This new paranormal story is now well underway, halfway into the first draft. I'm enjoying digging into an old fashioned vampire tale.
In this book, we see the vampires are removed from the human world except to hunt. They have their own society, and because most are at least a century old, they have a different way of conducting themselves. At over one thousand years old, Heriolf in particular hearkens back to a time when brutality was the way to make one's mark in the world. He has not gotten beyond this mindset in all his centuries, preferring to use force over politics to rule the vampires.
As for the ‘king’ – Elisha’s lip curled at that title before he could stop himself – well, Heriolf was more a dictator, a vicious tyrant that no one could depose. Yet.
Despite telling himself not to be a fool, Elisha couldn’t help but glance at Heriolf seated at the head of the room, the intricately carved chair indeed resembling a throne. Despise him as he might, Elisha had to admit the 1300-year old vampire was an intimidating sight. Heriolf might have inspired legends of the Viking gods that he himself had once prayed to. Well over six feet tall, massive with muscle he showed off by not wearing a shirt beneath the red cape with the gold clasp, he commanded fear if not respect. Crystalline blue eyes swept those who had gathered at his order. The forward part of his thick gray hair had been twined into two braids to frame his craggy face; the rest hung loose down his back. A matching gray mustache and beard, also braided, made his fierce face even more bestial. Old in his day, Heriolf had still been hale and hearty when he’d been made vampire at the age of forty-eight.
Elisha felt bile rise in his throat and turned his eyes away.
No comments:
Post a Comment