# The Hours of Darkness - Crimson Eyes: (PROLOGUE)

Author: McLeod
Tags: M/M, Memory Loss, Series, Vampire

 **THE HOURS OF DARKNESS SERIES:**  
  
**Crimson Eyes**  
  
**(PROLOGUE)**  
  
By: McLeod  
  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;I opened my eyes to see the moon high above me, its soft radiance flowing down like a velvety mist. Wispy clouds passed over its surface, sending shadows of silver down upon the Earth. The air smelled of freshly cut grass...and blood.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;My blood.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Everywhere.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;It soon became very clear to me that my memory was disrupted. The grassy field in which I awoke was not familiar to me in the slightest. The city in the distance - I could not remember its name. And the blood that was covering the grass around me in harsh, angular splatters... I had no memory of how it got there.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;The blood confused me. It was odd because I had no injuries upon my body, and yet I knew that the crimson essence scattered about had originated from my being. I was amazed at how I could have survived that much blood loss - there was so much.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;I stood, my body feeling oddly powerful and light. From where I was, I could see no tracks leading away from where I had awoken. Whoever, or whatever, had attacked me had an excellent sense of hiding its tracks. No footprints meant that I couldn't try and find the person that was the cause of the expulsion my red matter.  
  

&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;How annoying.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;As I walked towards the lake's edge, my body felt charged with an unexplainable energy. I felt as if I would never tire, as if I could jump over skyscrapers - or even mountains. This raw power flowing through my being confused and excited me - it also scared the hell out of me. With not the vaguest memory of who, or what, I was, I had no answers to any of the questions rolling around within my mind.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;This also annoyed me greatly.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Once at the water's edge, I peered into its reflective surface, trying to catch a glimpse of who this stranger was whose body I was in control of.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;I gasped at what I saw.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Staring back at me from the lake's surface was a teenage male - a very beautiful teenage male with arsenic-white skin. His white-blond hair was shoulder length, and bone straight, parted at a perfect angle. His face - my face - looked serene and calm.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;But the beauty was not what shocked me the most.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;It was the eyes: they were glowing with a crimson hue that seemed to penetrate the deepest layers of my soul with fear. They were evil ... and pure looking at the same time. They were the eyes of a killer, I felt.  
  

&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Was that who I was? A killer?  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;I wanted answers. I needed answers.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;I made a quick search of my person for any trace of information, hoping to at least find some I.D.. I had no luck there.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;But: I found a phone number. And a name. It was the only piece of knowledge that I had on my entire body - all of my other pockets were completely empty. The number was scrawly onto the back of a scrap of paper, the edges looked as if they had been singed by a flame. The name had been written underneath the phone number, but only half of it was visible. The other half was smeared beyond comprehension. The name read:  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Rixer.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Rixer? The name didn't ring a bell.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;But, it did feel familiar.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Something about that name made my spine tingle with a sensation that I couldn't identify. I had to find out who this "Rixer" was. I had a feeling that he/she/it would know who I was, and that he/she/it could help me understand what had happened to me.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;I suppose the city would be the best place to start.  
  

&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Something urged me to check out the night time hang out spots - the places that normal people strayed away from. They shouldn't be too hard to find.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;So, with the scrap of paper folded neatly in my back pocket, I headed for the tall, illuminated buildings in the distance, an adventurous rush flowing through my body. I was traveling into the "unknown", the only defense I had was the fiber-woven paper in my back pocket.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Some weapon, huh?  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Rixer, whoever you are, I am coming to find you.  
  
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Ladies and Gentlemen, let the adventure begin.

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/GnDBXoXe


