Author's Notes: This peice was written for a friend. In our English class, our teacher asked us to write a fairy tale. My friend created the characters, which I am ashamed to say are cheap knock-offs of the original Underworld characters, but everything I wrote using them is completely mine. And yes, in case you're wondering, we did cheat. She asked me to write a fight scene for her, which is the first chapter, I ended up writing the ENTIRE thing. I EVEN DREW THE ILLUSTRATIONS FOR HER!!! I didn't get ANY credit either. Ok, in the end, basically this is an Underworld Fan Fiction. Hope you enjoy it.
There were five of them. Each one's blood uniquely tingling my senses. One of them I could recognize from a past experience, but it was of no use now. They stood at the door, guarding the very path towards my retribution. I would have to be quick and flawless with my attack, one wrong move could send the whole operation into disaster.
I dug my nails into the concrete roof of the building, savoring each burst of the adrenilane rush coursing through my bloodless veins. I reached for my pistol, crying now from its place at my side, screaming to be used. I rubbed the cool metal against my forehead, letting its cold aura mix with mine. I stood, making the shape of a cross, arms held straight out, and feet together, as if willing for my own crucifixion. I then dove from the sky, letting the air in between me and the asphalt fill my senses. The wind blew my hair back into a frenzy, whilst the leather of my clothes flew behind me, making sounds like a flag waving in the wind. Sensing the ground drawing nearer, I opened my eyes, and pulled my arms in, crossing them over my chest. I forced my head to move forward, causing my entire body to filp in mid-air, and embraced the dull thud of my knees crashing into the ground as I reached the end of my flight down.
I stayed kneeling for a moment, head down, as if in prayer. Honestly, I was just waiting to see if the mutts would notice me. As I expected, they had, and were now standing around me, shirts ripped to shreds on the ground at their sides, breathing in and out, waiting for me to make the first move. But instead of planning the move they were waiting for, I listened to their breaths, only wishing I could remember how it felt when such a thing was needed. I heard a growl rise from the gut of one of the men behind me, and just by instinct, I made a move, but not one they were ready for.
My torso bent back, I raised my arms up, gun still in hand, and did a momentary hand stand that quickly switched into an attack. As my body began to fall, making a complete back flip, I kicked in the skull of the growler behind me, and listened to him fall to the ground into a heap of half skin, half fur, as my body retracted back into a standing postition. The other four, momentarily distracted, turned their heads to see what used to be their co-worker. But I gained their attention once again, as I raised my arm into a killing thrust, knocking out another of the half-changed wolves.
I could instantly feel another of them breathing down my neck, already reacting to my attack. He jumped me from behind, sending us both rolling into a nearby wall. He would claw, I would kick, until finally I was able to push the end of my pistol into his gut and fire. He howled in pain, clutching his bleeding stomach, giving me the chance I needed to get out of the situation. It would only take him a moment to force out the silver bullet embedded in his skin. I could already hear his bones crunching in reaction to the blow, pushing the bullet back through the wound it entered in.
I turned quickly, raising my arm up to fire at the others, but was startled to find them standing just behind me, already beginning to finish the final stage of the change. Their snouts lengthened, their bodies grew tall, skinny, and muscular, and their claws and fangs became deadlier than ever. Suddenly, the larger of the two dove at me, forcing me against the wall, one furry palm on my left shoulder, the other paw's claws stabbing into my right.
His snarl became a growl of personal glory as my face switched from a smirk to a look of agony. I could feel my teeth lengthening, my eyes switching from their usual color to a shining blue, this being the reaction to a vampire either receiving blood or losing it in massive amounts. I knew I was passing, and had lost so much blood that I couldn't muster the strength needed to force the lycan off. I looked over the shoulder of the lycan still attempting to wound me, seeing the wolf I had shot before, already standing and changing into his human form, feeling that his work here was done.
That is when I saw the guns in their piles of clothes. Usually lycans do not attempt to carry guns, seeing how bullets do not affect vampires, and they're claws are much better weapons then any knife or silver ammunition. What had caught my attention was the fact that these guns were glowing a sort of blue, light making its way through the peices of the pistols, showing that whatever it was, it was not the ordinary style of ammunition. Just as my eyes began to close, permanantly ending any thought again of what the werewolves had in their guns, I felt the wieght of the attacking lycan lift off me, releasing the pressure of his claw disabling my body to heal.
I sank to the ground, wallowing in my own blood, unable to help my savior who was now fighting the remaining lycans. I could feel my wound healing, finally being able to close after the puncture, but I only wished it would heal faster. My eyes were now clear enough to see the scene unfolding before me, so I lifted my head, only hoping that I hadn't missed anything important.
It turned out that Gerard had realized my absence, and come to the resteraunt, knowing that that was where I was headed. He had stabbed his own claws into the back of the werewolf on top of me, and had thrown him against the opposite wall, beginning his very own surprise attack on the lycans. Although the three remaining gaurds of my attack were still alive and conscious, it seemed that Gerard was getting the best of them.
The two still changed were now fighting Gerard off, trying to get back to killing me before I had become completely regenerated. Gerard was now kicking and punching furiously at the wolves, his eyes turning the fierce blue that mine were now. My grateful thoughts were ended however whilst I watched in horror as the lycan that had taken human form reached into his own pile of clothing, grabbed the gun within, and aimed the bullet at Gerard. I tried to raise myself up, pushing my arms against the wall, struggling with my right shoulder as it burned in pain. Knowing that I would not get there in time, I opened my mouth, letting out a blood-soaked scream that, to this day, still haunts my own memory. "GERARD!!!"
Gerard had just finished off one of the wolves, slashing his claws across the lycan's throat, sending its blood all over Gerard's face. He turned quickly to me, startled at the sight of my face in fear. He looked to where my eyes pointed, and stood confused as the turned-human werewolf shot the pistol into Gerard's chest. He fell to the ground, his mouth partly open, revealing the fangs already beginning to sharpen from the hit. I waited for a moment to see the reaction to the glowing ammunition, and a moment was all it took. The two remaning lycans watched with me as Gerard's body began to wrench forward and back, his whole form shaking and groaning into tense positions. He screamed as what looked like blue light radiated from his mouth and eyes, burning holes through his skin, forcing smoke from pores throughout his body. He turned to me for one last glance, his blue eyes shining even bluer having mixed with the ammuntion. And in that moment, he forced his face from a pained expression, to a look of content, making it seem that he died satisfied with his immortal life.
And in that last emotion, Gerard was gone, never to have the taste of blood fill his senses again. I turned my head to see the lycans standing in awe, unlike me, who's body now was formed with only anger and vengeance. I raced behind the changed wolf, my super-human strength making the action only take a second. I grabbed the fur on the back of his head with one hand and the end of his snout with the other, twisting his head around with a sickening crunch. The now human lycan, finally realizing that I was not in my dying position anymore, did not notice me behind him until I turned him around facing me and bit into his neck in a blood-lust fury. With every drop of his blood, I regained my vampiric strength, but along with it came a need for more.
When only dust ran through his immortal viens, I finally dropped his life-less form to the ground, making my way towards the spot were only ashes of Gerard remained. In a moment like this, I expected my body to grow limp with grief, and only wish to mourn my one and only friend in this immortal life. But instead, all I could do was clench and unclench my fists, letting my thoughts fill with sweet sweet revenge against any and all lycans. Instantly, my head turned round to see the wolf that Gerard had struck down moments before death, turned human and now opening the door into the resteraunt. He turned back for only a moment, allowing me a good look at his face, and every feature that could possibly help me in tracking him down. I noticed instantly that he was marked with a follower brand, as were a lot of the lycans. These brands could tell any person that wanted to know which gang or group a lycan belonged to. It was a tattoo of a half moon with a circle in the crest. Lucian.