A clap of thunder, a streak of lightning.
The moment of illumination, two silhouettes. The boy of about fifteen from the
hut by the edge of the village, the flit of emotion that flashed across his
face was one of naught but terror and regret as he saw the other. Not a dozen
feet away, a pair of fur covered feet, a shaggy muscular torso, sinew and veins
prominent against bare arms, inch-long fangs bared and dripping with thick,
gooey saliva, bloodshot eyes laced with the deepest venom focused on its prey,
the creature of legends, the nightmare of myths, the werewolf. The ominous
schick of point-sharp claws extending out of fingers, a muffled scream. And a
bloodcurdling howl pierced the pitch-black night.
Dawn. Three days later- DISCOVERY
Coughing, the old centenarian shuffled
slowly but surely, into the woods where his only grandson reportedly went to
gather firewood, just as to let his sick grandfather have a warm hearth. “The
filial little idiot,” he grumbled, worried for him. The winter storm had all
but erased the faintest tracks, which he was grateful for. He looked up, and a
pile of scattered firewood half covered with snow loomed into sight. He eagerly
trudged forward, only to behold the devastating find of a corpse,
frostbite-covered and ripped open, organs strewn all about. The severed head of
the pitiful boy stared at him with empty irises, several feet away. Collapsing,
the old man threw back his head and uttered a long, aching cry. And the woods
echoed with the sound of his loss.
Evening. The Witch’s Hut- DISCUSSION
“Resurface the werewolves have, a century
since we last fought them. All our ancestors, the cunning blade skills they
possess, all buried in tombs now, you are our only hope, you are the last of
the old ones, and now I beg you, please save us,” cried the village chieftain,
kneeling. In front of him, the aged spellcaster, the last of her kind leaned
heavily on her staff forward. “Living or dead, we will rise again to serve our
people, as we once have. Tonight the moon is full, and I will be at the height
of my powers. Rest assured, my chieftain.” “Our thanks to you, old one. I am
grateful.”With this, he bowed and left her ramshackle hut. As he left, he
caught a wicked curl of the witch’s lips. Frightened, he scrambled away. She
slowly opened her leathery eyelids, revealing a pair of yellow eyes. A wicked
glint of light flashed in them. “This will be fun…..”
Twilight. The Ancestral Graveyard-
CREATION
Crossed-legged in a ring of bone ashes,
her open eyes milky white, she chanted,“Rise, my siblings. Remember our
enemies, remember their bloodstains on your blades. By the power of the moon,
rise! Rise, and enhance shall be yours…” Silence. Suddenly, thirteen tombstones
cracked and split. The earth around the tombs shuddered, bulged and cracked.
The wind whistled past, and suddenly, like silent shadows, thirteen
figures stood by their tombs, pale skin devoid of blood glowing in the
moonlight, inch-long claws protruding from fingers, blades in hand, pointed
fangs and blood-red irises, the first vampires were created.
Her life force spent wholly on the spell,
the witch uttered with her dying breath, “ Thou be alive again, my brothers and
sisters, your souls I trapped back into your corpses. Sharp eyes of the eagle,
adamantine claws and venomous fangs I have bestowed upon thou. But beware, for
bodies of thou are but weak corpses. As such thou can only rise when the moon
is full, and consume blood thou must, to sustain body of thou. Hunt the
werewolves thou shall, till the end of time….” She shuddered once, convulsed,
and all was still.
Twilight. The Wild Woods- THE
ASSASSINATION
After burying their creator reverently in
an unmarked tomb, bloodthirst in their eyes, they set off to hunt. Their
ancient memories and feelings returned to them, and experience brought them to
the deeper part of the woods of Arcadia. The werewolves keen sense of smell
warned them not of the oncoming would-be-killers, but of the scent of corpses
in the woods. As such, they didn’t think twice about it. Knowing this, the
vampires used it to their advantage, moving through the woods like silent
assassins, they slew the newly resurfaced werewolf pack one by one. The cold
steel blades of theirs creating a stream of flowing blood in mere minutes.
Panicking, the few werewolves left retreated into the high reaches of the icy
mountains. Unrelentlessly, the vampires gave chase, determined to make them an
extinct species.
Unbeknownst to them, dawn approached and
the moon soon shrank into the night. Immediately, the vampires lost steam,
their power granted by the full moon exhausted. Realising this, the werewolves
backtracked and managed to kill four of them. Hastily lumbering off, both swore
revenge for their slain compatriots.
And so, the blood feud between werewolves
and vampires began. Both clans lived in hiding during day, battling it out
under cover of night, the hate for each other growing each passing day. Century
by century, their numbers have increased, waiting for the day that each can
avenge their kind. Without our knowing, both have infiltrated society, mingling
amongst humans and gathering intelligence.
Centuries have passed, the moon will be
aligned with the planets for the first time in aeons. The world will experience
the longest time of night, with the moon shining at its brightest. The
werewolves and vampires have become restless, the moon putting both species at
full strength. The vampires to finally fulfil the witch’s last will. The
werewolves to eradicate the vampire threat once and for all. It started with
the assassination. It will end here. Claws sliding out of fingers, fur
bristling with bloodthirst. Double-bladed swords sharpened, fangs bared. The
final stand for revenge, fur against fang. Which will persevere? The longest
night is about to begin….
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