PROLOGUE
~*~
Listen to them. Children of the night. What music they make! - Dracula, Dracula (1931)
~*~
A lone figure sat on the roof of a mansion near the top of a mountain, looking up at the waning moon over his head. His silken hair fell to his shoulders like a sable waterfall, standing out against his white clothing, which again made him stand out against the night sky's dark clouds. The moonlight shrouded him in its silver glow, and he tilted his face towards it, as if drinking its rays.
His lips moved as he sang to himself and to the silent night, barely revealing the tips of canines far too long to be human:
"The minstrel boy to the war hath gone
"In the ranks of death you will find him
"His father's sword he hath girded on
"And his wild harp slung behind him
" 'Land of Song!' cried the warrior bard
" 'Though all the world betrays thee
" 'One sword at least thy rights shall guard
" 'One faithful harp shall praise thee.' "
The song was slow and mournful, and his low, rich tenor suited it perfectly. He continued his song, seemingly unaware of the shadow approaching him.
"The minstrel fell but the foeman's steel
"Could not bring that proud soul under
"The harp he loved never spoke again
"For he tore its cords asunder
"And said, 'No chains shall sully thee
" 'O soul, of love and bravery
" 'Thy songs were made for the pure and free
" 'They shall ne'er resound in slav'ry."
"Stealin' th' songs o' my homeland, Tiger?" put in a deeper voice as another program approached him. "Hey, Red," Tiger greeted him. "I was wondering when you'd come out of hiding." Red grinned. "Can't sneak up on ya, can I?"
"No. Besides, it isn't healthy to sneak up on a vampire."
"Neither is robbin' th' Merovingian, and I came through that all right."
"True," Tiger mused. They sat in silence for awhile, then Tiger asked, "So what brings you up here? You're not generally social." Red shrugged. "Felt like gettin' outside for a change." More silence, then Tiger asked, "Red, do you ever... regret what you did?" "Sometimes," Red answered. "Hell, 's far 's th' human race is concerned, I'm a traitor... but considering what I had t' live through, can ya blame me? Th' One totally screwed us over, th' pansy. At least this version knew how to get what he needed to screw the human race over. I had t' steal a key, break back into th' last place on Earth I wanted t' go, and kiss th' wife of th' most dangerous program in th' bloody Matrix in order t' help Eon betray Zion." Red smiled reminiscently. "God, did it feel good t' punch him... t' feel his jaw shatter under my fist...."
Tiger regarded Red curiously. Red's story was an interesting one; he had once been a human thief known as William Brennan who had been unplugged after an encounter with the Twins had revealed the false nature of the world he lived in to him. After the One traded Zion for the lives of the other humans trapped within the Matrix, he had been approached by the Merovingian with a one-time offer: the chance to become a program.
Red, bitter and disillusioned, had accepted.
And now, two Matrices later, it seemed as if the war was finally over.
Red hadn't exactly been the social type beforehand, but now he'd retreated even further into himself, coming out only to drink or to talk with Tiger or Seth. Even the talks were becoming rarer and rarer. It was as if the one-time rebel was depressed.
The redhead laughed and ruffled Tiger's dark hair. "Don' worry 'bout me, kid. Y' oughta worry 'bout y'self."
"Me? Why?" Tiger asked, confused. Red lowered his voice. "Th' vamps're gettin' restless. It's 'specially bad now that Cain an' Abel've left. They're tired o' followin' th' rules, tired o' bein' kept here. They want blood, human blood, not th' programmed blood they're fed here." Tiger agreed on that last point, but they were trying to keep a low profile. Now that peace had been made with the freed humans, the System had a lot more time to spare in dealing with Exiles.
Surely they wouldn't be stupid enough to actually feed off a human, would they?