Thursday, November 21, 2013

The Nosferatu Adventures S3 p27

The Nosferatu Adventures
page 86, chapter 86

Dagan entered the old witch's cabin to find it empty. No fire in the fireplace, no heat, no Nosferatu. Mumbling to himself, he pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down, water dripping off him from the rain. He was loosing control of the pack, and he knew why. Ever since the female had arrived, things had been bad. He hated feeling like this, feeling anything. For years, Dagan had managed to keep a comfortable distance from everyone and everything.  Slamming back in the chair, he ran his hands over his face.


The book appeared on the small coffin beside the Seer. He said nothing as he opened it to the proper page, tracing the symbols for the ritual in the dust of the crypt. Silently, he recited the ritual, slicing his hand in order to get the werewolf blood needed. He then turned to our heroine nodding to her. "You ready?"


Dagan's breath caught in his throat as a stabbing pain spread through his chest. He instinctively thought he was having a heart attack, then remembered he was immortal, he couldn't. But none the less, he found himself clutching at his chest, falling out of the chair face first onto the floor. Something was wrong, horribly wrong. He began to shift into his wolf form, unable to do anything but ride out the pain as it seemed to burn him from the inside out. He screamed, arching his back as he lay on the floor on his stomach, his claws digging into the floor, his throat filling up with first foam then blood. Then everything went black.


The scream ripped from our heroine's throat as she opened her eyes. The pure white of the banshee all the Seer could detect in the darkness of the crypt. He himself had not taken into account that her pitch would cause his own delicate werewolf ears to bleed. He found himself fighting through the ringing that was happening, pounding in his brain, could taste the blood as it streamed from his own nose into his mouth. Then, the wind began to pick up around them. The wall behind the female opened up, like a black pit, sucking them towards it for a few seconds before stopping. The air pressure righting itself and the pain stopping. Quickly, he grabbed his spell book and her bag in one hand, while locking his other hand with hers, pushing them both through the portal.

Opening her eyes, our heroine heard the chirping of birds, saw them flying from one of the higher branches of the nearest tree, saw the setting sun over the tops of them. Turning, she spotted the Seer as he rolled over on the ground beside her, leaves and mud clinging to him.

"Are we there yet? How's my hair? Is it really as wind blown as it feels?"

"Well, we're somewhere. Foresty." she replied as she  got to her feet, reaching for her bag. Helping the Seer up, she asked him if he wanted her to add the spell book to the contents of her leather bag.

"Got it covered." he answered smiling at her as he waved his hand, a bubble appearing. Within it, a perfect replica of her leather bag. Tossing the bubble into the air, he blew on it, and the leather bag was released from it, landing at his feet. "Something I learned from this goblin I seduced once."

The pair walked about a half hour before the Seer stopped. He turned towards a small pond his jaw squared as his shook his head.  "This place look familiar to you?" he asked bringing both hands up then slapping back on his thighs.

"Yeah. Actually it does. It looks like the pond not far from Ash's cabin. But that's impossible unless your ritual didn't work?" our heroine said dropping her bag and sitting down on a large rock.

"Oh it worked." he moved farther towards the water line, turning one direction then the other. "I think."  the male then crouched on his heels, his nose in the air, eyes closed as he felt a strange shiver start to creep up his spine. Taking a deep breath, he caught the scent of someone, someone familiar to him. Standing with lightening speed he took off in the direction that the scent was emanating from.
The werewolf stopped when a voice began to tickle at his ears. He spoke to Nosferatu with telepathy telling her where he was, and that she needed to see what he was seeing.

Silently, the female made her way through the thick trees and over the rough path. A gasp was spotted short in her throat as a very strong pale hand covered her mouth. The Seer then held his fingers to his own lips, letting her know to be silent as they watched the figure sitting at the edge of the clearing, hovering over a campfire.

He was only about 19 years old, but there was no mistaking the short, dark haired male. It was Harker. Our heroine felt herself go weak as she watched the young man boiling water in a small pot, his hair falling into his eyes as he did. Her stomach nearly jumped out of her when the sound of footsteps about thirty feet away grabbed her attention.
Turning to the left of them, she spotted Dagan coming towards the camp, two large fish in one hand and what looked like a bottle in the other.

The portal hadn't taken them someplace else, but somewhere else. Into the past.

Breaking away from the Seer, our heroine ran back into the forest on very shaky legs. 

Hearing something in the distance, Dagan told his brother to be still as he began to check it out. Slowly he placed one sneakered foot over the other, the cuffs of his dark jeans dragging in the mud as he did. He stopped cold, feeling like someone had punched him in the chest nearly knocking him over. His ears began to ring, his heart beating double time, his brain swimming. Hearing his younger brother calling him, the male hesitated before turning back.

But something off in the rapidly darkening forest caught his eye. The male could have sworn it had been a female. Something in him wanted to go to her, to call out to her. Only he had no idea why?

tune in again for another installment of the Nosferatu Adventures starring your (straight up story.  Talk about a blast from the past eh?)

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