Hey guys, this is my first story on , this is only the prologue and I'll soon have the first chapter updated.
This is just a taster so I can see if you guys are interested in what I have to give to you.
Please let me know what you think ~
Pre-Vamparic Period
French Revolution, Year 1778
Françoise watched from afar, her hair tucked neatly under a black cap decorated with smudges of blood and vomit; the filthy black trousers and shirt she wore were far from the frilled lace gowns and diamonds that she had worn during her youth, but sacrifices had to be made to keep her identity a secret, to keep her alive.
Her life was important to her, so important that she just stood there and watched.
She watched as they pinned the woman to the ground, drawing knives and looming over her as unanswered screams for help echoed through the alley. She watched as they ripped through her dirtied gown until her breasts and thighs were bare and as a whimper tried to slither up Françoise's throat, she swallowed hard and blinked her eyes against the salty tears.
She watched as the woman's breasts were cupped by one of the surrounding men, he yanked roughly at the small lump before thrusting his metal blade into her soft flesh, carving and slicing though her breast while the rest of her tiny body buckled and flailed.
She watched as they began to toy with her detached breast, squishing it like a piece of meat in their hands then sticking their tongues out to catch the heavy flow of blood that cascaded from the lump. One man then smashed his lips against her other breast, his tongue swirling around her nipple like she were his mistress; the sight made Françoise's stomach churn and vomit rise to the back of her throat, but she continued to stare, the shock not allowing her to even blink.
Finally, as hardened members began to poke against and enter the woman's convulsing body, mercy was shown. A man who stood at the woman's head swung back his menacing blade, and with a scream of release he brought it down onto her body.
She watched as the head rolled away to the right, forced aside by the strength of the swing and before she could stop herself, Françoise ran across the alley towards it and fell to her knees. With dirty, shaking fingers she picked up the decapitated head by the blonde locks that spewed from the scalp and turned it around to face her. Her chest began to pump in and out with forced breaths as Françoise looked into the faded eyes of her beloved sister.