In 1873, vampires are preparing for the fulfilment of a 2000 year old prophecy that will allow them to walk in sunlight, and only Vampire Hunter, Victor Drake can stop them.
The shadows on the cobbled streets where she was running were frightening her.
Not knowing whether they were her stalker or not, her heart raced as she ran. Afraid for her life, she dared not look back in case her fear was real.
The stories she had heard over the months she had just dismissed as foolhardy tales told by travellers at the local inn. As a barmaid, she was used to the drunken lies told by the customers just to get her into their beds. A few of the other girls had been drawn by these stories, or at least that was their excuse for going with these men. Jessica however was not so taken in. She knew the truth. Whether the girls she worked with believed these stories or not, she knew that tall tales ran wild in the quiet countryside towns, especially in the town of Edgewich.
Jessica ran so hard the muscles in her legs started to burn. The streets were also unforgiving on her feet as her shoes were very thin, she might as well have been running barefoot for all the protection they gave her.
She was a very beautiful woman, with her long blonde hair and green eyes; the most attractive barmaid at the Old **** Inn. Not that the others girls there were ugly, far from it, but Jessica was by far the best. This was probably why she got most of the attention from the men that came in, and why she did not believe the things they were saying. She knew what they wanted.
There were always stories about ‘monsters in the fog’, as she liked to call them, and they were always after young, attractive girls. Jessica was sure that she was far too smart to believe anything anyone said, and would purposely find out for herself before she trusted anyone’s word.
The latest group of tales however held more substance than the others. The theme of these stories was always the same, and they were not just told by travellers this time; it was solely the locals, men who she had known almost all her life, who were talking about them.
These recent ones had started with the disappearance of a little girl about four weeks ago. By all accounts she was playing by the woods at the back of her home, and as nightfall drew near, her father went out to bring her back in. She was not where she was supposed to be, which was just near the edge of the wood, but her father was sure he could just about hear her playing behind the first lot of trees.
He called out to her, and much to his relief, she responded by saying that she was coming through the sound of her footsteps on the dry leaves on the ground. As she got closer he could hear her talking to someone, but could not see her or her companion yet as they were still too far in the wood.
He felt that something was wrong, so he called out her name again. She called back to him, her voice echoed through the trees.
“I’m coming daddy,” she called, repeating the words over and over.
Her voice got louder the closer she got to the edge of the wood, then, all of a sudden, there was complete silence. Not a twig snap. Not a branch sway. Not a bird singing. Nothing at all.
The girl’s father waited a few seconds before calling her name again, but this time he got no response, just the echo of his own voice. Panicking, he tried again and again, but still no response came.
By this time his wife had come out to see what was going on, and upon hearing what had happened, she told him to find some help and go and look for her. He went knocking on the doors of the houses nearby, but to begin with only a few people agreed to help in search for his daughter.