New Beginnings

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
It is an unknown amount of time since the incidents in Boston and we begin to see the aftermath of the portal being openned but more questions arise than answers...

Submitted: April 18, 2015

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Submitted: April 18, 2015



New Beginnings

“The Nine Keys”

In the final century of the dark ages,

When mankind fought against and alongside the creatures of the night,

Nine daemonic generals stood above all in the dark.

They opened gates and paths through armies that were impossible.

At the end of the ages, they were sealed to hell and earth,

To save the fate of all in the middle realm.


The first key is the Beast:

Undying and savage.

The second key is the Ravager:

Berserk and brutal.

The third key is the Juggernaut:

Robust and relentless.

The fourth key is the Siren:

Screaming for all eternity.

Key five lays claim,

To all magic of the darkness.

Key six is immaterial,

A glimpse or shadow.

Key seven strikes from within,

The heart and the soul

The eighth key:

The Betrayer of all hell.

The final key of nine:

The master in the dark.


“Lucy, Lucy, LUCY,” Mr. Rotraine’s yelling snaps the 18 year old from her daydream and she looks up at the board. The class erupts in a roar of laughter and she groans and buries her face in her hands. She looks down at her paper and see’s that she’s done it again, written this poem of nonsense and colored the paper around it black again.

“Sorry Mr. Rotraine,” she looks up at the teacher and fixes her blonde hair around her left ear. She adjusts her hearing aid and sighs: the battery is dead again. “The battery died again.” He shakes his head and sighs.

“My mistake,” Mr. Rotraine looks to another student and asks him the question instead.

Lucy glances up at the window to her right and looks out at the school courtyard. Her eyes refocus and she sees the scarred left side of her face and instantly looks back down. Her cheeks grow red and her eyes fill with tears simply thinking about how one night could ruin her life before she even graduated high school.

The bell rings and everyone except for Lucy begins to get up. Mr. Rotraine walks to the crying girl and taps her arm gently.

“Lucy?” he says a little loud so she can hear. She looks up revealing the tears on her face, desk, and the paper she wrote and draw on. His eyes open wide as he sees what she has written.

“Yes Mr. Rotraine?” she attempts to cease her crying but with no luck.

“It’s still hard to deal with it isn’t it?” He asks taking a few steps back. She nods and wipes her eyes. “What’s that you have there?” He points to the piece of paper casually trying not to show his full interest in it.

“It’s stupid,” the girl snivels and holds it up. “Ever since I got attacked I hear this in my dreams and day dreams. It might be from a movie or something.” She offers it out to her teacher who takes it and begins to read it.

“It’s very interesting,” he crosses his arms and smiles.  “And it does sound like something from a horror movie or a book or television show. Would you mind if I kept it? My sister is very much into this sort of thing. I like to tease her about it.” Lucy smiles a little and lets out a single laugh.

“Yea that’s fine,” she says and packs her books and leaves the classroom. As the door shuts he looks at the paper again, his face is serious and analytical. He pulls out his cellphone and dials a number.

“Stephen, its Andrew. I need to show you something.”


Angel launches a bolt of golden energy from her staff, knocking the imp from the air. She leaps forward and stomps on it, planting her foot on its chest.

“I send thee back to hell,” she yells driving her staff into the small demon’s head. It disappears in a cloud of black smoke, leaving the smell of brimstone in the air and a small pile of grey ash on the ground. “Annoying thing.” She sighs and puts her staff back onto her charm bracelet next to a shield and a mace. She continues walking down the dark barely populated street. Neon lights flash from an alley that she turns down and the sound of excessive bass can be heard and felt.

A line of men stand in front of what was once an old warehouse but is now a center for raves and dark magic alike. She sighs and undoes the ponytail in her hair, causing it to fall on her white dress. She walks towards the door in her heels and smiles slightly at the bouncer as she approaches. He nods in his white suit jacket and opens the door allowing her in and leaving the men outside staring at her in awe and anger.

The music is loud and the lights are low except for different color strobe lights and spotlights illuminating women dancing in cages hung from the ceiling. Loud electronic music reverberates through the massive warehouse and people walk around with alcohol and pills in their hands. A passing man offers Angel some of both she simply shakes her head. She makes for the center of the dance floor and searches around with her eyes.

“He’s got to be here,” she mumbles to herself searching around without making herself obvious. From behind her she can feel eyes piercing the back of her head. She quickly turns around and sees a man staring at her. He wears a black t-shirt, two crossed scythes behind a red skull in the center, black jeans and sunglasses. Tattoos of skulls and scythes cover his arms. She smiles briefly and then turns back around, dissatisfied.

The image on his t-shirt flashes in her mind again and she turns around quickly, searching for him again but to no avail. Suddenly an ear shattering scream comes from a balcony above the dance floor along with the body of a teenage girl with long blonde hair.

Angel runs to the body in hopes of being able to save her but her neck is broken and her skull and brain matter litter the dance floor and people around her. Angel’s dress has spatters of blood and brains on it. Angel quickly looks up at all the balconies, searching for anyone who looks out of place.


Two men dressed in all white chase a girl wearing a black dress across one of the balconies. She is only keeping distance because she can duck in and out of the crowd faster than the two bodybuilder looking men. She runs down the stairs inside the warehouse and out the open emergency door. Now on the street she runs as hard as she can, her knee-high boots not made for running in the slightest. She looks over her shoulder and screams, seeing the two men gaining speed as the clouds uncover the full moon.

“Shit, shit, YES!” she yells as she sees a graveyard across the street. She runs to the graveyard, running between gravestones and mausoleums, looking for a newly dug grave. She glances over her shoulder again and sees the men’s eyes growing a bright, sickly yellow.

Her feet fly up behind her as she trips over a tree root and lands face down on dirt. She curses herself and then smiles. she thinks. She plunges her hand into the earth and sends a powerful surge of energy into the ground. She pulls her hand out and rolls to her left just as an arm crushes the grave stone from behind her. The two men are now ripping out of their white suits, fur growing on their massive arms.

She looks up at them and screams, cursing herself for her magic not working. She looks past the two werewolves and sees a glint of light in the sky, brighter than a star.

Angel drives her staff downward into the heart of one the werewolves. It howls in pain and then slumps to the ground. The holy warrior calls her sword from her charm bracelet and stabs the second werewolf in the throat, his reactions to slow to do anything. He yelps in pain and scurries off to die on its own. Angel puts her weapons away and looks down at the young girl.

She wears a black gothic style dress and black knee-high boots. She is very thin and pale and her hair is dyed blue and stops at just above her shoulders. On her neck is a pendant with a skull and a number “13” engraved on it. Angel offers her hand out to both help the girl up and read her aura.

“Angel,” She introduces herself as the girl takes her hand and pulls herself up.

“Katie,” the girl says confused and awe struck. “Katie Rotraine.” 

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