Crimson Moon: Shadows Of The Past

The night has descended and with the arms of heavy darkness, gradually, it enveloped the whole world. Although it's a summer night, tonight the night air seemed to be unusually gloomy and cold. Somewhere in the middle of the spine-chilling darkness, the heavy scent of blood curdled in the air.

The surroundings were dyed in red. Old and new puddles of blood were forming everywhere. Looking at it One could undoubtedly imagine what had transpired not long ago. Corpses were scattered everywhere. Bloodied limbs and stumps were littered across the areas, and In the midst of this nightmare someone seemed to still be breathing, although faintly.

Through his way of breathing it could be said that he didn't not have much time left, his body riddled with wounds and the blood seeping into his clothes, drenching the fabric pooled beneath him, dripping off of his body in slow increments could say he did not have much time left to live. His whole body was riddled with wounds; blood seeped into his clothes forming a puddle beneath him as it dripped off of him, in slow increments. There didn't seem to be any place on his body that was not wounded.

He is starting to lose his consciousness slowly. He is struggling very hard not to lose it. It seems like he doesn't wish to die yet. He is still holding onto his last breath desperately.

Suddenly, he hears some rustling noises coming in his direction. He immediately turns alert. Although his face is pale due to the excessive loss of blood, his eyes are fierce. From the intent of killing that is oozing out of his face, it seems as if he has been anticipating their arrival for a long time.

The rustling of the bushes and leaves behind him, alerted him to the presence of a predator stalking his nerves, he struggled to turn, to look up, to move, the realization that he was too weak, gnawed against his eyes, the desperation he felt caused his eyes to glow with remnants of his power as he glared fiercely and bid his time.

He didn't need to wait long, as several people surrounded him quickly; they fanned out in each cardinal direction,they all paused and turned as a man with a glittering green eyes and a scar from left eye to his chin, gnarly in shape and red, seemingly pulsating, strolled into the clearing.

He doesn't have to wait long. They reach him quickly and he is soon surrounded from all sides. They watch him with scorn-filled eyes for some time. After some time has passed, a man with a scar on his face comes forward and stands before him.

The man was tall, a burly muscular frame and grin crossed his gnarly features that seemed to be the very definition of evil as he looked down at him. He is a man with a burly body and a tall stature His eyes look cunning and greedy and the scar on his face only adds to the evilness in him.

The contempt oozing out of the man as he looked down at him, leaked free and he hummed with a pleasantly amused air about him, carefully crouching he scratched the sensitive part of his skin, the gesture caused hives to break out across his neck and travel down at the eerie feeling as the man clicked his tongue amused.

The man looks at him with contempt as if he is looking at someone as inferior as an ant. He unhurriedly crouches in front of the man on the ground and with a tone mixed with haughtiness and some authority, he says "Well, well, well. Look who's here?" he laughed as he snarked mockingly. A haughty tone carried as he continued, "Marcus Markie Muckerson", he taunted as he looked down at him,"I must say that you are really arrogant to think that you could avenge your pack and go against all of us alone, but I do applaud your courage", he laughed again. "For a definition of the word", he added, entertained.

He gradually rose to his feet and looked down at Mark before continuing, "Now look at what this petty arrogance has brought you, all the people you cared for have died, one after the other. Your little lover is dead because of you and now you are also dying. Do you think everything is worth it? Looking at your bravery, I always thought that you would be a good addition to our pack. You know...", he sighed heavily, "I hate to lose talents like you... If only you had behaved well, I would have taken you in, irrespective of your background. You are a true disappointment", he sighed again.

It would have seemed truly moving if it weren't for the leering grin taking up half his face and the hatred in his eyes; Listening to his words filled with false magnanimity anyone would mistake him for a kind elder. But Mark knew of his cruelty, this man wouldn't even blink an eye when killing someone.

Mark still remembered how cruelly he'd killed his entire pack within a single night. He remembered the savage look on this man's face as slaughtered his family with his bare hands, he never hesitated when it came to killing an innocent, be they children or mere babies. The man was a monster.

Ignoring the tragedy his family had been wrought by this man's hand, it hurt to recall the truth, his love and the person he cared for most in the world lay dead, Blake. He couldn't even see where Blake was, what were these monsters doing to his beloved as they cackled manically behind and around him, these cruel monsters, despite knowing that Blake was only human, they'd brutally killed him.

Tears pooled, as he heard his lover's name coming from this monster's mouth, hatred crawled through his mind with energy borne from it and the will of his pain, he struggled to his feet and swaying, faced the cruel visage of a man who thought himself god-like, he barely stood when a strong kick from the man hit him straight in his sternum and he fell to his knees, his attack hardly landing, and blood vomiting he coughed weakly.

On the other hand, after releasing the last bit of his strength, Mark's body falls onto the ground once again and he soon feels his consciousness slowly leaving his body. He knows that his time has come. At this moment a figure suddenly comes into his mind and a tear slips out from the corner of his eyes. He closes his eyes little by little and enters into darkness completely.

The pain that ricocheted through him at the kick, caused what little energy he had to deplete itself immediately as the recoil of that useless attempt to double in on him, and Mark collapsed helplessly, he whined helplessly as the darkness crept in, his vision blurred and the braying cackling laughter followed him as tears slipped out, "Bla-ke", he barely whispered giving into the darkness that beckoned him home.

He wasn't ready to die just yet, he didn't complete his revenge, but he had no strength left, no resistance to put up any longer. He was tired and he lost everything now, it's better to die than to live knowing he failed.

Mark didn't want to die, he hadn't succeeded in getting his revenge, the failure of the one thing that had kept him alive all these years and the love of man he'd met, swept into him, as his consciousness began to fade, the weariness kicked in and his strength left him as the overwhelming feeling of his futile endeavor wrapped around him like a blanket lulling him into the arms of death.

He'd failed.

**********

Below the steep end of an ocean cliff,Violent waves crashed onto the rocks of a steep cliff, the wind rushed around wildly, whirling through the thicket of trees, bushes and grass. The darkened sky bursting with flashes of lightning, rumbling with deafening growls of thunder, a storm brewed, and on this turbulent night, a man rushed down a barely lit path. The path led to a large manor situated at the very edge of the cliff, surrounded by more grassy knolls and both isolated and all encompassing of the grasslands.

The man held a container, gripping it tight enough his very veins stood out as lightning lit up his way, bringing his features into view. He was tall, burly but disfigured given the scar that ran from his left eye to his chin, marring half of his face in red gnarled skin, it sparked a vicious sense of doom, if anyone were to look at him at a distance, they'd be struck in terror.

The man ignored everything around him as he ran down the pathway and crossed a cobbled pathway leading him to a dark wooden door with an ornate gold door-knocker, removing a key from his clothes he unlocked the door and made his way into the house.

Blinking at the sudden brightness as the lights lit up the foyer of where he stood, he shook his head and made his way down a corridor only to reach the bottom step of the spiral staircase leading to the second floor of the large manor. Hurriedly climbing the stairs, taking them two at a time as he bounded up the stairs and reached a darkened hallway, he briskly walked down the way passing several rooms as he headed to his destination.

The heels of his boot provided the staccato rhythm of sound that reverberated from the wooden floorboards; the only sound accompanying him as he reached the last room.

Swallowing he stopped and paid attention to his appearance, breathing in once, twice and then a third time as his heart stopped racing in his sternum, he knocked on the door, and waited even as impatience swirled in his gut.

A beat later a hoarse voice commanded his attention; "Enter!"

The man shivered and nodded once mostly to himself, he opened the door and walked into a dark office barely lit with a small desk-lamp, the occupant of the room, sat on a high-backed chair, the back of his head the only thing visible, as The scarred-man walked into the room.

Puffs of smoke, the only sign of movement filled the room and a cup of tea lay forgotten on the desk, cooling.

"And Alric, what news do you bring?" the man asked, voice dry.

Alric nodded, "He's dead, I, we made sure he died before activating his pack's ability", he promised as he raised the container, "I brought what you asked for", he said and placed the container on the man's desk.

The man laughed raucously, "Finally! Finally", he cheered happily and turned the chair.

Alric swallowed as the only thing visible was the evil grin as the man cackled with glee.

"Alric, rejoice for you shall witness true power", he laughed, "I, Carlton Lewis, have been waiting for this moment for two decades", he laughed as he caressed the container and opened it.

The scent of blood flooded the room, and Alric took a wary step back as the man licked his lips, his arrogance from earlier as he'd watched Mark die vanished as the man, Carlton, picked up the heart, and licked his lips.

'Yeuck', he internally cursed, Alric wasn't a kind person but even as cruel as he was he'd never think to eat a heart.

Carlton, smiled happily and bit into the heart, his earlier elegance disappeared as he devoured the heart, the blood spurting out dribbled down his chin and splattered across his desk, even sliding down in droplets from the lamp looking eerily black by the light of the glow, it darkened the tea and destroyed forgotten documents.

Carlton ignored it all as he licked his lips and continued tearing into the heart, his teeth sinking into the organ as he slurped the remnants of blood and tissue into his mouth.

As the heart disappeared into Carlton's mouth the man sighed happily, "Finally", he said.

Alric nodded for a lack of anything else to do, and waited as the power of the heart would soon activate, he guessed.

Carlton waited, eyes slipping shut, only to snap open, and he choked, clawing at his throat he sent a desperate look at a confused Alric, and hissed.

"What?" Alric asked, as he watched the man curl into himself, his visage crumpling in pain before he threw his head back, his eyes began to bleed, as his pupils shrunk and he screamed.

Alric stumbled back, fear and wariness kicking in as Carlton stood up, the heat in the room escalated and Alric dove for the door, he hardly managed to open it before the screeching scream of the man behind him howled out and he turned and ducked covering himself as the man burst into pieces. Alric fell backwards as he watched the entire room, covered in body parts, blood and tissue, he quivered in fear and scrambled back as one eye rolled off of the surface of the room and made its way to the threshold of the door, staring up at him amidst the river of blood and he cursed; "What in the name of Hell?!"