Release
By: SolarisDeschain
Prologue- He Watched.
He watched. He sat from afar, although he didn't have to. He didn't like crowds anyway, and besides, even though he was a large component to this glorious day, he was despised. So he sat, watching the survivors of the Human-Vampire War finish things once and for all. They were bringing the last surviving vampires of the war, there were 50, to be placed in a storage device, constructed by Mikhail Kaiser, D's old brother-in-arms during this war. He recalled the brief words the two shared before they started to bring out the prisoners.
"D, you know I couldn't have done it without you."
D sat on his "horse", its red eyes glistening in the harsh desert heat. "I know."
"Are you coming to the ceremony?" Mikhail asked The Dunpeal, resting his giant war-hammer on his right shoulder.
"I'm thinking about it. I will if you give me my pay."
"D, you couldn't…just let this go, could you? This cost. It's outrageous."
"I don't work for free and you know it."
Mikhail sighed and looked into the sunrise of the desert. He reached into his pocket, pulling out six pouches full of gold. "Here. This is all of it."
D reached out and grabbed the money, sliding it into a pouch on the saddle to the "horse".
"If you come to the ceremony, try not to get to close to people. They still don't like you, and I know you definitely won't be liked if you get put inside The Book."
D nods, and grunts a little. "You were my best support in this war, Mikhail. But don't let it think I won't kill you if absolutely necessary."
"Please. You know I know that, you also know I care to extend the same courtesy. The ceremony starts in three hours." He turned, and began walking away.
D jolted out of the reverie as he saw The Book. It was designed by Mikhail in the last three years of the war, when it became apparent who the victor would be. He completed it six months ago, with the war over and the remaining vampires taken captive. He named it The Tome of Black Hearts, due to the vampires that would be stored there. Most of which were the most ferocious of their warriors. Especially Seraph. Seraph had killed an unprecedented number of men in the war, more men than D had even scored of his own enemies. When he was finally brought in, at the hands of D and Mikhail, it was a grand thing. That was just a few months before the conclusion of the war.
The Tome of Black Hearts rested on a large pedestal, forming a giant hand and constructed of the bones of The Barborois, the vampire's sworn protectors, who, as of now, were all but wiped out. Mikhail and Deacon Sloane, the designer of the arcane object and the virtual leader of the human race, approached it. The vampires, some male, some female, were led to the book a large contingent of soldiers, they were all in chains, but would undoubtedly break them at one point or another. At the last of the pack was Seraph. He had his own contingent of soldiers, as he was more dangerous than any of the other 50. There was something about Seraph that was different about most vampires. He had evolved. Not only did he have the teeth and the usual characteristics of his kind, his fingernails possessed an exceedingly dangerous quality. They were long. Each fingernail was 6 inches in length, and harder than nails. They also functioned like a proboscis. He could stick his fingernails in his opponent, draining their blood in a matter of moments, and gaining his strength from theirs all while doing so.
Deacon and Mikhail undid the lock on the book, and slowly opened it; soldiers stood 50 feet away, keeping the throng of optimistic humans from being sucked in. The soldiers guarding the vampires were especially selected to go in the book with them, and serve as protection should the lock be able to be opened from the inside. There would be no food, no water, and no chance of survival. But that was the idea. Maybe these vampires would die as well. One could only hope so.
A whistling sound emanated from the book, sucking in air very loudly. D raised his left hand toward the book, showing it what it wanted to see. Dust kicked up around the vampires and their guards, and their bodies began to draw closer to the book. Then the whistling erupted into a high-pitched wail, and their bodies began to blur. Suddenly, in a very fast motion, blur, and white flash of light, they were gone. Deacon and Mikhail shut the book quickly and latched it just as fast. The wail stopped, and the dust settled. The people stared in awe and silence, except for a few discreet mumblings, at the scene that had just unfolded in front of their eyes.
D didn't care about anything that might happen next. As far as he was concerned, it was nothing that concerned him. The Hunter gripped the reins with both hands, and turned the horse around. He rode away from the scene, away from the desert, away from the people, away from another incident in his long life.
