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In the graveyard. - (Warning: Strong language) A cold wind slowly filled the night air. Tom looked around the graveyard to make sure no ...

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Old 28-12-06, 10:16 PM   #1 (permalink)
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In the graveyard.

(Warning: Strong language)



A cold wind slowly filled the night air. Tom looked around the graveyard to make sure no one was watching. He had lost quite a lot of gold in a recent poker game. Although, being a drug dealer, he had more than enough money to spare, he could never stand the thought of becoming ?less rich?, as he?d call it. Tom pushed the gate door, it slowly swinging open with a loud creek. He walked into the graveyard slowly, the snow crunching below his feet.

?Damn I?s cold?.? He muttered to himself. ?Hrm?? Tom looked around the graveyard, trying to pick the best target. ?Ah!? he walked over to one of the small buildings. He figured only the richest dead people got their own building, instead of just being tossed in a hole.

?Dammi??? Tom glared at the rusty lock. ?Well? ?ere goes nothin?!? he thought to himself as he started to pry at it with his rapier. The lock creaked loudly before something snapped, the lock coming undone and falling to the snow at the foot of the door. Tom grinned to himself. He was lucky whoever owned the place was so cheap about buying locks. ?Ugh?? Tom groaned to himself as he looked at his rapier, he had bent it some prying to lock off. ?Ah?ll ?ave to ge? tha? fixed, latar?? He said, pushing the door open. The door swung open, the hinges squeaky loudly. Tom shivered some, walking into the small crypt, the wooden planks creaking below him. Tom swung the door closed behind him with a loud thud.



?Time to salvage?? He grinned to himself, holding his torch high in the air to light the room. ?Hm?? He glanced back and forth between the different coffins, trying to pick the best target. ?Roit?? He moved over to a coffin in the corner. With a grunt, he shoved his rapier into the space between the coffin and the lid.

?Hrpmf!!? Tom pried the lid open slowly, the rusty nails popping out of place and the old wood cracking and creaking some. Once the opening was big enough, he reached down and grabbed the lid with both hands, forcing it open the rest of the way with his hands.

?Good thing this one is so damn old?? He grunted to himself, the last few nails breaking out of place on the splintering wood and the coffin lid falling aside. He knew he would have had to pry the nails off one at a time if it had been a new coffin.

?Wha? the?? Tom coughed loudly, a think gray fog started rolling out of the coffin. Tom took a step back slowly, the fog slowly settling to the floor. ?Is? is this normal??? He thought to himself. Judging from the coffin, it had to have been here for quite a long time, but he didn?t think corpses could turn to fog. He slowly took a step closer to the coffin, the blanket of fog covering the floor gently flowed around his moving footsteps.

The corpse was very pale, but oddly it didn?t seem to have rotted at all. It was a man, buried shirtless. Tom watched the corpse in almost a sort of fearful awe for a few moments, his heart was racing slightly. ?Maybe ah should jus? pu? the lid back on an? leave?? he thought to himself. The corpses eyes opened suddenly, a pair of light gray eyes started blankly at the ceiling.
?GAH!? Tom jumped back suddenly, his heart rate speeding up. He tripped and fell backward onto the floor, the fog rolling away from him as he hit the floor with a thud. He starred at the coffin with wide eyes.

A pale hand slowly rose from the coffin, the bonny fingers slowly wrapping around the edge of the coffin, one finger at a time. ?This canno? beh real?? Tom thought to himself, looking around the room frantically, as if desperate to find something that would make sense of all this. He looked back to the coffin. The ?corpse? was now standing upright in front of the coffin, starring at him, his entire frame completely still.



?Stay back!? Tom yelled drawing his flintlock pistol and firing it without hesitation. The loud shot echoed through the room, the entire room lighting up for just a brief moment as the gun went off. Tom panted lightly, the smoke from the gunshot slowly melding with the fog.

The corpse looked down at the bullet wound in his chest, before slowly looking back to Tom, its eyes glaring slightly, now.

??Oly shyte!? Tom yelled aloud, scrambling to his feet suddenly, and instantly making a break for the door. Tom shoved the door open as he ran past it, continuing his sprint for the graveyard gate. ?Shyte shyte SHYTE!? He yelled aloud in rhythm with his pounding footsteps, not knowing what else to say, still in disbelief that this whole thing was even happening. He tossed his torch aside into the snow, hoping it would allow him to run faster.

Tom tackled the gate door as he ran past it, it swung open all the way and crashed into the gate wall before swinging closed again with a creak.

?The inn?? He thought to himself, snow crunching loudly below his feet as he ran.

?Is I? following meh??? He thought to himself, afraid to turn around, afraid to stop. He ran faster as he saw the inn, luckily it wasn?t very far from the graveyard. He quickly ran around the side of the inn, a street a lantern was lighting the front door of the building.

Tom quickly yanked the door open, running inside and immediately heading for the hallway. Tom dug around in his pocket for his key as he ran for his room, stopping at the door and gripping the handle firmly. ?C?mon?? He thought to himself, taking the key out of his pocket and shoving it in the keyhole. He turned it quickly, yanking the key back out and dashing inside, slamming the door behind him. Without hesitation, he put the key back in the hole again, locking the door, and not bothering to take the key back out of the hole. Tom let out a slow sigh, his heart hadn?t beat this fast in years.



?Bloodeh ?ell?? he said aloud as he rested his head against the door with a thud. He closed his eyes slowly, he was still panting lightly from the run over here. Tom knew there were undead in that graveyard, but he had never seen one like that before. It had somehow kept itself from rotting, other than pale skin and a skinny figure. He also had a strong theory of: ?If you shoo? somethin? an? I? doesn? go down, RUN!?.

Tom sighed lightly, slowly turning around and opening his eyes.



He couldn?t believe it? there it was? right there, standing right in front of him.

The creature reached out, grabbing his tunic and yanking Tom forward with more strength than his skinny figure should allow. Before Tom could react, the creature bared its fangs, biting down into Tom?s neck. Its fangs easily ripped through the thin leather of his gorget and pieced the skin of his neck.

Tom?s eye widened, paralyzed in fear. The creature pressed its lips to the bite marks, eagerly sucking blood as it flowed out of Tom?s neck and through the holes of the gorget.

?Is? is this I???? Tom thought to himself. ?Am ah goin? to die???. His eyes slowly closed, the room slowly blurring and then fading into darkness as his eyes heavily shut.

The next morning


?Ugh?.? Tom groaned to himself. Slowly sitting upright. He looked around the room. He was at the inn. It was morning; sun was shinning in through the window. ?Wha? the ?ell ?appened?? Tom said aloud. Tom closed his eyes slowly, searching for memories of last night and how he got to the inn. ?Ah must?ve go? drunk an? passed ou? on the floor?? He muttered. ??again?.

Tom rubbed his neck slowly. He felt weak. ?Wha? the??? He felt two holes on his gorget. He curiously loosened it some and felt underneath. There were no bite marks or visible wounds under the holes in the gorget.
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Old 28-12-06, 10:44 PM   #2 (permalink)
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Marcus? eyes opened widely, drinking the blood eagerly as it flowed into his mouth. The hunger inside him slowly settled, the heat welling up inside him and flowing through his veins again. His eyes returned to their normal dark blue color.

Marcus released the Tom, the old pirate falling to the floor with a thud. ?If I take anymore it might kill him?? Marcus thought to himself. ?And I suppose I owe him for waking me up? He wont remember any of this, anyways? few victims do??

Marcus lifted one of his hands slowly, turning it from side to side and watching it intently. The color was starting to return, and he no longer looked so skinny. He skin was always pale, like most vampires, but at least he no longer looked like death.

Marcus closed his eyes slowly, focusing. He winced slightly as some blood flowed from the wound in his chest. His muscles slowly forced the bullet out of his chest. The tiny metal ball fell to the floor, hitting the floorboard with a quiet thud then slowly rolling across the floor. Marcus relaxed slowly, the bullet wound in his chest slowly closing itself.

Marcus looked down at where the bullet wound once was. ?Well? I certainly can?t go out looking like this?? He said, looking to his lack of clothes above the waist. Shadows from around the room slowly pulled themselves toward Marcus. He slowed rose the darkness around him and wrapped it around himself. The shadows slowly started to take physical form, turning to dark hued clothes and armor over Marcus? body.

?Time to see how long it?s been?? Marcus said to himself. He idly stepped over Tom?s unconscious body and walked out the door, his footsteps completely silent against the wood floor.


---------------------------------------------------

?I think it was this way?? Marcus said to himself, heading for the forest surrounding Vesper. ?Ma?am?? He nodded to a woman politely as he walked past her, his footsteps making noise now to avoid suspicion. The women smiled some and they continued to walk in their separate directions.

Marcus walked into the forest, vanishing into the shadows from the trees. ?Where was it??? He thought to himself. His footsteps were leaving no prints in the snow. Marcus looked from left to right slowly. ?The terrain has changed so much?? He thought to himself. ?This way, I think?? He turned left and slowly walked deeper into the forest.


----------------------------------------------------

?Ah? there you are?? He said. He looked up at the tree slowly. He had planted it here because the near by boulder made a reliable landmark. It was unlikely to be moved or broken down by time. He placed his hand on the tree gently. ?Its time, my old friend??

Marcus had made the mistake of being too social. He had been warned that it was unwise to become too friendly with the mortals. Vampires should socialize with other vampires, and only use the mortals for food. This was what he was taught, but he wouldn?t listen. As years went on, Marcus made many friends. Too many. As years come and went, they started to notice that Marcus stayed young, as they grew older. At first he said he had some elven heritage, but without pointed ears, it was a hoax he could only manage for so long. Although it pained him, he had to leave everything behind. He went into a deep sleep in that graveyard so that when he woke up, everyone who knew him, who had seen him grow older but never age, would be dead.

Sadly, Marcus knew he could never bring himself to cut himself off from society entirely. He would introduce himself to new mortals, become acquainted, and have to go to sleep all over again, just to protect his identity as a vampire. He would hopefully have about ten or fifteen years before people started to ask questions again.

The tree cracked and groaned loudly, collapsing to the ground, white powder blasting into the air as the tree smashed into the snow. It had taken quite some time, but Marcus had finally managed to split the tree in half at the trunk as he thought about memorizes from long ago. ?Didn?t take as long as I thought it would?? Marcus thought to himself. He remembered his sire mentioning something about vampires growing more powerful with age.

Marcus leaned over the truck slowly. Counting the rings with some difficulty due to the jagged rifts left from the manner of how the tree was torn down. ?About eighty years?? He thought to himself. He thought about his sire. ?I wonder if the old man is still ?alive???. Marcus closed his eyes slowly. Trying to see if he could still feel a blood bond between himself and his sire. No. If he could not feel the bond, it meant his sire was either dead now, or possibly in an even deeper, long intended ?nap? than Marcus was in.

?I guess that makes me the oldest ?living? Lasombra, now?? He thought to himself. ?That means its up to me to keep the clan going?? He slowly walked in a random direction.

?First things first? I?ll need to see if I can find any other vampires, and see what the ?rules? are, these days??
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