Carolina awoke from her deep sleep, her moist eyes slightly sparkling. Her blonde hair was ruffled around her head, like a universe revolving around a sun. Carolina's head drifted towards the direction of the one window in her bedroom; the rain from outside and the constant flashing of lightning covered it. She thought it was the storm outside that awoke her, but she couldn't be certain. She felt very awake, like something greatly startled her.
The young woman's eyes drifted to the corner of the room, where a lone candle burnt solitarily by itself. It looked spent, having burnt nearly all the way down. Carolina threw her feet off the bed and stood up, drifting over to the window as the glow of the lightning provided a better view outside. She looked outside but didn't see what she wanted to, she only saw empty night.
She thought it would be futile to hope for the hopeless. The last time she saw Henry, his eyes were lit with a fury to the news that his brother had been attacked. Carolina had met Victor before and remembered how he was; a broad-smiling nice priest that seemed happy for Henry. She felt remorse for what happened to Victor because he was such a nice person, but her heart dropped even further when she saw how it hurt Henry.
It may have seemed Henry just went into a rage, at the same time finding a direct objective then, but only Carolina could see past that. She knew how well his feelings portrayed themselves, which she thought were a desirable quality to Henry. He may act harsh or rude, but he wanted someone like her. At least, that's what she thought.
Maybe she was thinking too much about him, she thought. She guessed that possibly she was making Henry out to more of a riddle than he really was. She didn't intentionally do that, she just finds herself at a loss of words in front of a man who's called a hero. She can't imagine someone in a position like that, where they are credited with helping to save the world.
Carolina learned much of the story from other people when it happened, she never could get much information from Henry. He loved the chance to gloat, but with what happened in that castle he just couldn't say much. It always did bother her.
Her slender hands went to her nightstand and picked up a small vase, holding a red rose in it. Henry had given it to her for her birthday, which was a few days before the attack on Victor. She kept it close to her, especially when Henry left. However, as she switched hands to place the vase down, her grip slipped and the vase dropped. It cracked against the corner of the nightstand then toppled down to the floor, breaking a couple of pieces off. It didn't shatter, but it was enough to knock out the rose from within. Carolina frowned, leaning down to pick up the rose. Her grip on things was much better than this, she continued to think. Carolina looked out the window once more, where a thunderous bolt struck close by and illuminated her soft and pale features...
Henry thought he nearly was cracked in two, when the giant attacker crashed into him. He was much faster than Henry expected so he wasn't able to strike with his sword in time. Instead, the werewolf-like being used its elongated arm to fling him away and let him crash further down the street in a puddle filled by the rain. The creature raised his arm high above Frederick and brought it down to try to slash his brother's face.
Frederick sidestepped with excellent timing, dodging the monstrous clawed arm and swinging his sword against this arm. He slashed it, but not as deep as he would've expected. It seemed that the protruding muscles were strong enough to provide a form of protection. Dumbfounded, he withdrew the sword back to him and backed up to think to get ready for his second attack. The seal was still shown on his stomach, however its markings seemed clearer to Frederick right now. The seal was also very elaborate, something that he hadn't seen in years.
Seeing that put Frederick on the defensive, trying to dodge each blow the partly-transformed werewolf tried to swing at him. The monsters moves were quick and easily fatal, but Frederick had the advantage; he was quicker. Each swing of Frederick's sword only seemed to cut in lightly and anger the werewolf even more. Henry already got up and saw that his brother was trying to keep quick but didn't know how long it would last.
Henry's body was already in motion before he knew what he was doing. He felt this urge to injure the beast as hard as possible, so he charged right towards him. Once reaching, Frederick sidestepped out of the way and let his brother crash shoulder first into the werewolf. The broad frame of Henry caused the man to stumble backwards, but since he was so much bigger the blow didn't knock him off his feet like Henry intended. The attack did offer Frederick an opening, which he took. Frederick slashed his sword sideways over the same wound he inflicted earlier, in hopes of deepening the slash. It would, it did deepen the cut, but not to the extent that he had hoped. The werewolf was even strong enough to use his elongated arm to shove Henry away from him.
The enemy felt cluttered by these two attacking him so he made a leap to one of the buildings on the side of the street. This leap was truly un-natural; a good distance was covered in a matter of seconds. The man must have changed slightly in the battle because he was able to crash into the side of this stone building and able to stay attached to it. Using the legs, that had increased in size rapidly, the werewolf propelled itself towards the Belmont brothers. The strength that he used to push off the building was so great that the speed was faster than the brothers could move, they would be hit head on.
Frederick only saw a blind flash, as the beast was a mere second away from colliding with them. With a loud crashing sound, coupled with the visual spectacle of white sparks in the air, the partly transformed werewolf was through backwards until he crashed through a vendor's sign and into a wall. The force was great enough to send shockwaves through the streets. The two brothers had no idea what repelled the creature until they saw their brother, Victor, standing in front of them, tall and proud, covered with bandages and holding a iron cross. The bewildered Henry and Frederick lowered their swords to stare at their brother. The rain beat down his complexion as his head turned to look at his brothers, and even with a large slash wound across his face, he slowly grinned. But then he collapsed to the drenched ground, unconscious.
Daraken emerged from underneath the massive arch of a grand temple. His hair is slightly short with the top of it raised slightly in few spikes. The strong, square jaw was unshaven and not kept up very well. His upper body was quite extraordinary, since it was clearly visible because the left side of his shirt was torn away. He had a cloak on too but the left side of that was torn away as well, so it was resting more on his right side; mysteriously covering his right side occasionally, as it seems to float around him. Even with his muscled physique, he wasn't very wide. His height nearly reached six feet, but he looked more battle ready than any figure could have. Any opponent would startle in their movements because of him, not only because his strength but because of his eyes. A cold stare flowed from his white bluish eyes. Even in the storm, the bright blue eyes seemed to glow with a fire deep within. Holding in one hand was an extremely long long sword, one that would look difficult to even balance.
Daraken stopped in his tracks. Looking around in two directions, he settled on one path. As he begun to walk forward at a steady pace, he raised his long sword above his head. Daraken then swung the sword lightning fast behind himself, which actually caused a bolt to strike behind him and clash into the temple head on. With a slight tremor resulting from the attack, the temple developed deep cracks and start to tumble apart in a matter of minutes. Daraken continued to walk forward, his mind set on his destination: Verdose.
