Fallen Angel (Angel)
Carbtrune, Ireland - 1902
The devil came. There was no other word to describe him. Grinning as he tore up another human with his bare hands; cackling as he pulled another arrow from his chest. Fire poured out of his body as if it were his blood. Feathered white wings sprouted from his back, but all knew that the devil was a fallen angel. Nothing could stop him. No one could stop him. Those who tried - died. Those who ran - died. Those who hid - died.
Arthur Doblan cowered as he saw the devil approach his small house. The knife in his hand clanged against the doorframe repeatedly, as Arthur's jangled nerves fought to keep his body's composure. His 16-year-old daughter hid under the stairs. Arthur braced himself for the onslaught. For whenever the devil comes to your door, there is hell to pay.
The thick wooden door was torn apart like wet paper. Arthur plunged his knife into the devil's chest, but to no avail. Fiery eyes looked upon Arthur, and threatened to consume him. As the man backed away in fear, his young daughter ran out and kicked the devil in the shin. You see, children have not yet learned to fear him. He looked at the girl in amusement, taken back by her soft Gaelic beauty. The devil turned his gaze back to Arthur.
"Give your daughter to me, and you will be spared."
"N…no! I'd rather die!"
"Then die you shall."
The young girl ran between her father and the devil. "No! Take me…just…don't hurt my da…"
"Very well then," replied the devil. He lowered himself to the girl, and sank his teeth into her neck before Arthur could even begin to grasp what was happening. Soon it was done.
"Oh…my little angel…what have you done…what…" Arthur's sentence was cut short, as his daughter tore his throat out, now in a near mindless frenzy. The devil smiled as the girl leapt from her father's body and ran into the village, finding new victims to partake of.
"Ah Coren… you do not know the fun you are missing…"
The devil resumed his killings alongside his new childer.
The devil has been given many names, but this time, he was known as Leland…Leland Stagurd, a third generation Erinyes vampire. Over the next few months, he trained his young protégé in the 'proper' ways of the embraced…or at least how they should be in his dark eyes. He dubbed her Ayla Mandana, and together they spread a dark shadow over the Emerald Isle. It was not enough, however, and soon they set their sights on new meat, across the water in Scotland.
They destroyed many villages, and took many lives. One fateful night, however, they destroyed a village of a different nature… one composed mainly of members of the notorious clan Kurrmond, a family of warriors. The stench of burning bodies filled the air, and the blood lusts were sated. It seemed like a normal evening to the pair of vampires, until two boys appeared in the midst of the destruction. One looked to be about 18 or 19, the other 7 or 8. Leland gawked at the two, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Had they just been missed? Impossible. Leland straightened his silk scarf and grinned.
"Hello, gentlemen. May we assist you in some manner?"
"I think not," replied the older boy. "You see these people you have killed, they were our family. Not that that matters much, but they were perfectly good soldiers, and you wasted them."
"Waste? No, my lad, they were put to good use."
"To feed your blood lusts? Bah. You vampires are pathetic, requiring others to survive…"
"Watch your tongue, boy, lest I tear it from your prattling mouth."
"Go ahead and try, monster."
"Very well."
Leland removed his flowing black cape and handed it to Ayla. "This will just take a moment, my dear."
Ayla smiled and nodded to Leland. The vampire popped his back, and then his body seemed to ignite on fire. The older boy smiled, and then engulfed his own body in a blazing blue flame. Leland gawked yet again.
"What are you?"
"Something that is going to finally slay you, for good this time."
The young man flew at Leland, striking him in the jaw before the vampire even realized what was happening. Leland staggered back a number of feet; then regained his balance. He wiped some blood from his lip and grinned. "Was that it, little one?"
"Impossible…" the young man said softly. "I've read about you vampires. You're powerful, but not -that- powerful…"
"You should check all your sources next time. Some of us are just a tad stronger than average…"
A blast of flames purged out of Leland, striking the young man. He was flung backwards about 50 yards, and bounced along the ground.
"Pitiful. I am intrigued by the source of your power, although it doesn't seem like much. I could pry the answers from you, but… I think I'd just rather call it a night. Goodbye, fleshling…"
Leland raised his hand towards the young man, when the younger boy ran up and stood in front of the vampire.
"Eh? Is this your 'protector'? Age does not matter. All humans are repulsive to me. You can both die together."
"I do not think so, nightwalker. I am far more powerful than you could ever hope to be," said the little boy.
"Well, well. You seem like a bright boy. Too bad you've made such a stupid mistake."
The older boy staggered to his feet, and looked at his younger comrade.
"No, Christian. You don't know how to control…"
"It is the only chance, Clive," replied Christian, who then burst forth from his body blue energy similar to Clive's, but with a much more enormous intensity, one that caused an almost gale force shockwave to push Leland back a few feet.
"What…is…this? What…matter of…freak…are you??"
"Adieu adieu, nightwalker."
Leland screamed as he was attacked physically and mentally at the same time by Christian's energy. The vampire was ignited, and the force of the blast sent him flying into the night sky, off over the horizon. His bestial yell could be heard across the countryside.
Ayla looked in horror, as her mentor was defeated before her very eyes. She felt so safe around him, like nothing could touch her when he was near. Now he was gone. She looked to see Christian, who now turned from his blue glow into a raging inferno of green energy. The child giggled as he set his sights on Ayla.
"No…" said Clive, as he walked up beside Christian. "I have taught you to not waste any resource you may be able to use."
Christian let out a small pout, then his glowing ceased. When not displaying his power, the boy almost looked innocent. Short black hair, dimples, a nice smile… the only thing unsettling were his eyes, his cold piercing eyes.
"How do you plan on using this one?" he asked Clive.
"I will store her away for a rainy day…" Clive grinned as he walked over to Ayla, who was still in too much shock from what had happened to acknowledge what was going on. Clive placed his hand on her head, and began to glow again, his own energies leaving his body and coursing through Ayla's. The girl's pale skin regained some color, her feathered wings shrunk until they vanished from sight, her sharp fangs retracted. She fell to the ground unconscious.
"What did you do to her?" asked Christian.
"Magic is nothing without the mind to guide it. Vampirism is a form of mystic power. I just cut it off from her brain, along with most of her memories. A well-trained vampire can block such an attack, but not a novice. She may prove to be a good tool, someday."
"You'll have to teach me how to do that."
"Another time. You have more raw power than any before you. You just need guidance. Come now, let's get back and report to the others what has happened."
Christian and Clive walked off into the night, as Ayla lay on the ashes of those whom she had slain.
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