Demon Daughter (Book I)

0.1 | Prologue

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, even where the old-fashioned staircase 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 you could only enter through a drawbridge vigilantly preserved by guards. The prisoners had little hope of escape. They repeatedly tried to pass unnoticed, but the ruthless guards didn’t hesitate to kill them, and the archers waited to shoot them with their silent and lethal shot. Their figures, occasionally illuminated by lightning, looked like armoured statues frozen in time, unaffected even by the strongest storms.

You stood no chance of survival against them, but people with special abilities were much harder to hold. To keep them in, you had to spell the gates or build magical walls, but some still managed to break through. Sadly, there were only a few who escaped...

Soon, one of the guards lowered the drawbridge and bowed to a man walking across. His heavy boots slowly stepped off the bridge onto the cobblestone road. The guards waited tensely, spears in hands, shields and swords at their sides. Seconds later, the man emerged from the darkness and revealed 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 said, 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 watched him intently until he disappeared behind the gate. Inside, it was much cosier than it looked. The long corridor, carpeted in crimson, was illuminated by bright torchlight. The man took off his cloak and walked leisurely without making a sound, his eyes fixed on the door in front. As he approached and pulled the handle, the door creaked open, revealing the view in front of him.

It was a huge spacious hall. You had to squint your eyes to see what was inside, because it was too dark, with only a few candles flickering in the middle of a heavy oak table. Above one of all those flames raised a face. A face of the master of this fortress. As always, so grave, his palms raised over the candle, narrow red eyes focused as if he could see something there. For a moment it seemed that the master’s shape was slowly changing and two black snakes were writhing above his head, forming horns.

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

“Forgive me for intruding, my Lord.” The servant bowed. “The prisoner escaped from the dungeon.”

The dark creature pulled his hands away from the flames, rising from the chair. An angry fire flashed in his eyes.