Phantasm *In Progress*

Prologue

A/N: This is a five year old story and is currently being updated! So stay tuned! 

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Downtown Vancouver, a bustling city lining the coast of British Columbia. When nighttime comes, the streets swarm with city folk searching for a good time. Homeless scatter the dark ebony alleyways and illegal hunter gangs scope out nightclubs aiming to recruit members. One club in particular, The Grind, glows bright pink among the dark city lights. A tall brown-haired man stands bold scratching his five o'clock shadow. He's accompanied by three others, all carry a nasty aura.

"Well? What the fuck are we waiting for?" One friend asks, taking a step forward.

"David ain't coming, it's just the four of us." His eyes roll towards the main man. "Can we go in now Mike? I'm starving, and I know some hottie is waiting for me."

Mike laughs at him. "You couldn't seduce a stripper if she was a dime n' hour." The group laughs entering the building with their heads held high. The Grind is indeed popular, crowded with both men and women lustful for some well-deserved spirits. Music pulsates through the floor and each man feels the beat pound up the soles of their feet. Bantering back and forth, they sit at the bar leaning against the marble counter. The bartender brings them a round of beers, continuing to ramble off cheap jokes.

Unbeknownst to Mike and his pack, a shadow lingers along the road, a cold breeze blows battering the front window.

11:30 pm, well into the night, the men separate once to dance with pretty women and use the washroom. Coming back to the bartender he cuts them off in a haste, hinting that it's time to leave.

"Whatever, there's an Mc. Ronald's a few blocks away." Mike slurs his words. "I want some hot fresh fuckin nugs." Stumbling out of the bar, they wander into Vancouver's city center. The shadow follows, a hunger growing in its gut, never letting its eyes wander from the group.

It takes twenty minutes to reach the golden arches. "Haven't had this much fun in a while!" Mike says picking himself off the wall, he takes a huge bite from his burger. "-you know, my wife would fuckin kill me if she knew I was drinkin' again, fuck her, fuck the hunters too!" His friends cheer and egg him on.

A bell chimes at the end of the alleyway, the tail end of the echo silences the breeze. Even in their drunken stupor, each man senses a cold dread tingle up their spines. Mike spins. Seeing nothing but the darkness beyond a set of garbage bins. He laughs. "Damn it's cold out here, fuckin ocean wind right?"

Another chime, closer now. The shadows among the alleyway walls swoop in, suffocating them. A set of light hooves clamber across the pavement, Mike and his friends stumble away from a seven foot tall figure draped in black garb. The details as they look upon it can not be described, as if the monster has stapled their tongues to the roof of their mouths.

"tHe gIrl..."

"We- we don't know what you're talking about!"

A haunted choir of screams rips from the darkness, Mike's burger falls to the ground along with his bloody arm, the muscles hang loose like damaged strings from a violin.

"whErE iS sHe?" The bell chimes once more, silencing the city, the soul of Vancouver lapsing into terror at the appearance of this new monster with a palpable thirst for blood...