Young Writers Society

“Now Listen, I’m taking a bit of a gamble here by having you with me. So don’t embarrass me,”

the man driving the car said, with a noticeable Kentucky accent, to the youth sitting beside him.

“The others, they don’t suffer disrespect well, and any from you would be met brutally. You are still too new to our world; you wouldn’t last a minute against any of them.”

“So why are you bringing me?” the youth asked

“Because Alexander expressed interest in the newest member of his family. His coven was rather small until mine joined him, and he wants to know how having such a new family member will affect the coven.”



The car, a sleek black Lincoln Continental, pulled up on the corner of the street, down the block from the actual entrance to their destination. A line of various other luxury cars stretched before them on both sides of the street. The road itself was a long u-turn that stretched up a hill to a modest manor home. Large lights illuminated the walkway of red tiles. The mansion itself was vaguely Victorian with some French and Spanish influences.

“Do you remember the rules I told you?” the man asked the youth, who replied, “Yes. Don’t speak unless spoken to if near a senior. I stay by your side unless dismissed. I will be respectful and not embarrass you” The older man gave a small smile of satisfaction as he responded, “Very good. Now come on, we’re late”. The two of them stepped out of the car and took a quick look over each other before walking.



The older man had a tall and filled-out figure. Not a hefty one, but one with meat on the bones. His face was sharp and hawkish, with prominent cheekbones and jaw. His hair was dirty blonde, finely trimmed, and swept back. Dark red eyes stared out from his face, and a bit of blond facial hair dusted his chin. His clothes were vaguely western, fine black suit shirt with a dark brown vest over it, simple black pants, and fine cowboy boots. The vest had gold embroidered designs along the chest. He didn’t seem to be out of his twenties, but his eyes showed a wisdom that only comes with age. The youth on the other hand, only looked to be about 16. He was tall, but not as tall as his companion. His hair was dark black and shoulder length; it fell all around his head and face, obscuring parts of his face. His eyes weren’t quite red yet; it mixed with the brown to give them a copper color. His face was thin and slightly gaunt; he hadn’t quite recovered from the transformation. Unlike his companion, his outfit was somewhat more modern. It was a simple, unbuttoned black suit jacket with a plain white shirt underneath, black pants, and tattered sneakers.



Once they were satisfied that they were presentable, they made their way up to the manor house. A man greeted them at the door. He had a large frame and looked like he could snap the both of them in half with one hand. Thankfully, he seemed to know the older of the pair fairly well.

“Jonathan!! Where have ye been laddie? We’ve been missing you on the hunts,” the man asked with a loud, boisterous voice that had a thick Scottish accent.

Jonathan replied with a grin, “Blake, you know I’ve been busy with our new little brother.” He motioned to his companion.

Blake looked over the youth before saying, “So this is our new family member. What did you say his name was?”

“Markus”

“Right! That was his name. So laddie, you think you’re ready to meet the rest of your new family?”

Markus gave his mentor a questioning look and got a nod in return, before answering, “I…yeah, I guess.”

“Not exactly a talkative sort is he?” Blake chuckled, turning his attention back to Jonathan, who replied “He’s nervous, it’s to be expected. You don’t meet your new family every day, after all.” J

onathan put his hand on Markus’ shoulder before asking, “Are you going to let us in or make us stand out here talking to you all night?” Blake grinned and stepped aside, hand over his heart in mock hurt. “Oh Jon, you’re a cruel one you are. Go head on in, they’re expecting their other guest of honor, and its best not to keep them waiting” Jonathan paused, asking “What do you mean?”

“Cynthia brought a new sister into the fold last night”

“Did she bring her?”
“Yes, though why Alexander is allowing it is beyond me.” Blake shrugged and motioned for them to step inside. Jonathan nodded his head in thanks and walked in.

The doors opened into a large foyer. The room was very open and had a relaxed feel to it. A small instrumental band played in the corner while a group of about thirty-five danced a light waltz in pairs in the center of the room. Off to the right, the rest of the people were lounging about on sofas. A couple of conversations were being held between groups of men and women sporting a variety of vaguely formal outfits that ranged from the subtle and refined to jaunty and outlandish. A number were smoking cigarettes, the rest were holding drinks that varied from red wine to cans of beer. At the center of it all was a man lounging in a black silk couch with his feet resting on a coffee table. He had an average frame, and there was charisma about him. The entire room seemed to gravitate around him. His appearance was fearsome; somebody who knew how to take care of himself. He had a thin face with strong features. Short naturally red hair was done up in spikes on his head, and he had a thick goatee around his mouth. He was dressed in an unzipped black leather jacket with nothing underneath, showing off a toned body and torn jeans held up by a large belt with a silver skull buckle. He wore heavy combat boots and black, fingerless gloves.



It was to this sofa the pair headed, Jonathan leading the way with Markus following closely behind. They almost made it there unnoticed the man stood up suddenly with a big grin on his face as he spoke: “Jonathan!! Good to see ya’ lad.”
His voice was loud and cheerful, but with a gruff accent.

“Alexander, the pleasure’s all mine,” Jonathan responded, giving a slight nod of his head in greeting.

“It’s about time you showed your face again; I had all but given up hope on you. Is that our newest little brother behind you?” Alexander turned his head from Jonathan to Markus, trying to get a first impression of the youth. “Well, don’t just hide behind Jonathan like a scared puppy, come on out then.”

Jonathan pushed Markus forward to meet Alexander, who asked, “So you’re Markus then. Bit on the young side, dontcha’ think?” Jonathan shrugged and replied, “He’s young, yes, but weren’t we all at one point?”

“Aye, that’s truth.” “So laddie,” Alexander began, turning his attention to the youth standing in front of him, “what’s your story? How’d you come about meeting our western friend here?”



Markus gave a questioning look to Jonathan, who nodded slightly, before turning back to Alexander and replying,

“I…Well, my parents separated about a year ago, and I’d been sort of alternating between living with my mom and my dad, neither of whom really wanted me. I was walking around the block that my dad lived in, trying to cool off after another argument with him, when two strange guys grab me and pull me into an alleyway. They mugged me at knifepoint before beating me nearly to death and stabbing me. Anyway, I was lying on the ground, bleeding to death, when Jonathan finds me and asks if I want to live. I say yes, of course, and he gives me the dark gift.” Markus finished and waited for a response from Alexander, who took a moment to digest the story before replying,

“Well. That was certainly unfortunate. But it was through that that we gained our newest little brother, and for that we are grateful.” Alexander clapped his hand on Markus’s shoulder and nodded before turning his attention back to Jonathan. Markus moved out of the way and was about to find somewhere to sit down and be out of the way when another voice rang out from the stairs.

“Jonathan you old devil, I thought you weren’t coming.” The voice came from a woman walking slowly down the stairs. Her voice had the faintest hint of an English accent, enough to make her sound noble and high class. Jonathan grimaced slightly before replying,

“Well Cynthia, you know how persuasive Alexander can be.”

She gave a tight smile, though her eyes shot daggers at him. She was a striking woman; her frame was tall and thin but with well defined muscles, like a cat built for hunting. Short brown hair hung framed her face, showing off a well defined facial structure. She wore a simple black dress that was tight in all the right places, showing off her best features. It stopped about mid calf in front while trailing behind a few inches in the back.



There was someone else with her, a girl about the same age as Markus. She was different than everyone else in the room in several ways. While most of the people had a light skin tone, she was naturally tanned skin. Tribal tattoos crisscrossed down her arms, several scars marred her left cheek, and her eyes had the coldness of someone used to hardship. She wore a tight black tank top which stopped just above her waist, black leather pants, and ratty sneakers. All of this made her look attractive and dangerous. Both of them had this look, but Cynthia looked like she would poison your food on your wedding day, while the other girl looked like she would just cut your throat without second thought. All of which made Markus, as well as some of the other young vampires, immediately want her. The pair made it down the stairs and to the small group in just enough time to keep them waiting while not taking too long. Cynthia looked Markus over with a critical eye, making him feel intensely uncomfortable before saying,

“So this is our new little brother? Not much to look at, but perhaps he will prove valuable.”

Jonathan took a subtle step forward, sliding slightly in front of Markus before saying, “I have my reasons for turning him, as I’m sure you do for her.”

He nodded his head slightly towards the girl. Cynthia smiled in a way that did not make her look friendly at all while she replied “Katilena here has many skills that will be usefully once she’s fully turned, and under my tutelage, will fit in perfectly.”

It was at that point that Alexander stepped in, getting between them as he said “They are both fine additions to our family. In fact,” He paused as he took a wine glass filled with deep red liquid and stood on a table

“we are a continually growing family. First there were the McAngherians” A cheer rose among some of the people gathered, “then the Lucairds Joined us” Another cheer rose among a different group, Jonathan and Cynthia raising a glass as well, “and now two more family members, Markus and Katilena.” Everyone cheered as they both tried to become invisible “I propose a toast. To family. Soon we will be one to rule the entire city of Chicago” Everyone cheered, creating a dull roar with whistling and clapping.



After a few seconds, it died down except for one set of hands still clapping slowly. After another second, it didn’t stop, and everyone cleared a space to look at the one still clapping. It felt like a chill wind rushed through the room, the dread filling the hearts of so many guests, Jonathan and Cynthia among them, was so powerful. Several tinkling crashes were heard as whatever drinks some were holding fell to the floor. Standing at the end of an aisle of people, was a very old man. He stopped clapping after a moment, took the cane that was cradled in the crook of his arm, held it in his hand, and looked over the crowd of people. The man looked liked someone had exhumed a two day old corpse. His skin was deathly pale, his eyes and cheeks were sunken in, wrinkled skin was hanging off the strong facial features he had. His hair was sickly silver color, finely trimmed and combed back, what was visible under the wide brimmed black hat anyway. His frame was thin and not very tall, covered by a fine two piece suit with red tie. Leather dress shoes were on his feet. His right hand held an ebony cane with a gold top piece carved in the shape of a praying angel with her wings outstretched backwards behind her. Alexander, after a moment of stunned silence, asked angrily,

“Who are you sir, and how did you get past the doorman?”

The man was silent as he began walking forward, his cane tapping the linoleum floor in time with his own steps. “My name is Mr. Lucard. And I’ve come to propose a toast of my own”

His voice was deep and croaking with a thick Eastern European accent. It was at that point that Blake stumbled in door, his face battered and bruised, and his right arm hanging limply at his side. He ran forward, calling, “Don’t let him get neaacckkgh.” He was cut off suddenly by Lucard suddenly turning around and, with unnatural speed even among their kind, shoving his cane up through Blake’s mouth and out the top part of his skull. After a moment, he put his foot on Blake’s chest and kicked while savagely pulling his cane backwards. The result was the head separating from the body, and the body flying back towards the door.

Lucard grinned evilly and said, “To retribution. May it be a satisfying as I hope.”

he then swung the cane with the head still on it towards Alexander. The head slipped perfectly off the cane and flew through the air, bouncing and landing directly at Alexander’s feet, the surprised expression still on its face.



Alexander stared for a few seconds, then growled angrily and sprang forward, fist raised, unnatural speed making him slightly blurry. Lucard silently waited for him to get closer, and then sprang to the side, sticking his leg out to trip Alexander. Alexander managed to avoid being tripped, but he was obviously outmatched as Lucard swung his cane towards his face, hitting him twice with sickening sounds. Before Alexander even had time to reel backwards in pain, Lucard took his cane and shoved it through Alexander’s chest, right where the heart was. Alexander stood there stunned before he started coughing up blood, his brain not yet realizing he was dead. He had just enough time to look down in amazement at the long piece of ebony wood shoved through his chest before going limp. Lucard pulled the cane out of Alexander’s body and continued leaning on it, not a drop of blood marring the smooth surface. The entire scene took about eight seconds. Another second passed as everyone in the room realized what happened, and then the room burst into chaos. Every vampire but four charged the old man, not comprehending that he just killed the best fighter out of all of them in less than ten seconds. Markus and Katilena were both grabbed by their masters and whisked away up the stairs, trying to get away from what they knew would be a blood bath.

Lucard barely noticed them leaving, knowing he'd get to them later. For now, he had the horde to deal with. He grabbed the bottom of his cane and started swinging, the golden top slammming into the first wave of his attackers and crushing their skulls. Grey matter and chunks of skull flew as he cleared a path away from the majority. It was a like watching a well planned fight scene. Lucard was a master of this art, and it showed. They rarely got their hands on him, and when they did he sent them flying. Of course he was surrounded, but that didn't even faze him. He swung and stabbed his way out of the horde without breaking a sweat. Once he broke free, he turned and smiled evily. Another group was coming at him, while some older and more intelligent ones hung back and waited for an opportunity. This next group pulled out slender knives or small guns and came at him. Bullets, nowhere near powerful enough to stop him, began flying as Lucard moved. He was never in one spot long enough for them to get a bead on him, and their bullets passed harmlessly by where he had been just a second ago. windows, large decorative pots, and picture frames shattered from the fire. Lucard took the gunmen out first, suddenly appearing in front of them and shoving his cane through their heart, or in one case, shoved the heart of out of the body. The rest of them got close enough to slash at him, but again, he was always gone before they connected. He led them around for a little bit, enjoying their attempts to hurt him. And as always, not a drop of blood seemed to touch him. He seperated the attackers, then picked them off one by one. He tore heads off, stabbed hearts, and in one case, simply crushed a skull under his heel on accident.

The remaining of the horde were older ones, one or two he remembered but didn't think highly of. They had managed to get to their proper weapons while he dealt with the shock troops. One came back with two very large revolvers, another appeared with a shimmering clamore. There were seven of them, all of them fairly aged, all with powerful weapons. If Lucard didn't know better, he might have nervous.

He straighted his suit up, leaned on his cane and asked "So who wants a go first"

They looked at each other, nodded, and all charged at the same time. They never stood a chance. Lucard noticed a few stragglers, a couple that had tried to hide or escape. He grinned evily and made his way over to them.



All of them went into the first room they saw, a small bedroom to the right of the stairs. Jonathan tipped a thick wardrobe in front of the door after they slammed it shut. Then they all just stood there, not believing what they just saw. Cynthia was the first one to speak in a quiet tone, “I didn’t believe he would ever recover, let alone find us.”

“None of us did, though I’ve had a really bad feeling the last couple days.” Jonathan replied, shaking his head.

Cynthia nodded in reply “I had it too, I just couldn’t identify it.”

They were silent again for a few moments, then Katilena asked, “Who is that guy and how did he just kill Alexander without breaking a sweat?”

Jonathan looked over at Cynthia and asked “Have you told her our history?”

“Please Jon, she’s only been with us for a night, what do you think?” Cynthia snapped back, her usual decorum now shattered.

Jonathan didn’t care; he knew what was going on.

“Alright then, I’ll do it. Markus, I’ve told you a little bit, but here is the full story. About a hundred and twenty years ago, there was a coven of our kind called the Lucairds. Cynthia and I were part of it. We lived in a decent sized mining town in northeast Nevada, away from most of the world. We weren’t especially large or powerful, but what made us unique was the fact that we had one of the few true ancients as our leader. His name was Mr. Lucard. We didn’t know how old he was; all we knew was that he came from Eastern Europe, from a small area called ‘Meresti’. Anyway, one day a stranger came into town. He was a man who specialized in killing the unnatural. He found out about us somehow, and began ‘cleansing’ the town of our presence. He ambushed my brother in the dark and the townsfolk found his body the next morning. We all knew who did it, and Lucard sent one of our stronger brothers to take care of the man. His body was found the next morning as well. At that point, Lucard knew what he had to do, and with instructions for what to do if he failed, he confronted the man. We aren’t sure exactly what happened, but we knew that the next morning Lucard staggered in the front door of our home and collapsed, a long steel cross shoved into his heart. He had been mortally wounded, and special procedures were needed to keep him alive. Lucard fell into a deep coma, and wouldn’t wake up. After forty years, we began to suspect that he would never wake up. A great argument began in our coven, whether to leave him or continue waiting for him to wake up. I wanted to stay, but Cynthia was on the other side. It took ten years of arguing before we decided to leave in order to keep the coven together.Obviously it was a mistake."

Cynthia let out a short laugh and said, “A mistake? God, Jonathan, this is more then a mistake, this is a goddamn catastrophe. You know as well as I do not a single one of us is going to make it out of here alive.”

Jonathan glared at her, “No, I won’t let Markus die because of my sins. Here is what we’re going to do. Cynthia, you and I have to go out there and face him; we are the only ones with a chance of standing up to him. While we’re out there, Markus, Katilena, you need to watch and wait for a prime opportunity to escape. I don’t know when it will be, but I know there is a backdoor downstairs. There aren’t any stairs up here that lead to it though. So when you find a chance, you need to sprint as fast as you can and try to get past him while he is distracted. Okay?”

Markus raised an eyebrow at Jonathan; he didn’t actually think he could get away without that man noticing, did he? “Yea, okay”
Jonathan nodded and turned back to Cynthia, who said “Well that’s all fine and dandy Jonathan, but what if I want to survive too?”
“Then you better kick his ass the way you kicked mine a hundred years ago”

Markus watched from a hole in the wall as the pair stepped out onto the stairs and was immediately greeted by a grisly sight. Bodies were strewn about the room and laying in pools of blood. Some were missing their heads; others had large holes in their chests where their hearts were supposed to be. There were brains on the rafters and there was blood on the glass windows. And in the middle of it all stood the old man, holding a black teen male with what had once been fine hair that stuck out in all directions, but was now sticking to his head because of the blood.

Mr. Lucard was holding him in the air by his throat, and asking, “Now, you’ve seen what I’ve done to all your little friends, tell me where to find the last two I’m looking for or you’ll join them.”

“I’m…telling you….I…have…no…idea.” The teen was obviously in pain, but couldn’t do anything about it. Jonathan ran forward, despite Cynthia urging not to, and yelled, “Put him down Lucard, it’s us you want.”

Lucard turned and grinned evilly before tearing the teens head from his body and throwing it away. Jonathan grimaced at the sight. “Jonathan, I’ve been looking for you. You know, I wouldn’t have had to kill everyone if you hadn’t gone and hid. I had nothing against these other vampires, just the ones that abandoned me. But then again, you always were a bit of a coward weren’t you? And Cynthia, I’m rather surprised to see you here. You were never a coward, but you never fought battles you knew you couldn’t win. You always looked out for yourself.”

Cynthia allowed a small smile at that, and replied, “You’re right as usual Lucard, I don’t fight battles I know I don’t have an unfair advantage and a certainty to win. So me being here must tell you something.”

Lucard allowed himself a small smile back. Jonathan spoke again, an angry tone layering his voice, “Why are you doing this Lucard? You can’t honestly blame us for leaving. The town was dead; we had to spend all night walking just to get a meal. You were in a coma; we didn’t know when you were going to wake up”

“You’re right I don’t blame you for leaving Jonathan. You must have been bullied into siding with them and being the coward you are, you left with them. Cynthia, I don’t blame you either. It was obviously a bad investment of your time to stay with me. But”
Lucard paused for a moment before continuing “I was put into a coma for YOU” Lucard emphasized that last word, anger evident in his tone “I saved you from that slayer, I risked my life to keep him away, and YOU DIDN’T THINK IT WAS WORTH STAYING WITH ME? YOU LEFT ME TO DIE IN THAT GODFORSAKEN CHURCH AND CONTINUED ON WITH YOUR LIVES AS IF I DIDN’T EXIST”







Lucard, all pretense of civility abandoned, lunged at Jonathan with that same unnatural speed. Jonathan tried jumping back to avoid the cane’s swing, but was too slow and the cane hit the side of his head with a sickening thud, causing him to turn wildly and fall to the floor. While Lucard was still swinging his cane, Cynthia ran forward and gave him a brutal kick in the chest. Lucard stumbled backwards and she continued her assault, giving him several cross cuts to the face before trying to finish with a punch to the stomach. Lucard grabbed her wrist before it connected and twisted it violently, making several bones snap. Still holding her wrist, he swung his cane up and brought it down on her head, causing her to collapse. He kicked her to the side before turning in just enough time to see Jonathan run forward and tackle him to the ground. Jonathan began brutally pounding his fists into Lucard’s face. Lucard lay there stunned for a few moments, and then snarled as he rolled himself and Jonathan over, so that he was now the one on top and pounding his cane into Jonathan’s face. Cynthia ran forward, grabbed Lucard’s suit, and threw him off Jonathan, sending him flying into the wall. Lucard crashed through a vase and hit the wall. Snarling, he stood back up and said, “You always were one of the best fighters Cynthia.”

He ran forward again and struck her violently with his cane, sending her flying back. Jonathan tried lunging at Lucard, but he turned and struck him with his cane as well, making him collapse on the floor again. “You put up a good fight, but you didn’t have a chance, I’m surprised you didn’t see that,”

Lucard said as he turned towards Jonathan, who tried getting up but was forced back down by Lucard’s foot. Lifting his cane up, Lucard prepared to shove it through Jonathan’s heart. “Goodbye Jonathan,” Lucard said simply before he brought his cane down. Jonathan gasped in pain and looked at Lucard, choking as he coughed up blood, before his eyes rolled back and the life left them. Lucard twisted his cane savagely, making sure that Jonathan was dead, before taking it out. Cynthia looked up in time to see him kill Jonathan.

“No,” She whispered, eyes hardening as a cold anger fell over her. She stood back up, pushed the hair out of her eyes, and said, “You bastard.”

Markus saw all of this from his hole in the wall, Katilena watching beside him. He watched as that old man brutally murdered his friend, mentor, and savior. And instead of feeling anger, he felt terrified. If this man murdered the greatest person he had ever known, what chance did they have of getting away? Katilena turned towards him and said, “Jesus, this grandpa is something else.”

With that, she stood up and took a switchblade out of her shoe and flicked it open, testing the edge. Markus looked up and asked, “What are you doing?”

She focused on her blade as she said, “This fucking puta just killed your master, I’m not going to let him kill mine,”

With that, she opened the door and started running down the stairs. She turned the corner and found Lucard holding Cynthia up by her neck, chocking her as he looked at her scornfully, and with his back to the stairs. Lucard was bleeding slightly from a cut on his cheek, but didn’t look injured otherwise.

“Do you have any last words Cynthia?” He asked scornfully, not noticing Katilena sprint down the stairs with the switchblade in her hand.

“Yea, look out,” Cynthia replied. Lucard turned his head in just enough time to see Katilena brutally tackle him with her shoulder, making him drop Cynthia and fall to the floor. Katilena didn’t waste any time, she straddled Lucard’s upper chest and pinning his arms to the floor with her knees. She raised her blade in the air and tried to stab Lucard’s neck, but he grabbed her hand just before it reached his neck.

Lucard, despite everything, grinned and said, “So Cynthia, you made a new sister to our fold. And she’s a feisty one as well, I like that.”

Katilena tried to force the blade into Lucard’s throat, but was encountering an iron grip despite the awkward position. She tried using both arms to push the blade down, but couldn’t budge his grip. Lucard brought his other arm up and with a deft twist of his wrists, plunged the switchblade into Katilena’s stomach instead. Katilena looked down in astonishment; she had never lost a fight before. Cynthia could only stare at the scene unfolding before her. Lucard calmly rolled Katilena over off of him, grabbed the blade, took it out and brought it back down, impaling her heart with her own blade. Cynthia couldn’t do anything but watch. Lucard stood up, brushed himself off, and turned back towards her.
“She surprised me, I’ll give you that. But she should have known she never had a chance.”

Cynthia realized she only had one option now. “Lucard, I’m begging you, stop this. You’ve proved your point; I realized when I first saw you that I should have stayed. You’ve killed one of my oldest friends and the first fledgling I’ve taken on since that slayer came to town so many years ago. Please, stop this.”

Lucard sighed and shook his head “Cynthia, don’t sink so low. You have so much more dignity then that. You’re right, I will end this, but I’d rather end this with you having your honor.”

Cynthia gave a slight sob before grimacing as she knew what would happen. “Fine then, if you want this to end like that, then I wouldn’t have it any other way”





She snarled and started running, not towards him, but towards his cane. Lucard didn’t realize what was going on until she snatched it up and held it like a fencing sword, warily facing him. Lucard chuckled slightly before lunging towards her, his fist pulled back in preparation to hit her. Cynthia swung it crosswise, slamming it into Lucard’s side. Lucard stopped, the blow stunning him. Cynthia continued her assault, shoving the cane into Lucard’s face and slamming it into the side of his head. He stumbled slightly from the blows, then turned and swung his fist wildly. It connected with the cane, sending it flying out of her hands as she tried to block. He lunged and tackled her to the ground, preparing to tear her head from her body. Cynthia however, managed to tuck her knees up to her chest when he tackled her, and with a slight grin, kicked outward and sent Lucard flying off her and onto the stairs. He landed with a grunt of pain, and then snarled as he got up and ran towards her. Cynthia waited until he was close enough, then ducked and tried to tackle him at the waist. His forward momentum stopped him from being tackled, and he brought his knee upward into her face. She was sent upward from the blow, her head reeling backwards from the pain. Lucard didn’t stop, he gave her a cross cut to the face, grabbed her shoulders, and threw her into the wall. Cynthia slammed brutally into the wall, crumpling as she fell to the floor. Lucard looked at her grimly; it was a shame to end her life. Sighing sadly, he picked up his cane and walked over to her body. Cynthia moaned in pain and turned on her side. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry Cynthia.” Lucard said before shoving his cane into her heart.





Markus watched all of this from the hole in the window and when he saw Cynthia fall, he knew it was over. He wasn’t going to escape unnoticed; the man was simply too much. He fell back on the floor and stared down, not wanting to do what he knew he had to. He let a sob out, before standing up and walking out of the room. He entered the stairwell and walked down, stopping about halfway down. He tried not to look at the bodies of those that had tried to protect him. After a moment, Lucard noticed him.

With a mildly curious look on his face, Lucard asked "And who might you be?"

"My name is Markus, and you just killed everyone I know."

"Hmm. So now I suppose you want revenge?"

"Well, not really. I know I can't kill you, not if Jonathan couldn't."

"Jonathan never stood a chance and he should have known that. However, your presence here gives me a thought. You need a teacher, I can smell your youth on you. And it just so happens I need a coven. I can't get by on just my good looks these days"

Markus was taken aback, this was not what he expected to happen. "Are you saying..." Lucard gave a small, comforting smile and said "Come with me, I have a lot to teach after all"

Markus thought for a moment, then walked down to Lucard. Lucard nodded and began making his way around the bodies and out the door, as if he were on a stroll in the park. Markus followed, stopping only to pick up the switchblade from Katilena's corpse.