Early Sunsets Over NJ.

Prologue

Ok, for a start, I'm really bad at writing, and I'm even worse at splitting stories into chapters. Any tips would be very much appreciated 😋

Also is if this would be called and epilogue or smth, but this is the introduction, enjoy!

AND WARNING FOR GORE AND SUICIDE. THIS IS A STORY ABOUT VAMPIRES; LOTS OF BLOOD!!! ‼️‼️‼️

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Two beliefs collide when one won't accept the other.

Back when people indulged in barrels of ale and prayed away sickness, a selfish man named Josiah took power over all. He ruled with an iron fist for the Holy Trinity and forbade all that he saw wrong. At this time, Lucile had the kingdom in the palm of his nurturing hand. Though beautiful and delicate in nature, Josiah saw an evil, sinful, manipulative man.

Josiah's scriptures told his Highness and taught the kingdom that no such monster should be right to spread it's disease to the people, the children, the future. Lucile was banished, forbidden to live in his home, to care for his neighbors, to never see the sunlight again and to only live by preying on the innocent. Josiah had taken away any and all of his right to be the loving and lovable man that he once was.

It was painful, ofcourse, losing your loved ones always is. But the physical pain was almost worse. While lost amidst creaking trees over the course of 3 days, his tired body began to change. His head pounded like his brain was thrashing against it's bone cage with every step, every heaving breath. His eyes were bloodshot and he was hungry. Starving. Thirsty. It was a craving he couldn't quite place, until he grew desperate for food and hunted down an innocent rabbit with his gentle, hands.

He felt ashamed as he drained it of it's fluids. The poor creature was just like himself, or his friends, his neighbors, his lover; for it breathed. But it no longer was alive as he fed on it.

Fed... he had been suckling at the small animal's throat a long thirty seconds, completely zoned out, lost in his own clouded mind. Why was he drinking the limp creatures blood? Was he going insane?

Even the light of day had began to cause immense pain, his skin would crackle and turn raw red when the sun shone through the leaves above him. He had to hide under the cover of the denser areas of the woods to avoid bursting into flames.

The pain and confusion continued for days. His teeth would sharpen and tear through his gums when his stomach groaned, like daggers waiting to plunge into an enemy. Only, it was never an enemy, it was always innocence that he killed.

After the fifth day, he found himself stepping barefoot and tattered onto the edge of a small village. There were only around 8 small, well-loved wooden huts, but there were people, and that meant food.

No.

That meant safety. He would feed on animals. He himself was becoming as selfish as the one who had burdened him with this pain, these unhuman problems.

An old grey lady found Lucile stood shivering by the trees in the soft blue glow of the cool evening sky, after the sun had set enough for him to emerge from the twisting branches. The lady had a kind face, the kind that you would trust to take care of something you loved dearly, like a journal, or a child. She took Lucile with a kind hand to her hut, where she apparently lived with her daughter, Alexandria.

The hut was homey inside, illuminated by the soft, warm glow of rusted oil lamps.

Lucile had moved in with The lady and her daughter, who had never once seen Josiah in their lonesome lives; they had been living in the small, remote village for as long as they could remember.