Gird thy soul, intrepid reader, for the path that lies ahead is fraught with shadows and dread. A harrowing odyssey into the heart of darkness awaits, where malevolent forces and eldritch horrors converge. The veil between worlds is thin, and the night's terrors shall writhe and stir. Amidst the fog of the unknown, a blood-stained tale of vengeance and haunting legacies unfurls. In this somber world, the Wolfe Family lineage stands as a beacon of hope, yet shrouded in a legacy steeped in tragedy and triumph. Take heed, for the cursed echoes of the past reverberate through the ages, and in the face of unfathomable horror, only the bravest hearts may endure. Venture forth, brave souls, for the blood moon beckons, and destiny's dance commences upon a stage where the light of day dares not tread. Embrace the darkness, for it is in shadows that true valor shall be revealed."
It was past midnight when they came, marking the beginning of a fresh nightmare for the girl. She'd finally prepared herself for sleep when she felt their presence, all beginning with a severe chill up her spine and her breath turning to mist, despite the heat of the alchemical lantern by her bedside.
Lilith could hear the shouts of men and women alike outside, the girl approaching a nearby window to see the townspeople taking up arms. Hunters, soldiers, mercenaries all. Each of them armed with silver blades, silver hammers and clubs, blades of all shapes and sizes as they prepared for war.
Just then, the bedroom door opened, and a woman with dark skin and snow-white hair entered. Despite her face being decorated in scars, her missing left eye concealed by a black patch of leather, she still possessed an unearthly beauty that betrayed the savage warrior behind it all.
"Mother, are we under attack? What's happening?"
The girl fell silent as the huntress kneeled down, her single gray eye burning with worry.
"She's come for me, little one. And if she has come for me, then she has no doubt come to claim your soul as well. And this, I will not allow. Not my daughter."
The older huntress ushered the girl into the next room, grabbing hold of the crimson rug adorned with their family crest; a beautifully intricate design displaying a sword and shield, the blade burning with holy light. Lilith's mother tosses the rug to the side revealing a hatch. Grabbing its handle, she pulled it open, revealing a crawlspace with a single chest and an unlit lantern.
"Hide here until I return. And if I don't—"
"Do not speak that way, mother!" The girl chided, crimson eyes wide and fists clenched.
"You've returned from every battle before. This is no different!"
The older woman sighed.
"Every hunter knows that each battle could be his last. This is no exception. I will do my best to return to you. But if I fail, then you must return home. The Wolfe House is the one place where you'll be safe from nearly all harm."
Lilith's mother gestured to the hiding place beneath the floor.
"Now. Under the floor." She commanded.
The girl did not say another word as she did as she was told.
The hatch above her closed, and the rug was placed above it once more, plunging the girl into total blackness. She listened carefully as her mother's footsteps trailed away and out the front door, back into the harsh winter's night and into a dangerous battle against an unknown enemy.
Next, came the sounds of chaos.
The battle was violent, to say the least. There were the shouts of men and the wails of beast. There were the screams of men being torn apart and the shrieks of unholy beasts meeting a bloody end. The earth shook as explosions sounded from up above. No doubt the firebombs capable of melting the flesh from the toughest of hides.
The battle raged on for what felt like an eternity for the young girl, but finally, sitting in the pitch blackness, did silence come. Only, something was different. Something wrong. The girl felt her way around the crawlspace, feeling her way up and along the walls to find where the hatch could be opened from below.
She paused for but a moment, remembering her mother's order to wait until her return. And so Lilith waited with baited breath, but her mother did not come. So, she opened the hatch, pushing the rug out of the way, remaining crouched as the pale moonlight piercing through a nearby window burned her eyes after her time in the pitch black crawlspace. She approached the window and took a peek, only for her stomach to drop at what she saw.
Though a small town, the main street was now in ruins. Corpses lay in the street, both man and beast, but of men she'd known for most of her twelve years of life. She spotted Gideon Thorne, a young hunter in training who had joined their traveling hunter's party this past Spring. His left arm had been severed and something had taken a large bite out of his neck, his body visibly drained of blood. There was Arthur Blackwood, an older hunter who was fond of smoking, now torn to shreds with his head having been unmercifully torn from his body. And in the town square, beaten and tied to a makeshift pyre was...
"Mother..."
She was surrounded by a group of men and women, but Lilith knew better. Their skin was pale as death, eyes glowing, their claws and lips stained red with murder. However, one stood taller than the others. She was clad in the most beautiful dress Lilith had ever seen, perfectly form fitting and the color of blood, the intricate patterns woven into the fabric resembling a mass of writhing veins. She stood with her hands clasped together, seemingly in prayer, gazing up at the girl's mother as the huntress simply glared at her.
This woman, no, this abomination, spoke with a voice of poisoned honey, seductive yet dangerous, hiding behind a veil of innocence, despite her own lips being stained with the blood of her victims.
"Nothing to say, Aurelia?"
Lilith's mother, bound to the pyre, spits into the vampire's face.
"Ah, I see. You truly are a Wolfe. Vulgar to the end. Be that as it may, you do deserve some modicum of credit. You fought beautifully. You even managed to slay six of my cohorts. An impressive feat for a mortal. It's unfortunate that your story ends here. It would have been an honor to have you fight by my side once. But you took something from me. Someone I held dear. And where I come from, my dear, we have a tradition. A blood payment. I shall take from you what you have taken from me."
The huntress smiled, her head cocked to the side as she looked this monstrosity in the eyes. Despite everything and everyone she'd lost, there was one thing that the vampires could never steal from her.
"I find it funny that you mention blood payments. Understand, my family shares that same tradition. So I suggest you listen, you unholy bitch. My death changes nothing, as I've already won. You think yourself invincible in your wretched existence. But remember this, Morgana Levesque: even as I am now, I have nothing to fear. We are the true hunters, and you are nothing more than our prey."
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The vampiric queen's mask of pleasure shattered that very moment. Her face contorted into an expression of rage, turning her back to the doomed huntress before snapping her fingers.
"I have heard enough of your nonsense!" She snapped.
The vampire glanced at her subordinates, giving them a nod.
"The time has come. Let the flames take her."
The vampires thralls raised their torches and tossed them to the base of the pyre, the kindling at Aurelia's feet catching fire and growing into a raging inferno.
Lilith remained in the house, surrounded by the corpses of those she had come to know, and watched in horror as her mother was consumed by the very same flames used to cleanse the world of the vampires that saw them as nothing but cattle. As the flames consumed her mother, as flesh was reduced to ash, Lilith solemnly swore, behind tearful eyes and clenched fists, that she would someday taste vengeance. And there was no force in this godforsaken world that would stop her.
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The chest in the crawlspace was meant for Lilith, it would seem. Before venturing out into the ruined town, she opened it to discover a simple long coat for the harsh winter air, a fresh pair of boots, and a leather satchel that contained provisions for travel and a fourteen inch silver dagger.
When she ventured out of the house and into the night, the snow had already begun to fall, the wind whipping at her coattails as she took a breath only to regret it immediately. The smell of blood was thick in the air, despite the vampire's feast from earlier. Lilith steeled herself and proceeded to walk to the town square, past the fresh corpses of those she 'd traveled with, spoke to, and eaten with. She tried not to look into the lifeless eyes of Gideon Thorne as she passed his mutilated body, looking instead to the still smoldering pile of ash and bone that Lilith once called mother.
The girl sank to her knees, pulling forth a leather pouch from her satchel before hesitating, a wave of nausea overcoming her as she sways from side to side. Buried in the pile of ashes and bones is Aurelia's blackened skull. As the hundreds of memories spent with her mother rise to the surface of her mind, the girl's eyes begin to glow. She took the skull into her arms, holding her mother close as fresh tears ran down her cheeks, failing to notice the changes in her body. Her teeth elongated into fangs, ornate ink spread across her arms, chest and back, as though an unseen master of ink work had turned her body into their own tapestry. As the girl held the skull close to her chest, she released an anguished scream as the wind began to howl, the snowfall increasing in intensity.
Then came the dead.
The corpses around her had begun to stir. Small twitches at first, but then they slowly rise to their feet. Young Gideon Thorne had risen to his feet, his eyes gaunt and glowing with an ominous yellow light. There was no humanity left of him. The thing that had once aspired to be a hunter stooped low, grabbing its broken sword from the snow covered street and began to approach the girl, still kneeling by the remains of her mother.
"Get back." Lilith's voice was nothing more than a whisper as the living corpses continued their approach. Her hands shook violently, her breathing increasing as her tears became those of blood, heat pooling in her chest as she slowly placed the skull back into the ash pile.
"Get. Back."
Her voice took on a low guttural growl, drawing the dagger from within her satchel before glaring at the newly risen undead approaching her.
"I'll kill you, for what you've taken from me."
Her vision turned red and her blood became fire. The girl snarled, failing to notice the ethereal blue flames enveloping her body as she charged forward, dagger raised high as a primal rage consumed her.
The corpse of Gideon was the first to feel her wrath. The thing had raised its sword and swung but the girl dipped low. She viciously grabbed hold of his arm and tore it from its socket, plunging the blade into his heart, the undead flesh hissing as the silver pierced it. It was as she tore the blade free from her old friend's chest did the beast within truly awaken.
Lilith charged the next corpse, her dagger an extension of her body as she parried an overhead strike from its sword and hacked off his sword-arm at the elbow, thrusting the blade into its heart before wrenching it free and plunging it once, twice, into its eyes. The little girl that had only ever been trained in combat, who had never drawn blood, was gone. Now, a feral beast, cleaving hearts in two, tearing limbs from bodies, laughing maniacally as she twisted and pulled heads from bodies. She ran through the desolate streets, the dagger in her hand a tool of destruction as she murdered each of the reanimated corpses in equally brutal fashion.
This continued for hours upon hours, until the sun began its steady rise over the horizon. As its gold light kissed the sky, the corpses still standing erupted into flames. Their flesh erupted into flames and they released unearthly wails of agony as they were consumed by the fire. As Lilith stood there, covered in snow and gore, her rage died. Her arms and legs became heavy as the weapons she'd used to help her mother once carry. Still, her mind blank, she marched back toward the town square and back to her mother's remains. Lilith crushed the remnants of bones, carefully gathering the ashes into a leather pouch before stowing it away in her satchel.
There was no telling how long she walked. Amid the howling winds and biting cold, Lilith trudged through the unforgiving winter roads, her breath forming clouds of frost in the air. Her heart bounded in her chest, a cocktail of adrenaline and fear coursing through her veins. As she passed through snow-blanketed forests, stretches of abandoned farmland, and past rivers of ice, she failed to make sense of what had happened back in town. Something had awakened within her, and now everything was different. She could feel the fangs in her mouth, see the intricate tattoos on her arms that hadn't been there before. Her senses were even sharper than they ever had been before. Then there was the way in which she'd slain those undead. The girl had only ever sparred with her mother and the other hunters in their party. But never had she'd ever fought like that...like a savage beast.
As she trudged through the growing snow, the howls of distant wolves mingled with the mournful wind, sending shivers down her spine. As the sun dipped below the horizon, her fears only grew. With each shadow that danced in the pale moonlight, she found herself startled by a sudden crackle of light. The blue flames that had consumed her within the town would come to life in small bursts from her skin, the source of it all being the mysterious ink upon her flesh. The flames were otherworldly, and they did frighten her, but as she traveled those lonely dead roads, they became a source of comfort.
The flames brought no pain, nor did they burn her clothes. The flames themselves seemed to obey laws all their own, with their only master being the girl to whom they belonged. Once along the journey, she drew her dagger and simply stared into the blade's surface only to be met by the visage of a girl with glowing crimson eyes. Regardless, the glow of her eyes and the faint ethereal wisps emanating from her hands were haunting reminder that she was not truly human.
Clutching the satchel close to he chest, her provisions having run dry, she clutched her satchel close to her chest and marched on. Each step felt like an eternity, her boots sinking into the frozen ground with every stride. The girl was weary, her muscles ached, and the will to lay down in the snow to rest became ever more overwhelming. Lilith knew better, of course. All travelers knew that a simple rest in the snow would allow death to claim them as easy prey. Mustering up whatever strength she had left, she pressed on.
Lilith had few memories of the Wolfe House. She'd been born there, yes, but her mother departed and taken the girl along with a traveling band of hunters at the age of five. In spite of this, Aurelia Wolfe had taught the girl how to wield a sword, the basics of survival, and how to find her way back to the Wolfe homestead for years on end. The girl knew the lay of the land, but that didn't make her journey easier.
Time ceased to exist as she crested a hill and finally saw it. Bathed in moonlight, Lilith Wolfe sank to her knees in the snow as she spotted the massive mansion nestled at the base of a snow-capped mountain, surrounded by an impressive wall accompanied by guard towers illuminated by large braziers.
The girl could see the figures of people, living people, going about their business within the walls. Lilith rose on shaking knees, and began her descent down the hill, through a field of snow that was knee deep before finding the main road, falling face first into the wintry mix of mud and snow.
"Oi! I see something out there!" A voice shouted from within the walls. An alarm blared from within the walls, echoing throughout the valley as the wrought iron main gate opened, and men and women on horses, armed to the teeth rode out to meet her. Lilith remained unmoving, no energy left even to roll over and look at the newcomers.
"She's just a child..." Came a feminine voice.
"The poor thing is near frozen to death..." Came a gravelly, much older voice.
Lilith didn't fight back as she was lifted out of the mud and was loaded onto one of the horses, her rescuer holding her tightly as they rode back behind the walls of the homestead, the girl losing consciousness as the wrought iron gate was sealed behind them.