Crimson (Prequel; Divinity Crisis Triology)

Chapter Six: Last Death

          The dying screams of his family replayed endlessly in his thoughts, the cries, the begging, the pain, the gnashing of teeth and misery, they had exalted themselves higher than everything unnatural, they knew the power that was in their claws and the strength in their fangs, they took pride in their speed and honoured the glory of their senses; werewolves, witches, wendigoes and hundreds other powerful creatures tremble in their presence, they were the one of the oldest creatures, dating back thousands of years, and his family, one of the first of the vampires and their name only, inflicts fear in all, all who knew what things lurked in the dark.
But they had forgotten their own history, or maybe they chose to disregard it, the pain, the misery, the exile, the dark ages that their kind was forced to endure and persevere.
They were at the top, the most feared and respected, vampires all over the world had united and taken charge of the world, they lived not in the shadows, they never hid their nature and they feed like kings and queens. Other creatures were forced to look the other way. They commanded all, they took whatever they wanted and never cared to look down at the people, the creatures that they forced into role of a dirty and worthless scavenger.
Their mother was sister to the overlord, they were at the top of the of the food chain, they commanded armies of vampire, and when their uncle had won the war against humans, they turned to the others, the stronger beings.
She moved to East county as it was believed there was a wild settlement of supernatural beings in the county, and there she build a castle, one built on the corpses of wayward beings, ones ignorant and weak enough to cross her and her able army, she built the castle to cover a landmass so unimaginably wide, she built it at the southern outskirt of the town, by the river, and within its doors did her plot flourish.
First , she invaded the werewolves, the first pack, descendants of the first alphas, all members of the pack were werewolves by birth, pure and strong, they never took in a new blood, a new turn, and as they grew by this principle, their pack remained pure and the largest, the strongest – deadliest of all packs.
She annihilated them in two strikes.
And their legacy, lost to history.
Nought more was heard of the pack ever since.
Next she raided the witches, strong and crafty but the vampires, relentless and ruthless and that same night did she claim her victory.
All other lone factors did she take down mercilessly, it was the order of her brother, the king, his intension was to rid the world of creatures able to tear down his uprising, his empire.
And his plan was perfect.
But in the shadows, more distant than they where, more alive than they could believe, beings of divinity.
And only these beings could counter the vampire king.

          He staggered through the grassy boulevard that led of that elegant but hidden mansion, through the bushes the thorns, the sands; he was weary, he was bleeding, his eyes were weak and his steps were as warms. His lips, his nose, his face were bloody as were his sight, the moon seemed dead and the cold of the night pierced his skin with no hesitation, no remorse.
He staggered by a fountain of fresh waters, he fell on his knees, he dipped his palm into the flowing waters that travelled around the spring, he raised his palm with waters to wash the blood off his face, thereafter he drank a handful and gargled on it, he stood on his feet and staggered into the mansion through its tall and broad black door.


          Whilst the last vampire made his way through the bushes, Jerold brought a girl into his humble abode. He took her in, he wiped the dried blood from her skin, he showed her to the shower, the clothed her, he fed her, he nursed her.

          “What's your name” He had asked kneeling before her.
“Monique” She sobbed.
“Where are you parents”.
“The monsters, the monsters took them, they took everything”.
“Okay, okay Monique, It's all good now, it's all good... you're safe, you're safe here” He whispered to her ears.

          “What're you gonna do with her?” Hannah asked after he laid her down to rest.
“She's the new you... can stay how long she wants, I don't care”.
“You should better”. “ What're we to do now?” She asked seating to face him.
“We have the ultimate weapon, one able to kill a prince of hell... now we wait”. “What's that you're wearing?” He squinted, taking a closer look.
“What? Thought I'd dress like you mortals do” She replied immediately, moving her hands slowly down her body and then looking back at him “It's not bad is it?” She asked.
“Not bad, not bad at all, just never thought you were this...” He paused gazing endlessly at her, her new cloths, her body, her skin, a gentle wave of wind blew in his thoughts as his eyes locked itself in the lusciousness of her body, the little he saw only urged him to sought-after the unknown, the unseen, the covered, his eyes was as an endless ocean of desire, pouring its fullness on her; his eyes wide open, his mouth wide open.
He desired her more than he wanted to, he desired her more than he let himself believe, more than he could control, in his eyes, in his thoughts.
He could only imagine what pleasure was in the mix of her short skirt, red black, blue and lots other colours as stripes, that was much above her knees and it wavered around her legs, she also wore a light ash colour shirt, that was just above her belly button, with the two first button loosed and one at the end closed and on it she wore a jacket with hairy collar and a long brown farm boot.
“This?”, “This?”, “This!” She asked again a little louder as her first words seemed to fall at the walls of his thoughts.
“What? What? Never mind” He said after he had been snapped from his thoughts, from the fantasy world he created that very moment, with him and with her.
“You know, one thing I love about me, my nature and its perks is that I can see into your thoughts, at least when it pertains to me” She grinned at him distinctively.
“Ohh really psychic! what am I thinking now”.
“Fuck you too”.
“Stay out of my head”.
“That's hypocritical, why don't keep me out your head” She replied visibly displeased.
“What if I don't want to” He said as he stood from where he was seated, “What if you're all I can think of” He added pacing towards her a step at a time, “What If you are what I want” He continued slipping his hands round her waist as he compelled her to stretch to his height, “What if you are what I need” He whispered softly, his lips close to hers, so close it would touch but she would redraw and move in, causing him to draw more closer.
“You can't take on me” She replied, staring straight into his eyes and then pulling away fast.
He smiled, waltzing towards her as though he was drunk and unstable, as if his legs had become unable to carry his body, “Maybe I can; maybe you know I can” He grumbled on his way, “Maybe you try to hide it” He added immediately, with a devilish smile, one as a smoulder, “Maybe you actually want it, deep deep, deep down” He added, now just a breath away again, his hand rolling strands of hair that lingered around her eyes to the back of her hair, and the other round her waist. She tried to pull away, she wanted to pull away, but she was weakened by his piercing gaze, enthralled by his playful fingers, and charmed by his sedative smile. She was reluctant but still, yielding.
“Jer-old!” I voice roared, accompanied with a loud bang and shattering woods.
“Bad timing” He whispered moving away from her.
“Come and reap from whence you sow” The voice commanded, matching forward strongly.
“Well well well, a vampire dare raid my home, this         is not new” He smiled, walking slowly into the scene.
“Your death will be” He grumbled with a vengeful grin as he ran towards him.

          “Ohh, yeah, forget all that, just forget all that mojo and stuff, in here all your powers is shit, dog shit to be exact” He smiled after the vengeful raider had stopped his pace in shock. The speed he had intended in his thoughts and that which he did run was a lot different, he ran like a human, a mortal, like the weak ones.
“You're in my house now”.
These words stuck to his thoughts like a sharp arrow fired at an oak tree, he yearned for vengeance, for his mother, his brothers, for his family, his maniacal plan to beat that unfortunate hunter till he was bloody and just when he was about to die, just when his body can't take the pain or heal itself, then would he set him on fire to burn, to die in intense pain and misery, to die in regret, regret that he had ever come against his family; but now the plan he knew vanished like darkness at dawn, he knew the tables had turned, he knew he had strayed far from his domain, he knew they would fight by his rules, and he knew it won't be a fair battle.
He fought away the thought of running, just then, to sprint away into the night, to escape, to keep his head and live to fight again, and maybe the carefree nature Jerold had would restrain him from pursuit. He didn't, he chose not to, he believed only the fainthearted runs from battle, he wouldn't want his death to be one of cowardice and fear, he desired a glorious death, brave and in a battle, a battle against a worthy opponent, and worthy was Jerold.
He thought back to when they had conquered the natural and then the supernatural, when they ruled the world and did; lived as they pleased, when all feared them and the factions were reduced, were forced to look other way, forced into panic, living by the rules of their masters. He remembered the rebellious ages, the ages of wrath and vengeance, ages of war and revenge, it went down as the dark ages of the bloodthirsty beings, the ages when they were reduced from millions to hundreds of thousands and then to less than a thousands.
The ages of unholy alliances, alliances between sorcerers and werewolves, between humans and not, between Angels and demons.
And in these alliances was their downfall, their exile and annihilation. It unfolded in days, weeks, the princes of hell and the Archangels laid their wrath on them, through the four corners of the world, tore through their empire, turned their strengths against them and flourished in that that weakens them. They were slaughtered like dogs, eviscerated and their legacy wiped from the history books.
The little survivals were forced into panic and exile, forced to live in fear, in secrecy, as they were hunted for ages, and their ones renowned glory faded as ash in the wind.

          “Come on child! Let's war”
“No, this will not be war, no no no, this is just fun” he said jumping down from the higher ground, ignoring the flights of stairs and then down to whence he stood, “My fun”.

          “You are not a man, not man enough to war by strength and will, instead you raised demons to do your biding, you          are          a coward, a hypocrite” He cried, bleeding from his nose and lips, and from all his body, “You are an abomination” He added spitting on him.
“I raised no demon, I ran for my life” Jerold replied, bending to his injured and weak state, “Not as a weak man or a coward but as one who sees bravery from foolery” He said to his ears as though he shared his wisdom with him, “And you, old one, are a fool; and now you die not that once brave soldier, you die a weak man, a coward”.
“I am not and will never be a..” He was interrupted by a scream, a scream of terror and anger, one of a young girl, one of a scared girl.
“What is it Monique? tell me” Hannah urged suspiciously, walking closer to her as they stood in the upper room.
“He's the one, he killed my family, he bit my neck... he drank my blood!” She sobbed.
“This is the man?” He asked rhetorically, kicking his legs.
“Yes... he raped me”.
“Your fate is decided” She grumbled rushing down the stairs in raw and intense anger, “You die now”.
“They can't really d...” He paused as his lips fell wide open and his eye as her hands tore through his garment, pierced his chest and into his body, she waited, looking him deep into the soul, massaging his heart whilst he gasped for breath and begged for mercy.
“I heard you're a Viking” Jerold said with grin, kneeling beside Hannah who commanded his life that very moment, he knew his death was nigh and he grew to accept it but deep down prayed for mercy, and then there was no air in his lungs, his head was numb but his thoughts full, he gasped for breath but couldn't, he couldn't feel his own heartbeat and when he looked up, he saw his hearts, torn from within him, in her arms and in those delicate last seconds he saw his own heart in the hands of a foe, when he knew it was over, when he felt switches in his mind and body going off, he fell back and the lights faded slowly from his eyes, till there was darkness and sorrow as Jerold words accompanied him to life beyond.
“May you not be welcome into Valhalla.