Victoria Cross 1: Blood Night

Chapter One-Victoria Cross-Blood Night-(2)

The girl, Margaret Sanders, was holding the wicker basket in her small, right hand. Mist Gate, a fearsome, bloody, place of horror, was ominous in the wicked, black sky. The Village of Vampires seared the fabric of time; time was not going to shake the foundation of what dwelled there; Mist Gate was built in 1666, the Year of Doomsday. There was no clock that foretold death; Doomsday came in the form of vampires from Romania. They immigrated to London, England, from Europe; they were death itself---not only did they fed on human blood to warm themselves. But, over the centuries, the screams of the dead was heard in the ancient village, where the villagers closed the barred windows, and parents forbade their sons and daughters to go to school. Night time was worse, not in the morning, not in the afternoon. But from six o'clock to Midnight, the shadows came towards the wrought-iron gates; the blood of wolves was shed on the iron bars, as a sacrifice to the vampires insatiable lust for feeding on the living. 

Margaret waited. 

She had long, brown hair, blue eyes, and petite. 

Her dress was long, and covered up as a young lady did wear. Like her mother, Beth Sanders, a lady of means. Margaret copied her mother, and did as she was told. Some days she went to school; some days she went to the market to buy fresh fruit, and meat for her family. The Village was sinister at night; the sun rose by dawn, as the children didn't talk, for fear of her father's grave in the cold cemetery. 

It was three years' since she cried at his funeral.

And the dark was not far ahead of her.

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