Dark Hearts
Daniel Daly
Angels of Love
Dark Hearts
by
Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly
Copyright 6176 SC by
There are 3 choices common to the heart of man. The choice to show yourself a man in front of the crowd. Machismo, vainglory, ego - call it what you will, the male species suffers from this phenomenon time and time again, from generation to generation. There are many a fair maiden who has supposed to have been impressed by the valor of the heart beset on brave deeds of foolery. And fooldery rightly said, even since the days of Adam's quests to win Eve's attentions. Which draws us to the second and most obvious choice common to the rougher sex - the choosing of the fair mate. So many tales from mankind's dismal history record for us the proud heart softening in the arms of his beloved, for which all his vain boasting and brawlings he naievely believes have wone his maiden's heart. He quarrells, argues, punches and fights, all to conquer the jungle of his adversaries, mainly for one prized possession, held in esteem in his kingdom above all other great glories. A lovely pair of breasts.
Yes, man is a simpleton, barely evolved from the days in the caves, yet woman, albeit reluctantly, and definitely thinking she should know better by no, time and time again succumbs to the base charms of this devil in flesh.
Two common choices - which have propelled mankind forward for millennia.
Yet.......
There is another choice. A third choice. A choice not often chosen, for it is 'Other' to most mortals, uttered only by old and foolish wives, or ancient and wisened wizards, who know the power capable of seducing even the bravest of the children of men.
And sometimes that choices must not even be made by a man anyway.
But a woman.
* * * * *
'Kristen! Now you're a sensible babe. Tell me. How smart are vampires? I mean, really. How smart can they possibly be?'
Kristen Stewart, looking out at the baseball game, was tempted to ignore Jovius question. He was just being stupid anyway. The Yankees were up 7 runs to 4 against Minnesota, and while Kardos sat there, unblinking, uncaring even, Kristen was having the time of her life. Back in the real world. Back in her own community. Finally she succumbed to Jovius taunt.
'Vampires are brilliant,' she responded boldly, smiling at Kardos, who hardly noticed.
Suddenly the crowd cheered as a ball exploded from the bat into the stadium, but just wide enough to be a fowl ball.
'Brilliant, huh?' queried Jovius.
'Yes, brilliant,' responded Kristen, staring at her husband who remained silent.
'Can we go now?' asked Kardos sullenly. 'Too much sun will kill me, you know. Literally.'
Kristen looked at her man, sighed, disappointed to being forced to leave so soon, but knowing she didn't have much choice. There was a spell on him at the moment - a charm allowing him to be in the day - but its power was only temporary. He was a fish out of water, and they all knew it.
'Sure,' she said softly. 'We can go.'
'But I have a bet on the outcome,' complained Jovius.
'I'll reimburse you. I promise,' said Kristen.
'200 bucks?' he asked her.
'Sure, here, take it,' she said, taking the money from her purse and shoving it into Jovius hands.
As they made their way out of Yankee stadium, Kristen was a little annoyed. She had barely seen her parents when Kardos wanted to leave, and now this. It wasn't ever going to be easy married to a vampire, but it was the choice she had made. In the carpark they neared their van when a dark figure, cloaked, head and face hidden, approached them and said 'Woman!''
The trio turned to face teh figure, which did not move, but seemed to be looking at Kristen.
'What do you want?' asked Kardos, but the cloaked figure remained silent, like the reaper, hidden from view, gazing at his next victim perchance.
'Ignore it,' said Jovius. 'It's just some old crony. Come to gawk at Kardos' fair maiden.'
The figure hissed at Jovius, but did nothing more, its gaze transfixed on Kirsten. At last it spoke.
'It is true then,' said the figure, its voice one of the creatures of the night. 'You are a threshold child.'
Kardos looked at the figure. 'What are you?'
In response the creature removed its head to reveal the ghastly face of a dragon-ghoul - an undead walking lizard man.
'I am Tharg,' it replied, with a voice of obvious pride in itself, as if impressed by its very own stature. 'I have seen you, maid Kristen, at Celestever. Only from a distance. But in your presence your beauty is as of a divine angel in all its glory.'
'Thanks,' said Jovius smartly. Kardos glared at him.
The creature kneeled, then, in front of Kristen. 'We will serve you like no other, my lady. The dragon-ghouls are the greatest of servants and, should you choose us....Nay, when you choose us, you will know every luxury your heart could require.'
Kristen was confused. What did the beast mean? Choose the dragon-ghouls?
'He's nuts,' said Jovius.
'Silence,' said Kardos, cautioning the angel. The vampire turned to the creature. 'What do you mean? A threshold child?'
Thargs gaze turned to the vampire. 'Your kind has ruled poorly. A threshold chooses wisely, in the end. They are the most unbiased of vessels, even forsaking their own kind for the sake of justice. We do not fear you, Kardos.' And the ghoul spak in front of the vampire.
'You going to put up with that?' asked Jovius, but Kardos just stared at the creature, who was again gazing at a very confused looking Kristen.
Tharg spoke once more. 'We will serve you greater than any other. This I swear to you, my maiden.'
'I, I believe you,' she suttered in response.
The creature continued gazing at Kristen and, having done what it came to do, glared at Kardos and Jovius one last time, and turned, retreating, slithering back the way from whence it had come.
'What the hell was all that about?' asked Jovius, perplexed.
Kardos ignored the angel, looking at his bride, who was staring after the creature. 'Kristen!' he said, but she seemed glazed, staring after the creature. 'Kristen,' he yelled again, and this time she turned to him. 'Let's go, ok hon. Let's go. Ok?'
Kristen nodded vaguely, but her mind was all over the place. They got in their van, and Kardos kept his eye on his wife yet, as teh van pulled out of the stadium carpark, headed northwards, towards home, one word was being repeated over and over again in her mind. One solitary word.
THRESHOLD
* * * * *
Magenta was a wise girl. 17, beautiful like her mother Kristen, with a heart of gold. But a vampiric heart of gold. Roary, on the other hand, 15, human, was wise in his own way, but far from having a heart of love. Ironic how life often reverses seemingly natural roles. Roary dressed in black, listened to heavy metal music, swore, drank, and tried to get into the pants of as many of the girls at his school as possible. He lived with his grandparents on his mothers side, somewhere in Canada, and didn't see his family much. I mean, you couldn't expect that, really, after all - they were undead. Yet his mother was still with the living, and as she fussed over him that evening, his own blood father, the disinterested Kardos, in the other room with his 'True' child and daughter Magent, Roary was more than usually annoyed.
'He hates me,' said the teen.
'He doesn't hate you,' she said, trying to wipe dirt from his brow, but Roary wouldn't be disuaded.
'It will never be the same again, mom. Never like it was. Since I left Celestevere he is more relieved than anything. As if I am a problem he is longing to get rid of.'
'It's not like that,' she said, chiding him.
'It's not?' he responded defensively.
She looked at her lovely boy, unable to admit the truths both of them knew too well.
'He's vampire. I'm human. I mean, he loves you, but I'm a cross he's unwilling to bear.'
She sat down on the bed and looked at her son. 'Kardos loves you. It's just..'
'That he loves Magenta more,' the youth responded.
Kristen sighed. 'We are family, Roary. Never forget that.'
'There is something he could do,' said Roary, lifting his arm to his mouth in a biting motion.
'Don't even think it,' she responded quickly.
'It would solve everything,' he said defiantly.
'Being undead would solve everything?' she queried him, a soft grin on her face.
'You know what I mean,' he said, throwing a sock at her.
'Unfortunately, yes,' she said, staring at her lovelorn son. 'Just give him time,' she encouraged her son. 'He has already accepted you. It is just an awkward situation.'
'Don't I know it,' was the sarcastic reply.
She spoke honestly. 'God only knows what the future holds, Roary. God alone. But we will be family in the end. Somehow, some way, when all is said and done, we will be together, and we will be a family.'
'And you really believe that,' he asked forlornly.
'Yes I really do,' she finished, which brought a glimmer of encouragement to the face of her son. 'Now come. Let me show you why.'
And so, for a while anyway, Kardos listened to his son's adventures, and almost seemed happy with this human child of his. Almost. But as the night passed, and the next day threatened, the brief time Kardos had granted his wife in the world of men came to an end, for soon they would return to Celestevere and, once more, the machinations and the politics of the world of the undead.
* * * * *
Gladitorius Vigantes looked at his grandson's move in the game of chess the two of them were currently involved in. Blackrock was young, and full of ambitious moves, but Gladitorius was no foolish naive.
'You have left yourself open, Blackrock,' Gladitorius confidently stated.
'Have I?' queried Blackrock, innocently.
'Indeed,' responded Gladitorius, taking his opponents rook. Yet the freed queen moved up diagonally and, now protected by a bishop, had Gladitorius in check.
'Oh, sacrifice,' exclaimed Gladitorius. Blackrock remained silent. Two moves later Blackrock had won the game.
Gladitorius surveyed his young apprentice.
'Muster such skills in our wars with the vampire clans, and even I will applaud you.'
'Your will is my desire,' responded the dark wolf bowing.
'Indeed,' stated Gladitorius, examining his grandson. 'You are aware, of course, child of mine, that Celestevere is currently beset with knowledge of the threshold child. Your winning her affections shall not be easy.'
'Yet I have you to advise me.'
'Yes,' responded Gladitorius. The wolverine stood, picked up the red queen, and paced the room. 'Kristen Stewart is an unusual human. As others have noticed, she is most gracious and hospitable. Some say she is above the lures and temptations of the flesh. Above mere guile.'
'Your point,' responded Blackrock.
'My point, young buck, is that merely relying on your masculine chicanery may not be enough, I am afraid, to win such a fair maiden's heart.'
'Then I try honesty.'
'You may have to,' said Gladitorius, looking at the red queen in the candle-light. 'Our lovely threshold child has the future of the night in her hands. And, ironically, it is a human who must decide our fate.'
'I guess that is how destiny has decided it must be,' replied Blackrock.
'The complexities of fate are like that. Never certain. We are caught up, all of us, in the fantastic machinations of a cosmic plan made by those great powers which control all things, the lords of chaos and order.'
'Yet our will impacts reality,' responded Blackrock.
'As surely as the moon affects the tides,' finished Gladitorius. He looked at the red queen in the candle light once more, before returning it to the chess set.
'So, moon knight,' said Gladitorius, staring intensely at the Dark Wolf. 'Do not let others determine your fate. Others who, shall I say, are not so hospitable to the concerns of the wolverines of Celestevere.'
'It will be as you say,' said the Dark Wolf, full of confidence.
'I do hope so,' said Gladitorius, sitting in front of the chess set, gazing at the red queen. 'I do hope so.'
* * * * *
They had left Jovius at a crossroads, and he had disappeared into the skies, wings unfurled. And then, the night edging on, they parked in a makeshift hollow, under a clump of thick trees, the area protected by numerous spells to hide it from mankind, and entered a cave and downwards, ever downwards, into the dark they descended, into the heart of Celestevere.
'I want to speak with Darkthorn tomorrow,' said Kardos. 'I will be gone a few days.'
'Are you going to ask him about.....' she trailed off, saying nothing more.
As they descended he turned to her. 'Yes', he said, and didn't speak again.
Yet they both knew. And as the three silent figures, father, mother and daughter, reurned to their abode in the heart of Celestevere, Kristen knew, soon enough, she would get an explanation. Shewould get her understanding of what a 'Threshold' child was all about. And, as they entered their abode, and found their place of slumber, Kristen knew the next mystery in her life would be soon revealed. The next puzzling answer in the strange destiny of Kristen Stewart.
* * * * *
The wolf howled, then, with the other three, circled their prey. A hornstag, with magnificent antlers, rising up 8 feet from the ground, not counting the horns. Kristen watched from the shadows as the transmogrified wolverines circled the hornstag, ready to attack. She felt so - alive. The blood pounding in her veins. As she watched from her safe position, the first, brown wolverine, attacked quickly, but the hornstag lowered its head and, with its magnificent horns, flicked the wolverine with its massive strength, the wolf shuddering into the bark of a nearby redwood. But the stag had barely a moment to celebrate its brief victory when the other three wolverines were upon it, fangs and claws biting deep into its flesh. The gorey scene which followed did not, strangely, embarass Kristen. She had seen much in her life in the shadows. Blackrock, naked, covered in blood, back in regular form, stood before Kristen.
'Did the combat amuse you?' queried the Dark Wolf.
'It was hardly a fair fight,' the maiden responded, almost tempted to lower her gaze towards his naked mid section, but resisting. Kardos was not far away.
'He was a valiant steed. Makros will have bruises and broken bones for months,' said the Dark Wolf, his face animated by the recent combat.
'It fought bravely. Against such great odds,' responded Kristen.
'Yet we showed ourself a race worthy of rulership,' he prided.
'Perhaps,' she said, looking at the gruesome remains of the dead stag. 'Yet do you know mercy on the dead?' she queried him, her eyebrow raised.
'The dead need not pity,' replied Blackrock, as the other wolverines came forward.
'I'll remember that,' responded Kristen.
Just then a clapping Gladitorius Vigantes, and his entourage, emerged from the shadows, patting Blackrock on his strong shoulders.
'He performed magnificently,' boasted Gladitorius.
Accross the clearing Darkthorn and other Vampiric host, including Kardos, stepped forward and said, 'Perhaps. Yet it was four to one. Hardly cause for such a boastful celebration, Gladitorius.'
The two clans glared at each other, almost a standoff of warring parties.
'I am sure the maiden can make up her own mind on that,' said Gladitorius confidently, gazing upon Kristen, who's lusting eyes were still on the dark wolf.
'And I am sure she will,' responded Kardos, who had come forward and wrapped his arms around his wife; but her eyes were still on the dark wolf.
'And I am sure she will,' responded Kardos, who had come forward and wrapped his arms around his wife; but her eyes were still on the dark wolf. Makros, bruised, bleeding and battered, had ripped off the stag's antlers and kneeled in front of Kristen, offerin his blood sacrifice to his hopeful queen.
'For your glory,' said Makros, and bowed his head, which led to the other bloodied wolverines doing likewise. And, as Blackrock bowed, his eyes were affixed to the sensual beauty of Kristen who, at that very moment, seemed to glow, seemed to radiate supreme power, a noble queen, a goddess, accepting her great warrior's brave sacrifice.
'For your glory,' said Blackrock, his eyes unmoving from his queen's face.
'Thank you. Brave warriors,' said Kristen, who could not keep her eyes off the dark wolf.
'I've had enough of this,'interrupted the very annoyed looking Kardos. He pulled at Kristen's shoulder, but she didn't budge.
'It seems as if the maiden has indeed found her steed acceptable,' boasted Gladitorius, yet with his eyes darting from Kristen's transfixed face to the heavily breathing Blackrock, leaving all present no question as to which steed Kristen was finding acceptable.
* * * * *
Magenta was off with her new friend, Makros. Off with a werewolf.
'I am Vampire,' she said.
'And I am werewolf,' he responded.
'We are hardly compatible.'
'It has been known to happen,' said the wolverine, looking at her figure, not pretending to hide his lust. 'The offspring are, how should I say it - challenging.'
'Bloodwolves,' she exclaimed.
'You find them in Europe, especially,' he commented. 'Over there they are older in the ways of things. An ancient culture, the birthplace of our kind, were the passions of the warring clans are more sedate, more - content - with each other. Oh, recently there has been turmoil, but for a long while now our old world compatriots have done that most hideous of things.
Her look queried for an answer.
'Get along,' he said dryly.
'Is that so bad. I mean, we are lovers. We get along.'
'You are the only exception,' he said, taking her and caressing her arm.
'I but you say that to everyone,' she said, pulling away.
'Only you,' he said, in that deep growling seductive voice she had come to love.
'Of course, they go by many names, bloodwolves. Usually sterile, but not always. In fact, they are practically a clan, these days.'
She smiled at him. 'You would bed me? And sire a bloodwolf?'
He took her hand, kissed it, and said, 'Even your mother is not your equal.'
Magenta blushed. 'I am sure, once again,' she chided,' that you say that to all your consorts.'
'Only those as beautiful as you,' he responded, his eyes locked on her.
'There!' she said boldly. 'You have given yourself away. You have had lovers beyond count, twould imagine.'
'Nay. Only one. Yourself and none other.' He was lying, but the girl was naive.
'I am the queen of your heart?' hoped Magenta, looking at the ravenous wolflord.
'None could claim it apart from your glory. You are a picture of perfection. Of dark perfection. In a world too evil to appreciate your gentle graces, your loving mercies.'
She was flattered, but wanted to hear more. 'So you say,' she said, pulling away.
'I would dare that heaven itself has not a beauty your equal. That the pillars of Zaphon have not greeted a face as resplendid in majesty as that of yourself.'
'Zaphon?' she queried. 'Roary mentioned something about that the other day.'
'Zion of Eternity,' said Makros dismissively. 'Home to fowl angels who think themselves better than our kind. Who think themselves God's precious gifts of glory.'
'God,' she said softly. 'I suppose you do believe in God, then.'
'There can be no evil without goodness to oppose it. In all its hypocrisy of so called holiness and lawfulness. They deceive themselves in thinking themself better than our kind. We are more honest. More true. We do not hide,' he said, gazing at her. 'Our passions.'
She smiled. They were the words she wanted to hear.
'Do you love me?' she asked.
'More than life itself,' he said, taking her hand and kissing it.
'Would you die for me?' she dared.
'I would plunge myself into the abyss of insanity for all eternity for one night in your arms.
She smiled again. He really was laying it on. 'You are a devil,' she finally said, pulling away once more, almost tempted to give herself to the charms of a wolverine.
'And it takes one to recognize one,' he responded.
And she did not disagree with that statement.
* * * * *
Roary sat by his mother, looking into the fireplace, Kardos away, and the two alone for the night.
'Let me tell you another tale,' he began. 'Of Celeste.'
She nodded, staring into the flames.
'Astrana told me this one also.' Astrana was the Vampire girl which Roary had recently started attaching himself too. She was beautiful maiden, and Roary had fallen for her. She had told him tales, of Celeste of Paradise, and he had shared some with his mother. And now another. 'Time had passed, and Deimos was long gone, and Celeste was alone once more. But her heart, after all her weeping, was restored somewhat, and she needed love once more. Yet, in all of Paradise, there was no love she could find, no love she deemed suitable an equal. And then she bespoke her mother and sought an answer to her dilemma. And Angela, queen of paradise, wept, for she knew the heart choice her daughter sought. And she said that in heaven, were the children of heaven lived, that Samael, the child of Heaven, was of such a character and quality that for Celeste, who like Angela besought a challenge in her rival partner, there could be no equal but Samael. Yet she could not return, said Angela, for the rift between Heaven and Paradise had of recent been torn to shreds, and it went one way, from Paradise to Heaven, for Heaven would never release a soul which sought its comforts. For the children of heaven were the children of love, and could never bear parting with one they had admitted to their company. So Celeste wept once more, but sought out this Samael, and travelled the one way rift, and was lost to Paradise forever. And the moral was that one choice could change your destiny - forever and ever and ever.'
Roary left off speaking, and Kristen stared into the flames, as they danced and sang their tune and thought on Celeste, and thought on the eternal choice she had made, and, her own situation being such a choice she would soon have to make, wondered indeed - could she leave the heart of paradise? Could she dare the realm of Heaven? Could she forsake those she had come to love to seek the glory of a mate of true equal? Could she?
* * * * *
Makros sat with Blackrock, and Gladitorius poured himself a brandy.
'She is, liking you,' queried Gladitorius to Makros statement.
Makros nodded.
'Yet, will she like you enough?'
'Enough for what?' asked Makros innocently.
Gladitorious sipped on his brandy and said nothing more.
Eventually he spoke once more. 'The time of the Vampires draws to a close. This - this, I foresee. It really can not be any other way. They have ruled poorly. For they are but vampire, and none have prospered in their time, and humanity has grown to no longer fear us. Indeed, in this day and age, they make their movies about our kind, and joke of their slayers of the undead, as if we are no longer a threat. As if hell has succumbed, and even a teenager with a stake can rid the world of us with a smug one liner and a daring glance. Bah, they have led us to ruin. The choice can be no other. It must end. The Vampires have failed - miserably, and though the dark lord himself has betrayed the service of hell, we will once more gain the ascendancy. Of that I have no doubts.'
He looked at Makros. 'Stay with this girl. Stay with her, and be everything she needs in a lover. There will come a time, quite soon I would imagine, when things may happen to help our situation;
'What things?' asked Makros, but Gladitorius just smiled at him.
* * * * *
'Sink or swim,' said Kardos to his son.
'What do you mean?'
'Roary. Life in the world of a nether is brutal. If you walk down the wrong alleyway of Celestevere, with the reputation the vampires have, you best be guarded. At the moment, especially, our kind are up against it. But, I fear, in the very near future, we will be even more so. I sense that, regardless of whatever your mother chooses, the Vampires days are numbered. We have not made the populous happy. They have rejected our rule simply because we have done the one thing we thought we should do - rule well to keep the peace - which is the opposite of what has been wanted. Turmoil, tension, war upon the children of men. This is the stuff of the undead. And, in the very near future our kind will have to swim with the sharks, or have our heads bitten off and sink to the bottom of the eternal abyss.'
'Thanks dad. You inspire me with confidence.'
'Its not funny, Roary. Up above, with humans, you had it easy. They love you and teach you and say everything will be alright. But this is a dark world you have chosen - by your own choice - and in this world nice guys finish last. I have had to learn that the very hard way. Be ruthless - or they will eat you alive - literally.'
Thoughts flashed through Roary's head of Blackrock cornering him, opening up his wolverine jaws and devouring him. He shuddered.
'Its not that bad, dad. Astrana likes me. Vampires here like me.'
'For what you can offer them. In their ambitions. Nothing more.
'But doesn't even love, dark love albeit, still rule in some strange way. Astrana says that. That in here, in the heart of hell, there is a community of sorts. That the undead still have protocols, rules - respect. That even in a nether there is still hope.'
Kardos looked at his son, wanting to despise the naievete of youth, but took pity. 'If you think so, Roary. If you think so.'
All that night Roary questioned. Had he made the right choice - becoming a vampire. For Astrana had loved him, and deep down in Celestevere she had bitten him, and he had found the reward he felt he had needed. He'd wanted to fit in, and it seemed so right, so natural, to just go with the flow. But was the allure, the temptation, of dark love - was it the right choice in the end? Or would he end up the lunch of some pissed off wolverine or were-ghoul, another forgotten victim in the world of the undead were love of heaven was neither wanted or accepted.
* * * * *
Gladitorious played his trump card, and Makros tempted Magenta to persuade Kristen to choose the werewolf. But Kristen shook her head and denied her daughters persuasions, but it became clear. The time of choosing had to come. The time to make her choice. Kristen contacted the council, and it was arranged. They would travel to the Crystal city, and the final choice would be made. Jovius would transport her, for she needed to arrive a queen in her own strength, yet Kardos would meet her at the appointed place.
And she looked in her heart. And she thought on all that had been said and done. And she made her dark choice.
* * * * *
As Kristen sat next to Jovius in his lightmobile, flying through the heights of purgatory, the spirit of the place sent shivers down her spine constantly. It was here, were heaven and hell met, and formerly damned souls slaved away, serving for their heavenly reward, and formerly divine angels wept bitter tears, fallen from grace, kicked out of heaven, perhaps to fall even further still, that Kristen sensed the spirit of life and its ultimate fateful decisions alive in her soul, so very compelling, so very real, in a way unlike anything she had ever felt before. Purgatory. Hah. A Catholic doctrine, apparently, but who knew.
'So, you see,' continued Jovius, purgatory is where heaven meets hell and the council of Angels occasionally talks with the counsel of demon's. Currently there is a host of new demon's trying to take over control of Hell, as Satan has been forgiven and has been restored to heaven. It was a trial, in many ways, for Shaltoriana, but she succeeded were others failed.'
'Satan's redemption?' queried Kristen.
Jovius nodded soberly.
They had accessed Purgatory via a portal in Celestevere, and while as a living human Kristen would not have normally had access to it, as the Threshold she was specially chosen were others could not step, lest the hand of cold death had claimed them.
'The Angels placed the portal in Celestevere,' said Jovius casually. 'I even remember it. Long ago now, but hey, I've been around forever.'
'How old are you?' she asked.
'Old enough,' he responded.
As they flew along she looked down at the gleaming cities of purgatory below. What strange lives were lived there, she thought to herself. What brave struggles were some souls fighting to regain their glory?
'Of course,' continued Jovius. 'The Counsel of the Dark reside in the Crystal City. Many of the chief Vampire rulers live there.'
'And the Crystal City?' she asked.
They came through an upper cloud and Jovius said 'There.'
Looking upwards was a glorious city, indeed encrusted with multicoloured crystals, gleaming in the light, Purgatory's finest glory, perhaps.
They found landing and, going through the entrance, they were directed till they found Kardos and Darkthorn at the end of a long corridor, in a waiting room, just outside the heart of the Counsel.
'Are you ready?' her husband asked her.
She nodded, nervously. 'It's now or never,' she thought to herself. 'Now or never.'
* * * * *
Lord Dastranovo, today, looked especially magnificent.. Purple and Amber robes, with gold trim and adorned with jewels, his spectacular robes were an icon of the indulgence the ruling vampires had gotten all too used to. Testament to that, the other clan representatives present at the Counsel of the Dark were by no means as lavishly attired. Vampire pride, Kirstent thought privately to herself.
When Kristen was seated, the various clan heads fixed upon her, their gazes intense, Lord Dastranovo began.
'A new Threshold is a rare occurrence, but even things rare...... and beautiful,' came the obvious compliment,' do come to be,' he finished.
'Counsel. The threshold has come. We are all ready. I will ask her of her choice, and we will act, UNITED, thereupon.
Clan heads nodded, and eyes fixed upon Kristen.
The vampire turned to her. 'Have you made your choice?'
'I have,' she responded.
The Vampire nodded, saying, 'The chamber will be silent.'
A hush came over the counsel and Lord Dastranovo read from a black tome.
Then, radiating in front of them, three demon lords appeared.
Lord Dastranovo spoke. 'The threshold is ready to choose.'
One of the demon's turned to Kristen and spoke.
'As you may know, our former Lord has abandoned us, once again choosing the light.'
'I have heard,' responded Kristen.
Another demon spoke. 'We are not........Moral, creatures. Kristen Stewart Our agenda is not that of the Holy One. We serve, how shall I put it, our OWN agenda.'
'We believe in Freedom. Absolute freedom,' said the third demon.
'Sometimes we choose evil,' said the first demon.
'And sometimes we even choose good,' said the second.
'But it is always our FREE chocie,' finished the first. 'Do you understand this?' he queried.
'I do,' responded Kristen.
The demon's hovered there, then came forward, surrounding her, touching her. and she felt ecstacy, the dark ecstacy of absolute freedom, a drug of supreme power. And instantly she knew what she was choosing.
'So choose,' said the first demon.
'Yes choose,' said the second demon.
'Choose,' said the third demon.
'I choose the werewolves,' exclaimed Kristen boldly.
'So be it,' said the demon's as one. 'The Choice has been made.'
Just then an orange light beamed down from the ceiling, encompassing Kristen. And she heard voices, voices speaking at a distance, speaking about her.
'Will she choose wisely,' one said.
'Will honour rule her heart,' another queried.
'Or will dark love seduce her,' said another.
A cacophonhy of noise, piercing her spirit, assessing her for all she was, for all her worth. And then, just as suddenly as it had been there, it was gone. And she was left standing there, trembling.
Kardos rushed forward.
'I love you,' he said.
'I know,' she responded.
* * * * *
As the next few months passed, and the wolverines took control, life changed, obviously. But when the transition was complete, life, for the most part, went on as it had always done. The regular routine of it all, the regular, almost, monotony. The regular dark life of the Dark Hearts of Celestevere.
Sitting on the counsel was something new for Kristen for a while, with its special honours and its special glories, but this too, in time, faded back into its regular routines and life, as they say it, went on.
And then, in the dark heart of Celestevere, a wolverine named Gladitorius smiled to himself, rolled out a scroll from a long resting hiding place in his den, unrolled it and looked at the title of the page, in an old wolverine language.
'DARK FIRE,' it read, translated.
And Gladitorious shone a dark, truly dark, wicked little grin.
The End