Okay, here is the first part of Legacy of the Night. I don't own any of the League members. Oh, and also, I'm putting Sands of Time on hiatus due to the writer's block I've been having on that.
Well, without more delay, here's the prologue. Oh, one more thing. All the dialogue in this first chapter, even though it's written as English, they're speaking in French, since this is in Paris.
* * *
Legacy of the Night
* * *
Detective Gregoire took a deep breath, inhaling the dank, musky air that filled the streets.
He walked down the street, raising his head momentarily as he gazed at the night sky. The moon wasn't present, but there was more than enough light visible with the street lamps.
Removing the gun that was inside his coat, he inspected it, before opening the chamber to check and see if it was loaded. The last time he had been walking the streets in case of some crime it hadn't been loaded, and because of that he hadn't been able to stop the crook, when he shot him in the leg.
Truth be told, he was bored out of his mind. The past few weeks not many people would be seen walking outside at night, because of the murders.
It had all started three weeks earlier. A body had been discovered in an alley, a young woman, torn to pieces, almost as if it was some kind of animal. Gregoire didn't believe that, because there weren't any animals around that could have done what had happened to the woman…
He shuddered to himself, as the images of the body reappeared in his mind. What was even worse was that they hadn't even found all her body parts. He knew they had an incredibly sick and twisted killer on their hands.
The next body was discovered lying right out in the street, the stomach torn open and the road stained in blood.
But what really concerned people was the third victim.
They had been killed right inside their own home. The police had found the door ripped off the hinges, and the two inhabitants of the home ripped apart, their limbs scattered throughout the house. There was one survivor however…a six year old girl, who was taken into the police's custody, as they tried to get her to talk. So far they had been most unsuccessful, as whatever she saw had shattered her fragile sanity.
Gregoire trailed off in his thoughts as he heard yelling, followed by the sound of a gunshot. He smiled.
It looked like tonight wouldn't be so boring after all.
* * *
Henri Chasthel ran through the alley, ignoring the pain in his side, blood pouring from the slash mark and staining his white shirt.
Finally reaching the end of the alley, he stopped, leaning against the wall for support. Tossing aside his now empty pistol, he inspected the wound near his stomach. From the look of it, the cut wasn't deep, and it was still bleeding slightly, but not much. He would live.
Grimacing, he moved away from the wall. Looking to the left he saw the streets a bit ahead. If he could make it there, he could yell for help. After all, there had to be a policeman of some sort walking the streets. There always were these times of night.
And then he froze.
It had been so tiny, but he had heard it. A low growl.
Not wanting to turn around and see if it was right behind him, he bolted for the street, and behind him he heard the growl grow in volume as it became a loud snarl, followed by heavy sounding footsteps as whatever it was gave chase.
He was almost there, but he didn't make any signs of relief, as it was still following closely behind him.
* * *
Gregoire finally reached the corner of the street. Looking to the left he watched as a man in his early forties ran out of an alley nearby. As Gregoire moved closer he saw the condition of the man. He was bleeding in his side, his clothing was torn, and he looked like he had seen something from the depths of hell.
"HELP ME!" the man screamed as he stumbled out, looking around frantically before he saw Gregoire. He moved foreword.
"It's alright. I'm a police officer," Gregoire called back as he moved foreword. "What has happened?"
Henri opened his mouth to speak, before a full fledged roar cut through the night like a sword. Both men turned to the alley just as a giant shadow lunged out like a bat out of hell. Henri only had one second to scream before the shape plowed into him, knocking him to the ground.
Gregoire instantly ran foreword, drawing his gun and aiming at the shape. "Get away from him or I'll shoot!" he yelled out. When the warning was paid no heed, he pulled the trigger.
The sound of metal hitting metal filled his ears, and the shape turned.
And that was when the light from one of the street lamps fell upon it.
"Oh my god," Gregoire whispered in terror, his eyes staring into the pitch black eyes of what crouched next to the now mutilated body of Henri. Whatever it was, the thing was enormous. It raised its head, freshly spilt blood dripping from its jaws.
Gregoire instantly fired again and again. The thing titled its head to the side as the bullets bounced off its spiked skin, almost as if it was armor. Gregoire pulled the trigger again.
click
"Shit," he cursed under his breath. And that was when the thing lunged.
Quickly turning, Gregoire sprinted down the street as fast as his legs could carry him. He could hear the creature behind him, and it was slowly, but surely, getting closer with every passing second.
And then the worst possible thing that could have happened happened...Gregoire slipped.
He fell to the road, throwing his hands in front of his face to protect it. Quickly getting up on all fours he tried to scramble to his feet.
Then the pain hit him, a searing pain in his middle section as the creature lashed out, a clawed paw practically impaling his body.
The last thing he saw was a small bit of blood, that dripped from his mouth, and fell down to the street.
And then the fanged jaws came down around his head, before slamming shut like a bear trap, and crushing the detective's skull.
