A/N: Hello, my lovelies! I am back, and I'm burning with new inspiration! This story will a bit OOC for a bit, but as the story goes on you will recognize the characters as they should be. You will instantly notice that i have given Chloe a drier sense of humor, trust me i know what I'm doing. As you know school work always come first for me, I've been having a lot of free time lately though and have written many chapters for this story in advance, so this I am determined to finish! Anyways, you all know the drill;
I DO NOT OWN THE DARKEST POWERS!
Prologue:
Life can be a Bitch.
As a 17 year old Necromancer slash demon killer, I would know. Now, I know what you're thinking! Demon killer? Really? Yes. When you come from a long family line of freaks like I do, you learn a few tricks or two. The hard truth of it is that I come from the strongest and most powerful of the Necromancer lines, known to the Supernatural world. Beautiful, isn't it? I live the world renowned Goth-child's dream, each and everyday. Full of ghosts, demons, reappearing images of both terrible and wonderful scenes in people's lives, and my favorite: dead things rising. That's right, I'm a zombie queen. You're jealous I can tell.
However, as glamorous as my life sounds, it's a pretty messy job. First of all dead things in general are just…filthy. So when you accidentally raise them in your sleep, (hey it happens what can I say? I enjoy watching me some "The Walking Dead" before I hit the hay at night and it gets to me sometimes) you tend to get dirt everywhere. You should have seen my Aunt Lauren's face that night when she got off the late shift at the Hospital, not washing the dishes wasn't the only thing I was getting grounded for. Which I suppose brings me to my current point. I am a 17 year old, technically called a "Demon slayer" according to the Supernatural Board, the most powerful Necromancer known to the modern world, supernatural royalty to some, and I am here, stuck in on a Friday night. All because I might have sort of summoned a zombie, in my sleep mind you, and he got up on the living room couch and stained the carpet brown with his decaying slime. I mean please, someone needs to get her priorities straight around here…
Chapter 1
The first thing every good supernatural newbie needs to know is that humans can be the biggest scariest things in the world, they're your biggest threat. I've faced crazy psychotic ghosts, demi-demons, actual demons, vampires, cranky-ass werewolves, sorcerers, and nasty-tempered witches, and absolutely none of them have ever scared me like my Aunt Lauren can. She is as dully human and un-powerful as it gets, and I'd rather get my hair singed off by a fire half-demon then fight with her. Sadly though that's exactly what we were doing, I was moping childishly in my room and she was fuming. Making crashing sounds everywhere she went, purposefully having a tantrum as she continued to clean up after my "incident." Why do adults always want to call your screw-ups "incidents?" Anyways, I was feeling pretty damn low. Than like a personal beacon from God above, I heard the shrill ringing of our phone down stairs. It was 1:24 in the morning, a phone call this late could only mean one of three things; someone was dead, a neighbor thought my aunt was murdering me from all the crashing around, or the Supernatural Board leader Andrew was calling! Something deep and dark with in me was secretly hoping that it was a neighbor.
"Hello?" My Aunt answered civilly with only a hint of exhaustion. It always amazed me how most adults could be screaming their head off one moment, then pick up a phone in the next, and sound perfectly pleasant. Then I grew older and noticed it just had to be a woman thing. "Andrew? What are you talking about, slow down I can't understand you, why do you need- Andrew!" Her voice suddenly became panicked and despite my current feud with her I sped down the stairs on instinct. "Andrew! Andrew! Answer me, Andrew!" She looked up at me as I entered the room swiftly.
"What's going on?" I asked soothingly, seeing that she was ready to freak out. I came to her side offering a hand for support.
"H-he called, Andrew did, he was babbling about having thought there was more time…T-then he told me to send you after them, that only you could stop them. I don't have any idea- but then he was cut off and it sounded like he was in a struggle and then…" By now she was crying heavily. "It sounded like… the line clicked out." I frowned.
"Just when I think I might get a single night off, I raise a zombie in my sleep and then my Aunt's boy toy gets kidnapped or something," She sputtered a denial about Andrew and hers' relationship and I tried not to roll my eyes. "Look, I'll go over there and check on him, I'm sure it's nothing. Anyway, try to get some sleep I'll come back home when I can." Normally, Lauren would have argued; spouted off some parental spoof about not being out so late past curfew or that it was too dangerous, but she didn't. Perhaps something inside her finally realized I was capable of taking care of myself or… maybe it was because I dashed out of there faster than she could blow her nose and blink. Stopping only to grab my boots, keys, wallet and coat; I was so out of there.
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Andrew is a pretty wealthy guy, he's got a nice homie chalet just North out of New York City. My aunt and myself live in good old Buffalo, not that I'm complaining or anything. Its not like I don't get around; I might live in Buffalo, but I spend an alarmingly large amount of my time in NYC. What can I say, what Aunt Lauren doesn't know can't hurt her.
Anyhow, the drive to NYC was a long one, about 2 ½ hours if I was lucky. Half way there I stopped in Syracuse. Probably a bad decision on my part, however I needed gas, and they had a pump. As quickly as possible I was out of there, werewolves are territorial and I didn't need any of the hairballs following me around. How would they know I was a Necromancer? How they know who anyone is, by smell. I've been told that Necromancer's put off a smell of powerful magic. It's strange because Witches and Sorcerers supposedly don't smell of magic, but I'm sure it can be argued that I smell of magic because Necromancer's were born of the black kind. The point is, the Pack would know who I was, or at least what I was, and I didn't need any of their snuff. The only reasonable member of that fiasco was the Alpha, and he was on vacation with his wife. Meaning his son was currently in command, meaning; no way in hell was I sticking around. There was bound to be blood shed for the Alpha to clean up after when he got home, and I so didn't want to become a part of it.
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A huge relief sprang up inside me as I turned onto Andrew's large winding drive way, that is until I saw his house come into view around the next curve. Then I got a suspicious feeling in my gut, that dropped to my feet. Any hope that I'd find Andrew safe and sound in bed vanished, and I realized it was going to be a longer night than I'd thought. It was about 4:30 in the morning, and his door was wide open and a glow that was most likely his television on lit up the windows in an eerie color of blue and grey. I submitted a long tired sigh and grit my teeth hard as I stopped half way along the drive and got out of the car. I put it in park but let it run, if anything nasty awaited me in the house I wanted a fast getaway. I went around back to the trunk of my tiny cavalier and popped it open, inside the hidden compartment where my spare tire was held, so was my "equipment." Frowning I realized I'd left my gun at home, I was left with only my mini crossbow, holy water, daggers, crucifix and some helpful ingredients for spells and potions used for Necromancy. Unfortunately I realized it didn't quite matter what I took in the house since I didn't quite know what the hell had happened yet, I chose the dagger my comfort weapon of choice. I slid it in my boot and slammed the trunk shut making sure it clunked indicating a good seal. Than thinking better of my original plan to leave the car running I repossessed my keys and headed for the house as silent as possible.
Entering the doorway hesitantly I saw my first thought on his television being on was right. This fact made me less tense and yet made me even worried still, Andrew would never leave his TV on in the living room and go to bed with out turning it off. I clutched the handle of the dagger and crept further into the house. Effortlessly pulling the beautiful blessed blade out of its sheath, I rounded a corner into the hallway holding Andrew's bedroom and shuffled silently to his room. Seeing that it too was cracked open an inch sent a thrill of terror down my back, I've never enjoyed seeing dead things. There are some things in life that no one should get used to, and witnessing as gruesome of deaths as I have, is one of the many. Breathing deeply I could almost smell it, the stench of a fresh kill. My chest constricted and I knew I didn't want to open that door for the world. Just as I was about to press open the door however something flickered in my peripherals and caused my head to snap to the left causing great whiplash that I knew I'd feel much later in the day. As I winced and massaged my neck momentarily an image began to form in front of me, and I was both surprised and yet unsurprised by the fact that the ghost I know stared at was Andrew. I opened my mouth now grimacing, wanting to tell him how sorry I was when he cut me off.
"Look, Chloe. I don't have much time, the people who killed me, they're after you. You need to get the others too, get a piece of paper! Hurry Chloe," He urged and with out realizing what I was doing fervently reached at a notepad lying on the table at the end of the hall, a pencil laying beside it conveniently. "Good, good. Now write down these names and promise me you'll help them! Victoria Enright-Bae, Simon Bae, Kit Bae, and Derek Souza," seeing that I had written the names down and spelled them correctly had calmed him, but he went right back to business before I could get more then a simple question of who these people were, out of my mouth. "They're your only hope, Chloe. Don't go back home, just grab the pack of clothes you leave here for emergencies and some toiletries and go to the Pack." I finally cut him off.
"The Pack, in Syracuse? Are you crazy? The Alpha is on vacation and his crazy ass son is-"
"I know, I know Chloe! Open that drawer to the table where you got the paper and pen from and you'll find a letter, you may read it. Just make sure you give it to whoever the leader is of the Pack when you get there, it explains most of everything. Make sure, promise me, that you will not contact your Aunt, Chloe. Promise me." He pleaded with his eyes.
"Yes, okay. I-I just wish I could let her know I'll be alright." I answered mournfully, then added. "I really, really don't like the Pack…" I bit my lip nervously avoiding his gaze.
"I know you don't sweetheart, but you have to do this, not just for me and Lauren, but for yourself too, and the others I gave you the names of. You're all in danger, now, please hurry and leave! They may come back and find you, grab something small of mine so that if you need me, it will be easy for you to summon me. Please, forgive me." He began fading out both visually and vocally and I could feel a hole tearing itself in my heart as I realized what I'd lost. Andrew had been the closest thing to a father for me, my real father had skipped out on me after my mother's death when I was 8. Tears I didn't want, began to fall steadily down my face and with a new sense of bravery I kicked open his bedroom door and marched in, both horrified and numb to the scene before me. Andrews' throat was slit and his eyes were lifeless and still open, blood covered his bedding and floor. A clean and relatively white room in color was now a dark sea of red and death. I gagged on a sob of outrage and sadness, and quickly turned to the dresser and pulled out an old hoodie. I then rushed out of that room and house carrying only my pack he'd had mentioned, the letter and pad of paper and pen, the hoodie laced over my arm and a new pain in my chest. A new darkness swelling in my soul.
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A/N: How was it? Let me hear it people! If I get enough positive feedback, I will post the next chapter either tomorrow or the next day. I write for you guys, and if you're worrying about Derek, don't! He enters in the next chapter! Reviews=Love! :D