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Windows were closing.

Underville's people were terrified for the safety of their lives, as well as their children's lives. As matter of late there has been cases of murders, and citizens going missing in the area.

Those who were accused of witchcraft or vampirism were either staked or crucified and burnt.

Those were accused of vampirism-

They were hauled away, and killed. The king did not want any more of his people becoming a threat to his kingdom. Most do know that vampires who don't have a soul or heart, are considered demons.

If one or more man or woman of his kingdom were to be marked with 'his mark', as they would call it, they would constantly be killed without mercy. Encre never did know what they meant when they continued to say 'his'.

Most times they kill the accused in public, so they can show how much they dispise those demons.

To be honest, Encre thought it was ridiculous.

All those people, accused for something they didn't actually do.

There was once one who had survived getting bitten without turning into a complete immortal. Becoming immune to the venom of a vampire's bite, Charlos Monroe, he was one of the rarest of many who has gotten attacked by a demon. And surprisingly survived,

In the end. He ended up turning, and, becoming completely ill.

Charlos had started talking, and rambling on about this person who was so called "king of the forest". And why mortality should serve under him instead of the false king who was known to rule the kingdom of Underville.

But, Asgore wasn't exactly a false king. He was pure, and trying to protect his cherished people he cared for deeply.

- - - -

Encre.

Waking up in a sudden tremble, sweat beating his fore skull. Not yet awake, staring up at the ceiling for a few long minutes. Hearing the grandfather clock tick,

The longer he continued to stare. The louder the sound of the clock grew, within his mind he began to tremble further. Fearing for his life that he was going to be exactly like those few who had gotten murdered, or accused of being a witch. Encre hated the fact that those who were accused of such a thing had to die, weren't witches good, too? Like us? He told himself, sitting up in his bed. Staring at the curtain window,

He had lived on his own. When he was a young child, about the age of four. His parents had perished trying to fight off the group rampage of witches. King Asgore sent them to protect his people.

Asgore had taken him in like Encre was his own child. Giving him a job, and a home. In which, Encre thought was very considerate of the king.

He sighed, staring at a picture of his parents on his desk. He knew they did it to protect him, and also to protect the kingdom. In truth, Encre didn't wish to blame Asgore. He was trying to protect his people. His kingdom.

Encre had worked for King Asgore. He spoke fluent English, in return along with French. He lived in a village known as-

Underville.

A small quiet town. Or for what it had seemed. It was quiet for a few years, or so it felt.

Encre had been an artist. He enjoyed going out onto the mountain, drawing what he sees before him.

He suddenly makes his bed, fluffing his pillow. Setting it back down onto the bed. He had a small bedroom, it was a tad overly crowded. Mostly by books of mythical stories and creatures. Others, would be his art. Rewards in return from serving the king and his kingdom.

Eternal Eclipse  | Fallacy X Encre |Where stories live. Discover now