Blackstead

The smell of rotten meat hung around the streets of Blackstread. Despite the Blackstead not being a market or a slaughterhouse the smell still remained and tormented the passerby. The Blackstread was a town. Home to the most vile thieves and criminals. The cases of genocide, suicide, kidnapping and thievery were rampant. The puny government did nothing about this problem. The people were left to fend for themselves. No protection and no laws. It was a place to go to if a person commited a serious crime. This town was no place for the weak. The strong always crushed the weak.

The sun was rising. The people were ready to say goodbye to their dreams. Their dreams were their only refuge from the terrible and cruel town but sometimes their sleep left them vulnerable. They were always easy targets while they were sleeping. Many people would go to sleep hoping to dream about an impossible paradise but they never got to open their eyes again. They would awake in this impossible paradise. Away from the cruel world.

In the streets of the Blackstread a man in a blood red snakeskin cloak hid in the shadows. He had picked the wrong colour if he wanted to hide from sight. On his belt was a deadly sword.

The man was waiting for someone. On his face was the look of someone out to end the life of an unfortunate person. He wiped the sweat of his brow and muttered curses in frustration. The man suddenly smiles when he saw his target. A woman walked out of an old building. She looked around to see if anyone was watching her. When she saw that the coast was clear she ran to a nearby alley. The cloaked man saw all of this and followed her silently. When the man reached the alley he saw no woman. He stepped back and looked carefully around the alley and smiled. He had found what he was looking for.

The woman dead. Her corpse was drained to the bone. A figure bended over her body. The cloaked man frowned and drew his sword. The figure looked up and saw the cloaked man. The man wasn't sure what the figure was but he was sure that it was dangerous. The figure jumped at the man with blinding speed. The man extended his hand and grabbed the head of his attacker. The figure shouted in surprised and shouted again in pain as it got slammed against a wall.

"A vampire," the cloaked man said. "how am I not surprised."

The vampire chuckled and answered in it's raspy voice.

"Hello, who are you?"

"My name would mean nothing to a dead man."

The vampire laughed. This time it was a humorous laugh. It wasn't just a simple chuckle.

The cloaked man smirked and pulled back his cloak. A suit of black leather armour was revealed.

The vampire stopped laughing and frowned.

"Who are you?" asked the vampire. "A knight?"

"Yes I am," came the answer. "One heck of a knight."

The vampire charged without warning. It slashed at the man but the man blocked the attack with his sword. The man brought his sword back and slashed at the vampire. The vampire jumped back missing an arm.

The man smiled and ran at the vampire. His sword was positioned in a stabbing motion.

Before the vampire could realise what was happening the man stabbed the vampire in the heart.

The vampire crumbled to his knees and asked one pitiful question

"Who are you?"

The man cloaked himself again and answered.

"Steindür, Maryk Steindür."

The vampire smiled and rested his head on it's chest. The figure of the vampire crumbled to dust as Maryk Steindür stood over it in triumph.