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Place your ad here for only $15.00! Reach thousands of writers and visitors! CLICK HERE
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 First off I am now 18 years old. I am a newer writer and I have made a short story and am in the middle of a book I am writing. It's been quite some time since my last project, but I hope to be working on more projects!
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MY ACCOMPLISHMENTS:
- Many short stories, most unsaved though.
- Writing fan fictions of games, movies and animes.
- High score on AIMS writing test and 2 year writer for school newspaper.
- Making a large book that hopes to expand to another book.
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MY NEWS:
I have started a new job, which keeps me from writing more, but I would be willing to take time from work to write.
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MY RESIDENCE INFO:
City: Phoenix
State/Country: Arizona USA
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BOOKS PUBLISHED:
Prologue-
The moon was bright against the tall castle walls. A dark, ominous shape leapt down from a pointed tower rooftop and swooped silently to the east towards its dark domain.
A few seconds later a young man burst from the castle doors and ran to the stables. He leapt to his mount, Xerion, and charged after the evil figure that had intruded on his home. He dreaded his destination. Vander, the disgraced castle, that’s where the legend would lead him.
Chapter 1-
He replayed it in his mind as he raced through the night. “900 years ago there was a well to do family named Vander.” The Princes pace slowed as Castle Vander loomed into view. The image sent chills down his spine but he held steady. He recalled more of the legend as he continued.
“Lord Vander was a tall man and at 67 was considered very old. His elderly wife, Ellen, whom he loved dearly, was never able to produce children. So, in order to secure the family name, they adopted three sons. The oldest and heir, Jean, was a fine swordsman who enjoyed hunting and horsemanship with his father. The second son, Klaus, was the scholarly type who rarely did strenuous activities. He could usually be found with his face buried in a book or chanting incantations somewhere. Charo, the youngest and his father’s favorite, could usually be found flirting with the chamber maids and when his father died, he took it the hardest. Tragically, Lord Vander’s death had not been from natural causes. He was found murdered with his throat ripped out and every last drop of blood drained from his body. A few days later the rest of the family was found similarly slain, only their bodies were completely torn apart as well.”
Finally the young man reached the castle. As he drew closer he noticed several dismembered and mangled corpses hanging from spikes that slanted out from the wall on either side of the gate. He shivered as he dismounted from his horse thinking of the evil that waited within. Slowly he stepped forward and peered through the gate into the courtyard. What he saw made his stomach turn. There was blood everywhere and rotting corpses were lying in tangled heaps. The sickly smell of decay was overwhelming. The gate itself was firmly closed yet somehow he had to get inside.
As if in answer to his thoughts it slowly began to creak upwards. Debris rained down from the rusted metal as it lurched and shook. It obviously hadn’t been used in years. Once it was far enough up the Prince walked under the archway and stepped into the courtyard. He cautiously searched the area for traps. Finding nothing but death he moved on into the ruined castle. He wandered from room to room searching for any sign of the dark intruder. As he went down a winding narrow hall he began to wonder if he was lost when suddenly he came upon a set of disintegrating double doors with a shield inlaid into the center. The enormous doors stood over nine feet tall and filled the end of the hallway from floor to ceiling.
“The Vander Family Crest,” he sneered in disgust. He kicked them open and stormed into the room as they slammed against the wall. “Where are you Vander?!!” The echo of his scream was the only reply as he walked into what once must have been a vast library. To his left a fire was burning in a huge marble fireplace, to the right a stairwell spiraled upward and ahead at the far end of the room, a massive wooden throne carved with images of death. As he walked forward the sound of his steps reverberated off the stone walls and bones and bits of refuse crunched under his boots as he made his way over to the fireplace.
“I feel the warmth of living flesh in my halls. Many mortals such as you have entered here and died. What brings you to me, little one?” a cold voice challenged from the dark. “Silence Demon! How dare you mock me.” the Prince yelled belligerently.
“I do not fear you.” There was a long pause and then a burst of maniacal laughter.
“You amuse me mortal with your pitiful protests. I existed long before your house was even a dream yet you have the gall to speak to me as if we were equals. You are nothing to me but insolent cattle.”
“Enough!” the Prince raged. “You hide in the shadows like a coward. Your filthy kind makes me sick. I spit on your name.” The voice bellowed back.
“NO! It is your kind that is filthy; you contaminate the world with your very existence –.”
“I will talk no more.” the Prince interrupted. “Face me you lifeless corpse and draw your demonic weapons!”
FOOOM! In the blink of an eye the creature appeared out of nowhere. His flesh was deathly pale and his lips formed into a cruel twisted smile that showed his incredibly long fangs. SHING! The Prince drew his sword, the light from the fire glinting from the blade. “You cannot begin to understand what you are about to lose.” the vampire rasped.
“SHUT UP!!” the Prince screamed as he slashed his blade upward, cutting diagonally across his opponent’s chest. The pale rubbery flesh split open, spraying a fountain of blood into the air.
“Hmmm, you do have some skill after all, but…”
“What??” the Prince stammered as he stared in disbelief as he watched the vampires wound fuse back together seamlessly.
“Like I said,” the creature snarled menacingly. “You have not yet begun to understand…”
Before the mind could comprehend, he disappeared and reappeared directly behind the Prince. It happened so fast he didn’t have time to react. The vampire grabbed him around the chest, locking his arms to his sides and then sank his fangs into his neck. “You…Bastard.” chocked the Prince. His sword clattered loudly to the floor. He felt his life rapidly draining out and his vision began to blur. The vampire released him and allowed his limp body to slump to the floor. “A wound such as yours will almost certainly kill you.” That was the last thing the Prince heard before losing consciousness.
The Prince groggily opened his eyes, then suddenly recalling the events of the night, leapt to his feet and immediately collapsed to the floor. He lay there on his back wondering what had happened to him. The last thing he remembered was passing out. It was very cold. He turned his head to look around the room. From his vantage point it appeared luxurious. There were tapestries on the walls and a thick rug on the floor. The furniture also looked as if it were very expensive. His stomach growled. “Damn, I’m starving.” His hunger confused him, he desperately craved something but he couldn’t figure out what. He glanced around again, noting every detail as though his vision were magnified threefold.
His examination of the wood grain on the table leg ended when he suddenly noticed an increasingly sharp, stabbing pain in his back.
“Oh, shit!”
He felt a searing pain and a grinding sound as if the bones of his back were being torn from his body. He rolled to his side and sat up. The pain increased dramatically as two large bulges formed over his shoulder blades. He screamed as his flesh began to tear, blood pouring down his back and soaking into the expensive carpet. Two black pointed knobs began to swell from his under his shirt. Within seconds they had grown to over 5 feet long, shredding through the back of his bloody shirt. Slowly a huge pair of leathery wings began to unfurl, each rib an inch in circumference. Completely extended they spanned over 20 feet.
“NOOOOO!! What’s happening to me?” he said, staring in disbelief. He put his head in his hands, sobbing
“This can’t be real, this can’t be real, THIS CAN’T BE REAL!”
“Oh, but it is, Xero” said a familiar voice behind him. He whirled around, his bloody wings crashing into the walls.
“You! What have you done to me!?” screamed the Prince.
“Come now, surely your new senses have already provided you with the answer. I’ve only given you the opportunity to reach your full potential.” he replied quietly.
“FUCK YOU!!” bellowed the Prince. Rage swelled within him, unholy strength coursing through his body. Instinctively he bared his new formed fangs menacingly.
“You have no choice, accept your destiny or die, it is that simple.” stated the vampire.
“Then I choose death, you putrid bastard.” he shrieked as he launched himself at the vampire. Just as he was about to tear his throat out, he felt the cold, sickening, sensation of a blade plunging through his neck. Shock and fury engulfed his brain as he crashed to the ground smashing the antique furniture into small fragments. As he lay in a heap on the floor, he glared at his creator defiantly. The blood surged profusely from the wound in his neck. As his lifeblood poured out his vision blurred and he faded into blackness.
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