Upon many an occasion had Valkyhn sat atop of a tree, staring upwards at the sky upon a moon illuminated by the sun’s light. And upon these many occasions, often he thought, that he and the moon were the same. Both had a dark side, not a dark side most would associate the saying with, but just a side, hidden from sight and the light of day. A side nobody ever saw save himself and one other person. And also how he moon and he were both so mysterious and beautiful and romantic. Of course, this was his ego talking, but nonetheless, the comparison seemed right for the young lycan. And upon these many occasions, his thoughts always seemed to lead straight to that one question that never seemed to leave his mind. Why? Why was he born with such a life? Why was he given this gift, no, this curse?
But tonight was different. On this night, no thoughts of why coursed through this mind, never ceasing. No, tonight, the thoughts had finally ceased, leaving Valkyhn to just stare up at the moon, at its beauty, it’s mysteriousness, it’s sense of romance and foreboding. He was finally able to see the maria of the moon, it’s “sea.” But one thing was prevalent in his mind as he stared at the moon. He knew that tomorrow night, the night of the full moon, was the first that he would not be forced by his curse to set free conscious and thought and obtain primal instincts. He would be able to stare at the full moon, and remember the beauty it held as it basked the world in a shallow light, illuminating the otherwise lightless night.
The myths and the legends of the lycans, or werewolves, were all wrong. It wasn’t the full moon itself that caused their transformation from human to monster. No, instead it was their body’s cycle that caused their transformation. Certain genes lay inside the bodies of lycans, coursing throughout it, via the bloodstream, slowly, until reaching the brain, sending a message for the werewolf to transform into it’s wolf state. This cycle took roughly a month to complete and as it reached the end, it takes a full night to exit the brain and start the cycle once again. But, due to the non-linear days the earth holds, the cycle sometimes fell a day early or a day late, sometimes even happening during the day of the full moon, instead of the night of it. This allows for lycans to stay in human form during the night of the full moon.
Lycans can also change their forms of their own free will, independent of their genes. All they have to do is tell themselves to change and they will, though a partial change is impossible for them. The reason they are able to do this is because the same genes that course through the body are also found inside the brain, though altered somewhat. They respond to thought instead of acting upon its own. This allows the lycans to change form whenever they want and keep it however long they want to.
He wasn’t sure why, but his master’s voice popped into his head, giving him the lecture he had learned so many years ago…
Katankagayaki lay upon his lap, as it always had the many times he had sat upon the trees. The moon’s radiant light reflected his face back to stare at him as he stared back at it. The face somehow seemed unfamiliar, though he had no idea why. It had the same features. The dark hair covering somewhat covering his eyes. His thin lips pressed together tightly. The same dark green eyes--No… that was it! His eyes were different from the last time he had looked upon them. They seemed more…he couldn’t quite find the word for them.
And he never had time too either, for at that moment a sudden rush of cold wind engulfed him. Realizing what it was, he immediately sheathed his sword and jumped down from the tall, dead tree. Just as soon as the gust had came, it had vanished, along with its vanishing came a figure as if out of nowhere.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” said Valkyhn. “You sure like to make an entrance.”
Many times she had set her eyes upon him, and this occasion was no different than any of the last. There was never a boring time when observing this odd creature. Years ago she had heard of a race called "Werewolves." It may have been from one of the books in her Father's boundless library, or perhaps it was one of the ludicrous stories she had heard while stopped in a small town on her journey through this realm.
All those times before, she had cloaked herself in the silkiness of shadows, knowing--or in this case believing that she went about undiscovered. He had never seemed to notice, and always went about his buisness, though there were a few times where a certain tenseness had filled the area. In those moments a strange feeling arose within her, as if she had been found out, but she refused to come to believe it.
This night was a special night, unlike any other. The moon shone blood-red tonight, for it was the heiress' birthday. Spiraling tattoos which adorned her forearms and toned stomach surfaced once more, a distinct contrast between what seemed to be porcelain skin and pitch black ink. 'It has been a year already...?' The thought droned through her mind, her eyes closing as she remained seated in the large oak tree about fifty or so feet away from the young lycan. Her oxygenated-blood colored eyes fluttered open to rest upon his shadowed form once more, the crimson moonlight a brilliant, yet frightening sight to behold. The moon seemed to have bled in her wake, and as soon as she had woken up from her earlier session of rest.
A silky wisp of miasma escaped her fingertips, and a small, pleasant smile graced her pale lips. It weaved through her fingers slowly, seeming to slide across her skin with doubtless grace. It was enough to pass the time, she thought. 'Well at least for now, until something interesting happens.' She started to ponder on the time at which she would reveal herself to him, and if to do so at all. From what she had heard, these werewolves held some sort of grudge against her kind; Vampires, that is. It was something she could understand, though. They were horrid creatures that lived off of the life running through the veins of all creatures that remained alive and breathing. She had heard that in the countless millennia that had passed, that Vampires had Infact enslaved the humanoid-wolves, keeping them as personal play toys, and even servants. They had forced the once peaceful living lycans and released a relentless anger along with a grudge that would remain everlasting.
Her lithe form was littered with the bloody-light, her tongue running across her fangs and lips in a manner of habit. Suddenly, she froze. She felt his eyes upon her, and in that instance she knew she had been caught. Her breathing came to a halt for a moment that seemed to last forever, and the tightness in her chest had wound itself tighter. Now was the time. There was no weaseling her way out of this, and she had no choice but to reveal herself; ready or not.
Within moments she had pushed off of the branch and gracefully landed soundlessly upon the earth with one boot, then another. Her eyes slowly opened and gazed into the emerald eyes that now were straight before her. The cold wind that had been summoned upon her arrival was enough to chill the bone, and she saw that indeed it had. A delicately sculpted eyebrow was raised at the young man's shameless words. "You've been waiting for me, have you?" Her voice sounded, smooth, soft and monotone within the nearly barren clearing.
. Cookie is my loveslave . Quark is my Necro-Loving-Fiend .
The blood red glow of the moon cast an eerie, hellish glow upon the field, where the werewolf and the vampire lay. The werewolf’s right hand rested upon the hilt of his sword, the vampire’s lay at her side. The wind blew softly, though hard enough to chill the air around them. For minutes, the two stood there, staring into each other’s eyes, searching, neither ever broke their gaze. The vampire’s eyes, crimson red, showed no emotion whatsoever. The emerald eyes of the werewolf, though, sparkled with hate. Slowly, the werewolf’s fingers clasped around his sword’s hilt, tightening upon it until his knuckles were bone white.
“Why are you here?” finally asked the werewolf.
No reply uttered from the lips of the vampire. For a moment’s instance, she shifted her gaze to the werewolf’s sword, immediately receding back to the werewolf’s eyes.
“Is it a fight you want?”
Still the vampire stayed silent, refusing to answer the werewolf’s questions.
“Fine,” the man unsheathed his sword, it’s blade catching the redness of the moon, tainting it the color of blood. “if you won’t answer me, I’ll make you!” With speed surprising to the vampire, the werewolf rushed forward, sword cocked back, ready to strike. The vampire quickly glided back, as if floating on air, dodging the attack. The werewolf however didn’t let up. He continued forward, striking at the vampire superfluously, only causing himself to grow tired and weak, until finally he stopped, wiping the sweat from his brow and breathing heavily.
“Are you finally done?” The vampire finally said. Her voice was surprisingly calm and relaxed. “It seems your bad side got out again, eh Valkyhn?”
At this, the werewolf shot up from his bent position, his eyes wide in surprise. “How do you know my name?”
“Please, don’t play dumb with me. You’ve known all this time, haven’t you?”
The werewolf refused replying, instead to gather up oxygen to refresh his body.
“Well? Haven’t you?” The werewolf shook his head. “You mean…all this time you’ve never noticed me?” The werewolf copied his previous act.
Finally regaining his breath, the werewolf stood up tall, staring at the vampire. “You’ve been following me!? For how long?”
“Can’t really say… You really had no idea I’ve been following you?”
“No, although I’m sure you did because you wanted me, but was too shy to ask me in person.”
“You really need to watch your ego. It’s getting way too big.”
The werewolf ignored her comment. “What’s your name, vampire?”
“Why should I tell you?”
“So I can tell the engraver the name to put on the tombstone.”
“My name is Knives Eclipses.”
Valkyhn looked at her with a distasteful expression painted upon his face. “You vampires have some weird names.”
“As does your race.”
The two grew silent for a while, just stared at each other, waiting for either to make a move. Finally, Valkyhn spoke up. “So now what? We just gonna smile and wave bye, and say ‘Please don’t stalk me any more!’ and just continue as if this never happened?”
“That’s up to you.”
Valkyhn looked about his surroundings, something he had forgotten to do earlier, a careless mistake that could have cost him his life at any moment. “You’re not a very aggressive people, vampires.” It was then he noticed that the air had changed. A thin, black mist had surrounded the area, seeming to stay only around the two beings.
“Most vampires aren’t.”
“I’ve noticed.” Valkyhn’s eyes were fixed upon the mist, pondering its importance, knowing its source.
“So, you’ve met one of our kind?”
“Died by one of your kind would be the proper term.” Valkyhn started to take shorter breaths, cautious of the possible effects of the mysterious mist. “His name was Rain. Do you know him?”
“So he revived you then?”
“Gee, that answers my question perfectly clear! Thanks!”
“Your sarcasm is most annoying.”
Valkyhn mumbled a reply, inaudible to Knives. “Have you noticed this sudden mist that swept in?”
“Yes, I have. Why?” A tinge of caution was evident in her voice.
“No reason…It just seems odd how quickly it appeared. It seems to be thicker around you.”
“Are you implying something?” Knives’ eyes slowly left their gaze on Valkyhn and rested upon the mist.
“Should I be?” Immediately, Valkyhn covered his mouth, sensing the change in the air’s smell. “Toxic mist?”
The vampire smiled. “Covering your mouth now won’t help you. Your gasping earlier sealed your fate. Twice will you die by a vampire’s hand.”
“You *****! Cheap parlor tricks! You’re a coward!”
“You’ll regret those words!” Knives’ voice suddenly became harsh, no longer the calm it was before. “Would you like to die my sword then?”
As the conversation progressed, the young woman became more and more irritated with the lycan. His attitude was almost enough to cause her to snap. Her eyes narrowed, but she remained calm, a snarl tugging back her pale lips to reveal deathly sharp incisors. She cracked her knuckles, a soft huff of air escaping her lips as she took a single step forward. Drawing her right hand to the side in the form of a peace sign, a malicious smirk graced her lips. She then pressed her index and middle finger together, an obsidian radiance beginning to surround her hand up to the wrist.
"Now I understand why we enslaved you poor fools..." She spoke softly, a hint of venom evident in her tone. Her dark eyes flashed menacingly in the blackness which surrounded them, the tempo of the intensely breeding viciousness evolving into something much more. A flash of bright darkness, which could nearly cause one to go blind, followed, causing the young Lycan to stumble back in strain of the flare.
She simply stood there, her eyes ablaze with excitement. A fangy grin replaced the earlier almost psychotic smirk, her eyes still gleaming in the bizarre glow of the liquid whip which now extended about fifty feet behind her. As the Armegedon dripped from the newly formed weapon, it sizzled and smoldered upon contact with the earth, burning holes within the soil. The miasma which had been stationary earlier rose and surrounded them, popping and hissing as if it were alive itself.
He had her pondering why he seemed so defensive, but due to an earlier comment, she had it all figured out. One of the disgusting beings that she had been turned into had killed someone who was close to him. In return he began to embrace the ancient hate which discreetly flows dormant within the blood of every living lycan to this day.
'Foolish mutt. Does he truly believe he can defeat me? He truly has lost any and all sense.' She mused, waiting for him to make his move.
. Cookie is my loveslave . Quark is my Necro-Loving-Fiend .
Valkyhn stared in amazement at the long whip that the vampire held. Never before had he seen one so huge, nor made of mist. Rain didn’t have that ability…For a second, fear sent a chill through him, a fear that this vampire might be more powerful than even Rain. The same fear he had felt when he first encountered Rain. Then, he had no idea what the fear that swelled inside him was, but now he understood. It was a fear of death. Twice before had he felt this type of fear. Third time’s the charm, as they say.
Valkyhn’s face, though, hid this fear from sight. Though he felt his hands tremble, the grip on his sword loosen, his face stayed stern, unemotional. He would not die here, under the first full moon of his life, even if the bloody red tint of the moon implied death.
Lost in his thoughts and fear, he barely saw it coming, and once he did, it was too late. The whip flashed towards himself with lightning speed, digging into his left shoulder, tearing it as the whip curved upward. Blood gushed out from the newly opened wound, mixing in with the bloody night. As the whip recoiled, Valkyhn dropped to his knee, dropping his sword, and covered his shoulder with his right hand.
The vampire smirked, showing off her fangs. “Now the miasma is in your bloodstream! It won’t be long before you die!” Knives lifted her whip, ready to strike again.
And in that moment, time seemed to freeze. Valkyhn found himself kneeling down, his whole left side covered in blood. But the pain had ceased. He didn’t go numb with pain nor fear, it just simply vanished. And then, a sense of brutality washed over him. His thoughts seemed to disappear, replaced with primal rage. His canines grew larger, as if starting the transformation to his wolf form. His eyes glinted in the bloody bask of the moon’s light, glinted with malice and rage. Slowly, the werewolf reached down and picked up his sword, gripping it white knuckled, despite the weakness of his arm. I… will not die here…
“I WILL NOT DIE HERE!” And Valkyhn, with speed nearly matched with Knives’, leapt forward, past the long reach of the whip and sliced into the side of the vampire. She staggered to her right, grabbing the cut with her free hand.
“How the hell did you--?” The vampire was unable to finish her sentence as she saw Valkyhn come in for another attack, this one aiming for her head. Swiftly, she ducked and rolled to the side, kicking herself up after Valkyhn had passed. Letting go of her side to reveal that the wound had completely healed, she unsheathed her own sword and prepared for Valkyhn’s next onslaught.