Marseille, France. 1604. I could see her beauty from the hat, which partially veiled it. Her blue gown covered her feet and swept the floor behind her as she graced through the dully-lit streets. It was dangerous at this time of the night for such a beautiful girl as her. And it was more difficult than I was eyeing her. The chariot I was in moved slowly, giving me enough time to access her and her beauty. I quickly stopped the chariot and got down from it. I walked up to her, and she smiled as my face came into view under the moonlight. My handsome features mesmerized her quickly. "Good evening," I greeted softly. "Why is a beautiful woman like you walking alone on these dangerous streets?". "No gentleman has obliged to pick me up," she answered, fidgeting with her fingers. "Well, luck is on your side because I cannot bear to see you walk on these streets alone," I said. "Come with me to my chariot, and I shall shelter you for the night. You can return to where you live tomorrow
••• The cab pulled over at a house that seemed a little secluded from the other houses around it. Solomon paid the driver, and we stepped out of the cab. We stared at the home for some seconds, then clenched my teeth. It was simply a reflex action. "Here we are," he announced with a grin. "And you are sure he knows based on what we are looking for?" I asked. "He does," he answered. "And what are we looking for again?" I asked. "Let's just go in, Desmond," he said sternly and clenched his teeth. He walked unto the porch and knocked on the door. I walked towards the porch, my shoes crunching each time they stepped on the substantial amount of snow that coated the ground. The shoulders of my overcoat had already been covered with snow for the little moment withstood outside, showing how heavy the snow was. I stood beside Solomon on the porch, and then the door opened, revealing the unaged middle-aged face of Aleksandr Karavev. The heat that was emitted from inside the house was c
MOSCOW, RUSSIA. I laid back lazily on my seat after the pilot announced we would land in ten minutes. We had even landed yet, but I already felt how cold Moscow was. I could see my breath and the snow falling heavily through the window. This was going to be a long journey. The plane landed gently on the runway and stopped as it arrived at the airport. I got our luggage and went down the stairs. It was snowing heavily. The only thing covering me heavily was the black denim jacket I wore, and considering how cold it was, people would soon start staring at me, wondering why I wasn't shivering in the cold weather. I walked with Solomon to the arrivals building and went through the routine check. When they realized we were clean, they let us go. We hired a cab, and Solomon spoke to the driver, telling him where we were headed. "Ah, Americans," the cab driver spoke, his Russian accent intruding on his English. "Yes, how did you know?" Solomon asked. "I speak three other languages; E
••• The moon was beautiful, adorning the sky together with the sky, making the night extravagantly pleasant for the party. I stepped down from our carriage together with Solomon and straightened my clothing. I wore a black suit which stopped at my knees, with a black hat and held a black staff. Solomon wore the same but with no hat. I inhaled one last time, then walked into the hall, ready to mesmerize everyone with such inhumane beauty. The woman on stage sang so beautifully. Her voice could probably blow up all the glasses and windows in the room if she continued at such high frequency. She looked at me, and I winked at her. She stopped abruptly and coughed. Some people turned to look at her. She blushed and apologized. She continued singing. I took a glass of wine from a waiter carrying a tray full of them. I leaned back on a table and watched the singer. She intrigued me just for tonight. Her brunette hair glowed in the bun that it was packed into, and her sky-blue eyes were
POLAND, 1303. "Christiana!" Solomon called out as he got down from the carriage. I rolled my eyes in disappointment as Solomon stopped our ride halfway to our destination. It was because of this same girl, Christiana Klich. My brother liked Christiana, and it was so obvious. It angered me to see them together. "Sir Hawthorne," she said in surprise, her Polish accent finding its way between her words. "What are you doing here?" she asked, still in awe. "I was headed somewhere and was surprised to spot you on the way," he explained. "Are you with your brother?" she asked, lowering her voice. She feared me because I was ruthless and strict. And I had once warned her to stay away from him. Though she didn't tell him- because I compelled her not to -she feared to be around him when I was present. "Yes," he answered. "What are you so worried about?". "It is nothing to worry about," she said, looking at the carriage. "I think you should head back to your carriage and best be on you
WINEKOVE, PRESENT DAY. I stared silently into the alcohol remnant in my glass as I sat beside Solomon on the counter. We had been discussing the vampire hunter since I had returned. It was getting to morning, and I could tell by the twilight sneaking into the house through the windows, washing its dim light across all surfaces it encountered in the sitting room. I returned around 5 am and couldn't sleep since. So I woke Solomon up and told him about the bodies Dylan and Samantha had found in a dumpster earlier this morning. We sipped on alcohol as I narrated everything to him and reminisced about our first and only encounter with the hunter. We had barely made it out alive, and realizing he was back for us sent a gruesome sensation down our spine. "So, what are we going to do?" he spoke after sighing a few moments before. "I had ordered Dylan and Samantha to convince the vampires that it was a mere disciplinary measure faced by the dead vampires who had gone against the rules,
After the game, he called three of us closer to him. I knew what he would say, and he would praise Solomon and Zack. "You three were exceptionally brilliant today," he praised. "Thanks, coach," Zack appreciated with a smirk. "Where were you yesterday, Walker?" he asked with a raised brow. Zack looked at me in anger. "I caught a cold yesterday," he lied, not removing his eyes from me. "That's strange," the coach pointed out. "Hawthorne was sick too. What a weird coincidence". "How are you feeling, Solomon?" he asked. "I feel much better, thanks," he convinced. Coach nodded. "You and Walker were brilliant today," he praised again, confirming what I had read from his mind earlier. "I see you too as first team members real soon." "You, to
"I think we should bury this again," Solomon suggested. I looked at him, puzzled. "Why?" I asked. "We need to keep the police out of this. And by keeping the police out of this, we will keep them from discovering the darkness in this city", he explained. I nodded in understanding. "You think the vampire hunter did this." "Yes." I sighed. "Solomon, if the vampire hunter did this, that means..." "That means he also killed Mr. Brown, and his body is buried somewhere here," Solomon said through gritted teeth. "Let us find the body then," I said and zoomed into the forest behind the house. I searched everywhere close to the home and found nothing. "Desmond!" I heard Solomon call again, and I dashed toward him. I arrived and saw him standing above a dugout ground. He was panting and staring down at a body half decayed. It was Mr. Brown's. I clenched my teeth and closed my eyes, infuriated. The Vampire hunter had just left another mark in town. "Let us cover him up and leave," I