Wolfeborn
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Jul 27, 2005
- Messages
- 106
Ok I have been working on this for a while and I think it's almost done. It is the prolougue from a novel I have been working on for ages, it could prob use a few tweaks here and there to make it feel just right, should hopefully have an excerpt from the main story comming soon, have to sort through my notes and get soemthing written. I think I may need to go and do some sort of online grammer course though. Any comments welcome as always, say what you think please.
Prologue
Prologue
Night the time that most cities sleep. In New Torvelle, night is when the city awakens. Gangs roam the streets; the main predators skulking in the shadows and hunting in packs. They wait for unsuspecting victims to wander by for them pounce upon. The police don’t rule this city; they barely manage to keep it on the brink of destruction. Smoke and fog fill the air, after years of industrial factories pumping filth into the night sky.
Glistening towers of the office blocks loom ominously over squalid buildings of the less fortunate in the city. Behind one such run down building an abandoned parking lot sits; burnt out cars and debris fill the gaps between burning oil cans. The least fortunate of this society make their dwellings in whatever cardboard or metal they can find. Every night, these unfortunates bear witness to the less than savoury activities of the local gangs; tonight is no different than any other.
Smoke swirls slowly up from the barrel of the gun; before pursed lips blow it into oblivion, like the soul of the man who has just been killed. A tall blonde with badly permed peroxide hair, stands over the limp body of her rival gang member. Her face is a mask of pleasure as the adrenaline of the hunt and the ecstasy of the kill course through her veins.
Holstering her gun she gives the body one last kick, causing one arm to flail out weirdly, coming to rest in an unnatural position, as her anger dissipates she realises its time to go. The echoes of a not too distant siren come to her heightened senses, and she turns to flee. A slight sense of wonder washes over her; as she realises there must still be people who care about what goes on in this city.
Sirens blare, seeming loader as they echo down the enclosed streets and alleyways; the woman heads off at a swift trot aiming for the low wall that spans between two buildings. The red and blue lights shimmer off the walls at the entrance to the car lot, tires screech and smoke pours from the tires as the car comes to a sudden halt. Two police officers leap from the vehicle and give chase to the woman; one of them stops to examine the recently deceased form as the other sprints off in pursuit.
Speeding up as she comes to the wall and planting one foot onto the rough bricks she leaps easily into the air, placing both her hands firmly on top of the wall deftly spinning through the air with a strange feline grace and agility, she hears the cop shout freeze as she falls to the other side landing easily on her feet and dropping to a crouch.
She looks up to see a dark shadowy figure emerge from further down the alley and slowly advance, at first she thinks it is another cop and curses herself for not moving more quickly, before noticing he is wearing a suit and tie, his long duffle coat hanging from broad shoulders.
“What’s a suit doing here at this time of night, geez what’s he doing here at all?”
The figure advances slowly and time seems to stand still, she goes to reach for her gun but a voice in her head urges her to wait, her hand slowly inches towards the handle of her Glock, she strains with the effort as though some great invisible hand is holding her back, as he advances closer he speaks
“There’s no need for that my dear, here let me help you up, perhaps we could talk a while?”
Just as she is about to tell him to get lost she looks into his eyes, so large and intimidating but with an odd softness to them. She feels herself falling into them, getting lost in those ivory pools; she longs to stay there for eternity.
Gently taking her by the shoulders, he reaches forward and takes her into his embrace. A strange sense of irony grips her as this is just such an act that got her previous victim killed, however the trust and bond she feels with this man knows no bounds: He is her greatest love, her best companion and she will do anything he wants. She tilts her head to the side to accommodate his caresses, reaching forward he softly kisses her cheek before moving down her neck, gently nibbling and caressing at first before opening his mouth and lunging forward. Sharp fangs puncture her delicate flesh, drawing a small line of blood that trickles down her throat; she panics, her breath coming in short sharp gasps. The pain is strangely familiar, a feeling she hasn’t felt in years; which sends shivers of pleasure and revulsion up her spine, in a myriad of emotions that threaten to engulf her. She begins to struggle, but only for a moment as the insidious numbing poison from his fangs work their way through her and she falls limp. He drinks from her deeply, gently caressing the nape of her neck, holding her upright before releasing her to slip away into nothingness.
The cop finally negotiates the wall, his bulk a hindrance to him, along with the fact that he is no longer a young man. As he struggles for purchase on the rough bricks, he sees a dark figure disappearing into the shadows. The cop shouts for him to stop whilst fumbling for his gun, beads of sweat form on his upper lip as he balances precariously on the wall. He steadies himself, blasting off several rounds in quick succession, then grinning in satisfaction, sure that he’s made his mark. The cop’s brow furrows in confusion as the figure continues on unabated, before vanishing into the early morning mist and smog that surrounds this area of the city.
Looking down he sees the slumped figure of the woman they were chasing, only a faint tinge of red on her collar betrays the fact that she isn’t sleeping. The cop Struggles over the wall drops clumsily to the floor with a crunch, quickly he checks for a pulse, at first weak and slow, then gradually it stops altogether. Although he has seen many dead bodies before, a shiver runs up his spine; there’s something different about this one. “Donny let the meat wagon know we got another casualty” he shouts before whispering “who in the hell was that guy?”
For centuries mankind has preyed on the weak
All the while a dark species has been waiting in the shadows
Waiting for their time to emerge and take our place at the top of the food chain
Once we were the predator
Now we are the Prey
On the
DARK STREETS
Waiting for their time to emerge and take our place at the top of the food chain
Once we were the predator
Now we are the Prey
On the
DARK STREETS
