Liam Redmont moved into the den, a large wooden crossbow pressed to his shoulder, his steps falter at the sight of Maryann, his bare feet scuffing on the cold floor. He almost lowers his aim, knowing it is far too late to save her, but then anger takes over and the weapon comes back up. Before he knows what is happening he feels weightless, back smacking into the granite wall.
The crossbow lands feet away, firing the silver tipped bolt into the red velvet couch that is the only seating in the room. Another shadow, crimson eyes a glow in the waning light of the fire, steps from its corner. “Now, now, Redmont no need to shoot one of us in the back.” The voice is sinister and low.
“Who are you?” Liam struggles to breathe; the force of the strike had cracked at least three of his ribs and damaged something else internally.
“Who I am isn’t a concern you should bother yourself with, not in your last few moments of life.” The creature moved with inhuman speed, Liam felt himself lifted against the wall, bare feet hanging a foot above the cold stone. The assailant opened his mouth exposing two two-inch fangs and dug them into Liam’s throat before the human could even grunt in protestd.
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The morning sun cut through the shutters, a small figure turning under the covers away from its unyielding might. He yawned, trying to fight back to sleep and then jerked up a start, he couldn’t smell any breakfast cooking, and he thought, he should have been woken up already, they were always up before sunrise.
Seven year-old Darius Redmont pulled himself out of bed, feet landing on the blue carpet of his room. He hurried out the door, listening for his any sounds that his parents were awake. Nothing came from below to his ears; he treads quietly down the stairs, automatically sensing something was wrong, this had never happened before, his parents had never not woken him up.
At the base of the stairs, he spies a small drop of blood, almost unnoticeable and innocent on the bare stone floor. He swallows and steps around it, why was there blood there? Another drop leads toward the den. The boy steps to the wall, his left side pressed against the cold stone, hands gripping the edge and grey eyes peering around the corner and eyes’ welling up with tears the instant he sees the grisly scene within.
His mother rests against the hearth, face angled toward the fire, unmoving and silent, her chest
didn’t rise with breathes. His father sits against the wall, chest heaving, but unmoving, his eyes closed like he was sleeping. Darius runs over, feet avoiding the coagulated and sticky blood pooling on the floor.
“Dad..” He whispers, tears running down his face, a hand reaching out to touch his fathers shoulder.
Liam Redmont’s eyes snap open, the normal brown hue replaced by a dark crimson; he shoves Darius back, “Stay away from me!” He clenches his teeth, fangs exposing themselves. “I’m hungry.” He says almost as an afterthought lifting his eyes to stare at Darius almost animalistic ally before whatever control he still has brings him back from the edge.
Darius sniffles at being shoved, “Dad..” He didn’t know what was going on and the boy was terrified.
“Darius listen to me very closely.” Liam jerks his head, the hunger inside crawling at the back of his throat, “You need to leave, find Lamonte, he will know what to do okay?” A hiss sounded from the otherside of the room as Maryann Redmont, or what was left of her lifted herself from the hearth, eyeing Darius like he was prey.
“Go Darius! Run!” Liam yelled, hurling himself in the path of his wife as she charged the young boy.
Darius spurred on by the sudden movement, ran crying toward the front door. He looked back as Maryann shoved past Liam only to walk into a ray of sunlight and retreat backwards in pain. Darius pushed open the heavy oak doors leaving them wide open.
The courtyard was green in the sunlight, it’s beauty trying to fight the carnage back within the home as though what had happened to his parents didn’t affect the way the world was. He could feel his eyes welling up with tears again, where was Lamonte, the grounds keeper. He cut through the hedges, sharp sticks tearing at his pajamas and his skin, drawing small drops of blood.
He came out at full run next to Lamonte’s cabin, and the large dark-skinned groundskeeper was busy fighting two men. Darius came to a stop, Lamonte noticing him in the same moment as his two assailants, both who looked surprised at the appearance of the young boy. Lamonte took the opportunity to swing his axe into the taller enemies neck, avoiding the bright mail that the man wore. The other swore in anger driving a short sword forward, Lamonte smacked the blade away from his sheers before stabbing them into the man’s throat. Both of the unknown men fell and Lamonte waved him over.
“I thought you were dead.” Lamonte said scooping the seven year old up in his arms, “Sorry but we must go quickly before more Thralls show up, are your parents alright?”
“No, dad was on the ground and his eyes were red and then mom tried to attack me,” Darius said, almost starting to cry again. Lamonte looked at the boy with soft eyes and nodded before turning and running toward the trees. “I have a place we can go, and then we have to talk Darius alright?”
The boy nodded staring back toward the house just as a dozen armed men smashed through the hedges pointing toward them. All looked the same, except for one; he was taller than the others, wore no helm and had bright white hair. Darius almost felt like he locked eyes with the man before his vision was blocked by low branches.
The large dark-skinned man smashed through branches and brush, footsteps heard crashing through the trees behind them, and making it obvious they were being followed. Lamonte swore under his breath and placed the young boy on the ground. “Go to the dock, look for a ship with a wolfs head on the flag, talk to Vinci, tell him what has happened and follow his commands.”
“But..” Twice today Darius was being told to run away from someone he was looking to for protection.
“Run Darius now, I can’t let them get you!”
Darius turned running for the small hamlet in the distance, hearing the sounds of yelling and fighting far behind. His eyes threatened to tear up again, but another side of him fought against them, telling himself that he needed to be brave like Lamonte.
Footsteps sounded behind him, and at first the boy paused thinking they could be Lamonte, but that idea was quickly thrown out the window when one growled, “Where is the brat?” A raspy voice echoed off the trees, followed by breaking branches. Darius picked up his pace, his small legs propelling him forward onto the main street of the town.
People were bustling around, carrying baskets of produce, meats and other goods; some were startled by the haggard appearance of the young and familiar Redmont boy. A couple kinder folks tried to stop the young boy and ask what was going on but Lamonte’s voice kept echoing in his head and his two pursuers popped out of the tree line yards behind him, following the trail of confused looks and startled farmers.
An elderly farmer stepped between the boy and the strangers, holding up a hand, one of the armored men snapped the elder man’s arm, causing him to scream in pain, causing others to take a step back. Darius glanced back, seeing dark red eyes of the armored men tracking his movements. He was running out of breath, his lungs getting tight, he stumbled onto the pier, eyes swirling as they tried to focus on each flag high above. A grey wolf head was plastered on the third boats flag and he staggered toward it, body feeling spent.
“Grab him!” A voice roared from behind, Darius turning his head to see the two armored men dropping onto the wooden planks without slowing. Darius felt fear well up in his chest and stumbled forward, a loose board popped up and hit him in the shin causing him to yell and fall.
His young mind tried to comprehend death, what would it be like, would it hurt? A shadow falls over grey eyes and he clinches them closed not wanting to see it happen. Two thuds follow the shadow and after a moment Darius opens his eyes. A short and stout man stands next to him in a sweat marked shirt, a large handle-bar mustache covering his upper lip, the only sign of hair on his entire skull. A small crossbow is held in each hand, Darius turns his eyes to the attackers, and both forms lay on the ground.
“Darius get on board the ship, we are setting sail it isn’t safe here anymore.” The man’s voice was deep and gruff as though he’d be inhaling tobacco smoke his whole life. Darius nodded and stumbled to the gangway, the bald man catching up to him and dragging him up.
“I’m Vinci and this is The Wolf, my ship, she’s a beauty isn’t she?” The man spoke as though Darius was answering, “You and I have some things to discuss, your father thought this day would come, I was the contingency plan for your survival.”
Darius frowned at the conversation, already tired; none of it was making sense. “What?” The small voice was almost lost as Vinci shouted for men to get the ship ready to sail. The bald man looked down at him, eyes squinted against the light.
“You are part of a family of slayers and your father picked me to watch over you in the event of his death. Get below, we will be underway soon and then I will talk to you.” The man roughly pushed Darius down a hatch into the bowels of the ship.
Darius curled up almost defensively, what was going on, why was this happening? He felt tears come to his eyes, he wished he could be home, eating his mom’s lunch; it probably would have been roast pheasant with cranberry stuffing. His hands found a thick rope and he pulled himself close around it and the semi-darkness finding some comfort, his body emotionally and physically exhausted he found himself falling asleep as the ship got underway.
Posted: Thu Jun 28, 2012 12:22 am
