Cynthia of the house of Brinflick was facing the fact that she was in hard times. It had been four hundred years since the dark lord Kain had surfaced in the land of Nosgoth. It was believed for the first few years that the undead creature would simply fall pray to the vampire hunters. But, by the hundred year anniversary of the organization of Kain's armies, they were celebrating in Coorhagen square on a stage of thousands of dead mortal bodies. Half of these bodies would rise up to be soulless suckers of blood. Since then almost all the major cities had been destroyed and the citizens either murdered or scattered all over the lands.
The Brinflick camp was one of the largest of these camps. Defying the vampires of their horrendous interpretations of humans as cattle. The Brinflick and others of the fleetingly small groups of human survivors attacked The vampires caravans during the day and often averaged four to six vampires each trip. Whilst the vampires often take ten times that number on just the human attacks, not counting the lone vampires that wandered into known human territory and took as they pleased or counting the recent all-out attacks on the humans.
But, what was a mortal to do?
Cynthia was in the schooling tent three hours before her family and home was slaughtered, learning the intricacies of math along with her other peers. All of which she knew well at the time. Mathew Willard, Rumored to be the last living descendant of the town Steinchincoe. Crelia Funior, who's great grandfather had escaped from a human 'storage dungeon', Lydia Lefual; who was new to the camp as was her mother after they escaped her family's fate of slaughter and soul stealing. Death was not a new thing to the camp. Not a new thing at all.
"Lydia! That's four bobbles, not three." The teacher Emelia Rineos Lefual sneered at her daughter. Who was anything but the teachers pet, if she knew what was good for her.
"Yes mother." She replied .Quickly rectifying her mistake. Cynthia paid little attention to this drama.
"Teacher, may I relieve myself?" Willard asked.
Rineos Sneered once more. "Yes dear, you may. But be less descriptive and ask if you may be excused." "Yes ma'am." He said and walked out of the tent for the last time.
The room was silent once again save for the soft clicking sound of the counting bobbles against each other and the quite murmur of the calculating student. The majority of the class was ten to fourteen year old with education's that were usually far below the former standard classes of old. Cynthia was special in that she was 16 and far above the usual capacity of intelligence. She about to become a great deal more special.
"
Class, dismissed." The teacher indifferently exclaimed. waving the students off with an almost uncaring turning of the wrist. The students rose saying in a loud whisper of unison "yes, ma'am." Being excused from a class brought no joy to the children in this world, nothing did it seemed.
It was dark outside, Cynthia realized, almost immediately wiping the soot from her dress. it always seemed to be dark for the last couple of weeks. A thick layer of smoke was being constantly belched from factories deep inside the vampire territory. Rumor was that the vampires were running the factories solely for the purpose of blocking out the sun. The adults however, assured Cynthia that this was a ridiculous assumption.
Adult, Cynthia chuckled. She was after all, sixteen. Well, far from the childhood of her other class mates and surely at her intellectual peak never minding her senior's request that she be more modest. There would be other things to learn, no doubt. But, she already knew the basics. Kill vampires with sharp stakes and holy water. Hunt in the day for food, never wander during night and....
The scream that changed Cynthia's life belonged toWillard, as did the blood that sprayed on Lydia from behind a nearby tree, Lydia screamed, a picture of womanly vanity marred by war. Cynthia took the small vial of water she kept in her blouse and ran to Lydia who continued to scream potrusively. Let your aim be true. She told herself, for your soul's sake. When Cynthia saw the vampire, she nearly lost her nerve. It was bald, covered in Willard's blood and sneering like the demon from hell that it was, at little Lydia. Willard lay at it's feet, almost an unrecognizable pile of flesh and blood. The vampire turned toward Cynthia's direction saw her and smiled ignoring Lydia for the time being. Cynthia's blood ran cold.
It'll run all over the ground for surely if you don't get your act together. Cynthia balled up her fist and threw the vial.
The vampire caught it in his hand, more or less. It broke and splattered all over it's pale flesh, the palm became a pool of red. The vampire screamed horribly as it clenched it's disintegrating hand.
"Damn wench!!" It screamed. "You shall pay for this with your sweet blood." The abomination rushed at Cynthia quite literally walking over Lydia. Cynthia could hear her bones crunch under the things heavy black boots. Now that it stepped out of the shadowy woods, Cynthia could see that it was far taller then 8 feet and was dressed in what looked like a black mockery of a preachers robe. Cynthia, knew it was worthless to run so she settled for Lydia's approach and screamed. "Damn screaming wench!" The vampire cried again. "Kain forever!"
"Kain dead!" The voice of Cynthia's father cried and an arrow sailed through the air to nest it's self in the vampires ear and poke out the other like some obscene jester's trick. "AAAARGH!" it yelled tugging the arrow out with one swift ripping movement of it's talon-like arms. It look to it's left and Cynthia ran before her father could even shout at her to do so. She never saw the outcome, but she felt she knew already her fathers fate. Shame was a strong thing. But even the strongest among us at so young an age cannot deny fear.
She ran back to the school tent and turned back almost immediately fighting back both the tears and the revulsion. In front of the school tent were three vampires, crouching over the remains of Rhinoa. The one holding her head turned and saw Cynthia just as she disappeared into the forest. He looked to his companion. "You see that?" He asked.
His companion frowned at him in between gulps of the blood flowing into his mouth through thin air from the corpse. "I didn't have to." He replied. "Go head. I'll find another one."
" Be careful." said the vampire, dropping the decapitated skull to the ground, his companion gave a mocking laugh and then the other began a transformation that was so mundane to the vampire yet so horrifying to the humans. He then ran toward Cynthia, following her scent.
Cynthia didn't have to get but fifteen feet from the main tents to know that the forest around them was ablaze with fire. her cloths were singeing from the heat and the skin on her face seemed to be roasting. The woods were barely perceptible in broad date day light by themselves and the smoke helped none. Cynthia couldn't see save for the bright flame, if she should walk into this wall of flame before she gained her ability to judge distance again. Well, that was fate.
And as fate would have it she broke into the clearing where once there was no clearing. The ground was soft and brown in front of her and filled with holes. The vampire must have planned, she thought briefly. Dug deep into the ground beneath the warning guards and risen up for the slaughter. The possibility of casualties would be less severe that way. They knew where we were all this time, letting us be only while they planned for our demise. How they must play with us.
Cynthia was suddenly robbed of her thought when she was sprayed in blood and various parts of the human anatomy. The vampires had pulled all the trees out, displaying all the huts and tents for all the stars of the sky to see. It almost looked like an actual village now. Save for the vampires setting them ablaze and killing anything that dared breath. Blood and bodies littered the soil.
"NO!" Cynthia screamed, pulling out her silver dagger. They were dead, all of them, she was the last. No doubt she was the last and what casualties did they have to show for it. Nothing, save for a miserable nosferatus hand, which would no doubt grow back within a week, a week, ha! More like seconds. She would have to do something about that. She approached the nearest vampire, screaming. The vampire appeared to be a man slightly older then Cynthia. skin pale with hair black as a coma. Unlike the others this one had an ornate cloth hanging from one shoulder baring the insignia of the vampire Raziel. The vampire around him seemed to be chuckling and laughing at this pitiful effort of retribution and revenge. The vampire himself displayed an air of indifferent readiness.
Something pounced on Cynthia from the back with furry paws and razor claws that dug deep into her shoulder to poke out in her chest. Cynthia's screams of rage turned to pain, yet she held fast to her dagger. She went down and stabbed the knife into the soft dirt much as the vampire wolf had dug into her shoulders with its claws. For a moment, it all went dark then white with pain.
It's over, she thought, over. Despite her opinion, her reflexes thought otherwise. She brought her dagger up and with one swift movement whirled it over in her hand and stabbed it into the meaty forearm of the wolf and twisted. Reaction was almost instantaneous.
The thing brought it's claws up from Cynthia's shoulders, ripping its wound even wider until it seemed almost the entire bunch of muscles dangled from it. It howled in agony and began staggering around the burning landscape.
Good, She thought. Now get up and kill that bloodsucking bastard that killed everything you know. She did as fast as her wounds would allow, which was less then swift. She looked forward to see that her first targets were still standing before her. Some still held mirthful smiles on their pallid mugs, visibly amused. Others seemed enraged at her terrible aggression. The one in the middle. Who seemed to be a commander of some kind, remained stoic (The vampire Raziel himself? surely not) . behind her the howls were turning into screams of rage. If she was quick enough, she could shove the blade into its heart while it was still morphing.
She stood and staggered around to face her attacker. Indeed, he was in mid-change. His face losing it's snout and profuse hair. His cloths seemingly were materializing out of no where. Cynthia gripped her dagger in both hands and raised it over her head. ignoring the screaming wound in her shoulder and emitting a war cry that all her future compatriots would later remark, rivaled the call of a thousand demons. She rushed forward and was pleased to see a look of pure horror in the helpless vampire as his immortality was threatened.
A golden blade cut through Cynthia's legs like butter at the knees and they toppled to the ground. But it was too late. As she went down, the blade went through the vampires over-shirt at a downward angle straight into its heart. First blood came from the wound. then it a cloudy black iqor that rivaled darkness itself. Cynthia looked straight into the creatures eyes for a moment, then spit in its face as she let go of the knife. Dropping to the ground. The vampire staggered backward screaming for a few seconds then its legs exploded in an orange flash, followed by its torso and chest and so forth. The dagger flew out of it's purchase and found another one inches from Cynthia's face in the ground.
To bad it didn't land in my throat. She thought. It would have been the perfect end to a hell of a day. She pushed herself upward with her palms and arched her neck to look at her assailants in a strange panorama around her. The Commander was standing to her left and holding the golden blade, it's squared edge dripping with her own blood. The vampire glowered at her and she could see through her light-headedness that the others had similarly lost their amused demeanor. She however, gave them a cheerful smile. She would kill them all if she could, But this was not to be. But she had killed one. Which were more then some of the fiercest human warriors could say.
"I hope you choke on my blood." She croaked as the world began to fade. They began to growl and ball up their fist. She was about to ready her available saliva to spit on one of then when the golden blade swiped just under her chin and lobbed her head off with a cleanness that was matched only by the flesh of a vampire.
For a moment, her body sat erect like a sphinx, her neck spouting with blood. Then she collapsed on the ground in a jumbled heap. She was dead.
"Wench killed Jasper." Cooper sneered, looking to Raziel "God, what a waste." Raziel only grimaced at the girl. he hadn't cared for Jasper. He'd been a stupid one anyway. What Raziel cared about was the dead, discombobulated girl lying in pieces on the ground. Some of her blood stained his robe, he opened his mouth and the blood floated into it. He let the sweat life necessity flow down his throat. He was surprised, it didn't really taste tainted at all. Whatever this girl's lineage was, it was pure.
Raziel looked up at his companions and sneered at their impatient pale faces which seemed to be urging him to let them go back. " Regail, you and Cooper take the East Side of the forest." he ordered, not moving from his spot. " Snerik, You and Bach take the west and look for survivors, come back at dawn. No earlier" the underlings irked at this and Bach, always a hot head looked on the verge of jumping him. Not that he would. Bach wasn't stupid
"Go! damn your eyes." Raziel yelled and at this first sight of temper the group was off. Some flying away as a dreaded night creature or scurrying off as furry four legged demons that some poor fools mistake for bats or wolves. As Bach flew over-head Raziel snatched him out of the air and flung him onto a nearby rock were he bounced off to land on the girl, prompting a loud screech from the creature as it squirmed and writhed on the corpse. The creature all the while seemed to unfold into a more human form , until Bach was fully whole and sneering up at his master.
Raziel stood stoic through all this, he pointed at the body, then pointed with the other hand to the girl's head. Which had caught fire by this time. "Take her." He said "her blood is pure and she fought well, despite her deed."
Bach growled at this and protested " You think to give an enemy forever and expect it to bow before you! Surely you jest lord Raziel! Surely!" Bach began to stand but a hard pale hand swiped at his skull like a blade, had Bach been human, he would have been torn of the same appendage as the girl he fell back onto.
"You know not to question me." Raziel casually remarked as he reached for his belt. "Now do it and give her body to the wall builders." He crushed something in his hand and without anymore do warning the creature that had once been a prince before his 'father' revoked the title to make him lieutenant; vanished into a cloud of mist that floated into the forest. One by one the other vampires followed taking whatever booty they wished. Some dragged along dead girls that they would turn to make their brides, while others took weapons of grandeur found gripped in some mortals dead hands. Bach continued to sit on the dead girl until the only thing that surrounded him were the burning woods, he beckoned the skull, which by now was almost completely burnt to the bone. Still the remaining blood in it was still potent enough to make it careen through the air into his hands. Bach sneered at the skull as he bit into his tongue and let the blood drip into the gaping jaws. He chanted ancient words he knew only from his corrupt heart and plunged his hand into the corpse's chest, bring out her heart and raising it over his head then dropping it into his mouth. The burning fire seemed to be dulling suddenly and Bach had the feeling of being sucked into a large black hole in his soul. A feeling he had only experienced three time before when as a foolish new-born ( Though being turned could hardly be described as being born, more like dying a hundred times over.) He had turned his mother, father and sister. Both parents went almost completely insane while his sister had tried to kill him. Bach hadn't tried it since. He tried now.
Suddenly the darkness took shape....
To become a strange black rock that she was hanging over by mer inches. Her hands were bound with chains over her head and the chains ascended into the above blackness with no viewable purchase. Though Cynthia guessed that it was connected to the pillar a few yards away that was doing like wise with the chain. She was wearing her school dress as usual, but it was ripped to tatters and seemed almost singed to ashes and her feet were bare. The rock was surrounded by red hot brimstone that scorched it into blackness. Cynthia couldn't remember how she got here, though she guessed the vampires had knocked her unconscious and had dragged her here to be interrogated. But she didn't feel that was quite right. The fact was, nothing seemed right. Her body seemed to be enveloped with a burning sting and she winced at its pain, though she did not scream, for if this was an interrogation, that would make it even worse.
But deep down inside her. she knew this was no interrogation. Deep down inside, she knew this was something worse.
Far worse.
She tried squirming her wrist to get out of the shackles but they almost seemed grafted to her skin. She bobbed up and down , but the chain was firmly attached to whatever it was that loomed above her, then she felt around the shackles for a lock that she might be able to pick some how. But she felt none. All this while the pain seemed to increase. Finally she went limp and began to sob, only she could not feel any wetness fall from her eyes. the feeling that something was desperately hopelessly wrong keep eating away from her, To make things worse, she couldn't tell what that damned pain was. It was unbearable and she couldn't stop it. "Oh God!" She screamed "Oh God Oh God, Please help me! Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!"
"No, No God, No God." A voice answered, echoing into and out of the darkness. Cynthia tightened whirling around on her chain to survey the emptiness to only see more darkness. She was not alone, she readied her legs to grab at whatever tried to approach her. Though if it was a vampire she might as well be trying to strangle yonder pillar.
"No God, No God, No God for you my lady." The voice erupted in cackles and from its strange empty quality Cynthia demised that it defiantly wasn't human. Still, if it wished to take her life, it would have to earn it. Cynthia began to scream.
"Come on out you bastard! Come and take me if you can!" The creature responded with even more hysterical cackling and Cynthia began to prepare a vile amount of phlegm in her mouth for when she should greet this new nemesis of hers.
Only she couldn't feel any phlegm in her mouth, her pallet seemed as dry as a desert and horribly rough. Cynthia growled in anger at this. surely this monster had put some terrible spell on her, no doubt to make her desperate with thirst and hunger till she gave out some vital bit of information that they needed. though she had never heard of such a spell. But if not a spell then what...
It became clear, and Cynthia could feel her unbeating heart freeze. "No..." She murmured "No!No! No! Leave me die in peace you bastard!"
The voice answered and Cynthia could somehow feel it sneering. "If it had been up to me 'Madam' I would have gladly done so and left you to your powerless god" It chuckled and a figure materialized in front of Cynthia, she tried to hold in the scream, but to no advail. She suddenly remembered everything. They hadn't knocked her on conscious, and they weren't interrogating her. They were damning her as they were damned. Cursed to walk the earth forever in hell, with only killing to sustain her. In the demons hand he held a severed head with a collar around its neck, nearly burnt to an unrecognizable ball of ash. He passed his hand over it and it suddenly turned a truly ashen white bone, then to flesh, then it sprouted sandy red hair that was far straighter then anything Cynthia had ever been able to manage. The flesh clear and white and yet so rotted and vile. Take a good look, she told herself. Because your never to see that face in a mirror staring back at you again.
"Cynthia shook her head and saw to her horror that the thing in the creatures hand was doing like wise as he floated toward her. "Please" She pleaded "Please don't do this thing, please." It mimed her words with its mouth and Cynthia felt her stomach churn.
The abomination called Bach, sneered at the dead mortal called Cynthia. "Take it and quit your damned groveling, you'll be doing enough of that when your turned." He held out the skull eye to eye with Cynthia and she tried to turn away from it.
Its eyes flung open and they were her eyes, in that she could see through them but they were not really hers in truth. They were cats eyes, orange and menacing. It opened its mouth in a leering fanged grin. "Join me." It said.
Cynthia screamed with her own voice for the last time.