03 - Evolution

The very
memory of that night was like a recurring nightmare….

The fog was cold and damp, and an icy wind blew through
the shadow-cloaked forest, but Selene barely noticed the chill. Autumn
trees, bare and skeletal, clawed at her as she ran frantically through
the woods outside her home. Her heart pounded so loudly she felt certain
it would burst. Glancing back over her shoulder, she glimpsed vague,
indistinct figures moving through the mist behind her. A full moon shone
through the barren tree branches overhead. Storm clouds drifted across
the moon like a veil.

They
were chasing her. Whatever they were.

Only nineteen years old, Selene knew she was soon to
die.

Heart-rending screams ripped through the night, sending
fresh jolts of fear and anguish through the young woman’s soul. Her dark
brown hair streamed wildly behind her. Panic filled her wide chestnut
eyes. Undried tears streaked her cheeks. A thin linen nightgown provided
scant protection from the cold. Spilled blood streaked her gown,
glistening wetly in the moonlight. The sticky red fluid had soaked
through the fabric, causing the linen to cling to her skin. Bare feet
raced over a carpet of fallen leaves.

Thunder boomed above her. A jagged bolt of lightning
sliced the sky in twain. Rain poured down in sheets, drenching Selene.
The forest floor turned to mud beneath her feet. Muck oozed between her
toes and she had to fight to keep her balance on the slippery leaves. If
she fell, her pursuers would be on her in an instant. Chances were, she
would never rise again.

Who are they?
she wondered.
What are they?

More screams penetrated the darkness. The blood-chilling
ululations came not from human throats.
Something
is in the stables,
she realized. The horses sounded as though
they were being torn to pieces, which might well be the case. Selene had
already witnessed far worse this evening.

The blood upon her gown was not her own, but it could
not have been any more precious to her before it had gushed from the
severed throats of her mother, sister, and baby nieces. She had left the
butchered bodies of her nearest and dearest strewn upon the wooden floor
of their violated home when she had fled madly into the night, seeking
out the only family left to her.

Father!
she thought
desperately. He had gone out to calm the horses only moments before the
mysterious invaders had attacked their home.
Please, God, let him live still. Do not leave me alone with
these… creatures!

The stables loomed before her, barely visible in the
mist and gloom. As she drew nearer the large wooden structure, she saw
that the barn door was open wide. Had her father drawn back the door
while checking on the horses, or had the monsters already invaded the
stables as well? Utter blackness shrouded the interior of the stable,
offering no clue as to what might lurk within, but she could hear the
frightened horses whinnying in alarm. The poor animals sounded
absolutely terrified.

Dare she enter the stables alone? Glancing once more
over her shoulder at the hellish shapes surging through the fog, she
realized she had no other choice. The sturdy building was her only hope
for sanctuary, no matter how meager.

Trusting her life to fate, she dashed through the
doorway into the stables. A timber roof provided welcome relief from the
pouring rain. Flashes of lightning and sporadic moonbeams filtered
through the roof to provide some slight degree of illumination. Crazed
horses bucked violently in their stalls, terrified by the storm and God
only knew what else. Their hooves pounded against the solid oak doors
trapping them in their stalls. They had worked themselves into a lather,
the sweat gleaming on their quivering bodies.

Selene could not spare a second to see to the horses.
Before her pursuers could catch up with her, she slammed the door shut
and bolted it in place. She prayed that the heavy oaken barrier would
keep out the bloodthirsty monsters behind her, but feared that no power
on earth could truly save her. It was as though Death itself had come
lunging out of the fog this night, to strike down her loved ones one by
one.

Breathing hard, she turned away from the door. Water
streamed from her hair and gown. The dank air reeked of wet hay, dung,
horse sweat, and blood. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the
darker gloom of the sealed barn, and she staggered forward uncertainly.
Another flash of lightning pierced the darkness, revealing a supine
figure lying motionless upon the hay-strewn floor between the stalls.
The sprawled body was as still and silent as the grave.

No!
Selene thought. An icy
certainty spread through her veins, and she felt her last vestige of
hope succumb to despair. She stumbled toward the lifeless form, already
knowing what she would find. Her brown eyes brimmed with tears.

“Father…”

The face of the corpse was contorted with fear, but
Selene could not fail to recognize the kindly, bearded visage that had
so often looked upon her with warmth and affection. Her father’s throat
had been torn open, as though by a rabid animal. Bright red blood was
splattered all over him, just as it had been on the savaged bodies back
at their house. His limbs were twisted and askew. Broken shards of bone
jutted from his fractured arms and legs. Glassy eyes stared blankly into
oblivion.

Her father was dead—just like the rest of her family.

She was alone.

Why us?
she thought in
agony.
What did we ever do to deserve this?
She dropped to her knees beside the body, heedless of the blood
spreading out from beneath her father’s gory remains.
My father was a good man. A decent man.
Violent sobs rocked her body. Tears fell upon the dead metalsmith’s
face.

A deafening crash jolted her from her grief. She spun
around toward the barn door, which shivered beneath the force of
powerful blows.
A battering ram?
she thought
in confusion as the oak door was smashed to splinters. It crashed to the
floor with a resounding thud that echoed loudly throughout the stables.

Selene turned away from the door, back toward her
father. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Although Death had surely
come for her, she had no desire to look it in the face. Trembling, she
awaited the fatal blow that would sever her soul from her body. She
could only pray that her end would be swift.

Soon,
she promised herself,
I will be reunited with my family in paradise.

Footsteps trod heavily on the blood-soaked floor of the
stables. The horses reared up within their stalls, positively maddened
with fear. Selene heard the footsteps approach her at a measured pace.
She braced herself for the searing pain of razor-sharp fangs or claws
sinking into her flesh. She imagined her own blood spouting from her
throat.

Instead a steady hand fell firmly yet gently upon her
shoulder. She held her breath, expecting the hand to move to her throat,
but it remained where it was, as though to comfort her. Puzzled, she
opened her eyes and looked behind her.

No monster stood above her. No pillaging berserker. The
hand belonged to a regal stranger clad in magnificent black plate armor.
An ornate black helmet, of Corinthian design, offered only a glimpse of
the man’s pale features, but could not conceal the stranger’s almost
palpable aura of strength and authority. A massive broadsword, so large
that it seemed a marvel that any mortal man could lift it, hung at his
side. Compassion shone in his luminous blue eyes.

“They’ve gone,” Viktor said.

Can this be true?
Selene
wondered.
Am I truly saved?
She eyed the
armored warrior warily, torn between suspicion and an urgent desire to
accept the comfort she so desperately needed. Her entire world had been
torn away from her.
What will become of me now?

Viktor reached down and gently helped her to her feet.
Her legs were unsteady, and she would have fallen, save that he took her
in his arms the same way her father had. She rested her weight against
his, unable to run or fight back any longer. His strong arms held her up
and she surrendered to his sheltering embrace. For the first time since
this nightmare had begun, she felt safe and protected. “All is well,
child,” he said. “You need fear no longer. The beasts that slew your
family have been driven away.”

Praise the saints!
Selene
thought. An overwhelming sense of relief washed over her.

Closing her eyes once more, Selene failed to see
her rescuer slyly wipe the blood from his lips. A stray beam of
moonlight caught the gleam of Viktor’s pointed fangs.

Nor did Selene see another figure emerge from the murky
depths of the barn, not far from her father’s body. Soren was likewise
clad in black armor. His azure eyes glowed eerily in the darkness. Fresh
blood glistened upon his ivory fangs and bushy black beard.

Her father’s blood.

A second vampire crept from the blackness. Kraven’s
handsome face was flushed with stolen blood. A mane of shoulder-length
black hair framed a clean-shaven, aristocratic countenance. Cruel blue
eyes ravished Selene’s trembling form. He leered at her in lustful
anticipation.

Moving as silently as shadows, the two predators stalked
toward Selene, awaiting only Viktor’s command to fall upon the
unsuspecting mortal maiden. Her back to them, her tearstained face
resting against Viktor’s armored shoulder, she had no idea that she was
still in mortal danger. Soren thirsted for her blood. Kraven was more
interested in her tender young flesh.

But Viktor raised his hand to ward them off. Gently
stroking Selene’s wet hair, he quietly signaled them to back away. A
look of bitter disappointment crossed Kraven’s face, but he knew better
than to defy his master. With Soren, he furtively receded back into the
shadows.

Selene never even knew they were there.

“There, there, child,” Viktor cooed in her ear. “You’re
not alone anymore. You shall never be alone again….”

Thunder pealed in the night.

Six centuries later…

The crack
of a gunshot broke the stillness of the night. Startled crows scattered
from the branches of a bare winter tree. The roar of an enraged beast
sent a collective shudder through the nocturnal forest. More shots
followed in rapid succession, the blaring noise muffled somewhat by the
heavy snow falling from the sky. The fierce roar gave way to the
high-pitched howl of a dying animal. A massive body crashed to the
earth.

Selene turned away from the fallen beast. Smoke rose
from the barrel of her Beretta automatic pistol. She stood atop a jagged
cliff face, which overlooked the hilly woodlands northeast of Budapest.
The snowstorm, which had arrived unexpectedly only a few hours ago,
continued to blanket the wilderness beneath a carpet of fresh white
powder. A glossy black trench coat was draped over her shoulders.
Lustrous black leather clothed her lithe frame. High black boots sank
into the snow beneath her feet. A cold wind rustled her dark brown hair.

She brushed an errant snowflake from her cheek. Her
alabaster features betrayed not the slightest hint of emotion.

Killing was nothing new to her. Indeed, it had been all
she’d ever known, ever since that fateful night some six-hundred-odd
years ago. Selene was a frightened child no more. Now she was a Death
Dealer, a vengeance seeker….

Until earlier tonight, when she had discovered that
everything she believed she knew was a lie. Her friends were her
enemies, her enemies, victims, and everyone she had killed over the
centuries, a crime. Once again, her entire world had turned upside down.

It had not been a good night.

She strode away from the fallen beast without a single
backward glance. The edge of the cliff dropped away sharply in front of
her, but she fearlessly walked straight up to the precipice—and right
over the brink.

Gravity seized her and she plunged toward the woodlands
one hundred feet below. She coolly ejected a clip from the Beretta as
she fell, unconcerned by the snow-covered ground that seemed to be
rushing up at her at breakneck speed. Her leather-clad form plummeted
gracefully through the branches of the trees, expertly missing the
towering tree trunks that threatened to impale her. It was a myth that
only wooden stakes could kill a vampire, but that didn’t mean the trees
posed no danger to her.

Selene knew what she was doing, however.