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1.PrologueRead it Now
2.VampyroussSee below
3.deadRead it Now
4.Pretty ladiesRead it Now
5.AdrianRead it Now
6.The Black SeaRead it Now
7.AngelfireRead it Now
8.Twin EgoRead it Now

Vampyrouss
 
Chapter one









Vampyrouss





L a’ Français, 1799:
“Come Romany.”
“But, Lamria, I’m thirsty.” Romany said in a disappointed manor. “Oh, please?”
Lamria ignored Romany for as long as his anger could take him.
“Please?” she begged again.
“No! You will not feast upon these filthy prostitutes!” Lamria shouted.
His voice echoed through the dark streets of London.
“But… that could make a exquisite feast.” Said Lamria.
Both their eyes stared straight into the pale face of a unique-looking man: black clothing, silver jewelry, heavy black eyeliner and painted black fingernails.
“Hmm, tasty.” Smiled Romany.
As the man walked past them staring at the ground Romany slowly slipped one foot in front of the other and pounced onto the man behind his back. She screeched like a pissed off snake and rapped her arms around the man’s body. The man elbowed her three times in the stomach without knowing what it was he was elbowing. She giggled and opened her mouth close to his neck. He through his right hand over his shoulder and punched her in the face. Her lip bled rapidly onto his shoulder. She flipped out a silver pocketknife and stabbed it into the back of the man twice. The man yelled quickly but before he could stop Romany had stuck her vampirish canine teeth into the neck veins of the man. The man collapsed to the ground, it all seemed so fast.

“Hah! Look at the hobo!”
“Haha! What an ass friendly fuck-steed!”
The man opened his eyes. The sunlight seemed abnormally bright and uncomfortable. He noticed he was soaking wet, he had no clothes except torn up pants and everything he had was gone. He saw two young children in their tryhard-ish hoodies laughing at him. The ground was wet, and the man couldn’t help but think the sun was the worst pain he had ever felt. The word ‘Raven’ was etched into his chest, arms and legs and, the cuts were so deep. He lifted himself off the ground and leaned against the wall. He was so cold and, had an unusual craving. His hair was wet and covering most of his face so he pushed it back. His legs hurt so much and he couldn’t bear to use any muscle in them. But, it still hurt to lean against a brick wall. He collapsed onto the wet sidewalk and crawled behind the small liquor stall. The pain he felt whenever he moved was unbearable so he stopped to rest half way between the liquor stall and an old house. He leaned on the wooden walls of the liquor stall; the wood was greatly old and had termites. He rested his right arm on an old rusted plaque it said:
Ridley’s liquor – 1654

Old, compared to the year it is now, 1816.

The two children surprisingly dashed passed him throwing rubbish, none hit him. The shortest one sprinted past him again laughing “Drunkard! Drunkard!” unfortunately for him he didn’t pay any attention to the man’s canine teeth growing out of his mouth. The man grabbed his leg, the other boy yelled. “Help me, help!” said the boy on the ground. The other boy ran away, the man pulled the Childs neck closer to his mouth and opened wide.
Just when the man was about to bite him he realized, he let the boy go; the boy sprinted as far away from him as he could, before the boy was unseen. The craving was depressing, he started to shiver, do weird things. His eyes turned to the back of his head. Everything was black.

“Hello, Agiwulf.” Said a man. A smell of cologne attracted me to look.
“Who the devil are you,” asked the man on the bed.
“And who is Agiwulf?” he finished.
“Oh dear, you don’t remember? Well, for starters I am L’vei.”
L’vei walked out of the darkness with a sly look on his face.
“And you are Agiwulf D’eliberé.”
He reached into his purple coat and flicked out some sort of note. The seal was broken and it was written in calligraphy.
“Ah! Here it is. You were found dead yesterday,” said L’vei.
“No, that’s impossible” nailed Agiwulf.
“Well, if you don’t believe me, see for yourself. “ Giggled L’vei.
He flung the letter onto the end of the bed. I couldn’t reach it, I sat up and grabbed it, but so much pain was in my legs.
L’vei was right; the note was a letter to my family proclaiming my death. It said on a piece of tan parchment.







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