DAEMONIUM

Prologue

The picture above is Derek Jaeschke, he is who I imagine He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named to be. This chapter is short af, sorry.

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Her blonde, pin-straight hair waved to him as a soft breeze blew through the small town, her bright blue eyes lit up as she laughed with the other women. She hadn't noticed him watching- waiting- for the perfect moment to strike. The wind blew her sweet, floral scent straight toward him. A cruel smile turned up at the corners of his mouth as he sucked in a deep breath through his nose, his mouth watered. His entire being ached with anticipation, he couldn't wait to sink his teeth into the soft skin of her throat.

The man could almost taste her on his tongue as he watched her dismiss herself from the group. The soft thrum of her heart echoed in his head, his eyes never leaving her as she danced her way back down the path toward her home. The silky skirts of her dress flowing out behind her. Today had been the towns anual celebration, remembering the men who founded the place. He had been correct, it was the perfect place to find his next meal.

He followed, keeping to the shadows under the trees. He bit back a growl as a boy stopped her, shifting back and forth on his feet, impatiently. He shouldn't have waited so long before feeding, now he could barely restrain himself from uncloaking himself from the shadows and having them both as his dinner. Patience, he told himself.

After several moments the pair parted and the hunt was on. He followed her silently, through the streets until she reached her quaint, little home. He was there, on the tiny porch, behind her before she ever had time to reach for the door. His hand closed around the lower part of her face, his fingers digging into her cheek as he smothered her surprised cry with his palm. His free arm snaked around her waist, holding her tight against his chest as she struggled. Her muffled screams making his hunger rise.

Burying his face into her throat, he inhales deeply, he could feel the pulse in her throat pounding against the tip of his nose. He groans softly, nearly trembling in anticipation as he tightened his hold.

"Quiet." he whispered to her in her native tongue.

She ceased her struggling but her sobs continued wetting his hand with her tears. He couldn't wait another second, he was sure if he didn't feed right then, that he'd implode right there. So he struck, sinking his teeth into the sweet skin of her throat. She screamed and her struggles resumed.

Warm, thick blood filled his mouth and dribbled down his chin. The feel of the sweet, syrup-like liquid sliding down his throat and soothing his burning hunger made him shudder. After a long moment she went slack in his arms, her knees giving out and her eyes rolling shut. He pulled his mouth from her neck, sucking the essence of her from his bottom lip.

Excitement coursed through him, now with her as compliant as she was he could finally get what we wanted. Reaching deep into her, he pulled. Stripping her body of the very essence that kept it animated. He felt the rush her soul gave him, felt the power in his veins as he dropped her with a heavy thud. Voices whispered in the tiny home, they had finally heard him.

He turns, leaping off the porch and disappearing back into the darkness.
The trees whipped past him in a blur, even on his worst day he was faster than any human, even more so now with the girls power within him. He loved the rush stealing souls gave him, it was unlike anything he had ever felt. Not to mention it made the most powerful being walking the Earth even more powerful.

Suddenly voices erupted in his head, beckoning him to come to them. His legs seemed to have minds of their own as they carried him in the direction of the chanting. He burst through the trees and into the small clearing, standing in a circle were a group of- seven, he counted- women. Their arms outstretched, heads back and chanting toward the sky.

Wind whistled forcefully through the trees, picking him up off his feet and tossing him into their circle. The pain was immediate, a loud scream tore from his throat as he curled in on himself as if that would lessen his pain. Is this what it feels like, he thought, to have your soul stolen? He looked up at them through blurred vision watching helplessly as they closed in on him, tightening their circle around him.

Their chants grew louder, drilling into his head, his entire body quivered and he could barely hold his eyes open now. And suddenly he recognized this for what it was, black magic. The dark magic that had cursed him, making him what he was today. He couldn't make out their words now as he fought to stay conscious. The chanting stopped just as suddenly as it had started, and he floated off into darkness.
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Just gonna warn you all now, this is my first story, so it's probably going to suck ass. This is also unedited so if you spot any mistakes feel free to point them out. c: I'll be updating the book as I write it, so have patience. Lmao. I hope you all enjoy.