for me. No matter how many times I stabbed it, it didn't matter because it would just heal once the sword was out of its body. And that wasn't even the worst part about fighting a vampire. It was that a vampire could only die in three ways: a stab through the heart, through the brain, or decapitation. 

A human, however, could die in several ways.

I was uncontrollably panting by the time I finally managed to pierce my sword through its heart. I slumped against a tree, panting still, but my lips curved in satisfaction. I had done it. I had killed a vampire. Sure, I almost lost my life doing it but still. 

Once I was sure I could stand without collapsing, I rose to my feet, sheathing my weapons. The rational side of me—which was a very small side—told me to turn back, to go back to Lilliville and tell of my great adventure and victory. The irrational side, however, which was pumped with adrenaline, dripping with revenge and much bigger than the rational side, told me to keep going, so I did. 

All I had to do was keep walking and the vampires would find me like the first one did. After several unfruitful hours, I decided to turn back, convinced that the vampires were afraid of me and had gone into hiding. That was until I heard the screams.

My body stiffened upon hearing them, but then, like the irrational and unwise person I was, I began walking towards the screams. Only when I saw the source of the screams did I stop, eyes wide. I knew that this was one of the many things that would haunt me for the rest of my life.