Far out in the woodlands a lone car made its way down the long road. It was a crisp night, the moon hung low in the sky and was nearly full. Thick clouds blanketed the stars and parts of the moon casting the forest in dark shadows. It was not a night one would not find themselves out of the comforts of their home. Yet the driver wasn't perturbed.
He was a handsome man in his early thirties and prided himself over his brilliant blond hair, periwinkle blue eyes, and dazzling white teeth. His name was Gilderoy Lockhart. And he was a well known romance novelist of a heroic wizard, modeled after himself of course, and his grandeur adventures across the European continent. Often saving beautiful damsels from grotesque monsters.
Lockhart was well beloved amongst the women, especially the mothers, and to the world he was seen as a benevolent and humble man with a giving nature; there were many charities Lockhart donated to. But beneath the caring facade laid a dark and sordid secret. One that no one was even aware of. While Lockhart was often fawned over by young beautiful women, they didn't, couldn't, quite pique his interest. The author had a particular taste that he kept all to himself. It was a secret he would take to the grave, no one would understand if they discovered his true nature. Gilderoy Lockhart was first and foremost, a predator. His prey; supple, young boys. He had had a craving for them for as long as he could remember.
When the urges first appeared, the author fought valiantly against them, disgusted with himself. In his twenties, Lockhart would sleep with anyone he found attractive enough, both women and men, to rid the cravings out of his system. Yet he always found himself unsatisfied after each coupling; still longing for what his body truly desired. It wasn't until after his first bestseller that Lockhart finally gave in to his body's needs.
The young man still lived in an apartment complex and had one day ran into a single mother with a ten year old boy that moved down the hall of his old. The boy was beautiful, the author remembered with relish. With soft brown eyes and blond hair that framed the face it was all Gilderoy could do not to take the boy then and there. Lockhart had tried not to give into temptation, he did everything he could to avoid the small family at all costs. But he was a man, and a man had needs. Lockhart remembered the event vividly. He donned on a ski mask and dragging the unwilling boy into a supply closet. It was hurried and messy and the boy wouldn't stop crying; however he did try to make the boy's experience enjoyable. Nevertheless, it was the best experience Lockhart had ever had.
Now he no longer felt the profound guilt in taking the innocence of young boys. Lockhart had found it more quenching to his hunger to taint and corrupt what was deemed forbidden by society. The first few times Lockhart would wear a ski mask and take his victims to a secluded place before leaving them alone a half hour later. However as time passed, Lockhart knew sooner or later he would be caught if he left his boys alive. He had to be especially cautious when looking for his next fix; he was well known figure to the public eye. Even his publisher, Rita Skeeter, wasn't aware of his particular...appetite.
Lockhart had made a series of rules he must follow to the 'T' from ever being caught. The boys must be from an orphanage or a group home, unimportant to society. He could only indulged in his hunger once a year, in a secluded cabin far out in the country. And after he had his fun, dispose the bodies. He made sure they'd never be heard from again. Lockhart had followed his new set of rules three times now. He remembered all of his boys as though it was only yesterday, especially the last three. Stewart Johnson was a timid and scared boy, Kevin Wyatt was submissive, and Geoffrey Barnes was a slippery one, he nearly escaped from his grasp a few times. And earlier in the day Lockhart caught his feisty little lion; he hadn't yet known the boy's name.
The ten year old was abnormally strong for his age and was rather pale, but Lockhart was stronger. The boy had been drugged and was now tied and gagged in the trunk of Lockhart's car. And after driving on the long road all day, the author was now only thirty minutes away from his cabin. The man's skin was thrumming with excitement and need that was difficult to control. It had been far too long since quenched his insatiable desires.
He thought back to when he caught the boy scrounging around in an alleyway in the pit of night, he skin was covered in dirt and grime and it looked as though he hadn't eaten in days. Nevertheless the boy was the most precious cherub Lockhart had ever seen. Gilderoy didn't care that the boy was filthy and his skin was ice cold to the touch, a surge of need unlike ever before coursed through the author's very veins and before Lockhart knew it, he drugged the unsuspecting boy with chloroform and placed him in the trunk of his car.
His car was driving around the bend of the two way road. It was surrounded by the looming trees and his headlights illuminated the view before him. The man was mindlessly humming along to a tune on the radio, while snacking away on an orange slice, when a humanoid figure dashed across the road. Lockhart cursed loudly and turned the wheel hard. The car fish-tailed and Lockhart slammed the breaks until his car skidded into a ditch at the side of the highway.
The author panted heavily into his steering wheel and pushed back the fringe of his hair. "What the fuck?" he muttered, perplexed. He turned down the volume of his radio and glared into the nighttime forest. Lockhart couldn't see anything beyond his headlights. What the fuck was that? he thought It didn't look like any animal he'd ever seen. It almost looked human...but that was ridiculous. No human could run that fast.
Lockhart quickly set his car in reverse and gently pushed on the pedal. The tires squealed, but the car didn't budge. Not perturbed, Lockhart slammed down on the pedal until the car lurched halfway out of the ditch and back onto the road. He breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing was going to stop his rendezvous with his little boy.
A low hiss echoed throughout the surrounding forest. Lockhart's stomach plummeted to the soles of his feet. The strange animal was still out there, lurking just outside his vision. Lockhart gave a shrill scream as another figure dashed passed the driver's window. The front, left tire popped loudly and the car dropped, as did Lockhart's heart. The spare tire was in the trunk, but Lockhart didn't want to get out of the car. Whatever was out there, had taken an unwanted interest in him. Lockhart gulped nervously and wiped the sweat from his brow. Thinking quickly, he went to double checked that all of his doors were locked and windows were rolled up. Lockhart crawled into the backseat and breathed a sigh of relief when all doors were safely locked. He was safe.
But he suddenly felt the hairs at the back of his neck prickled, and a cold shiver ran down the length of his spine. Something was watching him. The author frantically looked about through his windows, but could see nothing in the darkness. Whatever was out there, was toying with him. Lockhart was at a lost on what he should do. The nearest town was an hour away and the author wouldn't dare flag down a car; he still had an unconscious boy tied up in his trunk. But at the same time, he didn't want to be in the presence of the unknown creature prowling about in the trees. His body froze in place, the animal emitted another deep, rumbling hiss; it was closer.
Gilderoy peeked over his front seat out into the forest. A small whimper escaped from his lips. He could make out a figure something hunched in the trees. A pair of glowing dark brown eyes peered from the thicket right into his very wide blue eyes. The creature growled menacingly and Gilderoy heard it take a whiff. Lockhart's breathing was shallow and his pulse was beginning to race. The creature with the ungodly eyes never left his own. It could see clearly into the vehicle, regardless of the headlights facing it. They followed every minute movement the petrified author made, and every breath taken. Lockhart swallowed nervously, the thing was...studying him. "What is that? What is that!" he whispered frantically.
Fearing for his life, Lockhart reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a pocket knife he kept on him to keep his boys in line. But he screamed horribly when something landed hard on the roof of his car. The knife slipped from his grasps and it tumbled out of reach underneath the driver's seat. The metal groaned in protest and there were dents in some places. Lockhart snapped his head back to the forest, the pair of brown eyes were still observing him from afar. Lockhart groaned, there was more than one!
The car lurched forward as something else pounced from behind. Lockhart yelped as he saw a man with soft glowing gray eyes glower at the author. He appeared to be human and had a handsome face with a trimmed beard. His hair grew to the middle of his shoulders and was pulled back with a band, it was straight and black. The male was well built and tall in stature and appeared to be around the same age as Gilderoy. The being had on an open black trench coat (he wore no shirt), blue worn jeans and black boots. But what froze Lockhart with dread was the look in the stranger's eyes.
The way he stared down at him, through him, as if he could see the very core of his soul (if Lockhart was foolish enough to believe in that sort of mania), they were eyes of a predator. Lockhart's skin broke out into a cold sweat. The author nearly lost control of his bladder when the creature smiled malignly, revealing rows of lethal, pointed teeth. He whimpered and curled in on himself, the being definitely wasn't human!
Another figure leapt off the roof of his car and landed deftly onto the pavement. It was another one! He wore dark clothing and had a pair of glowing hazel eyes and wild raven black hair. Lockhart quickly looked back at the bushes and moaned in despair. The third being was no longer in the forest, but sitting casually on the hood of his car. He had sandy brown hair, and the left side of his face was marred with an old jagged scar.
The trio gazed inquisitively at the author in the car. Lockhart feared that they were cannibalistic wild men that made the forest their home. But people weren't as strong as the creatures around his car. Normal people couldn't pop a car tire with their bare hands, nor did they have rows of jagged teeth. So what were they? Gilderoy didn't know, and his terrified him. Why were they interested in him? One of the males chuckled darkly. "He's petrified." he commented with pride.
"He's seconds away from pissing his pants, Sirius, of course he's petrified." the wild hair male replied. The one named Sirius snickered while the other one rolled his eyes. The hazel eyed one stared back into the blue eyes of Gilderoy. The creature tilted his head to one side like that of a curious child and continued studying the author.
Lockhart felt entrapped in the creature's eyes. It felt as though the creature could read every thought, memory, and secret the blond haired man had. The creature knew all of his deeds, and Lockhart could do nothing to stop him. The author felt violated; vulnerable. What mind trick was the strange being doing to him? After a few moments of silence the creature smirked down at the feeble man. "He has a tainted soul." he spoke to the others. The males jeered and Lockhart cowered further into the seat. What nonsense were they rambling about? Why were they mentioning souls? "Do you smell the scent of his blood?" his voiced rumbled huskily.
The two other males wetted their lips keenly and Lockhart desperately wished that he was invisible or back in his penthouse in the big city. He had never met individuals that were so interested in his "soul" and blood. There was no doubt in Lockhart's mind that these creatures were predators on the prowl. He hoped his car was sturdy enough to keep them at bay. But the dented roof of his car didn't give Gilderoy much optimism.
"It's intoxicating." the one on the car hood commented further. "I was worried we wouldn't be able to find one tonight, there are not many in these parts." They're not gonna eat me, are they? The male took another deep whiff and frowned. "I smell the scent of another." he commented "It's different." he looked to the duo, perplexed. Lockhart eyes drifted to his back seat where the little boy laid. "It's coming from the trunk."
The one called Sirius ripped open the lid and tossed it some meters behind him. He gasped and looked at the two males in a mixture of confusion and anger. Lockhart felt his stomach drop like it was filled with stones. The one named James looked to Sirius with worry. "What is it, Sirius? Is it another human?"
"It's a young boy, no older than ten." he said in disbelief.
"What?" James shouted in disbelief. "We should have sense the purity of his soul kilometers away!"
"If he were human, yes." Sirius responded. He looked to the coven leader incredulity. "James, the boy is of kin." he glanced meaningfully at his two companions. The leader's hazel eyes glowed hotly, displaying true rage. He released a booming roar into the nighttime sky that had Lockhart gripping his chest in terror. The enraged feral man snarled at the cowering author, eyes pitch black. His teeth elongated into gleaming white fangs, and nails became claws. The male punched through the door, and yanked it off its hinges and tossed it somewhere behind him.
Lockhart pressed himself back against the other door and screamed horribly. The monster reached into the backseat while his two companions stood vigil. "No! Please!" Gilderoy cried out. Lockhart tried kicking away the claw that had a tight grasp on his ankle but the man's grip was unrelenting. The monster had ripped his lower pants leg to shreds and his skin was flayed repeatedly as the male's claws tightened his hold. Lockhart screamed in protest as he was pulled from the safety of his car. The beast slammed Lockhart against his car and held him by the nape of his neck.
The wind left his lungs and the man was wheezing for air as he tried to get his bearings. A whimper left his lips when he was faced with a pair of wild eyes of the dangerous animal. The author could not fight his grip, for the monster had superior strength. The creature snarled and Gilderoy saw up close large pointed teeth made for tearing flesh inches from him. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he stood there, waiting to be killed. He felt the sharp nails biting into skin, the unnatural icy breath of death fanning across his face. The two other males slowly encroached upon him, both poised for striking.
"How did you come across the child, Huntsman?" the Sire snarled.
"W-what?" Lockhart wheezed out. "I-I don't know what you're talking about." The Sire roared in displeasure and slammed Gilderoy back into his car. He hissed in pain as the side window crack on impact. "Please, please, please!" he cried "Don't kill me. I don't know anything, please! Just let me go, you can take the boy if you want him, but please let me go!"
"Answer me Huntsman! Where did you get the child?"
"I-I saw him, a-alone, in an alley, he lived there."
"Was he alone?" the scarred one asked levelly.
"I-I saw another boy with him, older. Th-they might've been related." the three looked amongst one another and traded knowing looks.
"Orphans." Sirius muttered "The Huntsmen must've wiped their entire coven back in The Slaughter." he spat in anger "Where were you taking the child, Huntsman?"
"I'm not a Huntsman!" Lockhart shouted back but choked for air as the Sire tightened his grasp around the man's neck. "P-please!" he choked out. "I...know nothing!"
"James." the scarred one laid a calming hand on his Sire. "He's telling the truth. The only weapon I found was a pocket knife underneath one of the seats."
"He could be hiding them, Remus. And that still doesn't answer my question. Where were you taking him?" James glared down the cowering author.
"...I have a cabin." Lockhart muttered reluctantly "It's not far from here."
At first the three males looked at one another in confusion but then slowly comprehension dawned on them. The Sire dropped Lockhart to the ground like he was riddled with disease and looked at him with disgust. "He's like the mutt Fenrir." James spat out the name like it was bile.
"We'll do the humans good ridding this one." Lockhart sobbed pathetically and Sirius scrunched his face as though he smelled something rotten.
"Remus, you spotted him first. He's yours to do with as you wish." James said evenly.
"P-please, don't kill me." Gilderoy wailed. "Just let me go! I-I promise I won't ever take another boy again, just, just please!" He didn't want to be in the presence of these monsters. "I just want to go home."
"Pathetic. Reminds me of Pettigrew, this one." Sirius muttered "Well Remus?"
The one named Remus pondered to himself while the other two males kept Lockhart in their sights. "James, your child's rite is tomorrow." he spoke slowly "What do you make of him?" he looked to his Sire.
James studied Lockhart up and down with the same predatory gaze from before. "He will do." he said finally. The others smiled in a way that was anything but comforting to the man. "Sirius, take the child back to the coven and have Dromeda look him over. Remus head over to the city and look for a boy with a similar scent. I'll deal with it." he rumbled.
"N-no, no! No please, I beg of you! You can just leave me here, I'll find my way back, you don't have to take me! I'm not a Huntsman! I won't tell anyone!" His pleas fell on deaf ears. Sirius had walked back, with a certain predatory gait, to the back of the car and lifted the unconscious boy with tenderness that Lockhart found unfitting with their species. Sirius tore off the ropes and removed the gag from the boy's mouth. The young boy whimpered pitifully in his drugged state and squirmed in the male's grasp. Sirius hushed the young child and pushed back the fringe of his hair with a fatherly gesture. Remus cautiously approached the sedated boy and took a quick whiff of the Dennis' curly brown hair and sent a curt nod to his companion. With one last withering glare in Lockhart's direction, Sirius' and Remus' forms were enshrouded in wispy shadows and the pair took off into the night sky.
That left Lockhart with the one named James. Lockhart whimpered and quickly pushed himself onto his feet. But before he could take even a step away from the predator, the back of his neck was locked in the creatures claws. Lockhart cried in pain and made chocking noises as he was lifted off his feet. He stared into the cold glowing hazel eyes of his captor and stared in horror as similar wispy shadows traveled up the creatures legs and took hold of Gilderoy's feet.
He gasped as the freezing shadows traveled up his form. The shadows were cold, so cold that it stung the nerves. He could do nothing as the shadows went up his chest. His peripheral went dark and his vision was filled with a pair of cold colored eyes belonging to a killer. He found it hard to breath as a weight settled over his chest as though someone was sitting on top of him. Lockhart whimpered as the icy tendrils traveled over his face until all he saw was black. He heard a distant roar, the thrust of feet leaving the ground, and the sound of wind in his ears before Gilderoy lost all consciousness.
Lockhart shot up from the stone cold floor with a scream of horror slipping past his lips. He scooted himself back until he reached a wall and hugged his knees to his chest. His back ached, and his neck felt sore from where the beast pinned him. No doubt there were bruises coloring his throat. Gilderoy had then felt the chill of metal cuffed tightly around his left ankle. He was shackled, the thick chain leading to the center of his prison cell. But Lockhart didn't know for sure as his eyes had yet to adjust to the lack of lighting.
It was pitch black and damp, the author couldn't make out where the door was. Unfortunately for Lockhart, none of what transpired was a nightmare. He was locked away in what he assumed to be a dungeon. Where he was, Lockhart did not have a clue. He knew he was underground and there was water. He heard it drip from the ceiling, felt it trickling down the walls, could smell the faint scent of mold. But that didn't help Gilderoy much. How long had he been kept prisoner? Did the public know he was missing?
He took a steadying breath and ran a hand over his soiled face and grabbed his hair by the roots. Lockhart could still feel the claws nipping on his neck, the chilling breath on his skin. His figure trembled at mental image of the eyes that glowed hauntingly through his being. He knew what those three males were, from the way they walked, the stinging cold of their skin, down to their mannerisms and the serration of their teeth. Gilderoy gulped heavily and winced at the sore throb in his throat. Vampires. He was captured by vampires.
Gilderoy broke down in tears and wept into his hands. He couldn't believe the position he was in. Hours ago, he was blissfully ignorant of the monstrous horrors that hid in the shadows. He carried on with his life with ease. Lockhart was a rich, famous author that had gotten whatever he wanted. He should be carrying on, enjoying his life. Not trapped here, chained in a dungeon housed by demons. Lockhart should be enjoying the fruits of his own personal hunt. By this time Lockhart figured he would had had a few rounds with his boy. How he wished he was in the safety of his cabin enjoying the company of his precious toy.
What had he done to deserve this particular prison? It was unfair, unjust! He did not deserve to be in the type of situation he was! Didn't the mongrels know who he was? How famous and cherished he was to the fairing public? Lockhart ignored the small voice in his head that told him that he may have deserved it. All the atrocities Lockhart had committed and gotten away with over the years. If he only ignored his primal urges he wouldn't be chained up in an unknown location at the mercy of demon. No, it was not at all his fault. He had complete control, it was the vampires that were feral and hellish beasts. He had to get out of here. The people had to be warn of these demons that preyed upon humans. Lockhart remembered them mentioning a group known as the Huntsmen; professional vampire slayers. The author reminded himself to make a large donation to their cause once he was free...if he could escape.
Hours ticked by in slow agony. By which time Lockhart had reluctantly given up. He spent the entirety of the day, assuming it was daytime, crawling along the stone walls. At one point he found a large bowl of water and Gilderoy gulped it down greedily to quench his thirst and ease his aching throat. For food, all that he had was a half loaf of bread. It was a meager meal, but it would suffice for the time being.
His eyes had since adjusted to the darkness and he could make out the details of the room. It really was a jail cell, a six by eight square foot room. There was a metal door with a barred flap where the dark corridor just laid. He found a flimsy torn mattress in one corner and a hole in the stone floor in the other. Lockhart shuddered, he supposed it was where the excrements went. He wondered if there were other people trapped in the dungeons. The author thought of calling out but quickly discarded that notion as unwise. He rather not alert the vampires that he was now awake.
Gilderoy hated the predicament he was in. It was petrifying being trapped in a dungeon, waiting for what would surely be his death. Each minute that ticked by Lockhart felt he was closer to his impending fate. His heartbeats were numbered, his breaths were limited. This wasn't how Lockhart imagined he would die, he didn't think the very blood that pumped through his veins would be sucked dry by vampires. He didn't want to be eaten!
Another hour had gone by when Lockhart heard a faint noise. He picked his head up from his knees and he held his breath. A few minutes went by until Lockhart relaxed and was able to breathe. It was only his imagi- he heard it again! This time followed by a pair of faint footsteps echoing down the corridors. Another set of steps followed the first pair. Lockhart's lower lip trembled and his eyes became wet. The footsteps grew louder and louder with each passing second. Lockhart hoped desperately that there was another person in the dungeons that they were far more interested in.
The footfalls came to a halt in front of his cell door. Lockhart's heart was thundering madly. Could the beings hear his rapid heartbeat, smell the sweat on his brow? He gripped tightly to the stone wall pushed himself up to his feet. He heard a set of keys jingle outside his prison cell, the lock clicked and followed by the sound a groaning metal door opening slowly. Gilderoy sniveled and trembled at the two beings before him. He couldn't see much of their faces, only that one had a pair of glowing brown eyes and the other a pair of glowing gray ones.
"What a sight." the gray-eyed scoffed
"He doesn't look like much." the other agreed. "But I bet he'll put up a fight to survive."
"P-please, j-just let me go. I-I don't want to die!" Lockhart quickly wailed
The gray eyed one huffed impatiently then charged into the cell and hauled Lockhart up by his arm. Gilderoy squealed in fright as he was dragged out of his cell. "No! No!" he shrieked "I don't want die! I don't want to die!" the brown eyed vampire growled horribly in Lockhart's ear. His wails and pleas were reduced to whimpers as the two males dragged by his arms down the corridor and up a stone staircase.
Dim lighting from old gas lamps greeted Lockhart in a new corridor. The temperature was warmer than it was in the dungeons but still cool, which suggested that they were still underground. Lockhart recognized the two vampires as the one that took part in his abduction last night. That meant the third one was nearby somewhere; he shuddered.
The trio silently walked, dragged in Gilderoy's case, down the bare corridor. Occasionally Lockhart would whimper and would try to bargain his freedom but he was met with simultaneous growls. They had no interest in his money, car, or the deed to a well lavished penthouse. He couldn't even entice them with promising meals of an entire building full of healthy groomed men and women. They glared at him in disgust when he offered other people in his place.
Their walk came to an end at a gray stone wall. The black haired one, Sirius he remembered, dropped Lockhart's arm and pushed one of the stone bricks further into the wall. A low rumbling sound erupted and the wall slowly slid to the right. A large indoor courtyard greeted Lockhart. It appeared to be letter lit than the dim corridor he was in. Without preamble, Lockhart was shoved out of the corridor and onto the stone floor. He choked back a moan of despair and looked over his shoulder to see matching twin smirks on the creatures before the stone wall rumbled back into place.
Lockhart gulped and looked around his surroundings. His eyes widen when he spotted dried dark brown spots about the floor; blood. The courtyard was rectangular with high walls that made escaping impossible for any human trapped. A large candelabra chandelier hung in the center of the high roof. He gasped in terror, there appeared to be roughly twenty other beings standing against the stone railing. The youngest looked to be in their preteens and the oldest in their thirties or forties. Vampires. They were all vampires. The demons didn't move a muscle, didn't so much as blink, made no noise whatsoever. The adults were studying his every movement, while the children gawked at him as though he was part of the zoo exhibit. Could they smell his fear, could they hear his heart drum against his ribcage?
There were a plethora of red heads in the mix, majority of them male, and Lockhart figured they were all biologically related. There were two with dirty blonde hair, a beautiful woman and her preteen daughter. There was another family where the male was tall with a stocky build with light hair. His arms were wrapped protectively around the waist of two women. Lockhart did a double-take as one had bubblegum pink hair. The other woman had features that was most common in aristocrats with light brown hair and dark eyes. He flinched at the look of utter loathing from the vampiress. Was she made aware of his certain tastes in flesh, did all of them know? His eyes quickly moved onto the next pair of, a woman and a young girl. Neither looked alike, one had a lot of bushy brown hair, and brown eyes, the woman had wavy brown hair and blue eyes. Finally Lockhart's eyes rested on a woman with dark red hair and bright green eyes. Gilderoy knew by the way the vampiress carried herself that she was a high member of the coven. He didn't see his little boy amongst them and Lockhart figured he was someplace else.
The two males from earlier had then walked up to the railing and went to their respective mates. Sirius went to the woman with the dirty blonde hair and the other male went to the woman with the wavy brown hair. All were present but one. The vampire with the cold hazel eyes and wild black hair was missing; the author forgotten his name. And that made Lockhart tremble in his skin.
The rumbling of stone on stone was one of the worse sounds Lockhart had ever heard. He knew what laid behind the false wall. Slowly but surely, Lockhart backed himself to the opposing wall and braced himself. There was no escape, he was trapped. The author could only hope that his death would be quick and painless. His breath was stuttering as the wall finally slid to a full open. There stood the wild haired vampire, just as imposing as before. Next to him was a boy who's height was up to the man's chest. Without a doubt, Gilderoy knew the young boy was the son to the feral vampire. The boy had the same type of hair as his father, he looked nearly identical only with a younger face. The only difference between the two, other than their height and age, was their eyes. The younger vampire had the same shade of green eyes as the female up above with the others.
The boy looked up to his father uncertainly and whispered something that Gilderoy couldn't catch. The male, James he finally remembered, smiled knowingly and whispered something back; probably encouraging the boy. To Lockhart's astonishment the boy was gently pushed into the courtyard and the stone wall closed behind the child. He and the boy stared at one another in tense silence. The boy looked to be in his early teenage years, fourteen at the latest.
What was going on, was this boy suppose to kill him? The boy didn't look much, he looked even short for his age! Lockhart felt something akin to hope rise in his chest. But was crushed just as quickly with the look the boy was giving him. The eyes that watched his every muscle twitch, every breath taken. They lacked the warmth that was usually found in children. Cold, calculating, keen, eyes of a true predator. Eyes that promised Gilderoy pain and suffering. Lockhart gave a shuddered breath and furiously wiped the clammy sweat from his face. "W-what is this?" he stuttered.
"This Lockhart," the coven leader spoke from the floor above "is a rite of passage for my son, Harry." he stated proudly "Every vampire, once they hit the age of thirteen, is given a fresh human who's soul has been tainted, to make their first kill."
"There's no such thing!" Lockhart responded automatically. "I don't have a soul! And if I did, it's certainly not tainted!"
"Every human has a soul, Lockhart." the Sire responded "And every soul is read by my kind. Centuries we have watched humans from the shadows using the gifts we were born with to our full advantage. Your Creator,." James snarled "cursed us. We cannot harm a pure soul or one that shows redemption." the Sire chuckled "Luckily humans are as addicted to sin as vampires to blood. Lockhart swallowed nervously. He feverishly kept telling himself that all of this wasn't real, he would wake up any moment and that souls were nothing more than a figment of primitive man's imagination. It was them that were unnatural, they that were abnormal, and they that were condemned by the religious and their "Creator(s)". The creature was talking nonsense, and had no idea what it was talking about. Lockhart was an innocent man, he was not in the wrong, they were. Yet the gnawing guilt festering deep in his stomach wouldn't leave.
The pale demons that abducted him were in the wrong. They were the ones that stalked him like ravenous wolves. The creatures were an abomination of nature, nothing more than cannibalistic humans that prayed to an imaginative satanic deity. The creatures ridiculously thought of themselves as man's saviors when it was really the Huntsmen that hunted them down that were the true saviors to mankind.
Of course his personal beliefs didn't matter at the present moment. Standing only feet away from Lockhart was the means to his death; a pale, beautiful, demonic boy with unforgettable green eyes. Lockhart's lower belly twisted in arousal, yet his heart thundered away in utter fear of the young cannibal. He looked at the author so...hungrily. Regardless of his misgivings with the vampires, Lockhart did not want to die, he wanted to live. And he would do anything to leave the ghoulish manor alive. "Don't kill me. I'm begging you please!" Lockhart pleaded for a final time. "I-I can be your slave, I can lure people to your home, just please spare me!"
"They always grovel, don't they?" a male with long ginger hair asked. The others chuckled at Lockhart's plight and the last of Gilderoy's hope shattered to pieces. He wasn't leaving the manor alive.
The vampires reverted back into eerie silence. Lockhart turned his attention back to the boy that stood away from him. The boy rolled his shoulders and set his feet shoulder width apart. Lockhart meekly raised his fist to chin level, he ignored some of the titters from various vampires. If Gilderoy was going to die, he was going to kill the little demon.
Harry crouched in a pouncing position and growled in a way that sounded too much like a feral animal. Without warning, the vampire rushed forward. Lockhart threw a punch and cried out in pain. He held his injured and bloody hand and stared at it in horror. The boy was back in his previous spot. The vampire's lower face was covered in blood, his blood. The black haired demon licked his lips curiously, then stared at Lockhart with rapt hunger. His green eyes slowly turned to pitch black, his canines lengthened to fine points and the boy entered into his first feeding frenzy.
With a high-pitch screech, he literally flew across the courtyard and Lockhart kicked him in the face. Harry rolled on the floor and landed on all fours crouched. The boy hissed angrily and lunged forward. Lockhart made to kick vampire in the face again but the boy grabbed him by his foot and tossed him to the other side of the courtyard. Gilderoy landed hard on his back and had no chance of recovery as the vampire jumped on his chest and started clawing at his face. Lockhart screamed in pain and rage and punched wildly at Harry, holding the boy at arm's length away from his neck. His vision was turning red as blood gushed over his brow. With a well placed punch to the face Harry was pushed off the hysterical man.
Lockhart tried pulling himself up on the stone wall he was next to but the demon grabbed hold of his ankle and tugged until something snapped. The man screamed in pure agony and terror as he was dragged to the center of the courtyard. The demon from hell had the strength of any man. He tried kicking the boy in the face again, but Harry grabbed the swinging leg with both hands and chomped down on Lockhart's ankle repeatedly. Crushing bone and tearing flesh did the vampire begin to suck the blood from the garish wound. Lockhart's voice was hoarse from screaming. With as much strength Gilderoy could muster, he swung his bad leg at the creature but the being jumped back with agility and grace unheard of in a thirteen year old.
The man dragged himself backwards leaving a trail of blood in his wake. He was delirious at this point. The room was begging to spin and he was fighting both blood loss and consciousness. He saw the blurry image of a boy covered head to toe in blood running at him. Then he felt wind knock out of him as something crushed his chest before he felt searing pain at the side of his neck. Tears mixed with blood flowed down his grimy face. He couldn't cry in suffering, he was choking on his own blood. He could feel the thick fluid flowing down into his lungs. His stomach churned as he heard the demon suck on his neck with relish.
Gilderoy could feel his strength slowly leave him. His limbs had grown heavy, but his heart was still beating rapidly. Lockhart could feel his body thrash uncontrollably as he laid on the floor, dying. He gathered the last of his strength in his left harm and grabbed a fistful of black hair and yanked, hard. The demon hissed in pain and quickly scuttled off the fatally wounded man. Lockhart turned on his stomach and coughed up a mouthfuls of saliva and blood. He tried dragging himself to the nearest wall wanting to get as far away as he could from the demon child.
He barely crawled half a foot when he heard the high pitch screech of the wild animal. Was it an animal? Lockhart looked over his shoulder and saw in hazy vision, in mid jump, mouth agape and hands extended like claws, the spawn of Satan. It was in slow motion that the demon descended on the prone figure that was Lockhart. His knees dug into Gilderoy's kidneys. The author grunted and wheezed liking a dying animal as Harry raked his nails down his back, losing more blood from his weakened body. He finally managed a gurgled scream when the young vampire ripped a chunk of his flesh from his shoulder. His body was in a spasm and he felt sharp teeth on the unmark side of his neck. It sliced through his flesh like knife through butter. At this point Lockhart almost felt immune to the pain. His vision darkened, and his hearing tunneled until he could only hear his heartbeat thundering in his ear drums and the suckling noises of his killer.
He wheezed out his final breaths. Lockhart knew he was dead, his energy had finally left him. He could not push the boy off him another time. He failed, he didn't he even cause lasting damage to the boy. The world grew dimmer, the noises were muted until all he could hear was his dying heartbeat and the sound of suckling. Gilderoy Lockhart was mere seconds from death. As he laid there, life fading from his eyes, underneath the rapacious preteen, he couldn't help but notice a peculiar smell of brimstone grow stronger.