The orb has spoken. A hero must rise, and unite all the creatures of Ammertia to face a greater, ever growing threat to the south.
However, tensions are growing to an all time high between the races. The elves have separated themselves from society...
"Anthony," a whisper called out. It pierces through the sorrow, through the pain. Illuminating everything around it, like a light at the end of the tunnel. A voice in the dark, gloomy sea that was his existence.
Anthony twisted and turned, his insides bubbling and foaming with the transformation. He was on the floor, the cool cobblestone the last of his worried as he lay there. Pain consuming him.
"Anthony," again it called, beconning to him. Encouraging him, spurring him on. But to what? What did the voice want from him?
More pain. He groaned in anguish, the noise barely escaping his lips. Time had blurred for him, memories starting to warp and shape into something new, something different. Had he been like this for a month? A year? Or maybe it had only been one day?
He felt cold. The kind of cold where your body automatically contracts every muscle inside of you, forcing you into a painful ball of misery and despair. It chilled to the bone, every movement pure agony as bones creaked and cracked.
Huddled in the corner, shivering, he felt as if he would never know warmth again. That he would be cold forever, that cold was all he knew.
But then he felt hot. A searing heat that radiated from inside. He collapsed to the floor, trying his best to cool off like a dog on a hot day. But the intense heat only got worse, growing and growing in degrees. Sweat was beginning to pool around him, with more flowing from his pores.
His mouth felt dry. Lips cracked and chaps, with deep rivets running over his once plump lips. Anthony tried to lick his lips, trying to get some moisture to them. However, he soon found that his tongue was as dry as sandpaper, scraping over the already busted lips.
He felt like his insides were boiling, a fever that never ceased. Anthony barely had the strength to turn over to retch. He felt his stomach contracting, trying it's best to rid the body of the toxin within.
But it would never be able to get it all out.
Vampire blood now coursed in his veins, the change was occuring. His rebirth was imminent. Fight as he might, there was nothing he could do.
He vomited some more.
Click.
Clack.
Click.
Clack.
Someone was coming down the stairs, the sounds of their footsteps echoed against the cold walls of Castle Doom. In his pained state, Anthony liked the echo. It was like a ring of clarity, a short sharp jolt of the senses to reawaken him and provide a brief moment of sanity before the darkness swallowed him up once more.
"Anthony," the voice said, louder this time. As he squinted his eyes shut tight, so tight he saw stars, a familiar face materialised before him.
Her eyes were soft and almond shaped, with a deep brown colour to them. Her hair cascaded around her face, blowing gently in the breeze as he gazed at her lovingly. She even had that green dress on, the one he had bought her for her birthday that year.
"M-mum?" He managed to stammer out. The woman smiled at him, his mother. She went to speak, to open her mouth, but was soon cut off by a high pitch laughing. Snapping back to reality, he opened his eyes. His eyes were level with the floor, and the first thing he saw were the bars of his cage, and the heels of his captor.
"Sorry to disappoint," the shrill voice cooed. Every word sliced through Anthony's being, like knives cutting through flesh. He winced in pain, the sound reverberating in his ear drums.
Anthony told himself not to do it, but he allowed his eyes to trace up the woman's slender legs, seeing where the hem of her ice blue dress danced across her shins, following up to her slim, slender waist. And finally, to rest on her cold, dead blue eyes.
Ava.
"She's dead, remember?" She said with a smug look on her face. Anthony coughed loudly as the memories came flooding back to him. The mansion. The vampires. Stairs. Red, red everywhere. Sylvia. Where's Sylvia?
Ava must have seen his panicked expression, as she gently reached down to grasp his face in her hands. She lifted him up towards her, her fingers making indents in his skin. With her other hand, she gently wiped away the vomit from the corner of his lips.
"Anthony... Anthony..." She mused, cocking her head to the side in thought. Anthony tried to place his hands down on the ground, tried to at least balance himself with his knees. But his body was failing him, his bones felt brittle, his muscles weak. He wasn't himself, and deep down he knew he never would be himself again.
"No, that simply won't do," Ava continued to muse, before releasing Anthony. He fell to the ground, hitting the solid floor with a crack. Struggling to lift himself up, Anthony instead rolled over with a groan.
"I think I'll just call you Ant instead, like the tiny little insect you are," Ava guaffed at herself, leaving the now dubbed Ant to grovel in his own filth, and exist only in pain.
***
"Tony, sir, she's nowhere to be found," the red eyes vampire before him reported with a salute. Tony chuckled to himself briefly. He had taught the vampires many mannerisms of hunters, as a way of feeling at home. It hadn't worked, of course, however was mildly amusing to see them so well behaved.
"At ease," he said, mustering up as much professionalism he could before letting out a snigger. The red eye nodded, before returning to the search.
He didn't bother remembering their names, didn't see it worth his time, worth his valuable memory space. Instead, they were simply all his inferiors. Even Tony had been surprised how easily the horde had flocked to him once he had defeated the blue eyed trio of Ava, Berthold, and Cecilia.
They value strength, what more is there to say?
Gazing around at the entrance of the Hunter Sigil, Tony admired his work. He had managed to take it down, all in an afternoon. Finding Ava, although proving difficult, could wait for another day. He had suffered for so long because of her, being at her wim day and night.
"What's one more day," he grinned to himself, gazing out over the sea. It was calming, the gentle sound of the ocean rocking back and forth. How the sound bounced off of the cliff face nearby, creating its own little echo.
Looking up at the moon, Tony smiled to himself. Not long to go now, before his plan would come to fruition. All those years of suffering, he would finally exact his revenge. A plan ten years in planning, he had already dealt of James and the Hunter Sigil, that was part one. Part two, well you'll have to wait and see.
Ava could wait, victory cannot.
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And there you have it, end of Part 1! I hope you all enjoyed, I will be releasing part 2 after the wattys shortlist has been announced. As I said, I don't have my expectations very high but it's all just for a bit of fun hey?
Anyway any and all feedback is greatly appreciated, I always aim to grow and develop as a writer.
