Blood Stained

“He exists.” The old Vampire croaked. A certain musk hung about him, his face was lit up by the flickering of the flames in the fireplace.
“How do you know this?” John Fredrick said. The leader of the Alpha squadron.
It is their unfortunate task, and duty to search for the prodigal son and beg for his help. The team consists of Three werewolves. Damon Furtree, the oldest out of the three. He no longer needs the full moon’s assistance to shift a change. He has mastered his molecular formation and so can turn at will. Lorna Furtree. The only female out of the three. A wife to both Damon and Mitchell. Werewolf customs usually have three males to one female. This is in hopes of having a genetically perfect wolf. The most admirable aspect from each parent combined into one organism. A werewolf’s molecular control allows them to ‘splice’ genetics so as to make this possible. The final wolf is Mitchell Dayton. The youngest by about ten years. Hasn’t quite grasped molecular formation but still can change when all his concentration is on the subject, other than that he needs the moons assistance.

There are two Vampires and one Dhampir. Nathaniel Bigurt and Marcus Byrone. Nathaniel happens to be the only ‘pure blood’ of the group. Pure blood meaning he was born. Not turned. Two Vampires can produce an offspring. But the chances are highly improbable. There is approximately a two in ten chance of a Vampire producing an offspring with another Vampire.
Marcus was turned. His once bright, blonde hair has dulled into a darkened shade of yellow and his eyes now an icy blue. Kiera Sharp. A half-breed. Father was a Vampire and mother was human. Both died by unknown causes. She joined the armed forces in hopes of finding the reason why her parents were killed. She knows she most likely won’t find out. But a spark of hope in her fiery eyes signals that there is still a chance.

John Fredrick and Kayla Moon are the only humans on the team. And as such, are the only ones to carry firearms. Vampires are bound by honour, not to use any long range weapon over the age of two years turned. Werewolves live by the same rule.
Half-breeds have a choice. Being half human, they have a choice to follow the ways of man. Or the ways of their opposites. They cannot choose both.

“Because I have seen him.” The Vampire said, his leather chair moaned as he adjusted himself.
“You understand we cannot just take your word for it?”
“I understand. But it is true. He stood, cloaked, on the tall building not a mile north from here. Looking down on the town. Watching. Waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
“I didn’t ask” The Vampire chuckled. Damon growled, and Kiera shuffled her feet in response. “Oh, is the mutt growing impatient?” He toyed. Damon sniffed sharply and looked down his nose at the Vampire.
“When was this sighting?” John asked, sensing that things could get rough.
“Around 2010”
“That was over two hundred years ago”
“I can count. You asked if and when I had seen him. You didn’t say if it was recently.” The Vampire mused, the corners of his mouth upturned in a grin, and the tips of his fangs peeked out over his bottom lip.
Marcus stood up, his chair scraped across the floor as he charged towards the Vampire. But he laughed as Marcus’s grip tightened around his throat.
“You’ve wasted our time. Tell us what else you know” He growled, His icy blue eyes drilling into the Vampires own, red ones.
“Fine.” He squawked. Marcus dropped him to the ground and watched as he rubbed his neck. After he had cleared his throat he said “Go east. There’s an old man there. Blind. He has information that might interest you.” They turned to leave. “But be warned. The son is not alone.” They exited through the door.

Not all have fled under ground. Some stayed above ground in the hope that the Dojeks will spare them. Others hope to strike a deal and join them. Most are suicidal or insane and believe that if they worship them as Gods, they will leave them at peace. The rest are soldiers… Or dead…