Prologue: Exordium

"Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valiant never taste of death but once.
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,
It seems to me most strange that men should fear,
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come."

~ Shakespeare, Julius Caesar, II,ii,34-39.

"Are you death?"

Maebure seemed to pause for the slightest of moments, before remembering to close the balcony windows behind him. He stood there quietly contemplating the simple question, his lithe figure awash in the soft moonlight streaming through the curtained windows; the effect served to make the young immortal seem all the more angelic. Finally, his fine, thin lips curled into a soft smile, lips pulling back slightly to reveal a set of unusually sharp canines. "I suppose so," he replied simply, as he glided across the bedroom floor towards the young child lying nestled amongst an assortment of plush dolls and immaculate linens. He noted, with some amusement, the crucifix draped about the girl's neck, the overly large necklace disappearing amidst the folds of her nightgown. 'Very cute,' Maebure thought, chuckling ethereally as he sat down in a nearby wicker chair at the end of the bed. He leaned in close, his cold breath against her rosy cheeks drawing a slight shiver from the girl. "Are you afraid of me, Hana-dear?" Slowly, ever so slowly, Maebure inched towards her bared neck, the faint scent of blood driving the empyreal being mad with desire.

Body tensed in anticipation, Hana shakily nodded her head in affirmation, charcoal-colored eyes watching as the raven haired devil playfully nuzzled her throat. She shuddered at his lifeless touch, his clammy touch raising goose-bumps all along her neck, and shifted about in agitation. "Please, please don't," she implored fearfully, hands clutching tightly at the sheets as she felt twin points begin to press into her snowy white neck.

The young vampire paused to give his victim an amused smirk, and playfully ran a slender hand through her mahogany locks. "Dear, sweet Hana," Maebure sighed, while gently patting one of her limp hands. "Poor, sweet Hana."

"P-please, I…"

"Sweet dreams, frail flower." Maebure sighed in contentment, as he sunk his fangs into the side of her throat, eliciting a faint gasp from the spellbound child, who could do nothing more than scream silently into the still night air…

To be continued.

Author's notes: An original! ^_^

Comments and criticism are greatly appreciated. Thanks!

~ Kess

Webmaster: Larry F
Last revision: May 21, 2007