This is a short POV oneshot from the time when the Ancient vampires were fighting the Hylden. It's based on a dream I had recently, so it might come across as being a bit odd.
I could never understand why they would want to kill me. I never did anything to them. I had always tried to avoid the conflict with the Hylden. Before all this had really started, I thought that there could be some kind of agreement made between our races. But as fate would have it, neither side would even consider the idea.
All I knew now though, was that I simply had to escape. I had a vague idea of what the Hylden did with those they captured; unspeakable tortures which left you bereft of your sanity or your even soul. I knew that I couldn't possibly endure such agonies.
And so I ran across the dusky heathland, evading two of those who would wish me dead. They were made for running, those two. I couldn't stay ahead of them much longer, but I could feel the gusts of the salty sea air push longingly against me.
They almost had me, but ahead I could see a welcoming sight. The land stopped abruptly, a vast precipice where the waves crashed on the rocks far below. I didn't pause at the edge, or even think to pause. Hurling myself over the rocky height, I unfurled my wings.
All I could hear was the deep rumble of waves on the cliffs below, and seagulls screaming in the air. Even though I had escaped, I knew I still wasn't liberated. I chanced a look behind me and saw the inconceivable horror.
They flew.
New frigid dread poured into me. How could it be possible? They had never done this before.
I swiftly made my way to Wyrm's Head; a small peninsula, riddled with caves. I could only hope this hiding place of my childhoodwould serve me as well as it did years before.
Swooping down amongst the gulls, I quickly nestled myself into a little crevice in the rock; and hoped they wouldn't find me.
But it didn't matter where I hid, they always found me.
...Except...
I chanced to look up, and over head, I saw an enormous flock of starlings fly overhead. I saw them, and I was a starling.
I knew then, in the very depths of my soul, that the Hylden couldn't get me. Not now. Not ever.
I smiled then, because I knew I was safe at last.
There. I told you it was going to be odd. But then a lot of dreams are like that.
Wyrm's Head is an actual place, by the way. But in real life it's spelled Worm's Head. It's a little bit of land that sticks out from the Gower peninsular in south Wales. It probably ended up in my dream because I used to live on the Gower, before I moved inland to Brecon.