** Could an undying love blossom in the ruins of a shattered world? **
And so the world of men was lost
and a new one, our world,
was born.
- Morrígan
Goddess of the Battle
of the Túatha Dé Danann -
4th cycle anno Bellum.
The Second World War...
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For a heartbeat, Zane's blood froze in his veins.
The unsteady, limping steps stopped as every muscle in his wiry body tensed to the breaking point. Slowly, almost as if in slow motion, his gaze turned away from the humans in their worn uniforms and coats and focussed on the disgustingly grinning face of the vampire scion.
Something cracked inside him. The dam of his restraint creaked dangerously with each of the quick, shallow breaths that filled his lungs. The physical pain mingled with the mental pain of the loss he had suffered. His fingers twitched on the sides of his body, and beneath the dark cloak, his shoulders began to shake like the earth just before a volcanic eruption.
>>Badumm<<
The heartbeat thundered in his ears like timpani beats on mighty war drums.
MURDERER!
>>Badumm, Badumm, Badumm!
A roar tore from his throat. But it became a furious growl as his bones cracked and knit themselves back together instantly. Tanned skin gave way to snow-white fur. The wide black cloak fell to the grass and was left behind like a warrior fallen into the night as the predator leaped out from behind Myra.
Zane exploded like a powder keg. His vision blurred in a blood-red mist that cleared all his senses and mercilessly blotted out everything else except for one thought: REVENGE!
"FILTHY BASTARD!"
His sharp claws tore out small tufts of grass as he shot through the night like a lightning bolt. He had only one target: Casimir, the filthy, stinking, undead rat! The wretched traitor! Despicable snake and disgraceful murderer!
The large paws drummed on the ground. The adrenalin and the rage suppressed the pain in his body. He bridged the distance between himself and the filthy revenant with breakneck speed.
Only a stone's throw separated him from Casimir when the latter recognized the impending danger - and frantically tried to put distance between himself and the raging cat.
Zane's lips twitched, already baring the bloodthirsty daggers of his fangs. Then, the click of a bolt rang out in the night.
