Forsaen

"The scars indeed run deep, cursed are those who know; damned. The secrets we keep, the mysteries we seek, the tears we weep, the blood we have shed and blood we've spilled for crimes not committed. A terrible cycle of fear and resentment, lost within the pain we seek to hide. Learning too late the bitter consequences: our self-destructive demise. Locking away the memories, which hurt, then ourselves for being hurt. Realizing at last we are alone, though can't remember why. Don't know what went wrong, or how it all began, all we remember is the pain inside grows. Though the source of it, the beginning, is hidden away; forgotten. So we are lost, alone with our pain and no tears left to cry. Bearing scars that can never heal, burned, we are numb. So full of pain, we no longer feel, and so afraid we are no longer real."

The heavens raged as dark clouds violently formed, spewing forth thunderbolts; igniting the dormant wrath of ancient Gods. A city lay silent and trembling at the mercy of the night, and a Raven took flight. Leaping into the dark storm, to soar high above the burdens below. The night shattered, fractured forever in that moment.

Somewhere huddled in the deepest shadows for protection a bastard child cries out, stricken. The skies erupt again, a vengeful rumble echoes through the whispering city. A guardian, assigned by fate rushed panic-stricken for aid and as their hands met, lighting struck. Blood welled in the child's distraught gaze, staining a face dirty from hiding. All the misery in the world captured in that horrifying instant, before the light of heaven consumed the shadows.

***

He ran. Through the twisted labyrinth, dressed to the waist and crying, not knowing anything: Consumed. Driven by pain, by sorrow, drowning the world, drowning him. Raven cried out begging forgiveness, guilty for the crimes he did not commit, and sentenced without mercy. Raven ran until his lungs burned, then he ran until he vomited up the lies. The lies he had created, a fictional fantasy he endorsed. Raven had reached that place were darkness is revealed, he could hear his blood begin to boil. His darkness churned exposing the truth that he so desperately sought. Bringing with it the all the memories forgotten, the past reflected clearly, destroying his falsehoods. His blood awakened and spoke truth. The inner voice guided him into the corridors; restoring the broken pieces of that which was once.

***

She lay awake but dreaming, wrapped in his arms, he traced her scars with a gentle hand sending delightful chills down her spine. She welcomed his soft caress, opening her heart to him, this image of her vision. Transcending her body of self, she reached for him.

Awakened in fright, he surged forth with the nightmare still fresh in his mind. Raven moved in the dream aware only of escape. A nimble beast of reflex, he stood, instantly prepared to battle, panting wildly and bathed in sweat. In the span of a few breaths he was dressed gathering his weapons. Moving silently yet hastily fully to gather what basics he would need.

A storm gathered, the air electrified and pulsed with an unnatural energy. Evil! The gods raged, the land trembled as the sky unleashed a terrible wrath upon the world. Darkness became a tangible cloak, hollow and pitch, dimming even the incandescent bolts that spilt the melding heavens. This night contained the answer, as mysteries tenaciously pursued.

Raven paused, sitting on the cold concrete bench. Lighting a cigarette and watching the brilliant colors of the fading day, he emptied his mind and for the first time, listened to silence. In that blissful silence he sat, focused in the winter's sky, no thoughts or worries dared invade. Raven sat staring at the wonder and glory locked in mortal combat. In the drama of this ancient conflict, he could only observe with excitement and awe.

When at last the marvelous display faded to black, a harsh and bitter breeze chilled his warming heart. Raven remembered his quest, thinking back to this enchanting stranger, and his hope in finding, at long last, acceptance. With this, arose confidence; a willingness to continue and to prevail as he strolled into the night.

Raven chose a street at random and began to walk. Feeling the brisk winter breeze nip coldly, he was carried back to distant memories. The great forests and rivers of ice beckoned of a time long ago when only the Hunt mattered. He still harbored these fantasies, dreams of running wild among ages past. The sheer excitement driving, filling him with a passionate joy unlike anything he could compare. When from his fantastic dream a frightening image rippled, became focused and clear. Wolf!

This haunting vision terrorized his mind, striking him a physical blow, and sending him reeling. He stumbled drunkenly, at the mercy of these stalking horrors. Confused and frightened he fell, gasping for breath to the frozen street.

‘Life times past, joys and sorrow, yearning for peace, praying for decay. A victim of this urban nightmare sentenced to suffer eternally in this grim and pitiful world. What crime so great, what sin so grand, to deserve woeful fate? Redemption can only be earned through penitence, a curse burned away by rage and hate, forgotten across the sands of time. Abandon all hope; embrace the mysteries hidden in the blackest night. Shed the false and hollow shell to be reborn beautiful, a beast of desire, simply unrestrained and wild upon the decaying world. Free from the mortal coil. To bathe in the rivers of sin, and burn away the rotting filth, starting again fresh; new.'

He gasps, reality sharply piercing the turbulent disarray. Icy waters rushed over him, numbing his body and mind, when he was violently lifted and thrown. Crashing into the cold concrete with crushing force, Raven gasped a labored sigh and submitted into the void. Falling through the broken shards of consciousness at the terrible mercy of this nightmarish vision.

***

They had spotted him leaving the square; that was the man they were sure. He was dressed, casual in black, complete with long coat and gloves. Trained eyes could detect the sword carefully hidden beneath the dark folds, confirming the suspicions. They watched as he started down a street, and cautiously followed just within sight. They studied his actions and trying to discover the secret location of the child.

They had began the hunt, stalking him through the hurried crowd and mindful of his every move. When he paused, they moved closer blending into the confusion. Watching as he stared up into the murky heavens and stumbled blindly into the street. He fell, striking his head; they could hear the wet, meaty crack of his skull against the iron gutter. Convulsions wracked his body, as he lay dazed and drowning in the shallow currents. Quickly they moved in to intercept their weakened prey when he stood without warning and stumbled into traffic. They intervened, pulling him from the path of a speeding motorist to hurl him into their grasp.

Raven could feel himself falling down through the shattered remains of sanity, to be gently rescued by the dark. When from the void of nothingness a raven could be heard. Its chilling cry pierced the fragile silence, bringing comfort and fear. Fear of this demon that had has haunted his dreams and memories, stalking mercilessly across hallow oblivion, at last granting comfort in its arrival. Welcomed this awaited reunion.

"Do ya think he dead? He skull leak," the thug asked motioning to the blood that trickled freely from the ears and scalp of his captive. "Maybe he head broken and he not tell master, me not get trouble. I not break he head. You see, right Took," fear in his gaze, looking to his friend for comfort and aid.

Took smiled, "Don't worry Slick, somehow I think he'll live. Come on, now we gotta get him off the street before anyone notices that he's bleeding all to hell." They carried him under the masquerade of a drunk, laughing and being loud. The few that dared to wander after dark are careful to mind their own affairs; the all-seeing eyes that guarded this modern metropolis gave into the deceit. So now they could travel unhindered to the awaiting transport; it almost seemed easy, Took thought with a sinister smirk.

Took held images of grandeur, for he was the prodigy to the elder of his clan and would be held in high honor. Holding tight the hope of sitting in the counsel chamber, serving the high order. The instrument of judgment, swift and efficient he would in a sense rule over all the clans. To be feared and respected, he could see these fantasies drunk on his own sense of worth. So consumed he was that he failed to notice the shy shadow, which tracked their every step.

Another stalked this mysterious stranger, gliding through the shadows with the stealth only the immortal may possess. Tara recognized instantly the nature of these thugs, vampires. Powerful creatures, though not without weakness; she remained hidden, keeping step and waiting for the moment to strike. She, herself, was granted the Dark Kiss ever so long ago, and so knew how to combat this terrible force. A sense of pleasure filled her, in this chance for revenge, awakening the beast deep in her tormented soul. These creatures would suffer, as she did and die the final death in which she so longed. Releasing the souls bound in torment to these hollow shells, cursed to darkness and damned for this eternal existence. No longer capable of life, stranded forever in shadow these creatures deserved: Mercy!

Moving ahead of their pace, she placed the child in the security of shadow, and moved out into their path. They noticed her presence instantly upon her transition, Slick moved to intercept; a sinister grin upon his twisted features. She could see the blade he held close, the dark blade she noticed, gleamed wetly in the pale street lamps no doubt coated with that same evil ichors. She smiled to herself, as they were totally unaware of her identity; and the prize they desperately sought, no more than a few paces away. Slick advanced casually, trying to keep the blade unseen. She measured his steps, checked his posture and judged his attack. The instant he surged she moved with a fluid grace, allowing the blade to slice through her jacket, but not her flesh, as she caught his hand and pulled him off balance. As he staggered, sure of victory, she moved in closer, and with actions too swift for the mortal eye she sank her fangs deep into his throat. In the span of a few breaths she devoured all he was. Drinking deep she took his life's blood, with it his strength and soul flowed into her granting her a moment of blissful satisfaction.

Took watched intent on her demise, seeing his partner seem to stumble, he watched the dark blade strike with frightening swiftness, tearing through the woman's jacket disappearing in her flesh. He watched as she fell into Slick, her head resting upon his shoulder. He was certain the victory of his comrade, until he witnessed the impossible. Slick seemed to go languorous and spasm. Took stared in disbelief, shocked by the horror as Slick crumbled to her feet. A shriveled husk, this once untouchable demon of destruction now a withered corpse, disintegrating to dust before his eyes, he howled in fear and fury. In his rage he abandoned caution; drawing a gun, he opened fire. The heavy-pistol thundering round after round, shattering any hope of benighted escape, he focused on the woman's destruction ignoring all else.

She dropped back, a sadistic smile grimly flashing as she moved between the hail of bullets. She became a liquid dancer, flowing untouched by the assault, anticipating his hate and guiding her nimble form into position. When, to her surprise, the final shot slammed through her chest with such terrible a force as to send her to the ground; she felt the impact like a sledgehammer, aware that the violent round shattered bone, destroying her lung as it passed through, opening a ghastly wound. She knew her blood painted the brick behind her, yet she remained. On one knee, her smile evermore grim, she began to rise when Took lunged forward. He held a knife and the discharged pistol determined to beat her down.

Tara waited for him, still smiling. Took could hear the approach of enforcers growing near, yet he never sensed the attack so close at hand. Her body guided by the celerity of her thought, as she dove under his blind assault, deflected his clumsy attack, her fangs buried deep into the tender flesh of his thigh. She drank of him with the same tenacious need. Another withered corpse fell to her feet. She focused her will and in the span of a few breaths healed the damage to her chest, then gathered the unconscious Raven and the child in which she was sworn. Together they faded into the night.