She was created from anger and hate,

Born before heaven’s gate.

A warrior angel she was destined to be.

Please, help us set our people free!

We need you, we need you.

Horrible times have fallen,

Please, hear us callin’

We need your strength, your heart,

Before our people fall apart.

With a pelt that is snow white

and emerald eyes...

(words faded and not legible)

Derron is the only city located on N.E. (New Earth for those of you who have never been here). It is an advanced metropolis, grossing over 4 million in population and everything seems larger here in Derron. The city is made up of grand skyscrapers and towers, buildings and factories. As you move away from the centre of the city the buildings become smaller in stature and on the outskirts, you reach the Ruts. The vast majority of the population reside within the central part of Derron, however some who wish to enjoy the forest that surrounds the city, as well as covers the entire planet live in the Ruts. Being confined in a world of gray concrete can reek havoc on your person, as some well know thus the forest is the perfect escape. There are other reasons why people choose to be closer to the forest, not everyone in Derron is entirely human.

x-x-x

The night was cold and bleak, colder than it should have been for mid-May. The customary smog of large cities blanketed the black sky, masking the beauty of the stars and half-moon that lurked behind it. People pulled their coats tighter around them in efforts to preserve their body heat as they shuffled along the narrow urban street ways of Derron. Cars puttered along in traffic, which seemed to be a constant here. Streetlights were the only things illuminating the eerie streets with many alleyways tonight in the moon’s absence.

One run-down street in the poorer part of town was rather quiet and lacking the bustle of traffic. A few older modeled cars, ancient in terms of today, lined the potholed street on both sides as aging buildings converted into apartments loomed over the street. What this street lacked too was the presence of people, however that was soon to change.

A lone hunched over figure turned the corner and scurried down the street. He was an aged fellow with wrinkled features and grizzly in appearance. A halo of grayed hair sat upon his balding head and he looked like he hadn’t shaved his bear in a while. The man turned and descended some steps to the entranceway of a basement apartment. Wooden fingers fumbled with a set of clinking keys as he rushed to find the right one. His thin lips moved fervently as he mumbled to himself. Finally have a firm grasp on a brass-coloured key, he unlocked the door and entered the dark room.

This old man bypassed the living room, not even pausing to turn on the lights and headed straight for the hallway. He entered a small room that contained within its grayed walls shelves upon shelves of books and papers as well as an old wooden desk covered with papers. The only light he turned on was the lamp that was perched on the corner of the desk. He hurriedly searched through the piles of papers and leather-bound books that were piled on the desk. In an agitated state, he threw the unwanted items to the floor.

“I have to find it! Where is that blasted book?” He cursed to himself, not finding what he wanted on the desk and moving onto the bookshelves. Pale blue eyes, so pale that it seemed inhuman to have eyes that colour passed over the various books. Book after book, shelf after shelf he looked, until he finally found what he was so anxious to find. The old man pulled a thin, leathered book that was threatening to fall apart off of the top-most shelf. With one sweeping motion of his arm, the desk was cleared and the book was placed on its marred surface. He hunched over the desk, opening the book and flipping through its yellowed and faded pages, which some seem to be torn and missing.

He came to a stop at a page which seemed to have something written on it, albeit faded and hard to read. His pale eyes darted over the words, absorbing what they had to tell him. In a raspy gasp, he began to rant, “Oh dear Kinne, this is it! The prophecy! The prophecy! He must know, he must!” The man was so engrossed in his task, that he failed to hear the gently tapping of something hard hitting the concrete floors, failed to hear the deep, excited panting.

Grasping the book, the man turned around and immediately dropped the book with final, strangled cry. Thick, dark red blood splattered all over the small room, coating the pieces of literature in droplets of red. The man’s dead body fell with a dull thump to the floor and a pool of blood began to form beneath him. The book which he so vigilantly searched for, the piece of paper that he needed to read, was covered with blood. The words of this ‘prophecy’ smeared and illegible. His inhuman eyes, stared lifelessly in shock into the cold, concrete eyes of his killer. It was on this night, this cold May night, that certain events were put into motion which would have consequences none had ever thought about before.