Eternal Evil that was old when Caeser Augustus conquered her ancestral
homeland; evil that slept the centuries of the Renaissance away in a cavern
in the Carpathian Alps. Evil that lives yet lives not, moves yet doesn't
breathe. She has awoken, and she hungers for the fresh blood of virgins!
She stalks the night, flitting from shadow to shadow in the moonlight. For
three nights she has risen, for three nights she has fed. Yet tonight the
streets are empty. Wait- there! There is a lone old man standing by the
corner. Not the richest of sources but it'll do. She floats towards him,
revealing tantalising details as her tiptoes tread lightly on the earth in
which she has recently slept.
But the "Old Man" is prepared! In these days of mobile phones and
aeroplanes, vampire hunters can travel to the ends of the earth between
sunset and sunrise.
He whips out the rude cross, symbol not of her pagan faith, but of his. The
creature cannot face it, cowers before it, screams and passes out as it
touches her cold flesh. When she regains her senses, she finds herself bound
to a table as the vampire hunter prepares her last rites.
She looks at her captor, all shyness and innocence. Why would anyone want to
tie up someone so sweet? Surely he doesn't think that she could have
anything to do with these disappearences on the streets? Why not come
closer, rescue her from her bonds?
The Old Man laughs at her, and not kindly.
She snarls an animal snarl, begins to fight the bonds. Supernatural strength
should rip the ropes to shreds... but they have been blessed. Her fingers
find the knots, but they have been sanctified. The old man has nearly
finished his preparations...
He approaches his supernatural captive, who writhes helplessly before him,
bound by chains of faith. He brings the stake to bear right over her heart.
She fights, begs, spits, snarls...
The hammer falls once. She convulses, her eyes fly open wide, then slowly
close. Her body relaxes into death once more. At dawn the body is buried in
But vampire hunters don't know all that they think they know. Growing a new
heart takes time. Gathering spread ashes from the winds taken aeons- but her
sister was burnt by the Hellenes at the fall of Troy and walks still. She
will wait, and heal, and rise again to feed on the old man's
great-great-great-grandchildren. It will just take time. But time is the one
thing she has beyond measure.