Consort

Prologue: The Stranger

[Prologue]

Daniel Khaos walked silently down the dusty road, praying that no one would look his way. His clothes were bloodied and mud-stained, and his eyes were red-ringed, his face tear-stained. His face itself was a mess of dried blood, sweat, tears, dirt and bruises. He could never forgive himself for what happened. Never again would he be able to face himself after such a monstrous act. His brother, his own brother, had just been killed in a stupid, petty fight with only-God-knows how many idiotic teenagers, and he had just stood by and watched it happen, unable to jump in and save his life as they kicked, punched, stabbed, tortured...

He would never again be able to forget about what happened; he would be haunted for the rest of his days because of what happened.

And his death was all. His. Fault.

Sam...I'm so sorry...I've failed you...

He trudged on down the road, watching as cars passed, as people hurried past him with their early Christmas shopping, as music blared from the open windows of high-rise flats and cars. No one stopped to look; no one stopped to help. People bustled past, their shoulders perhaps brushing off of his own and making him wince just at the mere contact. In Damnatalia, no one really bothered to look. People were always too caught up in their own lives to have the time to be observant.

Daniel turned to take a shortcut through a backstreet, not thinking twice about the kind of people that hung around in dark alleys, and hugged himself as he walked on, biting back bitter, childish tears that no sixteen-year-old should allow to escape. He couldn't exactly say it wasn't worth it - that would be unfair  - but instead he had to say that he was stronger than that. And besides, his brother had hated it when he cried.

Without noticing where he was going, he walked right into someone, and gulped as he met the regulation blood-red eyes of a particularly shifty-looking vampire. In Damnatalia, vampires were everywhere, blending in perfectly with the swarming hordes of eccentric aristocrats, decrepit beggars, and only-God-knew what else. He only knew about the vampires because his brother had been one; maybe that was why he had be k...killed?

"Oh...s-sorry..." He tried to step around him, but the stranger placed his hands on the boy's shoulders, grinning sadistically down at him.

"You'll do. Come on." He grabbed Daniel and pulled him down the street, and the young boy just frowned and was tugged along. Anything, he supposed, was better than going home to a now completely empty house; his parents had been killed only weeks before, and now the death of his brother had taught him that there was nothing else worth sticking around for.

"Wh-where are we going?" Daniel asked, grief already clouding his mind and shrouding common sense. The vampire just kept pulling him down the street, until they reached a dead end. The vampire suddenly turned and slammed Daniel's back into a wall, eyes glaring with mischief as he yanked at the boy's shirt, fangs lengthening as he proceeded to bite into Daniel's flesh. The boy watched in utter horror for a second as the creature's fangs sunk into the flesh of his neck, and cried out in agony. After a few seconds the vampire extracted his fangs, and Daniel fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, warily opening his eyes just a crack to see the man lying in a soiled, bloodied heap on the ground, a stake sticking out of his chest. Daniel instantly felt bile rising in his throat, and swallowed it back down quickly, before looking around him to see who his saviour was. No one was there; he frowned, and then a dark figure dropped quickly to the ground in front of him. Daniel instinctively winced, and his eyes met the crossbow in their hands, the sword sitting snugly in the scabbard on their belt. The stranger looked kindly, around seventeen or eighteen, his black hair perfectly shaped over and around his face. His white shirt was slightly crumpled, his black tie loose and tied messily. His black jeans were slightly muddied - or at least Daniel hoped that was mud - and his combat boots were covered in mud. The tortured boy sighed wearily, sounding defeated. He looked like the kind of guy that would sooner kill him than help him, kindly or not.

"Are you alright? You look kind of...hurt." His piercing blue eyes narrowed, framed with dark lashes and running eyeliner. He took a step towards Daniel and crouched down next to the boy, studying him closely - or rather, his neck, and the two bleeding fang-marks in his ivory flesh. Daniel sat up silently, studying the stranger as closely as he was studying him. "How did you end up in such a state?" He asked Daniel, before digging around in his pocket for something. He took out a small packet of tissues, and crouched down next to Daniel, putting his crossbow on the ground next to him and pressing a few tissues against the holes in the boy's neck. His eyes were cold, and his jaw was clenched. Daniel winced slightly, and the stranger smiled, putting a hand under Daniel's chin to tilt his head up. He studied the slices on Daniel's face and throat, and then his suddenly-worried blue eyes met the adolescent's gaze. "It looks like someone tried to slit your throat. Who did this to you?"

Daniel gulped, not wanting to speak for fear that the lack of control he had over his emotions would just come tumbling down and let everything come spilling out.

The stranger nudged him slightly. "Come on, you can tell me. Or do you all of a sudden trust strangers a lot less now?" He smirked, and Daniel winced slightly in response to his harsh words. Still, he was right.

Daniel flushed slightly red. "I...I did." He whispered, almost inaudibly. His saviour's eyes narrowed, and then widened again in shock.

"Why?"

Daniel sighed. "My brother...he...he was different from other people. He was killed. And I don't want him to be dead; I would rather give my life than see my little brother dead. And because my parents are already gone, I don't have anyone."

The stranger nodded slowly; in understanding, if nothing more.

"Why do you want to help me?" Daniel asked him after a moment of almost-deadly silence.

"Because I hate vampires." he said quietly, voice rough and menacing. "I hunt them as a personal project, and test their blood to find a cure for the half-blooded...like you. He bit you, but there was no blood exchange, so you're what I call dhampir. Half-human, half-vampire. Besides..." His eyes were cold and glazed over. "You're a lot like me. I was in your position once. I just sure as hell hope you can get out of it quicker than I did."

"Oh." Daniel blinked in surprise. Me, half-vampire?

"What's your name, kid?"

"Daniel." He said simply; He trusted this boy, somehow.

He stuck out a hand and Daniel shook it sheepishly. "Shadow."

Daniel nodded slowly. "Um...nice name." Shadow cocked an eyebrow, and then chuckled softly.

"Ah, thank you." He stood up, helping Daniel to his feet quickly and picking up his crossbow again. Shadow gave him a vague salute, smiling subtly. "Well, maybe I'll see you around, Daniel." He held up the bloodied tissue. "Mind if I keep this? Testing."

"Sure, whatever." Daniel replied quietly. 

"I like to keep in contact with future test subjects. Until then." He turned, taking a few running steps forwards and then blurring away - much like Sam used to do - leaving him by himself. Daniel looked nervously down at the crumpled vampire's body, which was now ashes. Just like his brother. Daniel shook his head, running off quickly, extremely confused and hoping, for a change, to get home quickly. Hoping that no more vampires would confront him again that day to throw him even further from the shelf of solitude and sanity he had hastily built for myself.

Silently thanking Shadow for helping him when no one else would. Whoever he was.