Vampires and Angels_Prologue

“Michael, wake up! Wake up!” a voiced screamed, pulling me out of my visions. It was Adela. She was being pulled from the room. I couldn’t see her captor. Devin was gone. Where was he?

“Adela!” I shouted, coming to my senses. I threw myself off the bed and ran for her.

“Michael!” she whimpered. She was being pulled by her hair. Her captor was in a black cloak that covered them from head to toe.

I ran for my beloved but they were too far ahead by the time I was outside and chasing them.

Her captor ran fast and hard. I was struggling to keep up. Through the chaos I inferred that the cloaked figure was female. Beneath the hem of the shroud were two four inch high combat boots: platforms that only a woman would wear.

I followed her into the woods. We went so deep that the trees were so close together that it was hard to move, and the moon barely shown through the foliage above. I struggled to see. But through it all, I thought of how scared Ada must be. She wouldn’t be able to see anything through her mortal visions.

My breath came out in puffs and wheezes. I stopped and placed my hands on my knees. I looked left. I looked right. It all looked the same. Where had she gone? Was she leading me in circles?

An amused laugh rang out through the darkness of the trees. “Yes,” it spoke. The voice sounded so familiar, like a distant dream long forgotten. “You are running in circles. This is my labyrinth. Few enter, but those that do, never leave without my word.”

In between two trees in front of me, two torches were lit with one strike to the left and a second strike to the right. I squinted to recover from the glare. All I could see was a silhouetted figure. It outstretched its arms. “You are in my domain, Michael. Or do you still deny who you are?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Years ago you spat into a dear one’s face that you were no longer Michael. Don’t play dumb with me. I hold your life in the palm of my hand.”

“I still don’t recall, and no one but God holds my life. I’m not afraid of you. Show yourself if you dare.”

“Mighty words for one whose wife is at my disposal. Right now she’s in my dungeon, Michael, ready to be flogged and drained when I say so. Even so, she’s going through the most agonizing mental anguish. She thinks you can save her.”

“Who ARE you?!?” I hollered. I wanted Adela free.

“She’s screaming at my minions that you will come for her. Find her, Michael! Find her!” my enemy cried in mock.

I clenched my fists. “Where is she?”

No response.

I looked all around me, searching for an escape. Searching for a door way or something that would lead me to Adela.

“That’s it, Mikey. Keep searching. Don’t give up. You can never fail. Love can never fail.” The voice was different. Again this voice was familiar. It was like something so sweet and smooth, but it was jagged now with bitter hatred. One name kept pulsing through my head, but it couldn’t be her.

I groaned out in frustration. Finally I picked a direction and just started running. I ran hard and fast. I began to see a light. Was it a doorway? I ran faster. I tripped over a root and slammed into a tree’s trunk, but kept going. I had to get to the light. I started to cry. I needed to get to the light. Why wasn’t anything stopping me?

I collapsed at two torches.

I screamed in anger. It was the same circle I had been in before. And again the taunting female voices began to laugh and mock me.

“It hurts doesn’t it?” the sweet voice spat. “Hope being ripped from you; it leaves the worst cut.”

The other more mature female voice laughed, then suddenly stopped. I heard the echo bounce off the trees and back to me in a fresh wave. “Kill her,” was all she said; to who or what I didn’t know and couldn’t see. I heard more laughter: her minions. Then she ordered the lights brought up.

A red coal was dropped into a ditch and suddenly an intricate swirl of patterns was lit, blazing red. I was on my knees and in the middle of a circular clearing of trees. The two torches ahead of me lit a beautiful throne made from the plants in the woods. And on it was a beautiful woman with creamy white skin in a blood red corset, black leather pants, and elegant black stilettos.

“Amelia?” I whimpered. I nearly tore my hair out.

She said nothing and gave no emotion away.

I looked to her side and there was the cloaked figure. She came to me, stopping a couple yards in front of me.

“I left and was filled with so much torment, so much agony. It was the first time in my life that I truly wanted to die. I keep telling myself that I would just wonder around until the sun would touch my face, would cripple me to the ground and kill me. I was so tired. I cried all night and collapsed near a forest. Out from it came a lovely vampiress. She held me and comforted me. She gave me shelter and blood. She told me that there was still life that could be lived, but one thing would make it all the sweeter. So we asked ourselves whether we should turn you over to the Ancients and let them have you. But we decided they’d spare you the pain we wanted you to feel. So then we debated on how to kill you, what would be the worse. I told her of your precious jewel. And it was done. Unfortunately the little wench screams louder than we thought.” Sophie pulled back her hood. Her long black hair was no longer beautiful to me. It was coils of snakes. Her eyes were ice. Her skin was stone, no longer holding the intimate warmth of youth. She threw the cloak to the side in one fluid motion. She was wearing a far too revealing dress for her age. She clenched her teeth. “Revenge is far sweeter than love.”

Amelia rose from her throne. “And now it’s my turn. You left me broken. You were the only family I had ever had. You were like a son to me. I cherished the time we had. And then you left me. The fool of a vampire Boris told me he had sent you into the Earth. When I found you, you didn’t feel. You had turned into one of them, one of the Ancients. You denied my companionship. You said I would be a burden. And what was your rush? Oh yes, some red-headed whore who you had no idea was located. And what happened to me? I left Boris and the others. I left the city. I left civilization. I have spent the past years – I’ve lost count – living off of wildlife and seducing stray mortals into here. I decided to spruce it up a bit, as you can see. It’s a trap to anyone but me.”

My head was buried in the dirt floor and I was sobbing. I wanted Adela. “Please, where is she?” I whispered through tears and clenched teeth.

“Still obsessed?” Amelia spat. “Didn’t you hear me? She’s dead. I already gave the order. You should really listen more closely.”

“Did you think she would live forever, Michael,” Sophie spoke. “She would have died anyway. And what would you have done: an immortal. Would you have mourned the rest of eternity away for one mortal? We’ve simply taken time into our own hands.”

“Vampires are time itself,” Amelia smiled. I had heard her say that when she had first turned me.

“You’re nothing but monsters!” I shouted. “Monsters! You didn’t even know her! She would have befriended you two. She was kind and loving.”

“What?” Sophie laughed. “You expected us to simply live peacefully as she paraded you around, shoving what wasn’t ours in our faces? You expect us to endure torture? That’s rather selfish of you.”

I groaned. This was a nightmare. Where was my sweet Adela? Why wasn’t she still in my arms?

Why are you allowing this?

“Heart break is simply apart of life. Get over it,” Sophie hissed as she walked around me. She turned back to Amelia. “Should we offer him death?”

“No. Death is too sweet a release. He must live through this as we did. Take him to the dungeon.”

“Should I dispose of the girl’s body?”

“No,” Amelia snapped. “You’re far too kind. Leave it. Now take him away.”

She slipped her arm under mine and carried all of my weight past the torches and through a hidden doorway in a tree. She took me down a long stone stairwell that opened up into a maze of underground hallways and chambers. She led me through stone archways and past torches that gave off little light. She took down another flight of stairs and finally through a huge locked door that opened up into a torture room. There were all sorts of tools of misery scattered about. She shackled me to one of the walls. They had obviously prepared. The shackles were titanium steel. I couldn’t break it, even with my immense strength.

I opened my eyes and screamed in horror. I couldn’t stop screaming. That image is burned into my mind forever.

Adela lay limp, kicked against one of the far walls. She was naked and badly beaten: barbarically beaten. Huge gashes were all over her little body. In particular was a giant raw gash in her neck where her jugular used to pump in tact. Her red hair was darkened by dirt and dried blood. Part clung to her face and neck. Even through her mangled state, her face held a peace that broke me even more. He thin soft eyelids were not forever shut in a sleep that had no bad dreams, that would never hurt her or forsake her. She was waking to a whole new reality in God; a far more real reality. She was okay now. God had her.

I was angry that I couldn’t have saved her. I hated myself for not being able to spare her the pain and embarrassment that she had gone through.

Red and puffy-eyed, I glared up at Sophie. “What has been done this night will never be forgotten, can never be overlooked.”

She stared at me with fear. She scurried out and returned with a white sheet that she draped over my dead wife. She ran out of the room and locked the door behind her.

My world was crushed. Nothing meant anything. Everything was wrong. The air I breathed was right and I shouldn’t have been breathing. I banged my head against the stone wall in furry and self-hate. I scream and cried for three nights and days straight. The guards were scared of me. I ate nothing. I spoke no language but painful shrieks.

One night I stretched far enough to grab hold of a sharp object and began to bleed myself. I was certain that if I got all the blood out of my body I would die. But I kept waking up healed.

It was in that miserable state of depression and hatred and emptiness that God was the most real to me than He had ever been. I didn’t curse Him. I didn’t hate Him. Rather, I clung to Him as the only sane thing in my life. He was the only thing that made sense. I needed Him so much.

Just keep her safe and happy was all I prayed. Be my strength. Be my sanity.