Demon Daughter (Book I)

✤ Prologue (1) ✤

April 28, 1939

Red lightning bolts like whips slashed across the gloomy night sky and illuminated the huge stone fortress, which was normally drowned in terrifying, unwelcoming darkness. Its long-standing towers were mercilessly battered by gusts of wind and all-day rain. Midnight had just fallen, and the cold penetrated every corner, including the old-fashioned staircase that led to the deepest dungeons, where the smell of blood and the moans of tortured prisoners came from.

To an ordinary person, that fortress would seem sinister and frightening. It was surrounded by a high defensive wall and the only way in was through a drawbridge that was carefully preserved by guards. The prisoners had little hope of escape. They repeatedly tried to pass unnoticed, but the merciless guards didn’t hesitate to kill them, and the archers waited to fire their silent and lethal shot. Occasionally illuminated by lightning, their figures looked like armoured statues frozen in time, unaffected even by the strongest storms.

Ordinary people stood no chance of surviving against them, but those with special abilities were much harder to hold. To retain them in, the keepers had to spell the gates or build magical walls, but some prisoners still managed to break through. Sadly, only a few of them escaped...

Soon, one of the guards lowered the drawbridge and bowed to a man crossing. His heavy boots slowly left the bridge and stepped on the cobblestone pavement. The guards waited tensely, spears in hands, shields and swords at their sides. Seconds later, the man emerged from the darkness, revealing his vicious face. The rain had soaked his long purple cloak, and water was dripping on the slushy ground.

“Don’t let anyone through the gate,” the man ordered, pulling the hood off his head. “Haven’t you caught a prisoner yet?”

“No, but the situation is under control,” the guard replied, standing on the drawbridge. “He couldn’t escape from the Dark Kingdom because he was injured, Sir.”

“Let me know when you find him, but don’t do anything without me, got it?”

The man turned away and walked towards the fortress. The guards kept a close eye on him until he disappeared behind the gate. It was much cosier inside than it appeared. Bright torchlight illuminated the long, crimson-carpeted corridor. With his eyes focused on the door ahead, the man removed his cloak and walked silently and slowly. As he approached and pulled the doorknob, the door creaked open, revealing the view in front of him.

It was a huge spacious hall. Only a few candles flickered in the centre of a hefty oak table, making it too dark to see what was inside without squinting. Above one of those flames raised a face. A face of the master of this fortress. As always, so menacing, his palms raised over the candle, narrow red eyes focused as if seeing something that no one could. It briefly appeared that the master’s shape was slowly changing and two black snakes were writhing above his head, forming horns.

Some inexplicable force pulled the visitor closer. He stared at the frightening creature as if hypnotised and walked forward helplessly, but when the lightning crackled and the hall lit up, the strange sensation disappeared. The master sharply raised his head.

“Please pardon me for interrupting, my Lord,” the servant bowed, “but the prisoner escaped from the dungeon.”

Rising from the chair, the dark creature pulled his hands away from the flames. A spark of angry fire lit up his eyes. “And?”

“You know he’s one of the Specials,” the man said, attempting to show no emotion. “He certainly used his abilities to break through walls.”

“Have you used a spell on them?”

“Nigel broke the spell, my Lord,” the servant mumbled, his gaze fixed on the floor. “What should I do now?”

The master stepped forward and narrowed his eyes as he examined him from head to toe. That demoniac look went straight through him. “Where’s Mellburn?”