Part 1- The Well

Excerpt from local news- “Family found slaughtered in home!” screams the headlines. “All but one of a family of four was found brutally murdered in their home last night. The fourth member of the family, Jeffery (12), is missing, and prime suspect in the investigation. Jeff has brown hair and blue eyes and a pale white face. Anyone with information on his whereabouts, please call the number below.”

It was a still and quiet night. Nothing moved except a white-faced kid in a, what used to be white, hoodie. His unblinking eyes stare into the night out of his scarred face. This is Jeff, and he did not look like this only a short time ago. The knife in his hand wasn't bloody then either. Until only a few minutes ago it had been sitting in the drawer in the kitchen. Jeff holds the knife tight as he runs away, away from home, and from the corpses of his family that seem to chase him.

Suddenly, something pierces his left arm right below his shoulder. Jeff screams in pain and surprise as he reels backwards, and sees what stabbed him. In the moonlight, he can see a large, razor-sharp, ornate blade now covered in his blood. It appeared to be floating, as if carried by a ghost, until it's owner stepped towards Jeff, seeming to materialize out of the darkness and shadows. The figure's features illuminated by the moon both shocked and horrified Jeff. It was a kid, about Jeff's age, with skin as pale as that of a rotting corpse. His unevenly cut hair was a dark brown with dirty blond underneath. His eyes were slanted like a cat's and completely gold, no pupils or whites. He had a huge shark grin with a pair of fangs. He was a little shorter than Jeff, but he seemed like was at least twice as cunning and deadly. He wore a black t-shirt with a vampire smiley face on it. He had a gun in his pocket, and Jeff would have bet that that gun was fully loaded and the safety was off. Underneath his right eye, he had a scar that had long since needed stitches. It was this scar that made Jeff want to run, made him feel like a child again, but the boy's eyes stared into his and forced him to freeze.

MVE

Several minutes passed before Jeff was able to speak, and when he did, it came out as a hoarse whisper. “Who the hell are you?”

The boy said nothing, but Jeff could hear him chuckling quietly to himself. “Hey, dumbass, I asked you a question.”

The boy broke out into insane laughter, then took a match from his pocket, stepped back into the shadows, crouched down and struck it, illuminating the wall and ground behind him. A woman lay, dead, on the ground directly behind him. On the wall just above the woman were the letters MVE. A cold chill ran down the back of Jeff's spine. THIS was MVE? MVE, Maximus Vampyre Emerson, the most infamous serial killer that had ever existed? Max's reputation was enough to make even Jeff's blood run ice cold.

Max watched Jeff and laughed harder at his fear. Jeff griped his knife tighter, ready to fight for his life if he has to. Then, suddenly, Max grabbed Jeff's knife and ran off towards the nearby forest, followed closely by Jeff. Smiling and laughing, Max ran for an old well in the middle of a clearing in the forest. He tripped, losing his grip on Jeff's knife and impaling his stomach with his own. Jeff arrived at the clearing just in time to see his knife fly down the well. He turned to Max, intending to rip his throat out with his bare hands, but Max was gone. Jeff decided to take the opportunity to see if he could get his knife back.

Jeff leaned forward, trying to see his knife through the darkness of the well. Then, literally out of nowhere, Max pounced, hitting Jeff square in his back and sending them both tumbling down into the well. The last thing Jeff knew before blacking out was that he was in hell.

Written by Michael.