Hemlock Hunters

Prologue

Azera
Angelic, the kingdom of Angels
18.12.1875 - the dark war

It was hard to imagine this land was without its light.

But now here it was, submerged completely in darkness and death.

The once-glittery rooftops of Angelic were broken into ashen rubble, the gardens littered with bodies. The good souls of Angelic had vacated the land that homes them for hundreds upon thousand years. Fires lit the night with its eerie echo of destruction that took this place from her once thriving pearl adorned throat and had plunged her into a sea of blood.

The blood of her children.

The blood drinkers walked on her land now, sniffing for blood that had yet to go stale and rotten and if there was to a living angel, kill upon sight. And they did not hesitate to carry out the orders. Among them, prowled a beautiful woman with hair as black as the night, and skin as pale as the moon.

She was once an angel. She was once a wife. Once an esteemed member of the High Council of Angels. She once had it all.

And then she found love at its truest.

And that became her downfall.

Erana walked.

Erana walked the land of Angelic, seeking sustenance from the kind that once she belonged. But not anymore. Not since they betrayed her. She relished upon feeding from their sweet, pure blood, she smiled when it dripped down her chin. Her red eyes gleamed in the haunting lunar light. It was the only moment of joy in her life.

Walking through the broken bodies, she saw something that brought her to a stop. An Angel lay there, amongst other bodies. His arm was crooked, a slash on his abdomen dripping his lifeblood. His once beautiful face was struck in a grimace. His raven black hair was grimy with blood and dirt, his clothes soaked and torn.

Erana remembered him. And with her keen ears, she heard his dying beat of the heart.

She didn't quite know what made her do it, or why she did it. Maybe it was because Julian had not wronged her the way the others had. He had not been a part of her downfall. Like her, he was used by others for their gains. Maybe she felt a slight kinship to him, this young man dying in front of her.

So, she knelt on the cold grass, hoisted his body to her lap, and sank her teeth into his tender neck, she let a little of her venom seep into his body. For every drop of blood she took, she gave him a bit of life. And when she was done feeding, she laid him down on the grass, and brushed the hair off his forehead. The others vampires looked at her, their eyes questioning her actions but she had her gaze on the man she had fed from.

His wounds slowly closed, and the blood stopped running. He twitched.

Once.

Twice.

A tremor ran up his body, and he let out a guttural moan.

His eyes opened, red as a ruby. And then he screamed.

"Julian Roosevelt, welcome to the world of the immortality," she whispered.