Blood and Bone Prologue

A/n: I'd like to start this delightful (yeah right) story off by saying that the rituals and beliefs excersized in this story are in no way my beliefs and writing this story does not mean I condone any of the acts in here. Thanks.

If you can't handle murder, blood, gore, alcohol consumption, drug use, mild sexual content, sexually suggested dialogue, killing of innocent children, or swearing, I suggest you shouldn't read any farther. The prologue is fine, but trust me it gets worse.

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A young woman, blonde, and underfed by the look of her tore out of the expansive mansion on 245 Riddle Court. Although the people whom she had considered her most intimate "friends" for the past few weeks had not made any move to prevent her from leaving she still felt the need to get the hell out of there and to do it quick. Her "friends" didn't mind her leaving... but It.... It did not like anyone leaving. It didn't like it when people shunned away from it and ran from It. It didn't like losing control of It's providers...

And she still felt It. Though she had never seen It, It had some sort of power of the residents of Riddle Manor. They could feel It, almost lurking in their thoughts, under their skin, just around the next corner... None had seen It. They just put faith in the fact It was there. Maybe too much because It was growing stronger, almost as if It was feeding off them.

They were all afraid of what It's intentions were, but most were too scared to make a run for it. No one wanted It unleashing It's wrath upon them... So they sat there, day after day... week after week, doing just as It wanted. Sometimes they were allowed out for trivial things such as groceries... It understood they needed to eat. But It only released them from this Hell if they brought back a little treat for It. ... A human... Mostly people in their mid-thirties... sometimes older... It didn't like anyone between sixteen or so and twenty-five. They were like poison to it.

... It liked the young ones the best. The children. The ones still too innocent to know what was going on in the world or that not all people were to be trusted. Especially a group of young men and women between seventeen and twenty-four. It may not have liked them as sacrifices, but It found they were the best servants. The only ones who could perform certain tasks in short periods of time and still feel guilt-free afterwards. In return for their services, It granted them eternal youth or instant death at twenty-five, depending on how they performed.

Damion watched from the window as Melody bolted towards the fence, tutting and shaking his head. He had seen this before. He'd been here for years... He'd seen too much for his age. He was only twenty-two, yet he'd seen more bloodshed than most people triple his age. The blonde man turned his head as she neared the fence. This was the part he hated the most. The others, however, (mostly the youngest ones) watched with a sick fascination.

He would have spoken, but it would have done no good. They never allowed their friends to die in peace. They always had to gawk as if their friends were animals in a zoo or something. Maybe it was just him, but watching his friends die sickened him even if it was their own damned fault.

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"Almost there, Mel. Just a few more - Whoa! What the fuck?!" A force suddenly held her in place and she struggled against it. Her big blue eyes went wide as she felt herself lift off the ground... And suddenly she found she could move again. And move she did, flailing her arms, kicking at the unseen force.

The one last thing she wanted to do was scream, but try as she might she couldn't. Not until she saw where she was headed... A huge, black, iron fence surrounded Riddle manor with the tops stretching up high and ending in sharp points. "NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" She managed to shriek out and then a final scream before the force impaled her on a large spike.

It always allowed them a final scream. Somehow, It got some sort of pleasure out of it. And it kept the nosy neighbors from wandering down, which was always good. The last thing It wanted was for someone to find something incriminating... A little boy's shoe... A woman's wallet... Questions would be asked and It's servants would be taken from It. And It couldn't let that happen...

--- A/n: Reviews are appreciated. Flamers will be shot. I don't want any bullshit asking how I could write something like this. If you don't like it, don't read it. It's as simple as that.