The Daywalker and the Boy-Who-Lived:
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Blade nor do I own the characters. No money is being earned, so please don't sue me.
This is my first crossover fic. Hope you like, review and tell me and I will continue. Sorry it took me so long to update, hopefully this one will be better.
Summary: Wandering alone in an unfamiliar part of town on a dark night is never a good idea. Especially with dark creatures stalking you, out for blood. Unfortunately, Harry learns this the hard way.
Warning: This story will contain violence, mature themes, sexual themes and possible slash.
I know I haven't updated for like ever on my other stories! I'm soooooo sorry! Forgive me! (Cries piteously) ;( I promise to update soon.
Read, Review. Tell me what you think. I don't like flames; however, I don't control you. If I did, I'd have a whole army of minions and I'd control all the wondrous minds that bring to us such things as movies and fiction! Just, constructive criticism please! If you like this and I get enough reviews, I'll continue this story. If not, maybe I'll do it just to spite you! ;)
Prologue:
It was one of those chilly nights, like all dark, freakishly creepy nights in places unknown usually are. The young boy shivered violently, that feeling was back. You know the one, chills creeping up and down your back, as though some dark storybook monster is about topounce on you and suck your soul out! He knew someone was following him. He just could never see who it was. He couldn't even catch the freak out of the corner of his eye.
Why had he not listened? He had been warned about this sort of thing. Of course he had! His mother was that sort. She was always worrying about things like mugging and robberies and murders. Especially the last few weeks, ever since that string of deaths here in London had popped up. Men, women, even children, popping up all over the place, dying from unknown reasons and their bodies ending up missing from the morgues. Gah, talk about crazy.
Everyone was worried, a curfew was issued in London and the out skirting villages and towns, no one allowed without an escort passed dark and everyone was to be inside at ten o'clock. People were panicked, but not him! No sir! He wasn't scared; at least not until now.
The shadows crept up on him…someone was there. Right next to him! Oh Lord, why hadn't he listened? Why? His breathing sped up, dizzy with fear and panting for breath, he began to run. Faster and faster, he pumped his legs to their full extent. Footsteps pounded behind him, louder and louder and louder…they echoed all around him. Cruel, harsh cackling laughter sounded around him, reaching his ears, while sobbing breaths passed through his gaping mouth. Closer…closer, they were almost upon him!
Strong, cruel hands reached out for him and gripped him in an awful hold. He screamed, for help, for mercy!
Oh Ghawd, Oh Ghawd. He prayed to a God he wasn't sure he even believed in. I don't want to die .Not like this, mom will freak. It'll be like Dad all over again. She won't be able to survive that again. Please God. I don't want to die! Please!
His screams choked off abruptly. A gurgling noise escaped his mouth as sharp teeth pierced his throat. The boy could feel his life leave him and prayed for someone, something so just let it end. It hurt so badly, oh so badly. Blackness came upon him…he let go. Thump. Thump…Thump…Thum…Thu...Th…u...mp…
He didn't live long enough to see the large black man stake the horrid beast of nightmares through his ribcage into a place where no human heart beat. He didn't see his murderer fall into ashes or see the look on the dark man's face as his own body was lit with with-like fire or see his own ashes float on a cool breeze. No, he didn't see any of this, because he was dead; mercifully spared a life of eternally hunting for life's blood.