Descendant of Nephilim part 11.

The Beginning


It’s a funny thing being trapped inside your own mind. It can be described fractionally like knowing you’ve forgotten something and unable to remember just what it is, maybe your keys or your purse or that task you had to desperately do. But when the thing you’ve forgotten is your entire life and someone else is behind the steering wheel. Well, it’s almost like laying at the bottom of a pool looking up at the sunshine sparkling through. You know there’s life out there but you just can’t seem to move from the pool floor.

Abigail had just surface from her pool of ignorance and her past life glittered around her mind. The years growing up on the family farm, she didn’t remember her first school but she did her college, her friend boyfriend Freddie. After college she spent a while wandering the wilderness, documenting all the life around her. She remembered a pack of wolves that had stalked her for days and when they had finally pounced how the Regency had came swooping in to save her. That was the first time she had heard of supernaturals, she had been recruited and sent to London under the tutelage of Trisha Ash a microbiologist and animal

That was the first time she had heard of supernaturals, she had been recruited and sent to London under the tutelage of Trisha Ash a microbiologist and animal behaviorist. She remembers meeting a young fearless army captain and how he had swept her off her feet. Terrance had been her entire life ever since that encounter.

The room she was in was vaguely familiar as if she remembered it in a dream although the various Items of her life scattered around the furniture confused her even more. The perfume bottle on the nightstand was defiantly the one Terrence had brought her on vacation to Venice, and her favourite pearls laid in the green velvet case that had been her mother’s.

She desperately tried to remember why she was here but couldn’t something else was nudging at her like an insatiable dog.

The metallic taste of blood lingered on her tongue from a pervious feed and the sudden realised dawned on her when a young lady entered the room. Vanessa shoulders sagged as she saw Abigail eyes were alight with curiosity.

“Good evening Abigail. Let not get on the wrong foot this time, shall we. Yes your a vampire and yes your under Tyr’s domain. But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

“Where is Terence?”

Abigail shied away from the younger lady and pushed up against the bed she gripped the folds of the bed spread as Vanessa drew closer.

“Same question every time. Ah love.”

Vanessa clasped her hands to her heart and pouted. A far off look danced in her eyes at a memory of her own teenage years over a decade ago. Abigail’s had grasped something hard and long as Vanessa’s hands dropped from her mockery.

“They always end up betraying you. Look at yourself.”

The old lady fumbled around on the bed not daring to take off the approaching vampire.

“You must have realised now that your one of us, and who do you think thought the idea of you becoming a vampire was a good one. He Hoped desperately that the disease would burn out and you would return to him whole.”

She sneered as she approached the frightened old lady. Abigail gripped the object hard and whipped it round. The bone hairbrush looked a white as her trembling hands

Vanessa laughter and reached for Abigail’s shaking hand.

“Come now auntie, the Jarl wants to see you, apparently you’ve been a very bad lady.”

The young girl made a grab for Abigail’s hand, she underestimated the older lady’s strength as normally the dementia caused her to relive her human side.

Now Vanessa found a stern and strong hand gripping hers. She tried to pull back but Abigail pulled her close and locked her arm around her neck.

“I’ve hated you the moment I saw you, and don’t think I didn’t realise what I’ve become. You silly girl.”

She twirled the hairbrush around and grasped it by the head. Vanessa had never noticed how sharp the irony bone hand was and now it was too late. The handle buried deep into her chest and her eyes flickered, small tongue of smoke curled around her waist and shoulders as she slowly crumpled to the floor. A minute later and she was nothing but ash.

Abigail kicked at the dust and a set of keys clinked. She picked them up and went to the window and opened it wide. The area outside her room was clear so she climbed to the seal and glanced back once.

She really had hated that place and hope to never come back. She jumped the three stories to the floor and landed clumsy, she didn’t feel any pain no anymore, but she knew that something had broken. Although she wasn’t going to let that stop her as she hobbled of into the night. 10 minutes later she was walking perfectly as she hailed a taxi and stepped inside.

The darkened patch of trees shelter the horde of werewolves for the searching lights of the Regency. The brick walls that surrounded the sanctum were high but not high enough to stop a supernatural from jumping clean over. Even the protective ward that a warlock had placed over the premise would be enough to stop Marcus and Cassandra from entering the grounds.


Next Chapter >>>

One thought on “Descendant of Nephilim part 11.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s