This is my first piece of writing, so expecting a lot of criticism. Don't worry I can take it (flinch). This is a short introduction or a prologue if you want to call it to my try story. Noone really makes Baraba Kreautz and Jon Talbain stories...well they have to start somewhere. IF you know of one plz tell me of its name. I am WildDayDreamer where it "its never too wild to day dream, but only if you can daydream wild enough." Reviews encouraged.

This story is brought to you by WDD productions and side effects to reading this story may lead to late night activities, enhanced vocabulary, unusual stupidness, and etc. Not responsible for accidents while reading or mysterious diseases, loss of limbs, dyslexia, that may occur during this brief read. if you are still reading this useless paragraph, then I must advise you to move on to the story instead of continuing on with this sentence. No really stop reading this sentence. Move on. I say move on. Stop Reading! I mean it! If you are still reading this paragraph then ...fine... you get a mental cookie NOW GO AWAY. Are they gone? Who am I talking to? Ok, I 'm gonna end this. Yep, right about now. Sure. Bye. Bye. NOW READ. Bye. WildDayDreamer dismisses you. MMk . I'm off. ...eep...door shuts...

I don't know why this is necessary since everyone knows that, of course, I don't own the darkstalker characters, but ANYWAY I don't own Jon Talbain, Baraba Kreutz, Mystery Woman, and etc yada yada yada. Disclaimer (but for your info I do have a Jon Talbain plushie with huggable and squeezable action :P.

jonny aka WildDayDreamer

The chilly night vibrated as emptiness echoed off the walls of silence. The night lingered an icy bitterness that was covered by a mood of death. A single village erected in the center of a forest coveted by the night's cold blanket. But a glimmer of burning anger glittered in a single hut. A plan of fear, death, and hate drifted through minds as roars of approval responded to the hideous plan.

Another hut laid in the outskirts of the village away from the packed housing that crowded the very center of the village. A woman rested weakly in a bed caressing a newly born child in her arms. A man paced around the bed with a look of defeat and fury building up in the expression of his face. His silvery hair glistening in the moonlight with an unmistakable resemblance to a wolf's pelt hanging in front keeping him constantly brushing it away from his handsome face. His unshaved face sprouted the same white, silvery hair that boldly defined his burning red eyes. He was a tall, lean, and greatly built man with an air of command and strong confidence. He looked lovingly at the woman, the woman that made him stay away from his other life, the demon life. And now the only thing he ever showed true love would slip away like a delicate flower in the wind.

Baraba Kreutz was his name, a wolf lord in the makai demon world with the mastery of lycanthropy and the strength and pride of the Kreutz family clan. Many battles he won and survived with scars to prove, but the battle of loss was one he wasn't prepared for. He stared at the baby accusingly with glances of hate.

" Why did it happen? Why did this…THING have to steal away the soul of his mate?"

Large amounts of rage poured out of his body as he shivered uncontrollably to contain himself. The woman saw this and calmed the werewolf with a gentle touch.

" It's not his fault, my love," as she stared adoringly at the happy gurgling baby.

" You must take care of my baby…. our baby," she rasped.

" Please take Jon and run for it and leave me here," first mentioning the baby's name.

" The villagers already know of your … gifts, but you must leave.

" I will kill them all to protect you," he answered hopefully.

" Such violence will not help the baby or my soul"

" Please stop talking and rest," as he caressed her hair.

" Go please, death is impatient," pointing to the door. " And remember… I love you both," she gave off an exhausted sigh and closed her eyes for the last time as death visited her dreams.

He bowed as he touched her body for the last time and planted a final, everlasting kiss. Hesitantly, he grabbed the baby and roughly placed it in a basket. His anger finally allowed out of its box as instinct returned to its rightful spot. His muscles grew with bones cracking and popping to fill up the constantly growing body. His new body tensed up with red and silver fur replacing the useless human shell. A snout protruded growing larger as his ears extended and posed with alertness. A bold and intense figure replaced the man in the hut. A low howl emitted from the red werewolf's throat, as he deeply wanted to express his sorrow to the ever-listening moon. But a burning, crackling sensation halted him as his senses scouted out with expertise. Burnt torches with rebellious shouts of the village people filled the air as the march began. He felt his old battle scars burn with the lust for blood as he silently looked at the pitiful figure of beauty on the bed. He grasped the basket in his huge lycanthrope jaws and silently strolled outside the hut. He glanced at the moon longingly as his beautiful figure illuminated in the moonlight. He looked at the forest and then the group of torches slowly marching toward his hut. The fight of desire and purpose raged inside him as he grimaced with indecision.

" I'm sorry , my love," he answered.

How is it so far. I got more writing to put on, but hopefully this caught someone's attention. Sigh.

First Day of FanFiction: writing quantity not so good, but its a start :)