Tuesday, June 1, 2004

Purity in its Darkest Form

In the darkest of nights, there is always a speck of light; in the darkest of times, there is always a speck of hope.


Vampires stroll the street, trolls wander the sewers; the night is not the time to be uncautious, and even werewolves watch out for who they might cross.

The only king of the darkness is the cat, blacker than the shadows of the moon. He slinks across the world, doing as he wishes where he wishes, and all but one bend to his command.


"My master is looking for one of your kind."

"Does he now?" The vampire is clearly shaken. "Any in particular?"

"Yes. From the Art line."


"Yes. He who goes by the name The Son. My master wants to meet with him.

"Ah, The Son. Does your master realize that I, nor any in my line are associated with Him in anyway?"

Puure arches his back, snarling. "There is no other 'Him' than my master and His closest disciples. Do you understand?"

"I--I do. Please accept my forgiveness in this matter. If there's anything--"

"Yes. Bring The Son to us." Then he disappears with a flick of his tail. Strovesque lets out the breath he was holding, and slowly calms himself; with a much less graceful exit (to protect himself from Puure's wrath) he vanishes as well.

Note on Pronunciation:
"Strovesque" strov (short o, strongest accent) es (short e, soft s, secondary accent) cue (pronounced identically to the letter Q)
"Puure" (pronunced same as pure)

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