PRMB Prologue

Prologue…

The peace of the dark forest was broken by hurried footsteps, each step propelling their maker forward with great speed. Thick leather boots were careful to avoid leaves and branches, any sound that would alert them to his presence. He had taken all precautions necessary to evade them, including masking his mouth to silence his breath. His wide-brimmed hat shielded his eyes and his long black leather coat flew behind him. Soon, the air around him grew cold. So it had begun…

He continued running, listening to his surroundings carefully. A huge tree was coming up, blocking his path. If he went around it and its protruding roots, he would surely be taken. Leaping up, he stepped off of the high root and soared into the air just as a scythe swung beneath him. He flipped and landed on his feet, continuing to run. He had narrowly avoided trouble just then, he’d need to be sharper. As he continued to run, he heard a rustling to his right, and immediately dove forward into a roll. A bandage whipped past his back, skimming his jacket.

The man got up and continued sprinting through the hellish forest around him. As he ran, he no longer heard dry ground, but splashing water as his feet sloshed through the small river. Damn! He thought, only quickening his hectic pace. He couldn’t be in the water. He couldn’t—

His train of thought was disrupted as the water all around him simultaneously shot up. The moonlight glinted in the sparkles of water, masking the scales and webbing reaching out for him. He sidestepped, dodging and escaping the water’s confines.

Free from any distractions, the forest ahead was quiet, so quiet that the only sound to his ears was the wind against the trees’ bare branches. Were there no birds in this forest? Or maybe the birds weren’t chirping for another reason. He averted his gaze from ahead to above, seeing a mass of fur and claws drop down from the treetops. The bestial roar was all he could hear as he flipped forward. He was becoming tired now, he couldn’t keep this up for long. As he ran, he noticed the moonlight dimming into shadow all around him, into a shape feared by all but him. Bat wings blocked his view of the full moon.

They were on him now, that he was sure of. He heard their cries now, full force: A whispered scream, a deep, ancient moan, a hiss like that of an angered crocodile, a blood curdling howl, and a bat’s screech. All around him, the sounds grew until he burst forth onto the Cliffside over looking the Black Sea. They had chased him all over Transylvania, through Moldova and into Dobrogea, all to no avail. Now they finally had him.

But he’d make sure they wouldn’t. A streak of lightning flashed across the sky, accompanied by the low rumble of a coming storm. He could see the black clouds coming from the ocean, and could tell it would be a rough one. He heard heavy wing beats behind him and he turned, to see a creature perched on a rock before him. It’s great wings like that of a bat shrunk and folded against its back to reveal royal clothes, and a face that looked to be chiseled from stone, pale as snow.

“Count Dracula,” He said, “what an un-pleasant surprise.” As soon as he said this, other creatures stepped out from the shadows of the rock. Only now did he see how large the rock truly was. The clouds were coming quicker, and the shadows had grown a significant amount from the blocked moon. Now, only the flashes of lightning illuminated the Cliffside. A bolt of lightning, and he could see two forms standing to either stand of the Count: A furred form, hunched over, muscles ripping at the fur that enclosed them. He didn’t know the man’s human name, but he did know he was The Alpha, the supreme leader of werewolves. On the other side, bandages and gold wrapped themselves around a tall and lanky figure, the only glimpse of life was the two glaring red eyes beneath the mask of papyrus: High Priest Imhotep, cursed to walk eternally as The Mummy. The mist that had begun to gather from the forest swirled up behind Dracula, and a flash of lightning reflected off of a massive scythe. Flowing black robes wrapped themselves around the scythe, the whispers of another world echoing from its hood. Death itself, The Grim Reaper had joined the party. “Wasn’t there another one of you freaks around here?” As if on cue, a spout of water surged upwards from the Black Sea behind him, and upon turning, the Creature was illuminated in the storm. Fish scales and webbing covered the body, leading to a reptilian face and a fish’s tail. The Swamp Creature hissed in time with the rumble of thunder.

“You shouldn’t have done this, Helsing.” Dracula’s smooth, melodious voice sounded from behind him. “You’re surrounded. Surrender peacefully and we can put this all to an end.”

Helsing turned, deciding to add insult to injury. “It’s already at an end, Count. Or, have you not noticed that man has all but hunted down every last of your races. You have nothing left. I, Dr. Abraham Van Helsing, have single-handedly rendered mankind under my spell. They think you monsters are a thing to be feared, and thusly they followed my orders.” He smiled a wicked smile and began to laugh maniacally with the same psychotic edge that lingered in his voice. He straightened up, pushing a lock of hair from his face and breathing in, collecting himself. “Oh, by the way, how’s old Frankenstein, hmm?”

Helsing could see that hit the mark as was intended. Dracula flinched backwards ever so slightly. This was all part of Helsing’s plan, and his prey was walking straight into it. “Do you think it hurt when I murdered his precious invention? His ‘key to life’, as it were?” He chuckled a low, dark chuckle. “And now,” he added, reveling in the sweet stench of victory, closing his eyes. “It’s all over for your kind. I have come out on top.” His eyes grew colder as he looked back to Dracula. “’Tis time to wipe you all out, once and for all!” Helsing took out a book at lightning speed, flipping to a page and reading its contents. He began muttering in old Latin, the wind picking up around him.

Dracula’s eyes widened as he realized what he was doing. He hissed and pointed to Helsing. “We must stop him! Stop him before it’s too late!”

Imhotep nodded, and his arms flung out, bandages flying towards Helsing. He spoke something in Ancient Egyptian, roughly translated to ‘With pleasure.’ The bandages wrapped around Van Helsing, keeping him still. Death flew above them, his own ghastly winds battling those swept up by Van Helsing’s incantations. Van Helsing spoke with more urgency, accompanied by near sideways rain buffeting them. The Swamp Creature raised his hands, commanding the rain to swirl around Van Helsing, but even that did not stop him. His words echoed now throughout the storm, never ceasing, flowing into one. The Alpha dove forward, slashing and tearing at Helsing’s clothes, hoping to break skin and bone. Through the slashes and the slices, Helsing stood tall, partly because of Imhotep’s bandages, and partly because of the spell he was weaving.

Helsing drew nearer to the final word, when he stopped abruptly. His eyes widened and glanced down at the sword protruding from his chest. Dracula flew from behind him, landing face to face with the Hunter. “You brought this upon yourself, Helsing.” The smell of blood made his nostrils flare, and it took every ounce of control not to tear into Helsing right then and there. But he decided he would let him suffer.

Helsing’s pain-stricken face soon melted away to that of defiance. The quick change took Dracula by surprise. Wheezing, with blood pouring from his mouth, Dracula said one more small word in Latin, and it was complete. Each monster doubled over in pain, crying out in their own tongue. “No, demon,” Helsing croaked, “You brought this on yourself. You’ve disgraced the land with your wretched lives.” He wheezed, coughing up more blood. “And now it is no more!”

Dracula managed to look back up at Helsing one last time, before a flash out of the corner of his eye made him look away. A pink aura engulfed Death, making him flicker in and out of reality, finally making him disappear. The pink aura flew off into the distance. Another flash, this time of yellow. It engulfed Imhotep, withering his body away to dust until all that was left was bandages and gold. That aura too flew away. The Swamp Creature was surrounded in green, and he dried up, every bit of moisture in his body taken away from him, flying off with the aura. The Alpha howled in pain as the fur fell from his skin, and the blue aura surrounding him flew off, leaving a dead human body. Finally, Dracula looked to his hands, and they were glowing red. He took one look to Van Helsing before melting away, leaving nothing but a Vampire’s skeleton sprawled out on the hard ground.

Van Helsing, having lost so much blood, weakly pulled Dracula’s sword from his body, throwing it to the ground by Dracula’s bones. He could see the multi-colored auras still flying into the distance, exactly as he had intended. He managed a half hearted smile and fell to the ground, dead. He died knowing that those he had hunted so passionately were dead, knowing that he died fulfilling his life’s work, knowing that he would be back again…