Bre Stephens - Vampyre Paladin - Prologue
This document was uploaded by user and they confirmed that they have the permission to share it. If you are author or own the copyright of this book, please report to us by using this DMCA report form. Report DMCA
Overview
Download & View Bre Stephens - Vampyre Paladin - Prologue as PDF for free.
More details
- Words: 670
- Pages: 4
The Vampyre Paladin By
Bre Stephens
Revised v.1 March 22, 2019
PROLOGUE I arrived by taxi at a three-story white house that had two tall, smooth pillars supporting a balcony. The driver left after I paid, making no small talk whatsoever. It was like he knew that some kind of evil was at play and he wanted to vacate the premises post haste. Once he was gone, there was nothing left but me on the outside of the Holstadtler home. I stared at the house, examining its structure. One light was lit on the third floor, two on the second, and the whole front end of the first. If the girl’s room was one of the dark ones, she would be lost to us, but, if her room was the one with light, then I knew I could save her. The outside was normal enough. The driveway was icy and lined in snow-covered grass. The porchlight was on. A wreathe hung from the dark red door. The black trim around the windows subdued the stark contrast of red and white. I proceeded up the driveway, steady on my feet, my senses sharp. Once I stepped onto the low porch, I sprang around, grabbed inside my coat pocket, and peered into the darkness, watching, waiting for the Master to appear before me. My breathing was deep, intense; my heart thumped as blood coursed through my veins. I peered into the darkness and listened a bit more.
A creaking sound from the neighbor’s swing set was the only sound on the air. The smell was of the cold, nothing more. After a minute or so, I released my grip on the pointed, wooden weapon from inside my pocket and rapped on the door loudly in succession. A maid opened the door, bowed, and stepped back so I could enter. As I did, a man in black dress pants and a maroon velvet jacket was walking down an elegant winding staircase with wrought-iron details. He blended into the night sky that shone through the six thin arch windows behind him. His black hair turned brown as he descended the stairs, coming into the bright light of the chandelier overhead. He stopped near the bottom and stared at me. His eyes were cold, defeated, like the eyes of a man who just lost everything. He just stood there, watching me. I could feel the sad song that his heart sang. He finally turned and the maid gestured me to follow. I walked up the gleaming marble staircase and, step by step, left the light for darkness. The closer to the second floor I climbed, the darker the view became. Coldness overtook me, and a shiver ran down my spine as the light I loved so much bled into night. The second floor was drenched in darkness, the hall void of lights. I wondered how anyone would navigate the hall without any illumination, but the man had no trouble walking forward with only himself as a guide. I eyed him deliberately, watching for signals and gestures that would indicate the way. We passed several rooms, but he did not pause; rather, he continued until we arrived at the last room on the left. The man stood facing the door. He would not move. He did not speak. It was as if he were scared, debilitated, ashamed. His constitution weakened, life draining from him as if death
itself were leeching off his soul. A few moments passed and yet he still did not move. I was about to say something when he finally spoke. “She’s my only daughter, Mr. Kade.” His voice was shaky, his lip no doubt quivering. The tears in his eyes shone brightly in each word he said. “Do whatever it is you need to. Just save her.” “What’s her name?” “Sara. She’s only thirteen.” “I’ll do as I can.” The man took a deep breath, slipped his hand slowly around the door knob, exhaled a deep sigh, and pushed open the door.
Bre Stephens
Revised v.1 March 22, 2019
PROLOGUE I arrived by taxi at a three-story white house that had two tall, smooth pillars supporting a balcony. The driver left after I paid, making no small talk whatsoever. It was like he knew that some kind of evil was at play and he wanted to vacate the premises post haste. Once he was gone, there was nothing left but me on the outside of the Holstadtler home. I stared at the house, examining its structure. One light was lit on the third floor, two on the second, and the whole front end of the first. If the girl’s room was one of the dark ones, she would be lost to us, but, if her room was the one with light, then I knew I could save her. The outside was normal enough. The driveway was icy and lined in snow-covered grass. The porchlight was on. A wreathe hung from the dark red door. The black trim around the windows subdued the stark contrast of red and white. I proceeded up the driveway, steady on my feet, my senses sharp. Once I stepped onto the low porch, I sprang around, grabbed inside my coat pocket, and peered into the darkness, watching, waiting for the Master to appear before me. My breathing was deep, intense; my heart thumped as blood coursed through my veins. I peered into the darkness and listened a bit more.
A creaking sound from the neighbor’s swing set was the only sound on the air. The smell was of the cold, nothing more. After a minute or so, I released my grip on the pointed, wooden weapon from inside my pocket and rapped on the door loudly in succession. A maid opened the door, bowed, and stepped back so I could enter. As I did, a man in black dress pants and a maroon velvet jacket was walking down an elegant winding staircase with wrought-iron details. He blended into the night sky that shone through the six thin arch windows behind him. His black hair turned brown as he descended the stairs, coming into the bright light of the chandelier overhead. He stopped near the bottom and stared at me. His eyes were cold, defeated, like the eyes of a man who just lost everything. He just stood there, watching me. I could feel the sad song that his heart sang. He finally turned and the maid gestured me to follow. I walked up the gleaming marble staircase and, step by step, left the light for darkness. The closer to the second floor I climbed, the darker the view became. Coldness overtook me, and a shiver ran down my spine as the light I loved so much bled into night. The second floor was drenched in darkness, the hall void of lights. I wondered how anyone would navigate the hall without any illumination, but the man had no trouble walking forward with only himself as a guide. I eyed him deliberately, watching for signals and gestures that would indicate the way. We passed several rooms, but he did not pause; rather, he continued until we arrived at the last room on the left. The man stood facing the door. He would not move. He did not speak. It was as if he were scared, debilitated, ashamed. His constitution weakened, life draining from him as if death
itself were leeching off his soul. A few moments passed and yet he still did not move. I was about to say something when he finally spoke. “She’s my only daughter, Mr. Kade.” His voice was shaky, his lip no doubt quivering. The tears in his eyes shone brightly in each word he said. “Do whatever it is you need to. Just save her.” “What’s her name?” “Sara. She’s only thirteen.” “I’ll do as I can.” The man took a deep breath, slipped his hand slowly around the door knob, exhaled a deep sigh, and pushed open the door.
