Darkness had no left the place where Erol had been attacked, and a heavy
shroud of black hung like a horrific, blank blanket over the dimly lit slum-
area of Haven City.
But among this cloak of darkness was a living shadow, a figure clad only in black. It crouched lowly perched on the edge of a building, overlooking the street like a gargoyle. It wasn't a shadow, or a wraith. His name was Raven.
Yes, Torn's supernatural stalker had a name, and the name suited him very well. He was fast and cunning, as sly as the black bird itself. He was young and lean, and blessed with supernatural agility and strength. His hair was long and velvety black in colour, like that of a starless night. Though his pale face was rather gaunt with high cheek bones, he was considerably handsome, with a fine nose and perfectly-carved lips. But behind this handsome face lies a gruesome and pained past.and a power bestowed only upon those who were damned from human community.
Raven was a vampire, a walker of the night and a drinker of blood. But unlike all vampires we know off, his kind, known as the Shadow-Reapers, weren't afraid of light. But they were mostly nocturnal people, and for years they have been living off the blood of innocent people.
Surprisingly, these vampires don't do humans much harm. Like human mosquitoes, they only drink blood when their victims are sleeping. They have their ways of keeping them asleep while they do so; the gentle kiss of their lips on the skin of the neck had an almost trancing effect on their choosen victim, putting the human into an even deeper sleep. This allowed them to drink the blood freely, but they never take more than enough. Too much blood wasn't healthy for a Shadow-Reaper, and it was against the rules to actually suck a human dry. After having their fill, it was essential that the vampire rubs an oilment they always carry around onto the neck- wound; so that it would heal and erase all evidence that they were there.
This practise kept them both alive and unknown to the humans for thousands of years. But they don't only use their fangs to drink blood, there were more sinister uses a vampire has in store for his fangs. Like all Shadow- Reapers, Raven can transfer his vampire power to another person. But the bite must be deep and quick, and it was always painful. Nowadays, they rarely do such things to humans. They hardly ever survive after they've bitten them anyway.
Raven smiled sinisterly to himself when he thought about the hapless human he had bitten just a few hours before. But then he remembered the stupid crocadog that bit him. The wound still burned, but he had already taken care of that. He set his mind on the man he had been stalking.Torn, was it?
Yes, it was Torn. He knew he worked for those rebels who restored the true king of Haven City. He was stubborn; easy to spot, but hard to catch. There was something about him that he wasn't too comfortable with either, but that wasn't going to stop him from getting what he wants from the poor bastard.
What does he want? No, there isn't the time to say so. Time was running out, and Raven knew he must have it before it was too late. If not, it would mean the end of the Shadow-Reapers, and perhaps Haven City as well.
8.30 AM, the Palace Gardens.
Jak, Daxter and Torn approached Tess, who was busy gathering flowers for the table.
Daxter: Hey, there sugar-lips, how's about giving me a little scratch behind the ears?
Tess: Sure thing, you furry little cutie!
She bent down and scratched Daxter, who let out a sigh of ecstacy.
Jak: How's Erol?
Tess: He isn't going on too good. I couldn't get him to eat properly; he kept throwing up.
Torn: Well, I'm sure he'll be okay sooner or later.
Suddenly Ashelin appeared from behind them.
Ashelin: There you are! I've been looking for you.
Torn: What's wrong, Ash?
Ashelin: Nothing important, really. Eversince Erol's little accident, you'll have to lead his troop to Haven Forest for the Metalhead hunt tomorrow.
Torn: But that's a two-day mission!
Ashelin: I know, but we've no other alternative. Jak's busy with Samos and I need to patrol the sewers.
Torn: But Keira's party is in two days time! Samos is gonna kill me if I don't turn up.
Ashelin: I told him everything. he wasn't too happy about it, but he let you go.
Torn: (Sighs) Can't risk it. Tell the troops to get ready, I'd better leave now.
And so he did. Poor Torn, he always got the unwanted action. Soon enough he found himself spending his whole afternoon ridding Haven Forest of Metalheads. Surprisingly, a great number of them still strive here, running amok among the trees for no reason. But as night fall approached, their numbers thinned dramatically. Remembering that it was a two-day mission, Torn ordered that camps were set up while he and a few more of his men go on a scout.
Torn was walking along the bushes with his men when he suddenly sensed a change in the atmosphere.
Torn: Oh no. no .
Trooper 1: What's the matter, sir?
Torn: Nothing .nothing .just keep moving.
Torn walked on, and his nerves began to go cold. The leaves were strangely still, and the wind died down. It was so silent he could hear his heart beating.
Torn: All right, I think we should go back now.
But then he realized he was talking to himself. His troop had vanished.
A surge of panic welled up inside him, threatening to spill out his lunch. A fear gripped him, and he frantically looked around him. He yelled for his men, but only the living silence, the same silence he had heard during the night attack, answered his cries.
Torn held his gun close to him, but he knew it was useless. He was alone.so alone!
But he wasn't.
Torn's heart hammered like a restless frog in his chest when his eyes fell on a black figure standing not too far away. He knew that figure just too well.
*****: Hello, Torn.
Torn: You!
Torn drew his gun quickly, but at the corner of his eye he saw more black clad figures approach him from all sides. Each of them was armed with a lethal looking rifle-gun.
Torn: Who are you?
*****: Raven is enough for you, my little friend. Now, I would like it very much for you to cooperate. So please, just tell us.where is it?
Torn: Where is what, for f***ing crying out loud!?
Raven: You know too well, Torn. The Stone. Where is it?
Torn: The Precursor Stone, eh? Why?
Raven: For a few reasons I recommend you should keep your nose out off. So, please, I'm asking you now.can we have the stone?
Torn: You have nice manners for a thief and a liar, but tough luck. We'll never give it to you!
Raven: (Growls) Fine, then we'll have to do it the hard way.
Torn: (Readies his gun) Do your worst!
And they struck.
Torn sent a hail of fiery bullets singing through the air, but to his shock the pale warriors simply leaped with inhuman agility over the deadly hail and dodged every bullet. A cry of horror escaped his lips and his system screamed at him to run, but his legs refused to move a single inch.
And before he knew it, he was knocked helplessly around by a dozen or so fists. They pale warriors closed in on him and easily took hold of his arms and held him tightly. Raven approached him, smiling that evil, malicious smile.
But then suddenly, it happened s fast, the warrior's grip on Torn's arms loosened sharply and all of them drew back, screaming in pain. Torn fell onto his back, and looked up quickly to see who his savior was.
He couldn't believe his eyes.
He drew a sharp gasp, and he wasn't the only one. Towering over the shocked warriors was a seven-foot tall Metalhead beast with a muscular human-like body but with the head of a wolf. Thick, armoured plates covered its arms, legs and back, and short metal spikes protuded out of its back.
Torn just couldn't believe it. It was another Metalhead wolf-beast!
The beast let out a long terrifying howl that struck fear into even the boldest of the pale warriors. He watched in awe as it struck them one by one with its vicious claws. All of them fell before its unforgiving warth, all save for Raven, whom stared with blazing hatred at it.
Raven: Die!
He raised a gun, but the bullet wasn't shot. The beast had bowled him completely over with a brutal swipe. Not waiting for Raven to get onto his feet, it lunged for Torn's prone form.
Torn screamed only once before the beast grabbed him around the waist and carried him off into the gloom, away from Raven. He screamed and screamed, but there was nothing he could do.except pray that the beast wasn't hungry.
But among this cloak of darkness was a living shadow, a figure clad only in black. It crouched lowly perched on the edge of a building, overlooking the street like a gargoyle. It wasn't a shadow, or a wraith. His name was Raven.
Yes, Torn's supernatural stalker had a name, and the name suited him very well. He was fast and cunning, as sly as the black bird itself. He was young and lean, and blessed with supernatural agility and strength. His hair was long and velvety black in colour, like that of a starless night. Though his pale face was rather gaunt with high cheek bones, he was considerably handsome, with a fine nose and perfectly-carved lips. But behind this handsome face lies a gruesome and pained past.and a power bestowed only upon those who were damned from human community.
Raven was a vampire, a walker of the night and a drinker of blood. But unlike all vampires we know off, his kind, known as the Shadow-Reapers, weren't afraid of light. But they were mostly nocturnal people, and for years they have been living off the blood of innocent people.
Surprisingly, these vampires don't do humans much harm. Like human mosquitoes, they only drink blood when their victims are sleeping. They have their ways of keeping them asleep while they do so; the gentle kiss of their lips on the skin of the neck had an almost trancing effect on their choosen victim, putting the human into an even deeper sleep. This allowed them to drink the blood freely, but they never take more than enough. Too much blood wasn't healthy for a Shadow-Reaper, and it was against the rules to actually suck a human dry. After having their fill, it was essential that the vampire rubs an oilment they always carry around onto the neck- wound; so that it would heal and erase all evidence that they were there.
This practise kept them both alive and unknown to the humans for thousands of years. But they don't only use their fangs to drink blood, there were more sinister uses a vampire has in store for his fangs. Like all Shadow- Reapers, Raven can transfer his vampire power to another person. But the bite must be deep and quick, and it was always painful. Nowadays, they rarely do such things to humans. They hardly ever survive after they've bitten them anyway.
Raven smiled sinisterly to himself when he thought about the hapless human he had bitten just a few hours before. But then he remembered the stupid crocadog that bit him. The wound still burned, but he had already taken care of that. He set his mind on the man he had been stalking.Torn, was it?
Yes, it was Torn. He knew he worked for those rebels who restored the true king of Haven City. He was stubborn; easy to spot, but hard to catch. There was something about him that he wasn't too comfortable with either, but that wasn't going to stop him from getting what he wants from the poor bastard.
What does he want? No, there isn't the time to say so. Time was running out, and Raven knew he must have it before it was too late. If not, it would mean the end of the Shadow-Reapers, and perhaps Haven City as well.
8.30 AM, the Palace Gardens.
Jak, Daxter and Torn approached Tess, who was busy gathering flowers for the table.
Daxter: Hey, there sugar-lips, how's about giving me a little scratch behind the ears?
Tess: Sure thing, you furry little cutie!
She bent down and scratched Daxter, who let out a sigh of ecstacy.
Jak: How's Erol?
Tess: He isn't going on too good. I couldn't get him to eat properly; he kept throwing up.
Torn: Well, I'm sure he'll be okay sooner or later.
Suddenly Ashelin appeared from behind them.
Ashelin: There you are! I've been looking for you.
Torn: What's wrong, Ash?
Ashelin: Nothing important, really. Eversince Erol's little accident, you'll have to lead his troop to Haven Forest for the Metalhead hunt tomorrow.
Torn: But that's a two-day mission!
Ashelin: I know, but we've no other alternative. Jak's busy with Samos and I need to patrol the sewers.
Torn: But Keira's party is in two days time! Samos is gonna kill me if I don't turn up.
Ashelin: I told him everything. he wasn't too happy about it, but he let you go.
Torn: (Sighs) Can't risk it. Tell the troops to get ready, I'd better leave now.
And so he did. Poor Torn, he always got the unwanted action. Soon enough he found himself spending his whole afternoon ridding Haven Forest of Metalheads. Surprisingly, a great number of them still strive here, running amok among the trees for no reason. But as night fall approached, their numbers thinned dramatically. Remembering that it was a two-day mission, Torn ordered that camps were set up while he and a few more of his men go on a scout.
Torn was walking along the bushes with his men when he suddenly sensed a change in the atmosphere.
Torn: Oh no. no .
Trooper 1: What's the matter, sir?
Torn: Nothing .nothing .just keep moving.
Torn walked on, and his nerves began to go cold. The leaves were strangely still, and the wind died down. It was so silent he could hear his heart beating.
Torn: All right, I think we should go back now.
But then he realized he was talking to himself. His troop had vanished.
A surge of panic welled up inside him, threatening to spill out his lunch. A fear gripped him, and he frantically looked around him. He yelled for his men, but only the living silence, the same silence he had heard during the night attack, answered his cries.
Torn held his gun close to him, but he knew it was useless. He was alone.so alone!
But he wasn't.
Torn's heart hammered like a restless frog in his chest when his eyes fell on a black figure standing not too far away. He knew that figure just too well.
*****: Hello, Torn.
Torn: You!
Torn drew his gun quickly, but at the corner of his eye he saw more black clad figures approach him from all sides. Each of them was armed with a lethal looking rifle-gun.
Torn: Who are you?
*****: Raven is enough for you, my little friend. Now, I would like it very much for you to cooperate. So please, just tell us.where is it?
Torn: Where is what, for f***ing crying out loud!?
Raven: You know too well, Torn. The Stone. Where is it?
Torn: The Precursor Stone, eh? Why?
Raven: For a few reasons I recommend you should keep your nose out off. So, please, I'm asking you now.can we have the stone?
Torn: You have nice manners for a thief and a liar, but tough luck. We'll never give it to you!
Raven: (Growls) Fine, then we'll have to do it the hard way.
Torn: (Readies his gun) Do your worst!
And they struck.
Torn sent a hail of fiery bullets singing through the air, but to his shock the pale warriors simply leaped with inhuman agility over the deadly hail and dodged every bullet. A cry of horror escaped his lips and his system screamed at him to run, but his legs refused to move a single inch.
And before he knew it, he was knocked helplessly around by a dozen or so fists. They pale warriors closed in on him and easily took hold of his arms and held him tightly. Raven approached him, smiling that evil, malicious smile.
But then suddenly, it happened s fast, the warrior's grip on Torn's arms loosened sharply and all of them drew back, screaming in pain. Torn fell onto his back, and looked up quickly to see who his savior was.
He couldn't believe his eyes.
He drew a sharp gasp, and he wasn't the only one. Towering over the shocked warriors was a seven-foot tall Metalhead beast with a muscular human-like body but with the head of a wolf. Thick, armoured plates covered its arms, legs and back, and short metal spikes protuded out of its back.
Torn just couldn't believe it. It was another Metalhead wolf-beast!
The beast let out a long terrifying howl that struck fear into even the boldest of the pale warriors. He watched in awe as it struck them one by one with its vicious claws. All of them fell before its unforgiving warth, all save for Raven, whom stared with blazing hatred at it.
Raven: Die!
He raised a gun, but the bullet wasn't shot. The beast had bowled him completely over with a brutal swipe. Not waiting for Raven to get onto his feet, it lunged for Torn's prone form.
Torn screamed only once before the beast grabbed him around the waist and carried him off into the gloom, away from Raven. He screamed and screamed, but there was nothing he could do.except pray that the beast wasn't hungry.