A Bit of Short Stories

Our roots belong to the time of sword and shield when witches and demons were cursed and feared. We are Italian in nature our last name taking root from our homeland. We are the Agnolo's a coven of century-old vampires. Our first names now carry a more modern tone. I am Alessandra, My brothers Giovanni, and Luciano are dead. Our father Marcelo killed them. The last remaining member beside me is my younger brother Angelo, my father's favorite.

Something has compelled my father to kill us starting with his most loved. My brothers gave their life for Angelo. I shall do the same. Alessandra lifted her blade, pointing it to the ceiling. The hilt of the sword shined giving off a golden hue. Alessandra stepped forward as her heels tapped against the polished white marble floor. The room she sequestered herself in appeared circular shaped and tall. The room had a pair of wooden staircases outlined in gold on both sides that led to a second floor.

Where both staircases met, there was a door leading to another room. Around the door and leading down both sets of stairs were murals that depicted battle scenes. The ceiling marble and ivory carved with images of Angels.

A pair of heavy wooden doors with carvings of skeletons holding swords, slowly creaked open on the main floor across from her.

A man with long flowing black hair stepped through. His red eyes glowing. The man reached for a sword he kept at his side. "Where is your Brother Alessandra? Tell me So, I may rip him apart and save you for last, he said calmly.

"You do not mean that, you loved Angelo more than us, more than anything." She dropped her arm holding the sword. Alessandra took one step and then lunged for him.

Marcelo growled dodging. His knees, and left hand touched the floor.

Alessandra's sword hit the ends of his hair.

Marcelo used his right hand to draw his sword. "You will die here; I had originally planned a kinder death."

Alessandra smirked. "Death becomes me," she whispered as she turned in to a small cloud of bats.

Marcelo growled as he spread his feet apart. "Come, child, I am waiting."

The cloud of bats swarmed toward him.

Marcelo positioned his blade in front of himself.

The bats attacked splitting into three parts. One section went to the right, the other to the left. The last remaining group went to the center striking Marcelo head on. They bit scratched and screeched.

Marcelo, while the bats were attacking him, swung his sword, striking all three groups. Blood dripped from the wounds the bats had inflicted on his face.

Some bats dropped to the floor during his assault. The remaining bats reformed into Alessandra.

"You have become blind," Alessandra spoke as she stretched her hand out toward him. "Come with me papa; I will clear your head."

"Alessandra I have never been more clear headed. I know what I am doing." Marcelo growled as he lunged at her.

Alessandra smirked jumping back. " You always were somewhat blind when it came to Giovanni, Luciano, and me."

"Shut up," Marcelo snarled while swinging rapidly. A force gathered behind his blade. A whirlwind ripped from his sword.

Alessandra dodged still taking minor damaged. The wind from his attack destroyed parts of her long flowing white sleeves. On her cheeks, red lines appeared dripping blood. "They want to be remembered," Alessandra spoke while lifting her blade to return his strikes. "They wanted your approval, your attention."

Their blades collided as they danced in midair. Sparks flew around them.

Marcelo bared his fangs. "They were Weaklings, children who deserved their fate."

"Do you believe what you are saying? Can you not fight what compels you against us? Have you always hated us this much?" Alessandra Wavered.

Marcelo's glowing red eyes flickered, he clenched the area of his undead heart dropping to the ground.

Alessandra dropped from the air landing on the marble floor. She kept her blade pointed at him.

"Alessandra run and take Angelo with you! I do not want to murder my kin!" His eyes stabilized turning back to the glowing red once more. "What am I saying! Death to you!" Marcelo Stood up grinning. His body dissipating into fog.

The fog blanketed the room, making it hard to see.

Alessandra closed her eyes raising the blade above her head. "Come."

Marcelo's fog converged on all sides of her shrinking Alessandra's ability to move.

Alessandra glanced around. Her mind drifted to a memory. She was a child running up to Marcelo in a garden. The flowers echoed in her mind. "Roses," Alessandra spoke loudly. A rose bush appeared on her shoulder going down her arm, and the bud bloomed at her palm. The blooming rose glowed, and a bush suddenly sprouted from the ground. It surrounded her shooting up to the ceiling.

Marcelo slammed himself into the rose bush. The branches broke, as the branches broke more grew in their place.

Marcelo formed multiple hands in the fog. The numerous hands lunged forward and ripped at the branches. Thorns nicked at his hands. Drops of blood littered the floor in front of the bush. "Coward come out and fight your father. Die with honor," he roared. Marcelo then controlled the hands to surround the giant bush.

Alessandra closed her eyes as the bloom illuminated again. A giant eye bloomed on the outside facing the fog Marcelo. "Remember who you are. Fight it, I know you. You may not have loved us as much as you loved Angelo, but I know you cared. You would not have wanted this." On the inside of the bush, Alessandra covered her eyes with her unused hand and wept.