The Siring

It was July the 18th when Vincent woke up in the early hours of the morning the sky was a deep crimson the shade of blood and he knew that last night blood had been spilled.
Keeping his morning tasks the same he awoke got dressed in his plain clothing, and grabbed some bread and water to eat for his breakfast. Once done eating he said good-bye to his wife and left his house. Every morning he would walk through the fields and town before going to tend to his crops and this morning would be no different.
But upon entering the town the was a look of solemn fear on the faces of many of the towns residence, some where seen boarding up there houses, this was unusual. They where not back at war again, where they? The fear of war drove Vincent to travel to the blacksmith who would of known what was going on, he hated the idea of forced recruitment but he hated the army more…after the rape and destruction of his family. He moved swiftly through the streets almost jogging and not stopping till he got to the old wooden barn that was now the Smithies shop.
Vincent’s large fists banged heavily down onto the door a loud ‘crack’ as the blacksmith moved to look at Vincent. His hands coming to rub his tired eyes as Vincent towered over him.
Blacksmith: “What can I help you with at this hour Vincent?”
Vincent WarR: “The Town what has become of it? The women seem scarred and the men are fortifying their houses. What happened in the night?”
The blacksmith paused for a long moments his face a wash with a mixture of expressions as he spoke. “It is best you come in and sit down, I will explain it to you inside away from prying eyes and ears.”
Vincent let out a slow nod as his hands came up to cross over his body, folding them as he walked fourth and let his foot hook the door - pulling it shut before he moved over to the table. Planting his body down upon the seat as his eyes fell heavily upon the form of the blacksmith.
Vincent was the first to speak, pushing the topic: “What happened in the night? What has them so scared?”
And with that the black smith started: “ In the early hours of the night screams were heard rattling fourth from one of the houses - the near by neighbours panicked and the screams grew louder…nobody tried to do anything but they watched as three men and a woman dragged the bodies off into the country side. I fear the beasts where of the devil‘s spawn. We are aiming to defend our fair village from them at all costs.”
“Defend it how? If these beasts really are the spawn of the devil what do us men hope to do against them?” a look of anger flushed fourth over Vincent’s face it was like the night long ago upon the hillside where he met those things.
“The priest and any able man will be asked to defend the city in the name of god. I…I…will build the armour for them - shape it to there form and sharpen the blades. Vincent don‘t be rash in your judgement. Any God loving man can destroy vial spawn of Lucifer.”
Vincent let his head fall down, slowly nodding as he turned from the blacksmith sighing before words trickled out from his mouth.“I will do my part in helping fight them - I am the only one of the men who served in the Army. I am the only able bodied man with any military training.”
Vincent headed towards the exit of the blacksmiths shop, fingers coiling around the old metal handle as the man spoke to him: “I will send word to you soon. Vincent, don’t fret and worry - God will protect those who deserve it.”
Vincent walked out almost ‘tuting’ at the words the foolish Blacksmith did say…if such things where true why was his family not saved? Long nights went passes as more people - children where dragged from the village to be consumed by the ‘demons’.
Long painful days rolled fourth, the streets of the town dead at night as screams echoed throughout all of the City limits…scaring the citizens…keeping us locked inside from the glory that could of awaited us. By July the 25th word had came to me from the Blacksmith. And inside the small Church we a group of ‘want to be heroes’ assembled. Four men and the Priest, all that would come to the villages aid. A sad sight indeed.
But never the less we took heed in the words the Priest said…oh I remember his words well.
‘Come brothers of God, disciples, martyrs. You will help the City, this world, and me by thwarting the evil that does lay over yonder hill.’ and stupidly we followed him into a mock battle. We where like lambs to the slaughter.
After nearly an hour of walking we fell upon a small glen, over grown shrugs and mounds of earth - we knew this was where they where camped out. We could tell by the stench of death and the foul smell of decay but they where not here - they rested beneath us but we had no clue. So we hid, waited, bided our time as we foolishly prayed to the wrong God. Caine was almighty that day not Jehovah.
The last thing I clearly remember was the sun setting - a sky a drift with burgundy, the last time I would ever watch the sun set in the Sky. Little did I know I was following a fool who didn’t even worship God? Little did I know none of the men who stood strong had done battle before. They where boys fighting a mans war. But still we waited.
A little after sundown the ground of their encampments began to almost rumble, it may seem odd but it felt as if the earth was shaking beneath us - and one by one they clawed fourth, hands coming out to grasp the brown earth as they pulled themselves forward. It was the stuff of legend. And we attacked the Priest held his cross aloft as the one who I later found out to be known as Egor, simple laughed.
The Priest mouthing off words as ‘Demon be gone’ now it brings a chuckle to my lips to find out the man we all respected holds as much faith in God as I do. Egor, slapped the cross aside - simple lusting fourth to grapple the Old mans body and biting down hard on it. The first time I ever watched a vampire feeding - the first time I ever knew what a vampire was. The loud ‘crack’ as teeth parted and pushed fourth, breaking the immaculate white skin. A gargling noise coming fourth as blood poured into the mouth of Egor and the throat of Father Iheme.
This was Egor’s doing, for Joshua swung his sword towards the mans back as did I. The steel cut fourth easily as the man let out a loud howl…the beast almost surfacing before another sword strike destroyed him. The elder, who sired Rachel my Grandsire. Was brought down in a volley of blows from our swords as Rachel and Helge rushed for the other man. Our friend was overpowered as claws began to grow from Rachel’s fingertips. Like the Talon’s of a wolf. Slowly the claws scraped at his flesh, ripping straight through the leather that protected him before he was left upon the ground. A heap of blood and guts. Nothing more of less. His body was left in such a state none would ever recognise it again.
So there we stood, two simple Kine against two elders of the Gangrel - but we stood our ground. Rachel rushed fourth for my friend as I swung sword for the throat of Helge. I was lucky; the blade cut deep and left a gash across his throat. The force of the blow knocked him off balance. But luckily for me my ally was not so good. He sword shot missed. Rachel ploughed fists through the steel that was meant to protect his chest. Slicing right through the layers out of skin as a revolting smash rattled fourth. Its noise still scaring my ears. But her hands where caught and I took the chance to finish off Helge. Standing over him I pushed my sword down in one last violent stab. The point sliced cleanly through the linen of his top and out the other side. But little to my knowledge Rachel was free.
Her hand came down, hard, landing on the back of my head as I stumbled fourth rolling but the weight of my armour ruined the chances of getting up. On my back I lay with the Fiend in tears. I had destroyed her Sire and her Childer. She was now lost in the world. Or at least I thought so.
A volley of blows came down onto my chest from her closed fists. Dents upon the armour. She could have easily killed me but she was enjoying that. She was enjoying tormenting me with pain like no other. The night drifted on. I was trapped under the beast for hours as she destroyed my body. Before finally she placed her lips down onto my throat. It was like nothing else as fangs pierced through my skin. It hurt for nothing more then a second, as I lay paralysed in bliss. The orgasmic reaction as my body shuddered, the blood pouring fourth as she did something I never expected. She removed her lips. Laughed as she watched the blood trickle out of me. Droplet, by droplet falling to the snow with a ‘splash’. My eyes drifted off as I felt it…cold liquid start to pour into my mouth. I tried to fight it, but her hand grasped my jaw. Held it open. And then finally that was it. I was lost of this world. Gone from the mortal coil of existence.