A Hunt for Stranger Things than Cattle
Posted: Mon Dec 30, 2002 6:55 am
If you go south far enough of Myrken Wood, you'll come upon a rather large prairie. Nothing but grass and the occasional tree stretching on for miles and miles to come; the area was unnamed officially, as no nation cared for it. There was nothing to be had here. Surprising as it might be, few animals fit to eat could be found here. Just owls, rats, and their kin. No oxes or anything like that, as one might expect out of a prairie this size.
On one particular crystal clear night, something stranger shared its presence with the prairie. A silvery light basked the entire area in a hazy, ethereal glow as the vampire ran. Dashing through the waist high grass with all the demonic speed he could muster. He was being hunted, after all, and he knew the hunters wouldn't give him a split chance for survival.
He threw a glance back every so often, hoping not to see the twin hunters on his tail. His wish was granted, but it did not comfort him; these would not be the sort to simply chase him openly. Rather, they'd be hiding in the grass...the concealing grass, spread for miles and miles.
The vampire stopped at a tree, backing into it. He surveyed the surrounding area, watching for signs of movement, whether they come from the grass or from obvious sources - but the occasional breezes only threw his search off and made him nervous beyond extent.
A "cooo" issued from directly above the vampire, and he threw himself backwards from the tree, scrambling quickly to gain a footing to flee. During the said scrambling, he noticed that the noise had come from a simple owl. The vampire sighed, standing a little more slowly.
Turning back around to keep a vigilant watch, the vampire was absolutely frozen. There he was, the hunter he feared most - the man with the large scar across his throat. He never spoke, and the vampire began to doubt his ability to do so. He rose a claw to the vampire - the claw wasn't his hand, mind you, but some wicked spikes that protruded from a pair of guantlets.
The vampire spun about, left foot stepping forward before he even fully finished the spin. All he saw was the quick gleam of silvery metallic and a face that, while matching the other hunter's face to quite the degree, lacked the scar upon the throat.
The vampire who had so recently inherited his demonic powers was thus quickly sent back to the realm his kin spawned in.
On one particular crystal clear night, something stranger shared its presence with the prairie. A silvery light basked the entire area in a hazy, ethereal glow as the vampire ran. Dashing through the waist high grass with all the demonic speed he could muster. He was being hunted, after all, and he knew the hunters wouldn't give him a split chance for survival.
He threw a glance back every so often, hoping not to see the twin hunters on his tail. His wish was granted, but it did not comfort him; these would not be the sort to simply chase him openly. Rather, they'd be hiding in the grass...the concealing grass, spread for miles and miles.
The vampire stopped at a tree, backing into it. He surveyed the surrounding area, watching for signs of movement, whether they come from the grass or from obvious sources - but the occasional breezes only threw his search off and made him nervous beyond extent.
A "cooo" issued from directly above the vampire, and he threw himself backwards from the tree, scrambling quickly to gain a footing to flee. During the said scrambling, he noticed that the noise had come from a simple owl. The vampire sighed, standing a little more slowly.
Turning back around to keep a vigilant watch, the vampire was absolutely frozen. There he was, the hunter he feared most - the man with the large scar across his throat. He never spoke, and the vampire began to doubt his ability to do so. He rose a claw to the vampire - the claw wasn't his hand, mind you, but some wicked spikes that protruded from a pair of guantlets.
The vampire spun about, left foot stepping forward before he even fully finished the spin. All he saw was the quick gleam of silvery metallic and a face that, while matching the other hunter's face to quite the degree, lacked the scar upon the throat.
The vampire who had so recently inherited his demonic powers was thus quickly sent back to the realm his kin spawned in.