The Awakening of Blood

The sky above Hallowstone was choked with clouds, gray and heavy, casting a dull silver light over the quiet town below. It was the kind of afternoon that settled over the city like a secret, waiting to be discovered. The streets were nearly empty, except for a few students shuffling toward Hallowstone High—just another ordinary day in an extraordinary place that had long forgotten its own history. Elysia stood at the edge of town, just beyond the gates of the old cemetery. Her eyes—dark as obsidian, yet burning with a faint crimson glow—swept over the skyline with something between awe and disgust. Five hundred years asleep. Five hundred years of silence, death, and darkness. She was awake now. And no one in Hallowstone had the faintest idea what that meant. She wore black—always black—tight leather pants, boots laced to her knees, and a long coat that swept the ground as she moved. Her hair fell in cascading waves, and her skin, pale like moonlight, glowed faintly in the gloom. She looked twenty, but she carried the weight of centuries in her posture, her gaze, her very breath. She walked with purpose, each step echoing power and elegance, until the faint sound of voices pulled her gaze toward the town square. And there, setting up chairs for a local charity event, was a girl. Lily. The girl was young, no more than sixteen. Her long chestnut hair was pulled into a ponytail, her oversized hoodie marked with paint splatters and stickers. She laughed softly with the other volunteers, brushing her hands together after setting a table upright. Elysia stared. Something about her... it tugged. It wasn’t power. It wasn’t magic. It was the way she moved, the gentleness in her eyes, the innocence so many had lost. It reminded Elysia of something buried deep, something human—something before. Before she had become the thing everyone feared. Before the blood. Before the curse. She stepped closer, silent as shadow. Lily turned, startled by the figure watching her. Their eyes locked. "Can I help you?" Lily asked, her voice soft but confident. Elysia tilted her head, studying her. "You remind me of someone I once knew." Lily blinked, uncertain how to respond. She glanced at the woman’s strange clothing, at her ageless face. “Do you… need something?” Elysia smiled, a small, private thing. “No. Not yet.” And then she vanished, slipping into the mist like a ghost. Lily looked around, confused, but no one else had noticed. Later that night, the mist rolled in thicker than usual. And under the pale moonlight, something stirred in the woods. A scream. Bones cracking. A werewolf's curse breaking free. Kieran Grave clutched his side as the change began—his first full moon. Agony twisted his limbs. The cave echoed with his cries, pain painting the air. Then, she appeared. Elysia. She watched him with eyes full of calculation, then knelt beside him. With a flick of her wrist, dark magic pulsed through the cave, and the transformation slowed. “You don’t want to feel this every month, do you?” He shook his head, breathless. “Then follow me. For life.” His answer came in a desperate whisper: “Yes.” And the pact was made. The awakening had begun.