mICROmOJIdRACULA | Short Story

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Once upon a time, on an island far away, near a forest with a single river running through it, there lived a small Belmont boy.

For centuries the Belmonts shared the knowledge of the dangers in Banshee Forest, scaring travelers and villagers away with tales of mysterious hags. There had been death, lots and lots of death. The river that ran through the dark forest was the only supply of fresh water in the area. Those seeking to quench thirst by the river and return with water for everyone, who did not heed the warnings, would first be lulled in by a sweet lilt of song, then deafened by high-pitched screeching and killed near the river, deep within Banshee Forest.

On a brisk winter eve, a sleepwalking Belmont child wandered into the foreboding forest, disappearing into the frosty haze. The Belmonts searched for the child for months and years, but the Belmont boy was never found.

Despair, loss, and lust for revenge grew to be too much, and the Belmonts decided that Banshee Forest was to be destroyed. The Belmonts set the forest ablaze. It is said that is where the Belmont's insatiable thirst for blood began.

From then on, if a Belmont didn't feed on fresh blood regularly, they would perish. And perish they did! All those living on the island met this deadly fate. Had the banshees cursed the Belmonts with eternal bloodlust because of the Belmont's fiery forest sin?

From the ashes of Banshee Forest, every 100 years, a mist would form, a castle would appear, and a child would be born...

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