"No tragedy in written history shall grieve me more than the passing of the Blood Father, for his disciples have seen to its remembrance. Such a pity that it won't rekindle the Sanguine Spark that burned within Him. Not even the Blood could unveil a way how..."

—Ahkri'Velle The Snake Tabernacle

June 2009

A congregation of chains rattled their monotonous tune as it weaved like a spider's web in a prison of red, holding its captor. The coils constricted around his wrist with the purpose of bondage, without a care if it suffocated him. Time was like the circulation of blood to these chains, and to cut the circulation was to cut away everything that time had in store.

Aubrey Terrance Wilkins shot awake in the darkness of the cold crypt. His head spun with unbearable pain, blurring his vision as he stumbled to get up. His breathing was drastic, as if he'd awoke from the sleep of death. A stinging pain domineered his right shoulder, only for him to discover that it was displaced. Something wet matted his hands leading all the way up to his long dreadlocks. He knew that it was blood, but who's blood? Was it his or someone else's?

Despite the sharp ache of his head, Aubrey's blurred vision was slowly coming back to him. Crimson footprints led down the eerie, decadent corridor. He couldn't remember how he ended up in this oppressive ruin, let alone what happened prior to this. The important question to him was the blood. Who's blood did this belong to? It wasn't his, that he knew. But the footprints were obviously his. He tried to move, but stumbled to his knees. "Damn it all," he muttered dryly. He fought through the headache and struggled to get himself up. I have to get moving. I know that mother and father are here, but they need me. For all I know, this could be an ambush.

He took slow steps as his vision fully returned to normal, his left hand clutching on to his shoulder. He followed the footsteps up until he found himself separated by the dark gap that led to the deep hole of blackness. The floor that once covered this hole had withered away by thousands of years of abandonment. Aubrey scanned the area around him, only to learn that the remaining lit torches, shattered arches and the broken columns matched the remnants of the main chamber. The main chamber of what ruin, he wasn't sure. The headache was slowly dwindling but it still stung with pain. His parents were in these ruins, and they might still be in danger.

Taking a deep breath, Aubrey bit in his left palm, drawing fresh scarlet. It ran from the wound in his palm down to his fingers before descending to the abyss below. Blood essence surged from his palm, surrounding him like a love's embrace. It ran all throughout his entire body. The stinging headache was gone and his right shoulder snapped back into place. Caressing and moving his right arm, Aubrey spanned his arms and levitated across the gap, blood essence carrying him to the other side. He swung to face the hole that made up this main chamber and sighed before making his way down the blackened corridor.

His father's teachings resurfaced in his mind as he broke into a full sprint, blood essence materializing into a ball of light, illuminating the path in front of him. Rodents and nocturnal insects scurried into the dark cracks to avoid the light's scarlet rays. "There is no light in this world, only the silvered words that make up its existence. They are the gateways to blindness, one for alliance and the other for antagonization. Blood is the truest of all things, for it makes allies and enemies to none. Side with the blood, and you will bend the warped realities of the human mind." It was the most memorable lesson his father told him.

Gothic arches were destroyed—collapsed along with the floors in the previous chamber. Shattered glass sprawled on the ground beneath his bare feet, cutting into his soles, opening another fresh wound. It didn't bother him the slightest bit, for it was the price he had to pay in order to wield the blood. A new addition to the numerous scars on his dark flesh. The scarlet light illuminated the area around him as he continued his way through the crumbled pillars and broken-down steeple. What once stood as a marvelous place so long ago was now reduced into a ruined mess—a shadow of its former self.

He followed his footsteps carefully. The further he went, the more dried up that they've become until it wasn't dark red, but dried into a blackened thing, as if it were the blood of a vargr. His heart slowly began to freeze as he let the footsteps guide him to who knew what.

And his freezing heart confirmed the bleak terror that awaited him.

His mother and father lie motionless on the corridor, their decapitated bodies embracing, their heads cradled in their arms in an amalgamating pool of red and black. The round bearded head of his father stared into the void as ebony blood streaked from his brown eyes. His mother's eyes were shut, as if it already came to terms with its fate before it finally arrived. Long streaks of brown crochet braids meshed into the black and red pool of blood. Aubrey's heart submerged into the abyss, like the gaping hole in the main chamber as he knelt before them, a waterfall of tears streamed from his eyes.

"No," Aubrey muttered, struggling to get his words out. "No. No. NO. NO. NO!!" His voice grew in volume before it descended into a sobbing fit, cradling the severed heads of his parents, their blood smearing his skin and the pants he wore. "Who the hell did this?"

He met the faces of his lifeless parents. "I promise you," he swore, "that I will find the one responsible for this. By the Blood Father I'll bring the murderer to justice!"