Disclaimer: City of heros, its non-user characters, and Paragon City belong to NcSoft and Cryptic Studios (well the conspiracy theorist next door was right, corporations really DO own citys, or at least these two does. ). What I do own is most of the characters in this story.

Hello, all this is my first fanfic ever, so please forgive me if its not that good. Anyway this is the orgin story for my hero Nightos (lv25 scrapper, Triumph server), and my Villain Sacros (lv10 Stalker Triumph server) orgins.

Winter of Darkness

By

Vincere

Chapter 1: Sunset. part 1

Somewhere in Europe, December, 19, 1909, 6:32 pm. :

This story begins with twoeight year old brothers, Johan and Vincent Magnus, standing on a hill at the edge of their small mountain town, staring into the winter sunset. As the snow falls heavily around them,they feel as if nothing in the world could possibly steal away the peace and tranquility of that moment, and they remain blissfully unaware of the malevolent intent that observes them. Later as the boys walk home threw the village, they begin to talk for the first time since they decided to go to the hill.

The taller of the two brothers, had dark red hair, piercing grey eyes, and a contagious, innocent smile, while the shorter had white blond hair, piercing blue eyes, anda smile more than a bit mischievous. The taller of the two brothersbegan by saying, "Hey Vincent what do you think Mother is making for dinner?".The shorter brotherlooks atthe taller one,andwith a chuckle replies,"Do you EVER think of anything other then your stomach Johan?". With a smileJohan replied "Hmmm, now that you mention it I do think about what's for dinner a lot.",Vincent chuckles some more and continues, "Figures, you always were a big eater, what amazes me is how you stay so skinny!".The two boys chuckle a little over the memory their first annual family dinner, whereevery relative theyhad watched dumbfounded as Johan ate his way through four plates pilled high withhis mothers excellent cooking, andthen eat his way through three slices of his grandmothers famous peach cobbler, only stopping at the insistence of the rest of the family to stop before he left nothing for them. "Not like your any better you know." Johan retorted. "You, are just as bad if not worse, It amazesME how you get out of your chair after dinner!" after chuckling a little at this exchange, despite how often they had it, they came within sight of their home, where the windows were mysteriously dark, though nothing else indicated that anything was unusual.

Vincent, noticing this, looked at Johan, who was still lost in hisdaydreams over what his mother was making for dinner, andsaid "Doesn't Father usually light the candles by now?". Johan snapping out of his daydreams, responded in a slightly worried tone "Yeah your right, the mayor could set thetown clock byFather if he wanted to" Vincent replied, "That's what I thought, and no the mayor could set the village clock by Old Marcus, I doubt he was EVER late for anything a day of his life.". Looking worried,anda little thoughtful over what Vincent hadsaid, Johan Replied "Yeah your right, but this is serious, do you think something's wrong?.". At the thought that something bad had happened, the brothers lapsed into a uneasy silence. After a few momentssilence the boys broke into a dash for their home, Vincent saying as they ran, "I hope they're all right...", Johan, having lost all his cheerfulness, glared at Vincent and said "Don't think like that! Of course they'll be all right, Father's there!" (It was common knowledge throughout town that Johan adored his father and looked up to himas a hero) Vincent looking slightly re-assured by his brother's comment suddenly gasped, "Look! The doors been forced open!", and indeed it was and from the state it was in, itwas a miracle that it was still on its hinges. It's previouslypolishedappearance suddenly splintered and scorched and covered in cracks. As they rushed into the house, they noticed a strange battering ramwith a flaming headlying nearby and wisps of a strange vapor coming from inside the house. These strange objects only served to heigten their feeling of worry, and raised even more questions over what had happened.

However nothing outside the house could have prepared them for what awaited them inside.For though they feared that they would find their parents brutally murdered,for when they dashed in the house they found everything pristine and in its place, dinner in the stove, and the fireplace looking as if it had just gone out. The only thingsthat stood out were a strange cylinder lying on the floor, and the mysterious wisps of vapor that came from it. And then their saw their parents. In the chairs by the fireplace sat their parents, looking as if nothing were wrong and as if they might move at the slightest noise, in fact the only thing wrong was a mysterious needle fine marks upon both their necks, and to them it seemed as though their parent had been killed by some mysterious poison. Words can't express the sorrow they felt at seeing their parents so pristine and yet, to their eyes, so obviously dead, for they did not appear to breath. They had expected a slaughter, and had instead gotten a cruel mockery of their parent's life. They sat their, looking as if they did almostevery night before dinner, and looked as if they had been in the middle of waiting for their beloved children to return. As theboysapproached their parents, unable to belive that this could be happening,they realized at first to their joy and then despair, that their parentswere beathing, but so silently and weakly that even the slightest movement of the air might cover it up, and their eyes looked at their children, and were portals into a despair, sorrow, and fear that no person should possibly be able to bear.As Johan and Vincent tried to shake their parents into moving, they felt a heartbeat that was slowly weakening and would stop any second, killing their parents soon after. Suddenly, unbeknownst to the anguished boys, a hand came from the shadows to the side of the door and into the evennig light pouring in from a window. The hand was long, thin,and slightly claw-like, and looked as ifit might do some unspeakable horror to the next thing that itgot a hold of. As the boyswereweepingover their parents impending death, the hand started moving to the door with a slowness rivalingthatof a sloth. When the hand had made it halfway toward the door, theparent's hearts stopped, eliciting cries ofthe utmost sorrowfrom the boys. Then, Finally, the hand reached the door and suddenly slammed it shut with a speed that you would not have expected from its earliermovements, And a voice as cold and cruel as the fabled Siberian winter said in a polite tone, as if it was merelyaskingthe time of day "Is something the matter?"

End Chapter 1

Author Note: Well, tell me what you think of it please.