It should be assumed and said that all characters are over the age if 18 years old and currently there are no acts of sex.
Chapter One
Inside of each of us is the darkness wanting out. But what if that darkness is the ending and the beginning of us all?
The full moon hung like a ghost in the night sky as Yada overlooked the lights of the city below from her tenth-floor apartment. She studied the diamond twilight for over an hour before turning away--No longer able to stomach the sight. It had been nearly a month since she had been home, having stayed in the coven's inner chambers since the city fell under siege to a rival house a little over three weeks ago.
Over the years, the city had seen many battles for control of the streets. To date the two bloodiest battles took place within the last fifteen years. The Baden's orchestrated both attacks. Lead by Darius, the Baden's seemed hell bent on ruling the city with little regard to the Michelson's.
The Michelson's governed the streets for nearly two hundred years, and a formidable force. Lead by Gabriel, the Michelson's protected the city, and it survived unscathed. The streets were free from the blood deals, which went unnoticed by the public eye, normally. However, this last battle proved more difficult to keep quiet. It had been an all-out war for control, drawing innocent people into the blood feud as the Baden's raided the streets for warriors to fortify their numbers. The Michelson's retaliated through unusual ventures to keep the war silent.
With the war all but over Yada returned home. She embraced the warmth of the one place that had served as her sanctuary, her stronghold, her private museum, filled with mementos from nightly rituals she could never speak of again. Walking amongst the thick bookshelves stocked with trinkets, she kept as memories of long forgotten friends and places reminded her of an earlier time in her life when everything was uncomplicated. She lingered several minutes in front of the center section and stared blankly at the empty space. Forced to add something new to her collection, she slipped the pack from her shoulder and removed a small blood stained cloth. Opening it tenderly as though the contents would break if she hurried, she removed a jeweled crusted dagger, and carefully balanced it on the tips of her fingers until her knees gave out.
Softly wiping away a stream of tears that had gone unnoticed until now, she examined the dagger. It was ancient-- Older then Elders and just as mysterious. Crafted in Egypt before the birth of Christ, the blade was stained crimson and etched with an intricate design. The handle held two emeralds stones, finely polished, and encased in silver. Until tonight, she had only heard of it in Vampire legend, and had never thought the myths to be true, let alone she would be worthy enough to hold it.
Taking a deep breath she recalled how simply the night started. She was supposed to escort her employer and an old friend to a meeting, but something had gone tremendously wrong. A death squad of seven hit their limo. The resulting battle was bloody and forced her to give up all that she believed to be honest and true.
With a heavy sigh, she moved the dagger across her hand, quickly feeding it her essence before laying it gently upon the shelf. Bloodletting was just one of the traditions she lived by. With the blade fed for tonight, she adjusted its position on the shelf. Hurrying away from it, she returned to the window to watch the moon slowly slip behind a high-rise.
Her mind wandered through time replaying each moment of the last month. A cold chill moved down her spine and she began to crave warmth and solitude. Although, she knew she would find neither. Finally glancing across the room to the desk, she knew what had to do.
In the bottom drawer was a ledger, entrusted to her years before. The ledger was old and covered in faded black leather, and used to record the names of the dead. Necrology, some would call it. Nevertheless, to her it was the source of all damnation. She was now obligated to add to list of the dead, instructed to place two names on the never-ending list. Holding the book to her breast and caressing it with the gentleness a man might give to a beautiful woman; she opened the yellowing pages and slowly entered the first name. Pausing long enough to digest what she had just done she closed the cover without recording the second.
Looking over her shoulder to the clock, she knew the first red-tinged rays would begin their climb over the city in a few hours. She had hoped to use the time to jog delicious memories, but instead felt the bitterness of disappointment clasp her heart.
"Why?" She whispered, hoping in the emptiness an understanding would come. However, dealing in death as she often did, she knew understanding would not come. Years earlier, she learned death was a needed tool in protecting the humans from the night creatures that stalked the city. She once searched for absolution from her duties, but knew it would never be granted.
Several minutes slipped away before she painstakingly set the ledger on the third shelf. She knew that before sunrise she would add the second name. It was the second name she was having trouble accepting. It was the second name she could not admit to.
Sitting at the desk unsure of what to do, it finally came to her. Retrieving a blank journal from the second drawer, she opened the cover. After reflecting on a single word, she began her story.
"
Darkness,
" she again whispered.
***
A gentle breeze from the south brought a thick cloud cover, which blocked the afternoon sun. Jessica Gotti had not noticed the changing weather until the mail carrier appeared from nowhere, and handed her a large bound stack. Flipping through the pile, she took a select handful with her to her car and dumped them in the passenger seat.
Looking over the front window of the gallery, she felt a tickle on the back of her neck as though someone was watching her. Quickly turning around and finding nothing out of place she rubbed her temples, dismissing the sensation as a sign of stress from the extra work she'd put in so the opening date would not be delayed again.
Realizing it was almost 3:00 P.M.. She decided to head home. The drive lulled her mind from the hectic schedule she had been living by. The rhythmic sound of the tires erased all the stress of the last few days. Moreover, for the first time she knew in her heart that the opening would go off as planed with no backlashes.
She was listening to a Final Mile song. She had met Cornell Cross once a few years before, when he was still the lead bass guitarists. They had become fast friends and she kept up with the band as they grew over the years. She was singing one of the songs, lost in the lyrics when she realized she was at her driveway. Hitting brakes hard, she took the turn a little too wide. The front tires ran over the edge of a freshly planted bed of daisies. The mail slid to the floorboard before she finally got the car under control. Mumbling under her breath she leaned across the front seat and grabbed the stack. A large manila envelope, protruding from under the front seat, caught her attention. Taped on the cover was a second, smaller, letter.
"What do we have here?" She asked, opening it with a curious look. Two days before her husband had the car detailed after their son spilt a milkshake on the floor board. She knew the letter wasn't there then.
September 30, 2026
My Dearest Jessica,
Reading this must come as a shock to you. Actually, it is a shock for me as well. I do not know where to begin, or if there is a beginning. Over our many years as friends, you have asked me for the truth about my life. In the past, I was unable to give you what you needed. I am not sure if I can now.
You wanted to know who I was. Until now, I could not explain what I did not understand. Or perhaps, I did not know where to start or how much you would believe.
You have always known I was different, and have always accepted my eccentricities. For that, I thank you.
My world is far different from yours and has always been. There have been times over the years when our two societies have clashed. During those dark days, I have protected you from the darkness that hunted us.
Nevertheless, things have changed, and you are now in danger. I cannot protect you from the truth, nor can I change what has happened. I can only explain to you why I have done as I have, and will continue to do what I must.
