Prologue

Prologue

The taxi cab stopped right in front of the dark building and twenty year Old Chaz stepped out, entering the building. It was a club. People all around him were pale faced, dressed in black, wearing skimpy clothing that would attract the opposite sex. Chaz just looked at them in disgust. Degenerates, he thought. Chaz had one thing in mind; the back of the club. The boss had told him that the room in the back, down in the basement, was where Chaz should meet him, and he always listened to the boss. Bad things came to those who didn't listen, as Chaz knew very well. So he knew that he had to listen or else he would be let off the team, or worse, perhaps even killed.

The music was loud. Chaz passed a couple of women who tried to seduce him, and he passed the bartender who kept trying to bribe him with a drink. Thing was, Chaz didn't drink. His father had been a drunk all those years ago, so he detested alcohol as much as he could. He hated seeing people screw their lives up with alcohol when he was at clubs and such, but there was nothing he could really do about it�"those people would do what they wanted, no matter what Chaz said.

He saw a door that the end of the hall with a EXIT sign on top of it, so Chaz went toward that, pushed the door open, and entered into another, darker room. As soon as the door slammed shut behind him, the room he was in was plunged in silence so it didn't even seem like he had just been in a club. He saw the staircase at the far end of the wall, walked toward it, and made his trek downward, the only sounds that echoed off the walls being his footsteps against the cold, cement floor. Chaz reached the bottom of the staircase, a small lightbulb emanating through the room. At the end of the room, sitting at a coffee table, Chaz saw a man sitting there, legs crossed under the table. A couple of bulky guys armed with machine guns came forward and patted down Chaz, to make sure he had no weapons, which, fortunately, he didn't.

Took you long enough,” said a cold voice.

“I'm sorry. I was just a little late.”

“Yeah sure. Now what was our order of business? Ah yes, the Pact of the Blood Rite,” the cold voice said.

“Yes. The puzzle pieces are coming together, and soon the pact will be broken,” Chaz said.

“Marvelous,” said the cold voice. Chaz couldn't see the figures face, but he figured that the figure would be smiling. “I have been waiting fifty years for this to come to pass.”

“What shall happen when the pact has broken?”

"Vampires and humans will continue to fight, and we will kill and dominate,” The cold voice said, “and we will reign among the earth.”

“Yes,” said Chaz. “When will this come to pass?”

“Soon, very soon,” the cold voice said. “That truce signed between humans and vampires was a farse, something that should never have happened. It will be our chance to undo it. Vlad, get in here.” A pale figure named Vlad entered the room, clutching a curved blade in his hand. “Kill this man,” the cold voice hissed, gesturing toward Chaz. “He was ten minutes late. He already knows too much about us, I wouldn't want him spreading rumors about this to the other humans.” Vlad flitted forward with the knife and before Chaz had a chance to twist around and race up the stairs, the knife bit into his throat and blood splashed across the cold cement of the floor. The body of Chaz crumpled to the ground.