SILVERTON, COLORADO — Silverton was the kind of town that felt like it had been carved out of the wilderness by force and then promptly forgotten. Tucked high in the San Juan Mountains, it was all sharp ridgelines, dense pine forests, and winding roads that vanished under snowfall before autumn even ended. The town itself was small—old miners’ cabins, rusted rail tracks, and a main street lined with crooked storefronts that hadn’t changed since the 1800s. It was the kind of place where people still believed in curses, and more importantly, where nobody asked questions about strangers passing through. The perfect town to safely disappear from someone.
Niklaus stood along the edges of a small trailer park, nestled in the heart of a cold forest in the mountains. Elena was not far behind, waiting for his signal. It was the dead of night, and there was a fire burning in the middle of the camp grounds. Four people — wolves. Niklaus moved without hesitation, a blur in the moonlight. He reached the first wolf before the others even registered his presence, tilting the man’s head back and forcing his blood between his lips. "Drink," he commanded, voice low and sharp. The others tried to scatter, but he was faster—he always was. One by one, he fed them, pressing his wrist to mouths wide with confusion and panic. Then, just as quickly, he ended them. Necks snapped with cold efficiency, bodies crumpling to the dirt as the fire crackled on. Four lives extinguished in seconds—all for the promise of something greater. His hybrids. His kingdom.
"You can come out now, love." He said menacingly. "Normally I like to play with my prey before ending them, but unfortunately there isn't time to spare." He bent down to examine one of the bodies, a pretty blonde wolf.
“It’s poetic, isn’t it?” he’d said, gaze lingering on the half-dead girl. “A dying town crawling with creatures trying to survive extinction. How… appropriate.”
"We need to handle matters quick. Mikael will be on our trail, likely within a matter of days." @elenva
