Esiel was a child who grew up in a peaceful family, with peaceful settings, in a peaceful environment and a peaceful country. He never knew what it meant to lose what was of great importance. In fact, he was able to grow to a ripe old age and only know at the very worse the loss of income and a young grandchild who had high fever. The war came to the Kelthar Empire. Blood flowed freely during that time and steel was the sound that awoke them in the morning. A vampire heard the whimper of Esiel's great-grandchild amidst the screams of victims and growls of werewolves. It first peered through the window of the barricaded, darkened house wary of weapons posed to thrust straight into its eyes. Malice was felt from the occupants inside but it was not strong, not like those who lost people dear and thus bore great hatred towards the other races on earth. The whimper came again. The child's mother consoled him as softly as she bravely could. It wasn't enough. Ordering a lowly werewolf to tear a hole in the wall, the vampire coolly watched at the half-beast was run through by a trap. With as little light as was available at that moment, the vampire saw the family of about eight crowding the darkest corner of what was a safe hold. At that moment it turned into a death hole, with the back door barricaded as strongly as the wall the werewolf had torn down.
Esiel's son and son-in-law tightened their grips and charged at the vampire with military spears picked up from the battlefield. He helplessly watched as his son crumpled to the floor, his heart torn out, and his younger son-in-law blinded, unable to defend himself and only able to feel the vampire’s teeth sink into his neck before crumpling to the floor. It would be harsh to further describe the deaths of the other members of his family, but understand that for Esiel, the old man who had lived life naively, this was the true turning point in his life. It did not last long, however. As two sharp fangs pierced the skin of his neck, Esiel’s mind went numb with fear, more so as he felt the life drain from his body. A victim usually dies from the blood drainage immediately, however, Esiel’s mind force the soul to remain just so that he could take one last glance upon his killer.
The vampire wiped its mouth, the warmth and delectable taste of blood on is tongue. That last wrinkly old man had a bit of a funny taste, but it was probably just the age. Then, it started feeling dizzy. Perhaps it had just fed on too much too quickly. Then, its knees gave way, buckling under the weight of his unexpectedly heavy body even though vampires were known to weight lighter than a human child. The vampire coughed and hacked, feeling its bile rising up and the blood he fed on vomit out. Or was it its own blood? It then fell, unconscious at first, and soon, void of consciousness.
Esiel’s lips widened that slight bit as a grin, the very last act his body could accomplish before the life in his eyes finally faded. The small vial of poison fell from his lifeless hand with gravity’s pull.
