Tag: Victoria Frost

  • Shadows and Echoes – Part IV

    Victoria stepped over the doorman, before making her way to the front door. Just ahead, Evelyn’s footsteps echoed when her heels made contact with the hardwood floors.

    In that moment, Victoria was happy, content with the world and the part she was to play in it. She had a guide, confidant, and friend in Evelyn, a woman that saw great potential in her, something that no one else had ever seen before.

    “Could this moment get any better?” Victoria whispered.

    As though the gods themselves decided to intervene, the scene’s mood changed for the worse. The power cut out, which plunged them into twilight and awoke a fresh set of senses.

    As a mortal, she would have been blind as a bat, but now the world retained a level of detail. To the unaccustomed, her night vision was more like seeing the world represented in a series of blueprints. She saw the outlines of objects and structures, but none of the finer details were present.

    Her hearing had also been enhanced. She heard the compressor in her refrigerator slowing down and had no trouble picking up a deluge of boots stomping up the stairs. At first, the sounds were distant, but they grew in intensity until they were just outside the door.

    “Is that their heart—,” Victoria wondered before a loud thump flooded her senses.

    The sound forced Victoria to cover her ears in response. To the uninitiated, it was comparable to an explosive charge going off nearby.

    Evelyn had no such concerns. Her years of experience taught her to control these heightened senses. Victoria watched the vampire advance at a frightening pace. Her elder knew exactly what was going on, the extent of the incursion, and how much trouble they were in.

    “Run!” Evelyn exclaimed just as a second impact struck the door.

    The shock from the impact caused the door to splinter around the securing mechanism. As the door swung open, the elder ran past the opening with claws extended. Victoria was confused, unsure of what was going on. That second impact left her stunned, her mind muddled, and choices unclear in the midst of so much chaos.

    “Freeze!” the team leader ordered.

    The word hung in the air, like an opera singer holding a note for as long as possible. Victoria opened her eyes just in time to witness Evelyn take the offensive.

    Ahead of the man who barked out orders, there were four others holding a battering ram. The lot of them were dressed in black, wearing night vision goggles, and their heads were adorned with combat helmets. Her night vision did not allow her to see the word SWAT printed on their tactical vests, but she could guess that much.

    Evelyn reached out for the first man on her left. Her claws ripped through the light fabric around his neck and dug into the flesh around his larynx. She then used him as a pivot to propel her knee into the face of the man on her right. That impact drove the night vision goggles into the man’s forehead and tore out the larynx of her first victim.

    With the grace of a dancer, Evelyn straddled the battering ram as it fell towards the floor. Since the last two men were still holding onto the heavy implement, she grabbed the forward handles and waited.

    As soon as her feet touched the floor, she gave it her all. Her strength easily propelled the battering ram away from her and towards what remained of the unsuspecting team. The ram, now a missile, flew towards the team leader and broke the wrists of those who held on.

    By then, Victoria had managed to regain a modicum of coherence, just in time to witness blood gushing out in spurts, while the other man just dropped to his knees and toppled forward like a log.

    The battering ram impacted the team leader’s chest. Even from this distance, Victoria heard the aramid liner stretch and strain, followed by the sound of breaking bones. With her heightened hearing, each break sounded like a branch snapping under strain.

    “Run!” Evelyn screamed.

    The elder swung her clawed hand at the closest man’s leg and severed the femoral artery. Without time to watch her handiwork, she turned towards the fourth man. She sprinted towards him, buried her hands into his midsection and grabbed onto his ribs. The elder pushed through the wall, disappearing behind a cloud of plaster, dust, and splinters. Once she breached the wall, she sent her shield flying towards another team who had their guns at the ready. The sound of shattering bone and ruptured organs made Victoria sick to her stomach.

    Evelyn turned around to face the next wave of assailants, but they anticipated her move. Before her chest was aligned with the group, there came a loud percussive bang. There were limits to maintaining her heightened speeds for long. Had she fed recently, she might have been able to dodge the attack. Instead, the bean bag struck her in the centre of mass, crumpling her midsection as her body absorbed the shock.

    Undeterred, Evelyn bared her fangs. The remnants of this team were not about to lose the initiative, so a spent shell casing sprung through the air while another round was chambered.

    Evelyn pushed away from the wall just in time to take a slug to the shoulder followed by small arms fire that perforated her chest. Even though the individual shots were having little effect, it was clear the combined trauma was slowing her down.

    Victoria witnessed Evelyn hit the wall hard before slumping to the floor. While the team advanced, they maintained a steady stream of fire, never giving this predator the opportunity to renew her attack.

    In that moment, Victoria decided to run. She began to walk backwards, then pivoted into a run while heading towards the master bedroom. From here, she saw the narrow alley and a neighbour’s window across the divide.

    It happened so fast, that her mind barely registered what had happened. She only had a vague recollection of hearing glass breaking in quick succession followed by hitting a wall head first. Then, just like that, the world faded to black.

    Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!

  • Leather and Lipstick – Part V

    Victoria opened her eyes and saw the perfectly flat surface of the marble floor. Every part of her body ached and even her hair hurt. She struggled to come to terms with the mechanics of that concept.

    The Van Helsing Resurgence - Saturday Scenes

    Despite being in pain, she managed to peel herself from the floor. In that moment, every single muscle in her body screamed out in agony. Funny that when faced with a great deal of pain, concerns over her hair no longer mattered.

    “Where am I?” Victoria asked.

    Memories of her recent escape bled back into her conscious mind. With that came the realisation that she was still at the chapel of horrors.

    “Oh fuck me!” Victoria whined in desperation.

    With a bit more effort, Victoria managed to gain a solid footing. Her feet were unsure of themselves, which left her wobbling, but she persisted until her balance steadied.

    The first few steps were daunting, nonetheless she grew more confident. It was enough to grant her some freedom of movement, and look for an exit.

    Despite the atrocities depicted in the stained glass works commemorating sin and murder in frightening detail, this place was quite beautifully designed: marble walls, supported by Corinthian columns, all adorned with gold. This chapel had a decidedly Art Deco style, one that seemed more authentic than current facsimiles.

    Her eyes ran over every visible surface, and yet, she was no further ahead in finding an exit. Once she shifted her footing, her eyes caught a glimpse of a landmark behind one of the columns. Victoria strained her neck to spot golden doors, and approached carefully. It seemed appropriate to assume there were traps.

    “Come on Vicky,” Victoria said to calm herself. “Don’t let your imagination get the better of you.”

    There was a golden button located at the side of the door and she gasped when she got a better view. The door was meticulously engraved in solid gold; a relief depicting a scene from Dante’s Inferno gleamed in the artificial light.

    She pressed the button, half-expecting a trap door to drop out from beneath her. Instead, a pleasant chime rang throughout the chapel, as the doors parted.

    Without hesitation, she stepped inside, then searched for a control panel only to find there was none. Either this elevator was programmed based on the identity of the passenger, or there was only one stop.

    “Only one way to—,” Victoria said.

    Her knees nearly gave out when it began its high speed ascent. In a panic, Victoria grabbed onto a golden rail with enough strength, that her knuckles were white.

    There were no dials nor displays visible in the elevator car. It appeared that she was just expected to enjoy the ride. In her current state, this experience was anything but pleasant leaving her to wonder how long this moment would last. The answer came when the elevator came to a complete stop. Once the doors opened, Victoria was faced with a change of scenery.

    Had Victoria’s mind not been on the verge of exhaustion, she would have been enraptured by the beauty of it all. She knew of the existence of abandoned subway stations underneath the city, those left behind when new lines came into service or once stations no longer served a purpose.

    Never in her life did she expect to be standing in one, let alone one so beautifully maintained. Every tile was in place and the grout was an immaculate white, a miracle since the floor tiles had to see some foot traffic from time to time.

    As Victoria stepped away, the elevator’s doors slid shut. Dead ahead, there was a subway car of modern design, which lit up when she approached. Just her luck, the doors were open.

    Now she was curious because this all seemed to be far too convenient. Victoria walked up to the platform’s edge, looked down the line at both ends, and saw nothing suspicious. The steel tracks shone in the station’s light and from the looks of this car, this was operational line, although clarity on serviceability of the line at its destination and where that happened to be was a different matter.

    She turned around to look for clues. Victoria remembered that most stations had a map to direct visitors. Then again, elevators also had panels to indicate what the elevator was up to.

    “This is getting tedious,” Victoria said with an exasperated sigh.

    Unable to come up with another option, Victoria stepped through the open door of the car. This was her first time being in a subway car fitted with leather seats or one lined with mahogany and brass.

    “Not exactly what you’d find on the blue line,” Victoria remarked. “So what now?”

    As her question rang out into the train, the door closed behind her, and the car lunged forward. Victoria reached for one of the seats and sat down. It should not have been a surprise that this contraption was also automated.

    Out back, a series of lights appeared, a fresh car activated to replace this one. Victoria watched in awe, barely able to imagine the expenses associated with running such a system. As the train moved on, the somniferous clickety-clack of the tracks embraced her mind. Soon, Victoria was sound asleep. Meanwhile, back at the station, a slick trail of blood led directly to the platform’s edge.

    Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!

  • Morpheus’ Embrace – Part III

    Victoria’s eyes fluttered open, but felt there was resistance with every motion. Her senses were numbed, as though she were under constant pressure. For a moment, her mind conjured the image of being cocooned in bundles of warm and thick blankets. While the thought was nice, she quickly dismissed the idea as being far too hopeful.

    The Van Helsing Resurgence - Saturday Scenes

    “If only life were that simple,” Victoria thought.

    Her mind quickly focused on the complete absence of light, which corrupted that thought until she imagined herself being buried alive. Victoria wondered if that explained the humidity clinging to her skin, but that analogy did not align either. Her experience was more akin to being immersed.

    “Hello?” Victoria tried to ask, but no sound came out.

    Victoria sat up as fast as she could, and learned how this viscous liquid also hindered her rate of motion. Since there was nothing to see, she swept her arms all around, but came up empty. Although, she did find out that the floor had the consistency of sand, but wondered how that tidbit of information would prove useful.

    “Why are my lungs not burning?” Victoria thought.

    That idea opened a crack in her mind, enough for a panic to seep in, she hyperventilated which in turn filled her lungs with more fluid. Wait! What? How? Her mind struggled to come to terms with this new reality. Whatever the gravity of her situation, breathing was no longer a concern for her, or at least for now.

    With renewed conviction, she got onto her knees and confirmed there was clearance before standing upright. When another search came up empty, she ventured up ahead.

    Eventually, she encountered a flat surface, so her hands ran over the rough texture, to find gaps between the quarried stones. Victoria followed the surface, and realised this wall formed a circle, one filled with something thicker than water. It did not take much after that to hazard a guess. So that meant she was at the bottom of that well?

    If that’s where she was, then that scene with Evelyn had been nothing more than a dream. Either way, that insight did nothing to explain her predicament.

    “Unless—,” Victoria attempted to say once again, but to no avail.

    The viscosity of the fluid made it impossible for her vocal cords to resonate. Hence the silence, which left her to wonder what would happen to her if she remained down here in absolute solitude.

    To confirm her whereabouts, Victoria looked up. Sure enough, there was a faint source of light, and from this vantage point, it looked like a single red star lighting up the dim sky. Again, how would this help her get out of this mess.

    “How long—How do I—Can I climb—” Victoria’s chaotic mind wondered.

    Such questions were cycling through her mind so fast, that it prevented her from focusing on a single task. Once again panic took hold, and invaded every corner of her being, until it consumed her.

    Victoria screamed, her noiseless act of defiance somehow created a protective barrier that kept the conflicting voices in her mind at bay. As she let out all of that frustration, fear and doubt melted away, until all that remained, was raw untapped determination.

    She poked and prodded the walls of her cell, and found the spaces were wide enough to get a good grip. It may not have been enough to climb a steep cliff, but when supported by a liquid that imbued her with some additional buoyancy, the conditions for an ascent were suddenly favourable.

    Her first attempt caused her fingers to radiate in pain. Victoria had forgotten how her failed attempt to arrest that descent had torn off her fingernails.

    It was ultimately that maelstrom of thoughts and emotions that permitted her pain to return, which in turn caused her to tumble down. The slow descent into the soft sand may have left her no worse for wear, but in her mind, the pain brought on was on par with running into a wall. With a silent grunt she got off her rump and attempted another ascent.

    With every attempt, the damage to her fingers grew worse, until it blinded all other stimulus. The pain served to focus her, to drive her, but she was also motivated by fear of losing her sanity, if she stayed down here for long. How could anyone keep it together, when under the exclusive company of their thoughts?

    Writers were normally content to be left alone. Free to find inspiration in mundane occurrences, like a sunrise, moments that the bulk of humanity took for granted. But to remain alone in the dark, summarily deprived of the bulk of her senses? There were limits to creativity, times when the wellspring of inspiration would run dry, and left behind a world bereft of ideas.

    Condemned to suffer like that for all of eternity, Victoria could think of only one word that fit, “Hell.”

    After countless attempts and hours wasted, Victoria’s hand pierced the pool’s surface. The cool air made her skin tingle, the first positive sensation she experienced since her awakening.

    Excitement welled inside her, and that grew in intensity once she dragged her tired body out from the pool. While there were no mirrors in this perverted chapel, Victoria imagined herself looking very much like Carrie did during her graduation ceremony.

    It took all of her strength to lift her remaining leg from out of the pool. Victoria had the strangest feeling that the pool was holding her. So much so, that she needed to expend what was left of her sheer force of will to tear herself from it.

    “Well—,” Victoria tried to say, but only managed to spew out fluid from her lungs.

    Victoria got on her hands and knees just in time to convulse. Every muscle in her core contracted and relaxed at a fantastical rate. With every wave, a stream of fluid was evacuated until she was able to take her first deep breath.

    She looked up towards the stunning fresco that covered the ceiling as tears streamed down her cheeks from all that pain and exertion. For a second, she saw a crescent moon overlooking the crucified body of Christ. Her mind, instead focused on the stale humid air filled with death instead, despite the poor air quality, the pleasure of breathing air once more was nothing short of rapturous.

    Alas, with her first deep breath came a coughing fit, all in an effort to clear out any remaining pockets of fluid. These coughs were so violent, that her vision was marred by streaks, and every fit sapped her strength until she was no longer able to move.

    In tears, and beyond the point of exhaustion her body gave up. Before her vision blurred, and faded to black, she caught sight of a passage etched at the edges of the ceiling.

    “Fides dominaretur super oram chlamydis Saul,” Victoria whispered.

    The words meant nothing to her, but once unconscious, her lips moved to the following phrase, “Faith shall dominate the usurper.”

    Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!

  • Morpheus’ Embrace – Part II

    “All done!” Victoria exclaimed

    She ripped the page from the drum of her antique typewriter, and placed it neatly upon the fresh stack. Her muse was back, and this new material would keep her creative juices flowing for the foreseeable future.

    The Van Helsing Resurgence - Saturday Scenes

    Victoria leaned back, and heard the familiar creak from the chair. She looked into the fire as it crackled happily while its flames danced, and left her momentarily entranced. Victoria thought about the hours spent looking at the beauty of those flames and found it hard to imagine how all of that was about to change.

    A lot of things had changed in short order, with more to deal with in the upcoming years. This time there was a guide; someone to lead her, and Victoria hoped their relationship would grow like it had for Evelyn and Marc. It was her wish that she would not only call Evelyn a friend, but consider her to be a sister, albeit a deceptively older one.

    A smile appeared on her face, once she heard a knock at the door. She excitedly, jumped over the corpse of the building’s doorman to answer it. How unfortunate that he needed to be dealt with in such a manner. Unfortunately, he had been far too inquisitive about her return, and his bothersome insistence on calling the authorities only sealed his fate.

    At least he was delicious, and still remembered the ecstasy experienced from draining the life from him. The essence of his life now flowed through her veins, it invigorated her, but that now came with the faint smell of his decomposing corpse. When she opened the door, Evelyn greeted her and kissed Victoria tenderly.

    “You have been naughty, non?” Evelyn asked with a giggle, and licked the last of his blood from Victoria’s lips.

    Victoria blushed, but Evelyn said nothing more on this matter. One’s first kill was a personal matter, as were the emotional and psychological repercussions. That had been the way for Evelyn, and that would be the same for any of Victoria’s progeny. Corpses did pose a problem, but there were ways to make people disappear. One did not live long in this day and age without having a few tricks up their sleeve.

    Victoria turned her attention to the fire before noticing that Evelyn was different somehow. There was something about her attire, which was better suited to a formal New Year’s ball. Her suspicions were confirmed when Evelyn slipped her hand into a bag, and pulled a beautiful porcelain mask. At first, she imagined this mask to represent some wild beast, just like those described in her writings. Instead, it turned out to be the perfect porcelain reproduction of Evelyn’s face.

    “Sometimes the truth is far more monstrous than fiction ma chère,” Evelyn said.

    To that, Victoria agreed. Predators did not hide their true intentions, their motives were plainly governed by their genetics. While a growl and teeth could elicit primal fear, people were in far greater danger when such traits were hidden by the thin veneer of civility.

    “Now come!” Evelyn shouted, while she glided over the uniformed corpse. “We have to introduce you to the family, and I assure you that their masks will not be as obvious as mine.”

    With a smile, her mentor walked into the hallway and left Victoria to clean up before following suit. On her way out, Victoria left the fire a well-deserved gift for being her kindest critic, and biggest fan. She was certain the flames would happily consume this final token of her appreciation. Just as she closed the door, never to return, the flames spread over the cover page and left only the line The Portrait visible.

    In the hallway, she heard Evelyn say in those musical tones, “In case you are wondering. Marc will be the one wearing a mask representing a dire wolf… Though he will be doing so grudgingly!”

    All the while, Victoria thought back to what she wrote long ago, and said, “Remember, what lies underneath, is by far more frightening.”

    Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!

  • Omega

    Incense hung in the air, the burned particles irritated her nose, and the smell grew more pronounced as Victoria came to. There was something peculiar about this odour; something that made her think of death and decay. In fact, the link was so strong, that it evoked images of an ancient crypt hidden away under a city forgotten by time.

    The Van Helsing Resurgence - Saturday Scenes

    She struggled to open her eyes, as though they were glued together. Was this just a case of fatigue? How long had she been unconscious? Was she even alive? Perhaps this was a dream? No, this felt far too real. Besides people rarely experienced pain or discomfort in dreams.

    Something brushed up against her lips, it was cool at first, like water trickling out from a frozen waterfall. Victoria struggled to open her eyes, but saw nothing more than an impenetrable darkness that filled her with dread. This sensation of cold spread, pushed past her numbed lips then probed the inside of her mouth. She considered biting down, but feared there would be repercussions.

    Only when the tongue withdrew, did Victoria gasp for air, and found her sight restored. The images that flashed before her eyes were blurred at first, confined to a world that moved with a mind of its own. Her sight eventually settled, but what she saw only confirmed her fears; this was in fact, not a dream.

    Before her stood Evelyn, her character, her inspiration, and role model. This time, she was dressed in a long flowing gown of white satin. Her face was adorned by a warm smile, and there were locks of long flowing hair that hung around her shoulders. This complemented Victoria’s image of an idyllic angelic figure, and was without a doubt, the same woman she met on that beach twenty years ago.

    This was the woman who blessed her as a child, using some sort of prayer. Was that the reason why their minds were linked? Did that mark the moment when Evelyn established a connection between them? Did this imply that Victoria had been nothing more than a bit player in Evelyn’s play?

    Evelyn licked her lips as though relishing the echoes of that kiss, and said, “Welcome to the world of the living ma chère. Have you gotten your affairs in order? Indulged in your last meal perhaps?”

    Her characters musical highlights in her voice were so familiar. It was eerie how much she knew this person, in spite of this being the first time they ever spoke.

    Victoria did not say a word. She was far too lethargic to formulate a proper answer.

    “Is there a proper response?” Victoria whispered.

    She knew that either decision would end in death, only the method of her death would differ. Would her death be quick and merciless, or would her character’s sadistic nature come to the surface?

    Evelyn’s smile changed, one that stripped away her angelic traits, and replaced them with a cruel harshness. Her character was truly skilled at human emotions, an expert on how to leverage them against others. How else could she convey so much based on the shape of her smile? Would Victoria be able to manipulate others just as easily?

    Before the question was answered, Victoria found herself being dragged from the altar. The world swirled nauseatingly as vertigo muddled her mind. Would she have the strength to stop herself from vomiting all over the floor?

    Once the world settled, Victoria noticed the pool of dark liquid. The surface was so dark, that it reflected back her image. Tired and weak, Victoria lost her balance, dropped to her knees, and instantly became mesmerised over the reflection. She seemed to be looking at an ideal version of herself, one immune to the ravages of time. Did she ever have such a youthful glow about her?

    Victoria reached for her chest, to check for a heartbeat, and sighed once the familiar rhythm registered. She was still alive, and yet her reflection implied that she had already crossed the threshold between life and death.

    “How can my reflection seem that much more confident and full of life,” Victoria muttered to herself while the shadow of death approached.

    As it had been with the Apostle Thomas, doubt reigned supreme in her mind. How was it possible to reflect back an image that differed from reality? At a snail’s pace, Victoria probed her face, seeking those familiar features, and was soon astounded by the gravity of the changes. Her cheeks were sunken, features sharper, with noticeably unhealthy skin. When was the last time she had a bite to heat?

    “It has been a week love,” Evelyn said, knowing that in Victoria’s current state, the full depth of those words would have no effect.

    Victoria turned around to look upon her character, her eyes brimming with fear. She then turned back to look into the radiant pool, and noticed an unnatural red hue surrounding her reflection.

    “Blood,” Victoria stuttered out as her reflection winked back in response.

    Why was her doppelgänger mocking her? The same way that her parents would when she did something innocent or amusing. The kind of mocking that was invariably accompanied by that dreadful laugh which simultaneously managed to dismiss and ridicule the child. Innocence? Once more that concept was brought to the surface. Was this an element her character sought? To what end? To destroy in another, what had been denied in life?

    “We are perversions of life, we exist counter to what the Church and the laws of science dictate. We are the embodiment of those who turned away from the light of God in exchange for perpetual existence,” Evelyn rhymed off as though in a prayer.

    Evelyn circled around the pool, and despite her light step, the motion nonetheless caused the pool to ripple. For a moment, her taunting reflection was disrupted, which gave Victoria a few moments of peace.

    Evelyn soon broke out into a fit of laughter and added, “I’m just fucking with you. That was way too melodramatic!”

    She approached the altar then grabbed the chalice upon it. Evelyn then lifted it to the full extension of her arms while staring up at the stained glass works above. After the imp uttered some sort of incantation, she brought the chalice to her lips and drank greedily, permitting any excess to spill onto the gown.

    With Evelyn’s satin robe stained in blood, she licked her lips then tossed the chalice aside. Now that her little spectacle was done and over with, she looked over to Victoria, the one who would soon be joining her in the afterlife. While Victoria was being judged, anxiety swelled from within, just like those awaiting the Emperor’s thumb.

    In the back of her mind, Victoria wondered if her character had a change of heart. Uncertainty would reign supreme until the end, never knowing if she were destined to live, or suffer at the hands of her executioner.

    Evelyn was attuned to Victoria’s mind, and had not been surprised about the growing conflict within. Not only had she been the source of that woman’s inspiration for the better part of her life, but Evelyn also had a view to the thoughts, and emotions that most kept bottled up inside.

    “Are you having a change of faith ma chère?” Evelyn asked.

    Victoria looked up, bewildered that this question had come up. Was she being tossed a life line? How foolish would it be to even consider it? Let alone acknowledge it?

    “I am not sure,” Victoria said in such a way that every single word uttered became a self-contained sentence.

    “The door is right behind me,” Evelyn said nonchalantly. “Only you can decide how to live your life.”

    Victoria’s eyes widened upon hearing those words, and that did much to betray her state of mind. As a glow of hope began to rise, her character rendered her verdict.

    The imp leaned in closer, so close that the cool breeze from her whisper sent shiver running down Victoria’s spine. In that moment, she believed there was a path to freedom, one that led away from this crazy woman.

    “Crazy?” Evelyn asked.

    Before Victoria could say another word, Evelyn grabbed the woman’s throat, and with one brutal motion tore it away from her neck. A streak of blood followed, which covered the immaculate floor in a splatter of crimson.

    “A shame,” Evelyn added before she licked the fresh blood from Victoria’s windpipe. “In the end, you turned out to be such a disappointment.”

    At first, Victoria was unsure of what happened. Her body and mind were so disjointed from the prolonged trauma that this fresh wound did not immediately register. At first she felt moisture against her skin, but before she was able to investigate the source, Victoria was greeted by sweet oblivion.

    “All that time and effort you put into that girl,” Marc commented from the shadows.

    Evelyn was tempted to betray her composure and lash out. However, that would be tantamount to her confirming that her sire was right.

    Instead, she glided over to her man, her every step a display of sensuality, she then folded into him as though they were one. The movement was fluid, sensual, and capable of evoking an emotional response in nearly everyone, well except for this lone specimen. Either way, she did not care, with all the grace of a lady, she slipped out two wedding bands from her pocket.

    These rings were unique, a pair that represented night and day, and commissioned to celebrate their twentieth wedding anniversary of Victoria’s parents. Without it a second look, she crushed them with her bare hands, and tossed them onto Victoria’s corpse. By now, the author’s skin was pale, her eyes glassy, while what was left of her blood flowed gingerly into the pool.

    Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!