Blue Crescent (The Birth of the First Immortal)

Hear Ye! Hear Ye!

A long, long time ago when the world was younger, werewolves, vampires, witches, and humans once lived together in their own territories. The world was somehow a peaceful place to live in under the leadership of Alpha Lucian—the strongest lycan ruler born under the power of the blue moon known as the Blue Crescent.

The blue crescent only happens once every fifty years. When another boy of any supernatural kind is born as the blue moon ascends, the predecessor steps down on the successor’s sixteenth birthday. All mothers in labor would gather at the ceremony in the hopes of giving birth to a male child and take the pride of royalty. Unfortunately, the children of the blue crescent moon only come from the bloodline of werewolves and vampires. Witches don’t even bother dreaming of having a sovereign from their lineage since they are humans too made powerful by magic.

On the most awaited night, two boys were born. One was Lucian’s child, and the other was Markus’s, a vampire. However, it was the first time that two future leaders were born, and there can only be one to rule.

Lucian and Markus agreed to train the young boys as warriors. On the boys’ sixteenth birthday when their powers are awakened and unleashed, the two fought a duel. Markus’s son came out victorious, but Lucian’s son was losing blood and grasping for breath. His body was covered with bite marks.

Lucian froze as he watched his son being slaughtered by Markus’s son who transformed into a black-eyed vampire with a speed faster than light. His wife pleaded to stop the duel, but he cannot meddle in the fight between the two who were fighting for dominion. As if the gods favored Markus’s son, the young boy sped off around Lucian’s son forming a whirlwind of fire and turned Lucian’s hopeless son into ashes.

“If I were you, Lucian, I wouldn’t have agreed my human son to fight against a powerful vampire like my son. Please accept my sincere sympathy.” Markus snapped his finger, making a white rose come out in between his fingers and threw it on the ashes of Lucian’s son. He then ordered Lucian to proclaim the new ruler of the tribe.

The werewolves were struck with grief, looking at the heartbreaking scene while the vampires rejoiced to finally rule the earth after centuries of waiting. Standing in the middle ground, the new ruler demanded everyone to bow their heads before him. Lucian stepped forward and uttered his refusal. In his fury, the new ruler commanded the vampires to kill and behead him.

After witnessing Lucian’s horrible death, an outburst of anger emerged from the werewolves. The new ruler ordered death to anyone who opposed him, and the runaways were marked as rebels. Lucian’s wife was buried alive and died broken over her family’s heart-wrenching fate.

 When the next blue crescent moon was about to ascend, the laboring mothers were slaughtered to death by an unseen force that prevented the birth of their new ruler. The living ruler offered the souls of the unborn children to the darkness as a sacrifice.

Everyone was quiet while Arthur was telling the story to his team in the camp. The forest was dark, and Madison was quite a coward. She pretended to be interested to ease her fears.

“Wait, so . . . does that mean that the vampire ruler lived forever?” she asked.

“Yes and no. When the ruler made a deal with the darkness, he was told to create an essential in exchange for immortality,” Arthur answered.

“An essential?” everyone chorused.

“Shh! Careful. Mrs. Shaw might hear us. She will definitely put us all to sleep if we wake her up, and I might not be able to finish my story,” Arthur said.

“What is an essential?” Sally whispered.

“It’s a mixture of all bloods—humans, witches, wolves, vampires. He killed them all and mixed their blood for him to drink,” Arthur responded, and everyone gasped. “Once he drinks the mixture, that’s when the darkness possesses his body.

“Gross!” Hannah exclaimed quietly. “So, the ruler did become immortal.”

“That leads to the answer yes—as a living corpse,” Arthur replied.

“A living corpse?” everyone said in unison.

“Wait. If they were all dead, then he could be the only one who lived, right?” Adrian said.

“No, because some have escaped. The rebels, remember?” Arthur answered.

“Okay.  So, the ruler finally had all of the things needed to claim his immortality . . . What happened next?” Sally asked.

“I have mixed all the blood as you instructed me to do,” the ruler said, bowing his head on the ground with a cup in his hand.

“Drink,” a deep, thundering voice echoed.

The ruler closed his eyes and lifted the cup slowly. When the rim touched his mouth, the cup was suddenly snatched from him. When he opened his eyes, he was bewildered to see Lucian’s wife, gulping the cup’s content like a thirsty beast looking at him with bright red eyes. His body froze in shock and couldn’t even utter a word. When the cup was empty, Lucian’s wife sank her fangs into his neck in a blink of an eye and talked to him through his mind.

You moron. Didn’t you know that the spell won’t work without your blood? Tadaaa! You’ve been fooled, and I couldn’t thank you enough for doing me the favor. Thank you for making me immortal.

The ruler’s eyes turned black as his power emerged, but he struggled to escape from her hold. Lucian’s wife was incredibly strong he couldn’t even make a single move. Furious, he called for his power to release fire from his body, burning her slowly; but her fangs sank deeper and deeper until his powers ran dry.

Her clothes were burned into ashes it left her naked. His body became pale and began to shrink into all skin and bones, popping his eyes. When his blood was completely drained, he fell on to the ground as Lucian’s wife looked at him with intense hunger for vengeance. She knelt on her knee and looked at the ruler’s tormented eyes.

“Did you really think I am dead, my king?” she said before catching a glimpse of her body, regenerating at a tremendous rate than an ordinary human eye could see.

How did you . . .

“Live? Oh, I had vampire blood in my veins when you buried me alive, thanks to you. Let me tell you my secret.” She moved her lips close to the ruler’s ears and whispered. “I am a wolf-witch-turned-vampire whatever you call it . . . hybrid, crossbreed . . . it doesn’t matter. Truth is, I know the formula of all essentials, and I can give you immortality without murdering every living creature that breathes—without murdering my family. But you have been cunning, ambitious, and evil that you killed my husband before my very eyes just because my son was wolf less, and you took the power when you are not worthy of such honor and respect.”

You will pay for this.

“Oh, there’s nothing you can do, my king. Tonight, you shall die in my hands.” Lucian’s wife snapped her finger, and out came a wooden dagger.

 “Ecxessus,” she whispered before stabbing him into his chest.

The ruler’s body froze as his skin melted before morphing into a statue. His eyeballs finally fell from its sockets as his presence dissipated, let alone the mind link.

Victorious, Lucian’s wife licked the bloodstain on the dagger and smirked before disappearing into the darkness.

“Wow. That’s such an amazing story, Arthur,” Sally said, burning a stick.

An applause was heard as Arthur stood up. “Thank you.”

“I hope it isn’t true. I’m scared of the dark,” Madison said, looking around the woods.

“Really? Then why did you join this camp?” Adrian moved closer to Madison with a flashlight illuminating under his chin. When Madison met his face, she screamed at the top of her voice.

The campers were awoken from their slumber and went out from their tents including Mrs. Shaw.

“What in the world was that about?” Mrs. Shaw asked angrily. She too must have been awakened from her dreams in her pajamas.

“Who was it?” She asked everyone in the camp, but no one answered. “All leaders come to me, now!” she shouted.

Every one of us looked at each other as silenced clothed the air. Connie, Arthur, Rea, and Jeanna walked slowly towards the displeased Mrs. Shaw. Their faces seemed to reflect in her glasses even in the dark of the night.

“Who was it? I am so disappointed for choosing you as leaders of your groups when you can’t even control your team. Have you forgotten the rules in this camp?” she said as she took her steps towards each of them. “What is the first rule, Connie?”

“Stick together and help everyone in need.”

“How about the second rule? Rea?”

“Respect.”

“The third rule. Jeanna?”

“Sleep before midnight.”

“And the last rule? Arthur?”

“Honesty,” Arthur replied, lowering his head. “Mrs. Shaw, we were just telling bedtime stories. I think we got carried away . . . Please forgive us.”

“Bedtime stories?” Mrs. Shaw chuckled. “So, Arthur, who broke the third rule?” she asked, but Arthur didn’t respond. “If silence is the answer, then who broke the last rule?”

“Mrs. Shaw, I—”

“It was me, Mrs. Shaw.” Madison stood up. “I’m sorry. Ah . . . a m-mosquito bit me, and I screamed. It won’t happen again.”

“A mosquito,” Mrs. Shaw confirmed.

“Yes Mrs. Shaw. A mosquito. I know it’s stupid, but I’m sorry,” Madison said, fidgeting.

“Really? Does a mosquito bite make you scream like a banshee?” she asked which made the campers laugh loudly.

“Quiet!” Mrs. Shaw raised her voice before looking at everyone who froze to silence. “And what is your bedtime story all about, Arthur? The Boy Who Cried Wolf? Little Red Riding Hood? Hansel and Gretel?”

The campers chuckled silently.

“No Mrs. Shaw. It’s about the . . . uhm . . . The last wolf witch who lived for centuries and . . . was thought to be alive until now, “Arthur answered, looking at the silent Mrs. Shaw.

 “I mean, ah . . . I just read it in the library that this town used to be occupied by werewolves, vampire, humans, and wi—” he continued while the others held their stomachs, trying to prevent their laughter to burst.

“Seriously, Arthur? I thought grandmas are the only ones who loved to tell stories,” one of the campers interrupted before giving him a smirk. Murmurs and soft laughter could be heard from the other campers.

“Yeah, my grandma used to tell me bedtime stories about Santa Clause even if it’s not Christmas.” Another camper chuckled.

“That’s enough!” Mrs. Shaw moved towards Arthur. “I admire your love for research, Arthur, and thank you for sharing a fantasy bedtime story to your team. But for now, all of you, go back to sleep, and never get out until I say so!” she shouted and pointed her forefinger at everyone before marching towards her tent.

“Arthur, what happened next?” Sally got up and whispered as she was unable to drift into the land of dreams.

“Go to sleep,” everybody chorused.

Sally looked at them before rolling her eyes and covering herself with a blanket.

When everyone was in a deep sleep, Madison heard a tiny voice from afar. The voice seemed to be crying in pain. She looked at the others, thinking one of them was crying but no one was. She could even hear the boys snoring. Unable to tame her curiosity, she crawled slowly and went out from the tent.

Despite the cold air, she followed the tiny voice leading to the deepest part of the woods. When she reached the darkest part of the forest, her heartbeat started racing.

“Oh my god, why am I here? How did I get here?”

She moved her feet backwards and looked around. Without thinking which way would lead her out, she entrusted her life to the moonlight as her only guide and ran as fast as she could until she found herself catching for breath. She rested against a tree to grasp for air. When she was ready to move again and run, she was met by huge black eyes, popping out of its sockets. Frightened, she screamed at the top of her lungs. She was so terrified that all she could do was close her eyes and squeal uncontrollably.

“Madison!” Sally slapped her in the face, making her stop and open her eyes. She looked at Sally, Adrian, and Arthur who were looking at her. “You’re dreaming,” the three chorused.

“What in the world is happening!?” Mrs. Shaw’s irritating voice was heard outside.

“Ugh. Not again,” Arthur utered while the others facepalmed.

***

“You should thank me for saving your life, father,” an invisible female voice said. “You must be celebrating, I suppose. I lost count of how many blue moons have passed and nobody has replaced you. You’re still the same ruler whom the creatures submit themselves and bow their heads to even in your disgusting form. Ah, I wish I was born male. I could have lived as the most powerful being in this world. How shameful of you to die in the hands of that aweful witch. But don’t worry, father. That witch Ambrosia shall die in my hands, and I will offer her blood to the darkness as a sacrifice for your homecoming. Then you shall acquire your revenge.”

The ruler’s hardened corpse  floated into the air as if someone was carrying him and was placed inside a wooden coffin with his name carved on it: Gorgon, The Immortal.

“You shall live again, father,” the voice said before the coffin was closed and locked.