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Origins

Where It All Began

https://www.deviantart.com/zairaam/art/Grotto-of-Evil-450517329

Knowing the origin of something is rare. Knowledge itself is power. Being self-aware of your own existence and strength is something that is equally great and damning.

I don't know if all sirens are aware of their origins, the memories of my sire blend with my own; my mind uneasy in my insanity. Being able to see the grotto filled with water, fellow sirens inside; a perfect nest. Something that dwells deep in my mind. Knowing of the lair's existence, but being unsure of its location. Ever-hoping to be with my own kind.

Vatican City has seen worse days. Yet after the events that have unfolded within the last year, I fear for what is to come. One hunter dead, and one very alive; capable, experienced, and deadly. If he decides to exact vengeance, I will be one of two creatures on his list.

My master will surely be sought out. I haven't seen her since I heard her call many months ago. My lair is filled with the bones of the poor townsfolk who have ventured beyond the outskirts of the city. Seeking shelter, they stumble into my domain. I hum and sing, and lure them inside. None save for one have ever made it out alive.

Visions of a grotto and my brethren keep appearing. I know the nest is far off along the coast of the city, but I fear leaving my cave due to the unknown agenda of the wandering hunter. I wonder what would happen if I reached the other sirens. Would my behavior get more animal like? Would I still possess my 'Harpy' title. Eliminating the Lycan turned hunter, was a victory short lived.

The vampires of Vatican City seek a Harpy out, hoping to join forces to eliminate the final hunter, causing Vatican City to fall to our dark domain. I simply wish to be me. The events of the past couple of years have been unlike any one supernatural creature could maintain without losing their humanity.

My hunger insatiable, my wings ever-moving, my twisted form revealing its true nature. I am no longer the gentle Siren of all those years. The Harpy is a title that I cling to. Vowing to seek my sire out to retreat to the grotto has been my new goal. Most sirens stick to themselves, save for the ones who make their domain in the ocean who lure crew to their death.

The grotto is filled with salt water; upon exiting the first sight would most likely be a frigate or galleon. Teamed up with my new master and sirens, the grotto would be our new foothold in the mortal world; an impenetrable fortress. I await in my cave for either my sire to find me, or for the hunter to complete his mission, putting an end to three years of our conflict.

I remember my first transformation. Weakened, retreating, I stumble into a cave, much like my own. The war raging on, muskets firing, bayonets being charged into allies. She hums her deadly song, and causes my world to melt, no more gunfire is heard.

There is only us. She advances towards me, circling me. Her curiosity peaked. She could have easily killed me, but instead she decided to share her gift. Seeing my wound, she slashes her wrist with her nail, and allows me to drink deeply from her. I only have seconds to drink my fill, as she flashes her true form, and I am then met with her rows of teeth.

I awaken alone in the cavern. Cold, starving, and confused. I pull myself to my feet and venture outside. I follow my nose as the smell of blood and carnage pollutes the air.

I stumble upon a fallen solider, and he begs me to end his suffering. Without thinking, I place my fangs to his neck and drink my fill, completing my dark transformation.

My wings begin to form, my rows of fangs sharpen, and my talons elongate, and my nails turn into claws. I am no longer human; a siren I have become.

I follow my nature to the nearby stream, following it to the open body of water.

Diving in, my senses are at their peak. I take all of the water in and am able to breathe. Swimming, gliding in the water, I feed off of several of the fish, as my dieting is somewhat restricted.

I only have a few moments to revel in my new strength, as nature has other plans. A storm forms, and turns the waters into a dangerous place, even for a siren.

Knocked astray by a rogue wave, I arrive on the shore of a beach. 

Regaining consciousness, I spot a Beach House with a man pacing the shores (unknown potential hunter), and Vatican City barely visible in the distance... where it all began those many years ago...

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Origins
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