Nightime isnt forever continued

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Heres where I left off...

"What do you mean by grave danger?" She asked in misunderstood voice. Victor shook his head, "They wernt lying when they said you didnt know." He said to himself. "What do I not know?" She asked now not knowing if she wanted to know. "You are the great daughter of Dracula, the father of all vampires, evil and good alike." She gasped, "What?!" She felt as if she were going to faint. He gave her a look, "Its true, you are the only left living of the true line of the first vampire of our creation, did you not know?" She turned her back to him. How could she be Dracula daughter, it just wasnt true. She turned back around,"How this come to be?" she whisperd. "When Dracula took Mena Harker and made her his bride they joined and you were conceived, but fear of you being killed by Van Helsing kept them from making you known to anyone;therefore you were sent away here to Robert and faimly for protection somehow Van Helsings great grandson has found out your location and is coming for you" He told her. "What did I do to him?" she asked him. "Just being related to Dracula had made you his enemy, he is coming for you and he will try to kill you." She looked at sky and relized it had suddenly became to quiet, she then got a bad feeling. "We have to get back to the compound, something doesnt feel right." she said to him fear rising in chest. They both took off in a run for the compound, Maria smelled the smoke before she reached it.
As they rounded the bend she saw where the smoke was coming from, it was the compound
She began to yell for Robert but was receiving no answer. Suddenly something caught her eyesight, there on a tree was letter. Maria ran to it and took it from the tree, it read if you ever want to see your precious vampire scum again you will meet me in two days in Venice Italy near the big church with a cross out front, and it was signed Van Helsing the third.
Im going to go ahead and leave you wondering whats next, see ya untill next time
see people with your heart and not your eyes




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Even more better
We get off to the rhythm of the trigger and destruction. Fallujah to New Orleans with impunity to kill. We are the hidden fist of the free market.
We are the ink, we are the quill.
[The Ink And The Quill (Be Afraid) - Anti-Flag]




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Thanks Ill write more when I have the time...Its gets better right now shes just discovering her true destiny and later shell learn theres more to the story buts that not for awhile...hope you enjoy it
see people with your heart and not your eyes




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Yeah sure i ave to continue the story on another Thread now
We get off to the rhythm of the trigger and destruction. Fallujah to New Orleans with impunity to kill. We are the hidden fist of the free market.
We are the ink, we are the quill.
[The Ink And The Quill (Be Afraid) - Anti-Flag]




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Heh - a lot of the advice I gave you in your last piece seems redundant now - this one is a lot better :).

My only problem is the lack of paragraphs - it makes it kindda hard to read in places.
I wrote the above just for you.




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In my opinion, it seems like the story is movig a bit too fast, with little explanation--as long as all this is explained to me later, I will be content. Good work overall, keep it up.




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I second what Hunter said. Split up the paragraphs, and slow it down big time. The story could be great if it's given the proper time and attention.

Grammar note: "What do I not know?" She asked. should be "What do I not know?" she asked. Remember, you're not starting a new sentence, and therefor don't need to capitalize the "she"
Please, sit down before you fall down.
Belloq, "Raiders of the Lost Ark"




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Thanx and if anyones interested you can give me some more ideas and i can possibly use them...I start to split it up and explain more.
see people with your heart and not your eyes



I only know that learning to believe in the power of my own words has been the most freeing experience of my life. It has brought me the most light. And isn't that what a poem is? A lantern glowing in the dark.
— Elizabeth Acevedo, The Poet X