———SOMEWHERE IN WISCONSIN
Mary drove her sleek, black Corvette into the small town, the moon casting an opalescent glow over the tops of its short buildings.
She felt the hum of the engine beneath her, a rhythm that soothed her excited yearning. She was so close. So very close.
Not two hours earlier, she had seen footage on the news that made her heart race.
The video, captured by a dash cam on the very street she now drove toward, showed two shadowy figures engaged in a brawl right in the middle of an open road—a man and a woman.
She recognized the man's figure by virtue of his reputation, but the woman? Mary knew that one from the fact that she showed up as a mysterious, shapeless blur—like most
supernaturals.
This was the signal she had been waiting for.
Thanaros's spell had finished—thanks to her help, her sacrifices, his will was done.
As the dust kicked up from their violent struggle settled on the screen, Mary could not help but marvel at what she saw.
Most would find it shocking, even horrifying, to have such a brutal fight break out in public, involving whips, teeth, claws, and more, but for Mary, it was a reminder of the old world.
The way things used to be.
Vampires and monster hunters weren't really a thing over here in Wisconsin. You'd get a few skinwalkers and werewolves, but that was about it, and those stuck to the countryside.
But these were relics of the glorious past—some of the most significant names in this world's secret history.
More importantly, her efforts had worked.
She remembered the painstaking hours she had spent, chanting under her breath, focusing her energy, trying to summon Vladira and the Voss back into being after centuries floating through time and space.
She sat alone in a ring of candles after each murder, naked and painted with her victim's blood under the light of a gibbous moon.
That moon had been her only companion on those nights.
She took a deep breath, the car's leather scent mixing with her perfume in a comforting blend.
Her heart pounded in her chest, not from fear, but excitement. From hope. This was her moment, her time.
The long years of preparation and sacrifice had led her to this point, and no one, not even Countess Vladira, could take it away from her.
The small houses of Wapa Lake passed in a blur as she drove further into town. The peaceful quiet was about to be disrupted, the veil of normality about to be lifted.
Death was coming. Chaos was coming with him—enough of a calamity to swallow this town whole. That would awaken this
country to the supernatural. That would bring the Old World back, right here in humble Wisconsin.
Mary was right in the middle of it, just as she
had always intended—she would achieve her revenge, repay her debt to her master, and bring about a new dark reign of monsters of the night . Her summoning had been answered.
The time had arrived at last for her to play
the rest of her part.
Pulling into the sprawling parking lot of the Wapa Lake W-Mart, Mary had to suppress a shudder of revulsion.
The sterile glow of the fluorescent lights, the garish sale banners flapping in the evening breeze, and the soulless corporate logo grinning down at her all sickened her.
Mortals had traded the glory of the past for the manufactured fakeness of the present. Mary exited her car and walked through the entrance.
With a polite, yet strained, smile, she nodded to the greeter, an elderly man with a patchy beard and faded uniform.
His cheeriness was unsettling in a place that held as much appeal for her as a rotten apple.
As Mary moved further into the well-organized aisles, she glimpsed several patrons of the store.
They formed a motley crew of humanity, each one a caricature or parody emblematic of societal decay.
A man with sunken eyes and twitchy fingers scrutinized the canned goods, his erratic demeanor painting a clear picture of a life surrendered to addiction.
Then there was a woman, the poster girl of 'laundry day chic', wrapped in a mishmash of floral prints and neon colors that had seen better and brighter days.
Finally there was the gangly teenager, his greasy hair falling into acne-ridden skin, consumed by the glowing screen of his smartphone as he bumped into displays without a care.
Even after knocking a kiosk of gum onto the ground he stumbled on like a zombie, eyes never straying from his phone.
Mary grimaced only inwardly, her smile never faltering. She wasn't here to socialize with the great unwashed, after all. She was here for business.
Her heels clicked on the linoleum floor as she made her way directly to the kitchenware section.
Memories of her last killing spree resurfaced, a time when her master's plan had been set into motion. With each Room 13 that she 'visited', she'd offered up a sacrifice, a bloody tribute to her dark purpose.
Mary loved her job, her part to play, and thanked her master for assigning her something so within her area of expertise.
She doubted at first if she could finish the job. Even Thanaros himself, her glorious master, had been unable to defeat Vladira and Alaric Voss back in that ancient castle,resorting to throwing them in this time vortex instead.
Yet, with her master's blessing, she would succeed where he had failed.
She brought them out of the spell. She could also take them out of this world—and when she did?
Thanaros would take her for his bride.
Now, those two old adversaries were hiding here, in Wapa Lake,Wisconsin, of all places.
The thought of a Voss willingly sharing space with Countess Vladira was, in its own twisted way, laughable.
Yet, she knew the humor of the situation would soon be replaced with the sweet
satisfaction of victory.
The final act of her master's grand plan was about to begin.