Let It Burn AKA: The Hound Slips His Leash
It has been a long time coming. I know that now. So far we have all fallen... so far they have fallen. They have assumed for so long that I would remain in the shadows, their killer. But there have been rules. Requirements. None were to impede my mission. None were to stand against me, or if they were, they would be cut down. But how many have told me no in recent nights? How many have spoken the words they would not say if they did not see an intangible but all-too-real collar around my neck? Perhaps the Angel was right. She told me he was special. Maybe insight is his.
The rooftops were a blur to the man-monster known as Goll. He ran naked save for a tight black leather belt which held his knife, his feet and hands transformed in to villainous claws of unholy length. He scrambled as one might imagine an ape would move, but with blinding speed. He feet and fists carried him the length of the concrete roof and then he leaped, moving from one building to the next. Despite his movement the wind did not seem to take notice, no breeze leaving behind his wake. It was as if the entire world would prefer to ignore his presence and continue on without him.
So many times the Three told me that escape could be mine. They said that the Impaler did not understand the bargain, did not understand what he had haggled for. They did not understand our bond. Did not know how such a savage and unrefined creature could call the Dragon his Master. But Dracula has always understood - transcendence does not always mean enlightenment. I have transcended - I am more pure than any. I am the pure Beast - the pure monster that so many would strive to become.
Goll slowed at the edge of one building and looked down over the side in to the glow of a trashcan fire. Several vagrants were warming their hands by the fire and speaking of their misery in the cold night. With moves as silent as a stalking cat, Goll slipped out over the edge and dropped to the concrete on all fours. He neared the blaze with the practiced movements learned from hunting creatures with senses beyond those of mortal men. How many of the Werewolves had fallen to his tooth and claw? So many. So long ago...
I offered him loyalty beyond question. I swore that never would I stray, and more... I would offer my childer to the night. My childer eternal would be his, and not only his... they would serve those who studied under his wing. And never did any save he understand. The Moroi have sought a new future as long as any in the Order... but we have succeeded. I have found our path. I understand what we can become... perhaps easiest for my Children, but any of us could achieve it! Few have the courage... but it is quite possible.
Goll's left hand slipped down to his belt where he drew the curved blade and tucked it between two fingers. With a smooth motion he flung the blade forward and it cleanly sliced one man from ear to ear and continued on in to the wall behind. The move was so fast it took his compatriots a moment to understand what had happened... and when they did it was too late. Goll snapped out his right hand and ripped in to the neck of one, planting his right foot firmly in to the concrete and digging it with the unnatural talons of his feet. He spun his left foot about and caught the second man in the temple with his heel, spinning and hurling the other by the neck in to a nearby wall. A complicated move, but it allowed for no noise. A boy remained sleeping not ten feet away - never knowing that his father and two surrogate uncles had been murdered while he dozed.
We have suffered the pitying glances and the patronizing words with strong backs and iron resolve. We have defended the scholars while they sought a different knowledge. But what have we gained? Our own course has gone well, our hunt has not been stopped. But this betrayal... has the betrayal of one Dragon Slayer truly sent us away from our path? They trust him... and the law of the Dragons now allows him to break a precept older than his blood. Very well, if their laws back his claim... then their laws will burn.
Goll looked down to the other side of his belt where a few small cases sat. He opened one and pulled out a small black cellular phone. Opening it he dialed a few numbers, those that would reach any GrandMaster who cared to listen. "Betrayal is costly. Now the world burns. Contact can be made in the ancient way." Goll did not bother to close the phone but instead tossed it in to the burning fire within the trash can.
"Let it burn, My Hound. Let them see. Teach the honor of the blade to those who have forgotten."
I will let it burn... and in my place a new Beast will rise. - Unknown Author, words found carved beneath stacked bodies in Madrid, Venice, London, Paris, Dublin, Berlin and Moscow during the period commonly reffered to as the Spider Killings.
The rooftops were a blur to the man-monster known as Goll. He ran naked save for a tight black leather belt which held his knife, his feet and hands transformed in to villainous claws of unholy length. He scrambled as one might imagine an ape would move, but with blinding speed. He feet and fists carried him the length of the concrete roof and then he leaped, moving from one building to the next. Despite his movement the wind did not seem to take notice, no breeze leaving behind his wake. It was as if the entire world would prefer to ignore his presence and continue on without him.
So many times the Three told me that escape could be mine. They said that the Impaler did not understand the bargain, did not understand what he had haggled for. They did not understand our bond. Did not know how such a savage and unrefined creature could call the Dragon his Master. But Dracula has always understood - transcendence does not always mean enlightenment. I have transcended - I am more pure than any. I am the pure Beast - the pure monster that so many would strive to become.
Goll slowed at the edge of one building and looked down over the side in to the glow of a trashcan fire. Several vagrants were warming their hands by the fire and speaking of their misery in the cold night. With moves as silent as a stalking cat, Goll slipped out over the edge and dropped to the concrete on all fours. He neared the blaze with the practiced movements learned from hunting creatures with senses beyond those of mortal men. How many of the Werewolves had fallen to his tooth and claw? So many. So long ago...
I offered him loyalty beyond question. I swore that never would I stray, and more... I would offer my childer to the night. My childer eternal would be his, and not only his... they would serve those who studied under his wing. And never did any save he understand. The Moroi have sought a new future as long as any in the Order... but we have succeeded. I have found our path. I understand what we can become... perhaps easiest for my Children, but any of us could achieve it! Few have the courage... but it is quite possible.
Goll's left hand slipped down to his belt where he drew the curved blade and tucked it between two fingers. With a smooth motion he flung the blade forward and it cleanly sliced one man from ear to ear and continued on in to the wall behind. The move was so fast it took his compatriots a moment to understand what had happened... and when they did it was too late. Goll snapped out his right hand and ripped in to the neck of one, planting his right foot firmly in to the concrete and digging it with the unnatural talons of his feet. He spun his left foot about and caught the second man in the temple with his heel, spinning and hurling the other by the neck in to a nearby wall. A complicated move, but it allowed for no noise. A boy remained sleeping not ten feet away - never knowing that his father and two surrogate uncles had been murdered while he dozed.
We have suffered the pitying glances and the patronizing words with strong backs and iron resolve. We have defended the scholars while they sought a different knowledge. But what have we gained? Our own course has gone well, our hunt has not been stopped. But this betrayal... has the betrayal of one Dragon Slayer truly sent us away from our path? They trust him... and the law of the Dragons now allows him to break a precept older than his blood. Very well, if their laws back his claim... then their laws will burn.
Goll looked down to the other side of his belt where a few small cases sat. He opened one and pulled out a small black cellular phone. Opening it he dialed a few numbers, those that would reach any GrandMaster who cared to listen. "Betrayal is costly. Now the world burns. Contact can be made in the ancient way." Goll did not bother to close the phone but instead tossed it in to the burning fire within the trash can.
"Let it burn, My Hound. Let them see. Teach the honor of the blade to those who have forgotten."
I will let it burn... and in my place a new Beast will rise. - Unknown Author, words found carved beneath stacked bodies in Madrid, Venice, London, Paris, Dublin, Berlin and Moscow during the period commonly reffered to as the Spider Killings.