Carpathian 08 - Dark Legend

he settled to the ground, he stared in astonishment at the huge contraptions that had disturbed the sleep of centuries. Those contraptions, so alien to him, had awakened a demon so deadly the world could never comprehend its power. Those contraptions had unleashed that demon upon the modern world. Gabriel took a deep breath, inhaled the night. At once he was assaulted by so many smells, his starving body could barely assimilate them all.
    Hunger ate at him unmercifully, relentlessly, and he realized with a sinking heart that he was so close to turning, he had precious little control. When he was forced to feed, the demon in him would rise. Nevertheless he had no real choice in the matter. He had to have sustenance to hunt. If he did not hunt Lucian, protect humans and Carpathians alike, who would?
    Gabriel drew the thick cloak closer around his body as he staggered through the graveyard. He could see where the machines had disturbed the earth. Apparently the grave sites were being dug up and removed. He found the spot, just outside the sanctified ground, where the soil had boiled up out of the earth as Lucian had risen. For a moment he sank down on his knees to bury both hands in the dirt.
    Lucian. His brother. His twin. He bowed his head in sorrow. How often had they shared knowledge? Shared battles? Blood? Nearly two thousand years they had been together, fought for their people, hunted the undead and destroyed them. Now he was alone. Lucian was the legendary warrior, the greatest of their people, yet he had fallen as so many had before him. Gabriel would have bet his life that his twin would never have succumbed to the dark whisper of power.
    Gabriel stood up slowly and began to walk toward the street. The long years that had gone by had changed the world. Everything was different. He understood none of it. He was so disoriented, even his sight was hazy. He stumbled along, trying to stay away from the people crowding the streets. They were everywhere and they avoided touching him. He touched their minds briefly. They thought him an
    "old homeless man," perhaps a drunk or even insane. No one looked his way, no one wanted to see him. He was shriveled, his skin gray.
    He drew the long cloak even closer, hiding his withered body within its folds.
    Hunger assailed his senses so that his fangs exploded in his mouth and dripped with anticipation of a feast. He needed nourishment desperately. Stumbling, almost blind, he continued along the street. The city was so different, no longer the Paris of old, but a huge sprawling complex of buildings and paved streets. Lights were blazing from the interior of the massive structures and from street lamps overhead. It was not the city he remembered or with which he was comfortable.
    He should have caught the nearest prey and fed voraciously to bring him instant strength, but the dread of being unable to stop himself was uppermost in his mind. He must not allow the beast to control him. He had a sworn duty to his people, to the human race, but most importantly to his beloved brother. Lucian had been his hero, the one he placed above all others, and deservedly so. They had taken a vow together and he would honor it as Lucian would have done for him. No other hunter would be allowed to destroy his brother; it was his task alone.
    The smell of blood was overpowering. It beat at him with the same intensity as his hunger. The sound of it rushing through veins, ebbing and flowing, burgeoning with life, taunted him. In his present state of weakness he would be unable to control his prey, to keep his victim calm. That would only add to the power of the demon rising.
    "Sir, may I help you in some way? Are you ill?" It was the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. She spoke in flawless French, her accent perfect, but he was uncertain whether she was actually French. To his amazement, her words brought him comfort, as if her voice alone could soothe him.
    Gabriel shuddered. The last thing he wanted was to feast on an innocent woman. Without looking at her, he shook his head and continued walking. He was so weak he stumbled against her. She was tall and slender and surprisingly strong. Immediately she wrapped her arm around him, ignoring his musty, dirty odor. The moment she touched him he felt a sense of peace seeping into his tortured soul. The unrelenting hunger lessened and as long as she was touching him, he felt a semblance of control.
    Deliberately he kept his face averted from her,