𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞 ~ 𝐺𝑎𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑙 𝑉𝑜𝑙𝑡𝑧

prologue

Ireland — August 1887

— Three months earlier —

The night was abysmally dark, as deep as the ocean floor. The starless sky seemed to refuse the slightest light, as if this place were too terrifying for beauty to manifest itself there. The wind howled with such fury that the trees bent under its force, threatening to uproot themselves at any moment. The old manor house, perched on the hill, was barely discernible through the darkness.

Its stones, a worn beige, appeared intermittently under the lightning that streaked the sky, briefly illuminating the landscape. During these fleeting moments, the village seemed bathed in the harsh light of day. The storm, raging, poured out all its fury, imbuing the air with a stifling oppression.

The village, huddled in the hollow of the valley, seemed abandoned. The few lanterns still lit fought against the darkness, but their pale glow could not pierce the mist. The shutters, shaken by the gusts, slammed violently against the facades, mingling with the rumblings of the storm. An icy rain fell relentlessly, transforming the alleys into muddy rivers.

From the shadows, a man emerged. He advanced with a measured step, punctuated by the regular sound of his cane hitting the ground. He slipped into the darkness, blending into it as if he were an extension of it. Thunder suddenly broke out and a lightning bolt streaked the sky, fleetingly illuminating the man's face, a thin scar crossing his cheek.

Then, a heartbreaking scream split the air, as icy as the rain that was redoubled in intensity. Silence returned immediately, heavy. The man quickened his pace, hurrying toward the hill. Halfway up, a second scream rang out, followed closely by a third, even more frightening.

His keen hearing picked up, above the din of the storm, muffled pleas, broken cries, and the eerie sound of lacerating flesh. Without hesitation, he pushed the door open with a sharp blow that smashed against the wall with a dull thud. He burst through the flash of lightning that briefly illuminated the scene. It was dripping with water that crashed onto the floorboards with an annoying sound. In front of the stairs, the body of a woman lay, her blond hair soaked with blood that flowed from the back of her skull. Her throat was gaping.

The man advanced, each step creaking on the wooden planks. His gaze fell on another body, that of a man slumped on the couch. He had the same wound on his throat. The stranger sighed, he had arrived too late. However, he stopped after an imperceptible movement caught his attention. The curtain in the living room moved slightly, betrayed by a breath. He looked down and saw two bare feet hidden behind the curtains.

He approached slowly and stopped just in front of the curtains, the flash that accompanied the rumble of thunder briefly revealed a shadow behind the fabric. He observed the slight movement with each breath, and reached out his hand. With a quick gesture, he pulled the curtain aside. His eyes widened, surprised by what he discovered. He lowered his cane, which he had instinctively raised to defend himself.

In front of him, two large golden eyes, filled with horror, stared at him. Their intense brilliance seemed to shine in the darkness. He quickly scanned the frail silhouette of the small figure huddled before him. His attention was then caught by a glint in the reflection of the window. The man jerked his cane, detaching the pommel to reveal a sharp dagger.

He turned just in time to face the creature responsible for the massacre. The vampire stood before him, its eyes glinting with hunger. Behind him, the small figure let out a slight sigh of fear. The man gave a wry smile.

"I’ll be a minute," he said.

He closed the curtains to block the teenager’s view and looked at the vampire. With a precise gesture, he threw his dagger which sank into the monster’s chest. The creature looked down at the blade and let out a sinister laugh, believing its victory assured. This brief moment of arrogance allowed the man to act. These creatures were always predictable. He concentrated, listening to the steady ticking of the clock and counting the seconds with visible amusement.

A minute and twenty-three seconds later, the vampire lay on the ground, his head resting next to him. The man calmly readjusted the collar of his shirt then put away his dagger. He turned back to the curtains and approached it slowly. The figure trembled behind the curtains, making the fabric quiver. With a fluid gesture, he pushed it back and smiled, revealing impeccable teeth. He held out a scarred hand in front of him.

"Well," he said in a calm voice. "What a night! My name is Gabriel Voltz and you... by all the miracles in the world, you are still alive."