VAMPIRUS

BLOOD DRIVEN

Blake's soul soared along the forest grounds, supernaturally gliding through trees and this foliage at a great rate of speed. He was searching earth's floor, closing in on the most dense of underbrush until he broke through the crust, pummeling effortlessly through the inner layers of soil, the heat and sulfuric stench from hell flooding his senses. The steaming vapor radiating from the intense heat bothered him little; his spirit continued its descent into the stark humidity of the atmosphere, past the lake of energetic flame and lucid lava then plunging through the tar and blackened rock of land peaking up through the steaming liquid of acid, finding himself diving even further into the dank confines of this inner, deeper hell: Tartaurus, the seat of agony and pain. It's then that he sees...

Nesdal. His sworn enemy.

Blake witnesses Nesdal suddenly levitating from the place he was painfully reclined on severely cracked pavement, bound by chains embedded into the concrete. Blake faintly detected chanting emanating from the land of the living which evidently empowered the elder vampire to escape his imprisonment. He followed Nesdal's ascent until he found himself in the basement of Nesdal's home where a hideously shrouded figure stood awaiting his presence. A book was opened in the mortals hands.

The Vampire Lore.

Blake detected another presence among them but the soul was cloaked, although Blake could discern the searing evil and the scathing hatred wafting from the mysterious individual. And yet...

He felt a certain familiarity with this strange fellow.

Blake concentrated with all his might on the dark wraith, yet he was prevented from piercing the shroud thickly obscuring the demon. Yet he probed further, focusing all of his telepathic abilities on the lone figure.

He stopped.

He knew who it was now. How could he have been so blind?

A sudden excruciating pain enveloped his senses like a raging fire, causing him to lose his supernatural concentration. Be blacked out, his mind holding on to a dying echo of a scream he recognized as coming from his beloved Broderick.