Of Gods And Monsters Trials of Destiny

Prologue

Turning the corner sharply to the dark alleyway, hidden from the descending sun, the pale figure spun around staring at the dead end with defeat. He'd made a wrong turn. Footsteps echo down the brick corridor, and he twirled around afraid, but breathed a sigh of relief at seeing her face. "Rhea, I'm so glad it's you–"

"No time to celebrate Larikk," Rhea interrupted him, fear visible in her dark eyes as she turned to look down at the open gateway to people walking down the sidewalks of Edmonton and cars driving down the street. The sun hitting the city just right to throw shadows dancing across the landscape. "I lost them, but they'll catch my scent, hopefully we'll be gone by then."

"Not soon enough." A deep disembodied voice said.

The pair spun, shaking as they stared at the cloaked figures appearing from thin air at the end of the alley.

"It's them." Larikk said. Looking around for anything, relief washed over him at seeing the building to their left with a fire escape with the ladder luckily down. "Come on!" Racing towards it, Rhea ascended like a spider trying to escape a boot with Larikk following close behind. Neither of them daring to look at the pursuers. They didn't need to look to know they were after them.

"But wait, where's Demetrius?" Larikk asked, voice trembling, afraid to hear the answer.

Reaching the top of the roof, Rhea jumped over the side and stopped, watching the sun go down. Eyes burning, she choked, "They killed him." Larikk jumped over the side and stopped at hearing the words.

"Then we mustn't end up like him." Not waiting a second longer, he ran across the roof, and leapt over the side to the neighbouring building and rolled to his feet. Gravel flew across the roof as Rhea followed close behind him. "Are they behind us?"

"No way in hell am I looking back!" Rhea screamed as they raced across the roof, sticking to the darker parts to avoid the sun. As much as she fought looking back, from the corner of her eye, she caught black shadows darting across the adjacent buildings. Seeing them, fear gripped her heart.

A gust of wind blew across the tops of the buildings, wafting past Larikk and he spoke, "They're still following us."

"No sh–" A dagger soared, cutting the corners of her mouth. Spinning around and catching herself, she covered her mouth and waved off Larikk's concern. "Just keep going!" Whistling filled the almost empty air, and Rhea rolled forward as daggers stab a door to enter a building. Seeing the symbols on the hilts, a shiver ran down her body. Turning her head to watch her friend leap across the gap to another building, she lifts herself up and chases after him.

"We've got to make it to the others! Warn them about her and them!" Larikk said, sprinting faster, and the wind rushed through his thick black hair. Looking out the corner of his eye, he saw a few more join the chase and he cursed under his breath. Focusing forward, he came to a grinding halt at seeing one of the cloaked figures, face hidden by a hood, standing at the edge of the roof. As graceful as can be, he turned on the tips of his toes and ran the other direction, hoping Rhea followed suit. Not seeing the other building right away, it crawled up in to view as he got closer to the end, and he smiled. Leaping over the edge, he was so close to safety he could taste it.

One of the cloaked figures soared past Larikk, a long metal tooth gleamed in the light of the lowering sun, cutting across his waist. A choked noise escaped his throat followed by gurgling as blood poured from his mouth and spurted out across the building, windows, and the lower half of the building's fire escape as his torso and legs, separated from one another. Flopping down and banging against the metal stairs.

Stifling a scream, Rhea rushed to the edge of the building, and stared at Larikk's legs hanging over the railing, and his torso flat on the ground, neck broken, and face rotated around looking up at her. "Oh G–"

But the words burned in her throat.

"Unable to speak His name, Leech?" A deep, young disembodied voice said, cutting her off. The word filled with vile disdain.

Turning around, Rhea stared in fear at the figure in front of her. "Why don't you leave us alone!?" She screamed. Rattling filled her ears and she rolled to the side as something broke through the brick railing. Dust disappearing, she gazed at the gnashing teeth of a chain, and it retracted through the building, pulling at the bricks and letting a few fall to the alley below. Listening, she could hear some of the bricks squishing against soft and hard tissue–Larikk's body.

"Because you are filth upon this world. And filth should be burned and cleansed." The voice said again, no longer in view.

Rising to her feet she whirled to get away but bumped into him, smacking against what felt like a steel wall. Gasping, she snarled as fangs descended from her upper canines, but a hand whipped up and grabbed her by her hair and Rhea choked as a long silver dagger pierced her abdomen. Staring inside the hood, ice filled her veins at the sight of his piercing blue eyes, and thick silver hair.

Clutching the side of her head tightly, the figure freed the blade from her gut, embraced her almost like she was a loved one, and he stabbed the edge of the vampire's throat. With a violent twist, he pulled the dagger to the side, and her headless body dropped to the gravel, dampening the tiny rocks. Still holding her head, he released his grip and it fell to the ground with a squishing thud.

"Do we know what they were doing?" One of the cloaked figures asked, standing on a metal pole with a line of laundry drying in the cool spring air.

Staring down at the body of the permanently undead thing, he answered, "They were watching a house, oddly enough. They passed comment about a girl. I think this requires more attention."

"Doesn't it always Crux?" A woman asked, watching as blue flames engulfed his hand, and he pushed the flames down to the female vampire, burning her to ash.

"Is the other thing dealt with?" Crux asked. The female responded with a nod, "Then we take our leave and report back."

A gust of wind blew across the empty rooftop, picking up the ashes and sending them off to fly through the night sky. Leaving behind no trace of any violence.