ancient secrets

Chapter One
Shadows
“Such a beautiful night,” he said silently, walking down a beaten dirt road observing the foliage, alone and in the dark, “it’d be a shame to see it wasted.” Long had this fellow wasted the time he was allowed to roam on trivial matters, such as murder and revenge, greed, self centered concerns where no one but he had anything to gain. Of course, this night would not differ from the norm, but he would spend his time pursuing health and accomplishment instead of greed and anger, and vengeance. He swore it not only to him, but to the one whom he was to protect, that one soul that kept him going through dark, light, thick and thin, moon or no moon, hell or high water. He would no longer walk the lonely road of the forgotten traitor, the simple minded fool whose only reason to live was to hate. From this point on, he was to care. He was to love.
He was to live.
But his stalker would not hear, for these words to him were mute. Alone, he was the most vulnerable target in the night’s sky, under the moon and walking a path easily followed by a blind man, let alone a highly skilled, extremely efficient and well-trained assassin in the employ of one of the world’s most nefarious crime lords. This person, this man who would walk and ponder, and think of reform, was a weak hearted fool, a simple minded moron who would fall to his hatred as soon as it fell to him. He had little or no control, for he was not human, this the assassin knew, and that the sooner he was gone the better, not just for his employer but for all of mankind. This creature, this wretched beast, an empty shadow of a human whose purpose in life was to take and give nothing back was to be punished for his sins against the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. He was to no longer walk this world as a sinner, a defiler of the will of the heavens; he was to be placed in his only belonging location, the darkest, deepest most painful lakes of lava deep within the dark recesses of the seventh layer of hell.
As he thought this, the man in the bushes raised his long, rather weighted rifle, and through a high-powered scope with a range of up to 1,000 meters looked down upon the target, walking down a dirt road in the middle of a forest thick and laden with foliage, from the high tops of a cliff covered in similar brush. Blended perfectly, he knew that the smell of his blood would keep him hidden, as it would be suppressed by the surrounding brush and deep dirt which he himself had situated himself upon.
As he looked down upon his target, he uttered the prayer of his employers, rubbing a thumb and finger against a cross that hanged around his thin, lanky neck as he did so.
“In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, may this soul find peace and belonging in the afterlife, and may his death be purer than his life was. Amen.”
His finger flexed to pull the trigger, but as soon as he fired, he realized the target had gone. No longer was it in his sight, and behind him he heard a voice that both excited and frightened him.
“Wretched human, you don’t deserve to even look at me as I kill you!”
And before he could indeed look, he had been shot through the back once and in the head twice. Lavin kicked the body down the cliff, and as it bumped its way and rattled down the side, a small avalanche of pebbles followed.
The figure behind him, wearing a red winter vest, a black shirt and blue jeans, put his weapon back in his pocket and reached for his belt, which had a communicator device attached. He withdrew the small, black Motorola phone and flipped it open.
“This is Lavin. Target location confirmed, enemy destroyed. I suggest that you bring down a clean up crew…he had a rather nasty spill down the mountain.”
“I thought we told you to be more careful, Lavin?”
“When you bring an ex-serial killer into your occult, expect a little sadism on my part.”
“Right.”
“Anyway, I’ll be off to my own devices now. Keep my bed made while I’m gone.”
“Don’t worry, she won’t sneak in again.”
“She’d @#$* better not. Lavin out.”

The one who made these silent promises to himself as he walked down the road, he was not Lavin. Merely a decoy, created by the priest’s mind, he was hunting an imaginary figment, one who would not breathe, one who would not eat, only one who would function as the priest imagined. He was false in both his convictions and existence, and the priest was more easily tricked than Lavin was ready to believe. This wretched beast, this so called servant of Christ, God and the Holy ghost was nothing more than a pretender. He walked away from the body, and as he did so he spat at the name Christ. He, the @#$* was to not be accepted into the fold of the loved humans. He was nothing more than an empty shell.
He, and all others like him were shadows, and like the moon, they functioned in the shadows of the light.






Chapter Two
The House of Nine
She cursed the deities of the heavens, and spat the liquid upon the ground.
“I refuse to drink the blood of my own kind!”
“But Sabrina, if you don’t drink you will become weak, and won’t be able to move!”
“Is this what I’ve become, Xeldon? Is this what I’ve become? A murderer, someone who steals from others, and leeches off of their blood and very life to survive? I refuse to be associated with an inhuman monster!”
“Associated? Sabrina, you are one! You had a choice, and you made this one of your own free will, so now it is you who must live with the consequences of that choice. Like it or not, you are no longer among the human beings or race, you are a monster-“
“NO! I will NOT become a taker!”
“But Sabrina-“
“NO!” She tore herself away from Xeldon’s grip. Long had Sabrina wished for immortality, but little did she want to have to take life to get it. She was unlike most who chose to willingly turn, in that she had value for the life she gave up, and understood why some people did not wish to surrender their life style. Those who were asked, and turned it down naturally were made out to be insane, but they lived obscure lives and so it was of little consequence when an outsider found House of Nine or its patron’s true reasons and identities.


As she ran through the large, vaunted brick doors which protected her and her brethren from the light around them, she disappeared into darkness, tears running down her angular face right down to her tiny jaw, her blue eyes of ocean turned into blue eyes of misery and torment.
As she ran, she wondered how she’d came to her decision. She remembered the night it was made, and was saddened that, in the circumstances she was under she made such a choice. She remembered vividly…

Dust was thick in the air, as thick as blood and twice as dank. When walking upon the stony ground of this old, abandoned model to the ancient ways of the vampire, ancient memories of things he could not define, place or want to remember. He was a soul who was as lost in his own path as he was blinded to it. When he tried to find his way, his efforts were met with futility. And so, after trying for so long, Lavin had surrendered studying his past, and instead focused on the past of others.
Thinking about these things, Lavin walked throughout the stone monastery silently, the echo of his footsteps keeping him company every second of his trip through the establishment to religions long since past. Lavin had been assigned by the House of Nine to search a suspected Vampire cave near their location, and he was halfway through thusfar. While his trip revealed no vampires yet, he had found some rather interesting sights that he meant to see again.
“My, my, my….such an old, decrepit place,” he said silently, walking through the darkness of the temple, looking at everything in sight for some sign of vampirism. When, from the quiet corners of the cave erupted a tiny cry. It was a cry, a cry that reminded him of a child that had been lost in a toy-store and was crying because it was lonely. When he heard this cry, he could see with his ears the location that it erupted from.
Walking at a slightly faster pace than his previous interloping, he began to walk towards a small tunnel inside the catacombs of a tomb long since past. He walked faster as he heard the cry get louder, and then he saw what he had heard: in the corner of one of the catacombic rooms used to sleep in, a young woman was crying.
“Little girl, what are you doing here?” Lavin asked with little care or concern. The way he asked made her think that she was not welcome.
“I don’t know…” she replied, exhausted.
“I just know that I’m here and that I don’t know what I am supposed to do with myself…”
“Little girl, how did you get here?”
“I don’t know, sir…”
He bent down to examine her, as Lavin detected she was not entirely......well. As he searched her body for wounds, or injuries our other things that could tell of her weakness, he found it at last. She had been bitten by a vampire, and had her blood almost completely drained. She would die if she did not feed immediately.
“Little girl, you realize what these marks upon your neck are?” Lavin rubbed the wound on her neck with two fingers.
“No….”
“Well, this is a vampire bite, little girl. You have been drained of your blood and left to die, and if you do not get blood soon, then you will surely die.”
“Wha…where will I get blood?” She asked with a diminished strength and tolerance for being alive.
“Do you have a name, little girl?”
“Sa…Sabrina..”
“Sabrina. Such a nice name,” he said looking down upon her, holding one hand in his.
“Sabrina…do you want to live?”
“Yes…”
“Then you must feed.”
She looked up at him with surprise.
“Feed..?”
“Drink my blood.”
“Drink your blood?”
“Yes. Drinking from me will not only provide you with life, but lengthen that life as well. You alone will be responsible for your choice to become this creature, should you choose it. Do you wish to live?
Do you wish to have immortality..?”
“Please help me…”
“I take that as a yes.”
Lavin bit himself on his wrist, penetrating into a major artery.
He held the bleeding arm up to her.
“Feed, Sabrina…”

“Sabrina! Come back!” Xeldon awoke her from her daydream as she continued to run. He stood there, in his black camouflage military uniform, the insignia of the House of Nine on his shoulder, hands on hips worrying about one of their newest members.
“Let him go, Xeldon.” A man in a business uniform carrying a briefcase walked up behind him.
“She must find her own path through the darkness that she has brought onto herself. Do not try to hold her hand.” He pulled out a cigar, and lit it with a snap of his fingers.
“Besides, you have more important things to worry about, anyway. The Vatican’s soldiers are becoming harder and harder to hunt and kill, and every day more and more of the scum are traveling all the way from Rome to come and hunt us. Soon there will be open war, if we can’t contain this vampiric threat that the so few who are ruined must perpetrate.”
He blew a puff of smoke in front of him as he walked up to Xeldon’s side.
“Besides, you know better than I do what she’s going through.”
“That I do, indeed.”
As Roberts, the man in the business suit turned and walked away, he said something under his breath that Xeldon could barely register.
“Meeting in an hour. Do try to show up on time.”

Sabrina finally stopped her running just a mile away from the House of Nine, the headquarters of the House of Nine. She was not ready to accept the choice she impulsively made, the decision to become a taker of life and burglar of blood. As she finally stopped, she fell to the ground on her knees, and began to sob to herself silently, muttering to herself.
“Why…” she sobbed, “why must I be so inhuman? I wanted to live, not take life…” she continued to cry to herself silently. She looked down at her hands; they were turning pale white now.
“What’s wrong with my color?!” She screamed and cried, looking up to the heavans for an answer. Instead of god replying she instead got an answer from a new friend.
“You’re weakening, Sabrina.”
She looked upwards from her solemn position to see Lavin right in front of her, his massive army boots and black trenchcoat illuminated by the moon and stars above the treetops of the forest. He looked down at her with normal glasses on, rather rectangular in their shape, and took a step toward her.
“I told you that you would be the only one to blame should you choose this path,” he continued, “and now that you’ve chosen it you must live with the consequences. You cannot die by depriving yourself of blood. Instead, you will slowly weaken so that something as simple as the common cold will kill you. We, as vampires rely on blood to keep us healthy, active and strong. Depriving yourself of blood is like choosing not to eat or drink; the hunger will eventually set in. Only until you quench your thirst will you find peace. So accept your fate as a taker, and know that as much as you take you will give doubly back to both your own kind and the human race. Now,” Lavin outstretched his right hand, which was not difficult to see as it was in a white half finger glove.
“Take my hand, and I will show you a path through the darkness.”
Her sobbing stopped by his diatribe, she looked up at him, thinking for a minute. “These people must really want me,” she thought silently. “But why? Who would want me to be part of them? I’m inexperienced and weak, I’ll weigh them down….” her thoughts trail off as she knew it had been almost a minute since he asked the question. Looking up, her answer was a question.
“How can I trust you?”
“Sabrina,” he said, his hand still outstretched, “you already showed trust when you turned into a vampire.”
She looked up at him, tears in her eyes, and found peace in his gaze, knowing that while they were not known to each other, she knew him better than anything at the same time. Like a pillar of support for a temple in ancient Greece, Sabrina looked to Lavin like he was to help her stand on her own ground. She thought, “this man is my only hope for survival in this new world”, and as she did so, she realized that he was doing the right thing, and she should return the favor by accepting his act. His hand was outstretched, and reluctantly, her long slender fingers grasped it.
“Good…now….rest.”
She felt her eyes descend upon her like the heaviest of weights, and in a moment’s notice she was adrift in a sea of exhaustion.

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