Blood Stained

A dust ridden, partially torn journal lay on the floor, by the remnants of a fire. The wooden kindle had rotted down to nothing more than a pile of blackened mulch. John knelt down and picked it up, blowing as much of the dirt off as possible without damaging the sensitive, aged pages of the book. It creaked as tiny particles of dust and dirt scratched together as he turned to the last written page.
“What does it say?” Kayla asked, resting her hand on her firearm, which hung to her side. John scanned the page quickly and then licked his chapped lips.
“Dear Journal” He begun. “Dear Journal. I am sorry to say that this may be my last entry. Not because I am ill. Nor am I dieing. But since I entered these ruins I fear I am being followed. Someone’s or something’s eyes are always burning into the back of my skull. Something whispers in my ear when I sleep and infests my mind with disturbing thoughts. Loosening my differentiation of real and false. I fear that soon my grip on reality will drop all together from these haunting presences.
There is something lurking. No. At home in the shadows here. Something mimicking my every step, and for once in my long and adventurous life. I am scared. More scared than when humanity first found Vampires. More terrified than the icy grave of the once great titanic, and more petrified than the bark of the lifeless trees that surround these ruins.
I know I won’t survive. But the memories of my wife and children keep me going. I won’t die in vain. I have found evidence that the prodigal son exists. He is not alone. These seemingly haunted ruins that stand dormant, hold no life that I have found. No living organisms. Which suggests that they are forced not to live here. The only thing that strives here is dust. Which proves my theory even more. Dust is mostly dead skin cells, as well as dirt. Which puts forward even more that something must have lived here, for there to be dust.
My only hope is that someone will find this journal, and shed it’s ray of knowledge on the world. If it is not too late. War is coming. Everyone senses it. And it is only too soon before the world, like suggested, will be enveloped in blood and flame.
Who ever finds this I only ask that---” John finished, and looked up. Gently closing the journal. "It stops there."
The team put on a brave face, but each one knew. Each one knew that the others were scared. The Vampires chewed their lips, and the Lycanthropes gripped each others hands. While Kayla crossed her arms in defiance. Not daring to show the need for the comfort she so desperately required at this fearful time.
“What is the plan?” Kayla asked, trying to hide the croak of fear in her voice. John frowned, and licked his lips in contemplation.
He exhaled a deep breath, and said
“We go in further. If there is something in here. It may very well know where he is. If it isn’t him already.”
“What makes you think we'll survive?”
“They don’t kill straight away. They obviously took this researcher somewhere else, before they killed him”
“How do you know?”
“There’s no body. No corpse. And faint, filled-in drag marks that are leading away from where we are standing. We’ll try and follow them, and when they run out. We’ll keep searching. These ruins are the closest thing anyone has gotten to the prodigal son, and we shall not abandon it so easily.” He gulped slightly. “No matter, what we face.”

There was no scent to follow. Nothing but faint tracks that were slowly being filled in by time. But they soon wore out, and Alpha Squadron grew more and more on edge. More and more in fear, as they huddled closer and closer together with each step they took.
Unaware of the piercing gaze, and the silent footsteps that followed them, like the researcher had become so accustomed to before them.