Thanks to the following Wyrda members for inspiration and character ideas: Laela, narina, Gilrean Felegund, Ganon1, and my subscribers and friends.
A uranium plant leaks radiation near a hospital, mutating six unborn babies to a half animal state. They are taken away by the government and locked away in a tower in the middle of NYC (and when they are older, used for government missions). The main character of the story is Dracool, a punk half-bat with a seirious attitude. He is obviously aloud out at night because he has to feed (suck blood). Inspired by Hellboy.
Dracool glided gently down into the alleyway, folding great leathery black wings up against his back as he landed. Dracool was fifteen, tall, muscular, and had long blond hair, that was slicked back like a vampire's. He was wearing a black muscle shirt and baggy black jeans. His red eyes stood out in his pale face, making him look gaunter than he really was. He heard footsteps, and his head snapped around with inhuman speed. A balding man of forty carrying a breifcase walked past the alleyway entrance, whistling. Another worker of the graveyard shift was about to meet his end. Dracool snarled and his eyes lit up with excitment. Prey. He kicked a trashcan lid to attract the man's attention. When he came in to investigate, Dracool circled around behind him, boxing him in. The lawyer didn't even have time to scream as two-and-a-half inch fangs sunk into his neck. The world can always do with less lawyers. Dracool thought as he dragged his meal further into the alleyway. Just as he was settling down to eat, he heard a sound from outside the alleyway. "Who's there?" He said in a deep voice with a heavy Romainian accent. Licking his pale thin lips, he stood cautiously.
Lex was wandering down an ally on her way home when she heard someone off to the side. She felt in her pocket to make sure her switchblade was there and continued on till whoever it was called out asking who was there.
"What's it to you?" Lex retorted walking toward wherever the voice come from. "Why do you care? I don't want trouble," she assured whoever it was. This part of town was known for the gangs and trouble makers that hung out down here. But she wasn't worried she was a streetie herself and could defend herself if she needed.
Because of his superior night vision, Dracool saw the young woman pull her knife. He was not worried, as he knew he could easiliy overpower her if need be. He didn't want to hurt her, but also knew he might have to. He crept forward. "I will not hurt you if you will not hurt me."
Erica was driving through the alleyway that night. She was the only one on the road which was not very surprising due to the late hour of the night. She silently prayed that her luck would continue and that she wouldn't meet anyone here, seeing as how anyone she might meet in this place might prove to be an aquiantance she would prefer not to make.
Most would advise you not to drive around the backstreets of the Big Apple at night. And Erica would follow this advice under normal circumstances. But trying to get away from gangsters weren't exactly normal circumstances. She had to get away soon and she hoped that those who were looking for her didn't suspect her of being so bold as to leave in the middle of the night.
Erica was thinking, contemplating which road to take next when she saw a girl walking along the side of the road. She swerved out of the way so she wouldn't hit her and she ran straight into a lamp post next to a de-lidded trash can.
Erica's mouth dropped open and all she could think was,
My mustang. My silver mustang!!! Before she could remember about the girl she jumped out of the car and ran to the lamp-post. When she got there and looked around herself she screamed. Her scream wasn't aimed at the damage done to the car but the two people, if the bat boy could have been called a person, behind the trashcan.
The sudden brightness of the headlights blinded Dracool and his first reflex was to displace his jaw, spread his wings to their full twenty foot span, and hiss loudly.
Erica kept on screaming. It was as if she had suddenly stepped into the movie Van Helsing. She could feel a chill running down her spine. If she wasn't terror-striken she would have started booking it. But under the circumstances she was frozen with fear and she couldn't move. She just stood there, hand over mouth, screaming.