A vampire and a werewolf walk into a bar.

Thunder shook the tavern as lightning flashed overhead. Rain beat against the windows, the heavy downpour turning away many that would routinely visit. In the stillness the Vampire sat, her blade, blackened and burnt through many battles, resting upon her knees. In her mind she prepared herself, plotted her movements, the swings of her blade and the dance around her unseen foe. A loud creak echoed from the door, and the sound of nails upon the floor got her attention, alerting her to the presence behind her. Turning, she saw the beast approach, it's greying fur matted down, it's hulking body hunched over. It stepped over the remains of the once keep, his bulging eyes and snapped neck leaving a trail of excess blood upon the floor.

Unseen eyes were upon them, the forces from beyond the tides of this mortal realm watched, hungrily as they faced against one another. Pacts had been made by both, for in their desperation, fleeing their own destinies they sought the promises offered, and as fools they drank deeply from the despair that lay beyond, unrecognizable from who each had been not long ago. The Vampire, once called Lia, was now gaunt, her features twisted into a sickly beauty, under ghostly pale skin and dead eyes, no longer the olive skinned girl of yesterday. She paced around her enemy, slowly, never breaking eye contact. Neither said a word, though neither had to say a single thing. Two bolts of lighting flashed, igniting an ancient nearby tree.

In an instant the Vampire was upon the werewolf, stepping as she had envisioned. The tip of her blade slid into the inner meat of the chest, and slid easily towards the rib as she stepped in the dance of death, as she envisioned. Her enthusiasm at the job being so well done did not allow her to see that there was a major oversight, for as she slid her body closer, from the hand of the wolf like woman a flaming red substance erupted, unfiltered fiendish energy slammed into the Vampire, throwing her back, though with the grace of a cat she managed to land on her feet. Her own blade seemed to burn in her hands, the unholy rage which seemed to ebb and flow from the blade screamed in an abyssal tongue, the bound horror's demand for blood pulsed, her own heart beating faster.

With a howl, the beast shook itself, blood droplets splattering against the floor with each movement. Following with them were hundreds of small infernal creatures, each the size of a palm, lizard like though with the texture of a small insect, and each had a head twice too large for its body. They fell to the ground, and began crawling. Many died on impact, the little wax like blood which spilled was like small candles which pooled around their feet. Some crawled towards her, while others stopped to feast upon their fallen kin, cracking open the outer shells and greedily devouring the little flesh within. With a forbidden word the vampire was gone, a mist filling the tavern. The fire that burnt bright was suddenly extinguished, and in the darkness the Vampire took form once more behind the wolf. With expert timing she spun, sliding under a massive arm, and twisted her blade, slicing the jaw of the wolf. A red blast shone, though she was far quicker to evade it, stepping backwards to avoid the blast as it burned a hole into the wooden counter. Droplets of blood pooled from her enemies face, and falling with each slash were more of those foul abominations.

The werewolf, not allowing her a moment of respite gripped her by the neck, and made to bite into her skull, though she dug her thumb into it's eye, forcing it to drop her. Choking for air, she grasped around at the ground for her blade, and saw the little creatures upon the ground. Those which had devoured their fallen were growing with each, devoured. The shells cracked, allowing for more growth, and a magical flame danced where the sensitive flesh was exposed. The werewolf raised a foot to stomp on her head, though she evaded it, rolling as quickly as she could. Rising when she felt her fingers touch the hilt, she held the blade before the beast with two hands, and began chanting words of power. The werewolf pounced towards her, but was blocked by the newly raised keep, howling with frustration as she tore through the newly formed undying's stomach, the small devils that ate their way into it flung aside. The distraction was more than enough, however. With a swift movement the vampire was there, the blade piercing through the mans ear, and deep into the werewolf's neck. With all her might she pushed on the hilt of the blade, ripping through bone and muscle as the head was unceremoniously loosed from the body. With a thud it fell, it's bestial form remaining as the body slowly returned to it's human form. The small devils, seeing their host dead descended upon the carcass by the droves, bringing their own reward back to the pits they came from.

"Write a story about revenge."

A lazy rain dripped on the roof of the abandoned warehouse, the sound of it's patter aiding the spell that was being cast. Casnar held the book closely to his chest, the stained black leather feeling soothing under his torn fingers as he traced along the imprinted symbol of his god. A tree that was felled, though roots ran deep under the ground. Never truly dead, simply remaining. The god that he served was one of perseverance, of vengeance long sought after. Tonight, the gods would give him his quarry.

"Sleep..."

Casnar began anew. Although he knew what the word he chose was, it sounded foreign to him, as though in a vague sense, he could hear it through the tongues of the Mistratha. With his free hand he reached into his bag, and crushed another handful of insects, another sacrifice to the strange creatures that surrounded him. Bodies hit the ground as his own Mistratha, the furry purple thing that followed him around, came to his victims, whispering into their ears while it's large, spider like appendages visibly weaved the strands of reality around them. Casnar kept walking, slowing only to sacrifice another handful of insects. The sacrifices weren't much, but they would enough to perform a minor sleeping spell.

"Sleep..."

Around him were the bodies of his enemies thralls, fellow men like him that were manipulated into serving the Vampire. Luckily for them, it wasn't an ancient beast that they had fallen to. A lesser Vampire wouldn't cause any lasting damages to their minds through its enchantments, and more than likely they fell to the creatures lies without magic involved. It was a small town that he came from, and despite knowing most people he saw, he still struggled to recognize those around him on the first glance. It was their faces expressions, for they had become twisted, darkened reflections of a greater evil that they served. He looked at the face of one, little more than a boy. He had rope burns around his neck. No doubt a grave robber. Casnar reached into his bag again.

"Sleep..."

In the back of the warehouse a fire was burning. He heard the sound of coins, and the groans of the undead. Shuffling feat came, approaching and Casnar slipped silently into a shadow, crouching low and gazing on his enemy. A monstrous undead shambled slowly towards his direction carrying a chest filled with gold, it's unnaturally reanimated bones jutted through it's thin clothing, the grime covered cloth revealing sharpened bone. For a moment that felt like an eternity, it stopped and stared towards him, but it never dropped the chest and presumed it's sole task; moving it's masters treasure to the secret vault outside. Casnar waited until it was a safe distance away and began moving towards the office area that it came from.

Casnar stepped into the room, and saw the Vampire sit before him. It was young, a fledgling in it's own right, still under the direct command of it's dark sire. Despite never looking up towards him it spoke with the same voice that he had remembered, the sound that haunted every dream and every waking nightmare. Dotting the end of what it was writing, the Vampire looked up and into his eyes with fake sincerity, then glanced towards his Mistratha with contempt, before returning her gaze back to him.

"Have you come to take me home now, father?"

Casnar, with all of his willpower tore his eyes away from those of the Vampire, biting his tongue to keep him focused on what was at hand. With deep, concentrated breaths he reached to a flask that he carried which was attached to his belt. He poured the contents into his bag, eliciting a small, 'hmm' from the creature. In a moment the bag ignited in flame, and he threw it quickly towards the Vampire. Flames spread quickly over the papers scattered across the table as the bag combusted into a torrent of fire. How many pages were ruined, the only thing left to remember the farms ransacked and the widows debts by the fiends. The flames were reflected in her eyes, and her features were contorted with pure, supernatural anger.

Spittle of rage flew out of his mouth as he shouted the words of another spell. From every corner Mistratha seemed to pour, like the creatures when a rock is lifted, attracted by the sudden spectacle. Newly found thunder roared overhead which panicked the present Mistratha. Lights, both natural and the mystical flashed inside the warehouse, bright flashes of white turned to green and blue. All the while his own Mistratha was busying itself, weaving a small hole in the fabrics of reality, and from it was drawing forth an otherworldly blade. Double thunder echoes, rattling every window. As the fledgling burst through the flames, he swung, the sword still echoing with the power of the void. It was over in a moment, as her body crumbled to the ground, half of her face torn off.

Casnar stepped towards the body and with careful precision stabbed through the heart of the creature he once knew, twisting his blade until he saw the foul, bubbling black ooze begin to pour out from her lifeless corpse.