If you are hearing this, it means I'm either captured or dead. Probably both, knowing my luck.
It was an inescapable truth, one that lingered like a shadow over my thoughts. I could sense that the moment was drawing near, a chilling certainty that gnawed at my insides. These relentless hunters proved nearly impossible to outsmart. Once they locked onto your scent, a primal dance of predator and prey began, and it was only a matter of time before they encroached upon your very being. This particular breed of creature has been relentlessly pursuing my family for generations, their merciless hunt weaving through our history like a dark thread.
As a human surrounded by these formidable beings, my existence feels like a precarious gamble, where every heartbeat echoes with the threat of imminent danger. The only glimmer of hope that keeps me moving forward is the thought of my family. I picture a serene sanctuary, a place where we can truly relax without the weight of anxiety pressing down on us.
The world we inhabit is a treacherous one, teeming with dangers lurking around every corner. If you find yourself captured, you might consider it a stroke of luck; many of the entities that roam this land would not think twice before ending your life on the spot.
Often, being taken prisoner leads to a bleak future as a slave in the hands of vampires, who relish their dominion over others. Yet, should your captors be of a different kind, like the cunning beasts that prowl the dense forests, your fate is likely to be even more dire. These merciless beings are known for their brutality and have little room for mercy, ensuring that once you are in their grasp, the chances of escape—and survival—dwindle to almost none.
For as long as I can remember, my family and I have lived a life of perpetual motion, shifting from one town to another, never allowing ourselves to settle in a single place long enough to call it home.
After countless years of movement, we have finally discovered a fragile sanctuary in a weather-beaten, crumbling building on the outskirts of Windsparrow. This once-grand structure, marked by time with its chipped, faded paint and sagging floors, holds a certain charm that resonates deeply within me. It may lack the comforts and stability of a traditional home, but it is the closest I have ever come to feeling anchored.
During my visit to the neighboring town, I found it smaller than expected but with a charm of its own. The locals, numbering around 100, have a unique accent that I couldn't quite place—it was distinct from where my family and I were from. Despite its size, the town's character and the peculiar accents of its residents left a lasting impression on me.
They always say the same weird phrase.
Glas do dhorsan, tarraing iad gu teann. Bi mothachail air Prionnsa na h-Oidhche. Thig e air do shon, mar sin bi ullaichte. Oir aon uair 's gun tig e cha bhith thu air do shàbhaladh.
I never understood the meaning behind it; they seemed to whisper it with a blend of fear and curiosity whenever my family walked by. It wasn't until many years later that I pieced together the fragments of their hushed words and the gravity they carried. Each time the memory resurfaces, a chill races down my spine, reminding me of the unsettling truth that lingered in the air like an unspoken secret.
After spending three long years in that quaint little town our peaceful existence was abruptly shattered. It happened on a clear night, the stars twinkling like scattered diamonds across the vast sky—a night that felt deceptively serene. Our world came crashing down when our pursuers finally tracked us down.
Caught off guard, we had no chance to escape the dread that surged through the air like a thunderstorm waiting to break. The calm we had built around us turned into a nightmare.
Unbeknownst to me, we weren't just being pursued by ordinary vampires—no, those creatures of the night were mere pawns. We were being hunted by the mighty Royal Vampires, a ruthless lineage that ruled the entire world with an iron fist, their power and influence stretching far beyond our imaginations.
Their cold, commanding presence was palpable, and with it came an overwhelming sense of dread. Shadows entwined with the moonlight, reflecting hints of danger in their crimson eyes. We were now trapped in a story far darker than we could ever have envisioned.