Prolouge March 21, 1972
Washington DC, United States of America
The rain fell hard in Connecticut Avenue of Washington DC, but the man on the roof of the building took no heed. He waited, waited for his prey. A black suburban parked by the building, just as he knew it would, and a pale figure, dressed in black stepped out of the passenger door. His hand came down on the crucifix he kept in a hidden sheath, it was almost time.
The man's name was Victor Nasaraf, on his records; it said he was a Museum Curator, but what the government didn't know, was that this particular individual was 276 years old, and a Vampire. Victor couldn't sense the man sneaking up behind him, but he felt the stake drive through his heart. There was no blood, or screaming, or dramatic death scene, he just shriveled up and died.
The plan went almost perfectly, except; he had forgotten to check for any body guards. There were two, both held Glocks and had them pointed at him. He jumped to the right, strait into an alley way, and dodged the bullets. But the chase was now on, past trash cans, and dumpsters, he heard a shpt ring out.
It hit him perfectly in the center of the leg. He was having trouble running, but he knew his destination. Washington DC was the perfect haven for monsters and slayers. Many of the shops that sold specialty weapons were owned by people aligned with nobody, and commonly supplied both sides of a conflict. However, the shop the man was headed for was different.
Another shot hit his ankle, and one grazed his skull, but he kept running, he knew his mission. The shop entrance was just ahead, he had on hand on the handle when a bullet smacked into his shoulder, spinning him around. The last thing he saw before he died was the letter he had clutched in his hand.
Hoped you liked the first chapter, please read and review. Sorry its so short, but its only a preview.
