Vampires Realm Prophecy 01 - Child of Light

vampire could enter a private place owned by one without an invitation. He tried to see into the room through the crack but it was too dimly lit to make anything out. Signalling for Prophecy to stay put, he pushed the door open and stepped into the apartment.
    He stopped dead as it hit him and he covered his mouth. For the first time in nearly three centuries, he felt like retching.
    The air was heavy with the scent of rancid blood. The coppery smell of it was tinged with death and decay, causing his stomach to lurch as he breathed it in, practically tasting it on the edge of his senses.
    He fought the temptation to breathe and moved further into the room, his hand still covering his mouth. He held his other hand up when Prophecy started to follow him and shook his head. She probably hadn’t caught the scent of death yet and it was better that she didn’t. He didn’t know how she’d take it. He found a lamp and turned it on, glancing at Prophecy.
    Her eyes widened as she stared at the floor and he looked there too. There was a trail of blood leading across the living room and as he followed it, he noticed the blood streaked across the walls. It made them look as though they had been scratched and were bleeding.
    He moved stealthily across the room, letting his instincts guide him towards where the scent was strongest. He stared at the door ahead of him and edged towards it, uncertain of whether he really wanted to see what it contained. He slipped into his vampire guise, trying to use the extra boost it gave his senses to see if anyone was in the room waiting to attack, but they were too full of the scent of rancid blood. His teeth receded, his face shifting back into its human form. He listened intently for a sign of someone as he approached the room.
    Stepping in front of the door, he looked into the room long enough to know that the ones responsible had been gone a long time and then turned his back on it. He closed his eyes, shutting out the sight of the carnage for fear of being sick. He could feel Prophecy’s eyes boring into him.
    “What is it?” she said from the threshold of the apartment.
    He could hear her footsteps on the soft carpet, could sense her approach, but couldn’t move quick enough to stop her.
    “Don’t... ” He raised his head and shook it, hoping she’d listen to him.
    “Why?” She frowned at him, searching his eyes for the reason he didn’t want her to come any closer.
    “You do not want to see this,” he said and grabbed her shoulders when she stepped up to him, holding them tightly in an attempt to stop her from seeing past him into the room.
    She peered over his shoulder and her eyes widened in shock, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. The colour seemed to drain from her face. He pushed her away and she turned, running for the door as fast as she could.
    He listened to her retching in the hall and steeled himself before turning to look at the room again.
    It was carnage. It looked as though it could have been three men originally. Their bodies were battered and mutilated, their flesh slashed open and torn apart. Blood covered the floor and drenched the sheets until it was a sea of red. It was splattered across the walls. There were deep grooves in the plaster where it had been broken in the fight.
    Valentine stared at one of the men. His right arm had been torn out of the socket and his face had been smashed in. The other two men had suffered a similar fate of being mauled to death and having their skulls crushed. Looking down at the one nearest to him, Valentine could see the maggots crawling over his broken flesh and it looked as though he’d been gnawed on, partially eaten by whatever had done this to them.
    Valentine stared blankly at them.
    He didn’t need this kind of setback.
    Turning away from the room, he walked over to Prophecy. She was bent over in the hall with her hands pressed into the wall. She was breathing heavily. His brows furrowed when he sensed her distress and he went to her. He rubbed her back gently, not knowing what else he could do to soothe her.
    When she straightened up at last, he led her down the hall. He took long deep breaths and tried to clear his senses of the smell of rotting meat and blood. Looking across at Prophecy, he felt sorry for her when he saw she was still struggling against her desire to be sick. He’d only ever thrown up once since becoming a vampire. With nothing in his stomach but remnants of undigested blood, it had