-part one out of three parts of the children's saga…its essentially a vampire story, in three parts.
-excuse the spelling/grammatical errors(there are a lot!)
Children of Death
"That's it, follow in, and come forward, my children." A tall figure stood at the front of an expansive room. "Ah so many of you have turned up," the man started, "its good to see all of your gleaming faces." He gave a cruel smile that spread across his face showing his yellowing teeth. The man was standing on a stage of wooden crates, giving him a height advantage over the others in the room. It was not necessary though his presence enough gave him the form he wanted.
The room in which 'his children' were situated was surrounded by large windows, which cast an eerie shadow down from where they perched. Cobwebs littered each pane, especially where the glass had been broken. The roof was high and created from a form of corrugated metal held together by rusting beams. It had been patched up recently as new pieces of corrugated metal had been roughly places over rusted holes. Two halogen lights dangled from the ceiling above the crowd. Both of them were old and granted little light while they flickered away with their orange glow to the faces of 'children' below. Further back there were other light but the bulbs had gone or they were just of no use at the time.
"Now it is to my great knowledge that you all have recently become part of our ranks." He smiled again. His voice was hoarse, and bounced of the walls creating an echo, that chilled one down to their bones. The 'children' however showed no sign of apprehension. Some smiled with the man in front. Their faces were glowing, their eyes lighting up with malice. They shuffled a little as the last few got a good view of this impressive figure in front.
"Good, good." He smiled again. Paused and looked over the crowd. There were about 30 of his 'children' in this room. The 'children' were not children though some were fully grown adults, others in their mid twenties. The moon turned the corner of the building and shone in one of the windows. Shadows flared and danced across the floor, seducing all that looked upon them. The figure in front of the crowd looked up to it, almost hypnotized by its powerful rays of light that so mimicked the sun in a sinister way.
"Authors," he began again, "have talked about our kind in many a book. Some strew our tales, myths and traditions on the floor and spit at our faces." He paused again, a dramatic pause. "Others tell the truth." He watched the moon for another second then turned his beastly eyes back on the crowd. "But this meeting is here to tell the truth and only the truth." There was a whispering in the audience but it was quenched when the man at the front spoke up, "silence!" the figure had a strong tone in his voice as he said that word, one that could send shivers down any human's spine.
"We are the beauty of the world, the eighth wonder, if you prefer," He began. "We are immortal; but this should not be over looked. For, we, as a race are not immortal as you might think of it now. We can be killed." He looked at some faces in the crowd. Each was filled with wonder, astonishment, and a certain element of shock.
"Let us look onto the great legend about killing a one of us with a stake through the heart. As it has been said in so many of our greatest films and books" he paused, building tension. "This is true," he finished. "But it will also kill the regulars." He tilted his head to the side and let out a laugh. Some of the 'children' in the crowed laughed along but his laugh echoed of every wall almost canceling all the others out. The figure looked back to the moon. It was continuing to move around the building, now reaching the second pane of the window and still rising. It caught an edge of broken glace and flared on the far wall.
"Decapitation, burning, and poisoning. Those will all kill us," he began his comeback though "if one puts it simply; we just live longer. Centuries if one doesn't get themselves killed." He looked for a second back to his eager audience as they gobbled up every word he spoke as if it were a sweet candy to an infant. "No natural death can come upon us, plagues and fevers we are immune to." There was a slight pause again as talk subsided.
"All of these are petty in the light of one. The sun!" the tone of his rough voice became even more serious. "It will do bad things to our insides it will make your blood boil, your organs fry, and your bones melt. This is one of the most dangerous aspects of our immortal life, and I must stress this now." There was a silence again. A longer pause to let what had been said sink in.
"Other myths such as Holy water, crosses, garlic," he continued now on a lighter note. "Are false." The figure looked to his shoes for a second arranging his speech in his head. Then he continued, "Holy water will burn, but not kill. For we are the children of Hell! That goes the same with crosses; crosses are nothing but firewood to us that is except in a church where the power of good is too great. To enter the sanctuary of a church is forbidden!" his face was now slightly flustered but it returned to normal as he revisited the lighter part of his speech.
"As for Garlic; garlic is, I think, a great food." The moon moved into the third panel of glass, the man sighed.
"You have also learned that we drink the blood of the mortals, to prolong our immortal lives. To feast upon he mortal blood is right and feeds the devil inside of us. Do not fear, revere, or feel for these creatures of blood. You are not one of them anymore!" he paused again. "The first death is the greatest thing to ever happen to you, better than anything you have ever felt or done in your mortal lives."
"Dwell on that has been said here, you are now creatures of the night." He paused again, referring to the moon for strength. "Go to your masters now, they will be expecting you." He spread his arms open, drawing a great breath, "RUN FREE, CHILDREN OF DEATH!"