[Vorcla]

DYLAN VORCLA: FIRST MOON Pt. 1

Author's Note: Adult Content

Synopsis: this is a prequel to the two "Vorcla's Quest" series. In this story, set in 1996, werewolf-to-be Dylan Vorcla, who is just 18 years old and unaware of his heritage, travels to the Yorkshire Coast of England, accompanied by his girlfriend Melissa Westfall. He is looking for his father, who disappeared in the area two years earlier. His decision to go there will change his life forever, and will have tragic consequences for Melissa...

I'd like to thank Kara ('Ginnis) for her invaluable help and inspiration in getting this series off the ground. We've been bouncing ideas off one another and spurring each other on. I hope you like the results.




England, June 30th, 1996

Somewhere along the Yorkshire Coast, near the North York Moors National Park


The wind swept over the moors, sending rippling waves through the magenta sea of wild heather. The muffled sound of breakers crashing on the rocky shore grew louder as the two young people hiked hand in hand over the wide expanse of the vale. They could smell the salt spray of the North Sea as it assaulted the limestone cliffs.

They made a beautiful couple.

The boy was a handsome youth, tall and lean, with the lanky athletic build of a runner, and clear, sea-green eyes. Wavy blonde hair, combed straight back, hung to his shoulders. The corners of his mobile mouth seemed to be perpetually crinkled in the beginnings of an ironic smile. The tennis shirt and jeans he wore flattered his slim frame. He easily carried the big, heavy backpack as he strode briskly over the moors.

The young girl was a natural beauty. Long, coppery hair spilled to her shoulders in a shimmering cascade, framing a face which would have made an angel weep with envy. She was petite, less than five feet tall. She wore jeans and a lightweight checked flannel shirt knotted under her breasts, baring her well-toned midriff. Long-legged and slender, there was an almost feline beauty about her supple form. Cornflower blue eyes twinkled under her long lashes. She glanced at the boy, and her full lips parted in an affectionate smile, flashing impeccable white teeth. He always made her smile. He seemed lost in thought; she didn't want to intrude, not yet. She was content just to be with him, and to hold his hand. He did seem unusually quiet and preoccupied today, though.

She frowned as a niggling thought crept unbidden into her mind.

"Dylan?"

Dylan Vorcla stopped walking. "What is it, hun?"

"A penny for your thoughts?"

He chuckled. "I'm sorry, Mel. You know how I get when I'm outside. Tree hugger, remember?"

Melissa Westfall smiled warmly. "Yeah - 'bird nerd!'"

"Well, to answer your question, I was thinking about you."

"Oh, sure!" Melissa returned, rolling her eyes. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Mister. I was afraid you were thinking about Denise Fairbanks, though."

"Denise? She broke my heart. Why would I be thinking about her, especially when I'm with the prettiest girl in the state of Michigan - maybe the world?"

"Oh, Dylan, you are such a flirt! You're laying it on a bit thick, dear. But I love it." She gave him a chaste peck on the cheek and hugged him. "You always know just what to say and do. I remember the night we met. You set me up, of course. My friends urged me to come see you at the Zodiac Coffeehouse. There you were, up on stage playing guitar, singing in that incredible voice..."

"Ah, yes." His smile broadened. "Then I sang that song I wrote for you. I introduced it by saying, 'Here's a song I wrote for someone very special to me,' and I saw your beautiful blue eyes get as big as dinner plates."

"Yes - 'Melissa's Song.' Of course, I turned into a puddle, and your conquest was made."

"That 'sensitive singer-songwriter schtick' works every time!"

Melissa punched him playfully in the arm. "You stinker! Well, it worked for me."

As they resumed their hike, Dylan's perpetual half smile slowly faded. He didn't want to tell her why they were here because he couldn't really explain it to himself. His wealthy father, financier Stefan Vorcla, had disappeared near here two years earlier. He had last been seen in Whitlow, a little fishing village about three clicks down the coast. For some reason, as the school year wound down, Dylan experienced a compelling, overwhelming urge to go to England and find out what happened to his father. His mother's response had been, "Whatever." So, armed with a wad of cash and two high-limit credit cards, he determined to set off for the Yorkshire Coast on the North Sea.

Melissa was distraught at the prospect of being separated from Dylan for any length of time, and insisted on accompanying him against the vehement objections of her parents. But she was eighteen, so she had left with him, and he was glad for the company of his lovely sweetheart. He had promised to take care of her.

Dylan was an ardent nature hobbyist. He told her he'd come to study the ecology of the Yorkshire moors. It seemed like something a spoiled rich kid would do on his summer vacation, but it bothered him that he hadn't told her the entire truth. He wondered if she believed the fabrication. But she seemed ecstatic just to be with him - at least so far.

Something was driving him onward. He couldn't explain it, but his intuition told him he was close to solving the mystery of his father's disappearance. And he would find it up here, near this meadow of heather.

And soon.

He helped her over a fence, and he sensed her disquiet when she realized they had left the park and crossed over onto private property.

"Uhhh...are we lost?" she asked.

"Nope - I know exactly where we are. I was an expert tracker in Boy Scouts. It's always been instinctive with me. Once I had to go out and find the scout leader and his troop when they got lost."

Melissa smiled. "I remember. They mentioned that at your Eagle Scout Court of Honor back in April. That must have been embarrassing for the scout leader." She glanced at the early afternoon sun, squinting against its brilliance. "We will be back before dark, won't we, honey? I don't want to be out hiking in the dark - too scary for me."

"It's only about one o' clock. We should be back in plenty of time."

He took her in his arms and gave her a gentle kiss. "And if we did end up in the dark, I'd protect you. I would never let anything happen to you. Besides, I can see in the dark."

"Can not!"

"Yes, I can," he said with conviction. "It's weird - I can't explain it. Mom says it comes from eating lots of carrots. I have sharp eyes from all that Vitamin 'A.' I ate so many once when I was little that I turned orange!"

She laughed, a soft, musical sound that sent ripples of warmth through him. "You are so funny - and so sweet. And you're such a gentleman." She cuddled up against him.

"Some people say that makes me a sap," he returned good naturedly.

"So what? If you are, you're my sap!"

His smile was rueful. "Your Mom and Dad probably think we're having wild, wanton sex the whole time we're over here. If they only knew..."

She kissed him and brushed a golden forelock out of his eyes. "I promise, honey, after we're married, I'll more than make it all up to you. All your waiting will be worth it. You'll see. You have the strength and the patience of a saint."

"Saint Dylan," he said with a mock groan. "Is he the patron saint of celibacy?"

Her face fell.

"What?" he asked

"You sure you're not sorry you hooked up with the only virgin in Michigan?"

He hugged her.

"Hey, you - I can wait - you're worth waiting for. I love you and I respect you. You said it yourself - I'm a gentleman."

Her eyes misted over. "You are indeed - maybe the only one left in the world. I love you so much."

She kissed him again, with heat, a long, slow possession of him that left his head swimming. Melissa reluctantly pulled away before things got out of hand, and Dylan remembered how to breathe again.

"Ummm...the hike..." she murmured.

"Yeah - the hike..." he gasped, trying to compose himself. "Tell you what - let's go down into the next valley. There's supposed to be a rare blue phase of heather blooming up here somewhere. If we don't find it soon, we'll turn around and head back. Plenty of time before it gets dark that way. Okay?"

"Thank you, honey," she said. "Ever since I was a little girl, I...I've been afraid to be outside at night."

She took his hand, and they walked on. As they crested a rise, the landscape dramatically changed. The heather was much thinner up here, sparse and brown and apparently dying. As they walked down the slope, the temperature dropped precipitously. Melissa hugged herself as her teeth began to chatter.

"I'm cold," she muttered. "It was 82 degrees at the top of the hill. What's going on here?"

"I don't know," Dylan said, his brows knitted. "It's the end of June. It's not uncommon for this area to have cool weather now and then in the summer, but not as localized as this."

Melissa pursed her lips. She knew that look of his. He was intrigued, and he wasn't going to let go of this mystery until he got to the bottom of it. Dylan pulled a hooded sweatshirt out of the back pack, and Melissa gratefully shrugged into it as he put on a windbreaker.

The farther they went, the more barren the landscape became, until there was only bare, rocky ground and a few blackened trees.

"Was there a fire here? Pesticides?" There was a tremor in Melissa's voice that wasn't caused by the chill in the air.

"No," Dylan said. "It reminds me of the Rocky Mountains. You get above the tree line and everything's desolate like this. But we're not above the tree line. That heath we just hiked down from is at a higher elevation than this, and it's exploding with heather. There are a lot of questions here that I need an answer to."

He glanced up and frowned.

A bank of ominous, dark clouds had rolled in out of nowhere, scudding across the sky.

"That's odd," he said. "Where the heck did they come from? We weren't supposed to get any rain today - at least not until later tonight."

"Oh, great!" Melissa complained, wrinkling her nose. "Now we're gonna get soaked, too."

"Just a little farther," he begged. "Over that next hill. Then we'll turn back."

It took them five more minutes to crest the hill. When they reached the top, they stopped up short.

"Oh my God..." Melissa whispered.

Below them, an ivy-draped castle sat on a barren, fog-shrouded plain, perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea. It appeared to be Gothic in style; it was ancient and weathered. The crumbling edifice would have been more at home in the mountains of some Balkan country than here in Yorkshire. It loomed like a sinister spectre over the land, as dark and gray as the blighted countryside. Not a single light glowed from its cracked, darkened windows. The castle had a brooding atmosphere about it, as if a heavy foreboding had settled on its old battlements like a dusty mantle.

And it seemed to exude evil.

Dylan Vorcla shuddered. He had the distinct impression that someone - or something - was watching them. More black clouds had rolled in, until it was almost as dark as night, and the fog seemed to crawl up the hillside toward them.

Then they watched in horrified fascination as the mist turned blood red.

"Dylan, I'm scared!" Melissa cried. "What is that?"

His grip on Melissa's hand tightened as the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

"I don't know, Mel, but we've got to get out of here - now! If this is my answer, I'm asking the wrong questions. This place is evil - I can feel it!"

Her eyes widened. "Dylan, stop it! You're scaring me!"

Dylan turned to her, his face a portrait of sheer terror. "I'm not kidding, Mel! Run!"

They tried, both of them, frantically. But they could not so much as move their feet. Four black specks detached themselves from one of the broken turrets and flew toward them.

"Are those bats?" Melissa screamed. "Oh, God! I hate bats!"

Dylan peered through the fog. Yes - they were bats, and big ones. He had never seen anything like them. They were huge, and the one in front was the biggest of them all.

Its eyes glowed like red-hot coals.

Then the sky opened and the rain suddenly came down in torrents, and the wind began to howl. With a superhuman effort, Dylan scooped up Melissa in his arms and took off across the meadow, lurching drunkenly across the moor as the downpour soaked them to the skin. Then he seemed to shake off whatever spell had held him fast and began to sprint in earnest. Melissa's eyes widened. He seemed to be running faster than any human being could possibly run - and he was carrying her!

Suddenly a jagged streak of lightning blasted into the ground not ten feet away, fusing the soil into sand, accompanied by a simultaneous clap of thunder. Another flash incinerated a low-growing scrub tree even closer to them, and Dylan choked off a scream as his eardrums were assaulted by the elemental noise. Melissa shrieked in terror as he staggered.

"Are you all right?" she cried.

"M-my ears..." he gasped. "God, it was so loud!"

But he could still hear, for the sound of flapping, leathery wings was all around them. Melissa screamed as one of the bats swooped in and scraped its claws across her forehead, drawing blood. Somehow Dylan ran even faster - right into a thick bank of scarlet mist.

His whole world shifted into slow motion then. The sluggish fog surrounded him and clogged his throat and lungs, smothering him. The stench of dead things filled his nostrils.

He was losing consciousness, falling. Somehow he had the presence of mind to toss Melissa aside as he went down, so he wouldn't land on top of her.

Then his eyes closed as the bare ground rushed up to meet him...

*****

Dylan Vorcla was dreaming.

Euphoria. There was no pleasure or pain; he was bodiless, weightless, floating in midair in the darkness. It was a distorted reality, an existence that his mind told him had to be a dream. Nothing he was experiencing could possibly be real.

And Melissa Westfall was in his dream, too.

He saw her as he had never seen her before; she was gloriously free and completely naked. She looked as if she were performing a ballet stance, her arms stretched over her head, standing on tiptoe. Ordinarily this sight would have delighted him, yet in his dream, it did not. It terrified him, and he struggled to clear his head.

There were small, blurred, multicolored lights everywhere around them. Dylan blinked and decided they were candles. Votive lights, perhaps, small candles housed in clear glass containers of various hues, arranged on brass racks. He remembered seeing them in church when he was a boy.

Only he was fairly certain he was not in a church.

Then his drugged vision sharpened, and he gasped in horror.

Melissa hung naked by her wrists, in iron manacles hooked to a heavy chain. She was unconscious; her toes dangled mere centimeters off the floor. He could see the toll the awful position had exacted from her. Her rib cage was pulled tight, leaving muscular hollows, thrusting her superb, pink-tipped breasts into an agonized cramp of beauty. The candlelight lent a golden glow to her damp, quivering flesh. Her head hung down; her coppery hair brushed her shoulders, dangling limp and lifeless like the rest of her. Perspiration glistened on her thighs, and her breath came in short, stertorous gasps. He wondered what the red fog had done to her lungs...

Dylan stared down at himself and was hardly surprised to discover that he, too, was naked, and an upward glance confirmed that he was hanging by his wrists as well. He felt no pain - yet.

He gazed around as the haze finally lifted from his vision. They were imprisoned in a huge circular cell built from heavy blocks of ancient stone. Moisture streamed over the rugged walls. The floor was covered with straw, and there were indeed racks of candles positioned at various places around the dungeon, flickering in the foul air. A massive, onyx altar dominated the center of the cell. Somewhere not far off, he could hear the mossy mumblings of drops of liquid. Water. His tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth, and he realized how thirsty he was. He craned his neck to look upward and his heart sank.

The cell was at the bottom of a gigantic tower, like a huge well. It had to be at least fifty feet high and 20 feet across. The roof was vaulted and appeared to have a portal at the very top, perhaps five feet across. Here and there, torches mounted on sconces in the walls guttered menacingly.

There was a heavy barred door facing a wide ledge about 35 feet up the wall; however, there appeared to be no steps or ladders from there down into the pit. Prisoners were possibly lowered into the hole by a harness or some other device. The cell stank of death, and old human waste.

Hanging by its neck from a rusty collar bolted into a wall was a bleached, grinning skeleton.

Dylan shivered when he regarded the bony apparition.

A dull, gnawing sensation of pain began to radiate out from his tortured shoulders, beginning as a faint, hot flush along his arms. He was unable to suppress a moan of agony.

"Ah! Dylan - back among the living, I see."

The voice was deceptively pleasant, with a faint middle-European accent. Dylan stared, twisting his neck away from his screaming shoulders to get a look at its owner.

He appeared to be a young man, in his mid to late twenties, with long jet-black hair parted on the left. The chiseled features were too handsome, almost pretty. He was lanky and not quite as tall as Dylan, and his skin was alabaster white. Intense blue eyes stared from a lean, angular face.

Dylan found that he could meet that piercing gaze only with extreme difficulty. There was ineffable evil in that glare - much evil. He shuddered.

The young man was dressed casually in a denim shirt and jeans, and wore a pair of Nike trainers. His appearance seemed incongruous in this medieval setting.

Dylan attempted to speak and could only manage a strangling noise deep in his throat. It was the barest croak of a sound. He tried hard to swallow.

"H-how do...you know my name? Who are y-you?"

The man smiled sardonically. "A man should know the son of his most hated enemy," he said. "As for my name, I am Nilos LaGory."

"You knew m-my father?" Dylan asked. "What happened to h-him?"

"I killed him," the pale man said matter-of-factly. "It was the conclusion of a long-standing enmity."

"You killed him?" Dylan gritted his teeth as rage and grief boiled up in him. "You bastard!"

He shrugged. "We were natural born enemies. He was a werewolf, and I..." He paused for effect.

"I am a vampire," LaGory said, "and I also happen to be your great-grandfather!"

TO BE CONTINUED

['Ginnis]

Ha, love the tag on about him being the great grandfather, you're doing a great job with finding all those little things that will later go on to further complicate the plot. I'm not gonna say too too much in the comments, only because I'd kill myself if I gave too much away.

Your characterization is great, the relationship is well developed, we can see that Dylan and Mel care about each other. And without being obnoxiously chaste either. Dylan's a teenage boy, we know whats going through his head, and you allude to that. Great.

Your gothic description was wonderful as well, very eerie and actually rather accurate. As you phrase it, it was almost "lived in". Well described and believable.

Now c'mon...get working on more.

Oh...and by the way, the personal mention up there...so unnecessary. Thanks for everything, Rick.

[Vorcla]

Originally Posted by 'Ginnis;

Oh...and by the way, the personal mention up there...so unnecessary.

You're too modest, Kara. This whole thing came into being after I started reading your incredible "Vorcla's Quest 2: Resurrection" series. And I owe you thanks for that.

Thanks for the comments. Try to put yourself in Dylan's place at the end of this section. He just found out his father was a werewolf who was killed by a man who claims to be his great grandfather - and a vampire! And he and his beloved are in grave danger. Just about enough to ruin your day.

Thanks again, Kara; your comments always mean a lot to me. Catch you on MSN soon and we'll continue our mutual madness.

[Jimbalaya]

Awesome! We talked about this one already, but I wanted to say that the changes do it justice. Very nice.

Your descriptions are...what's the word...hypnotizing? They are full of life and color and I couldn't help but be pulled into their world. It was outstanding.

It's very cool that you and Kara are spurring each other on and throwing ideas at one another, the results are fantastic on both fronts and the story, when all said and done is going to be one incredible piece. Looking forward to the next one, Rick. I'm know I won't be disapointed.

[ea_blue]

Nicely done, Rick!

I enjoyed the description in the first paragraph. It was very smoothly and set the mood wonderfully.

You setup his relationship with Melissa very well. It's almost 'too good' to be believable, but still is, if that makes any sense. I prefer things that have more a shade of gray rather than very clear-cut, black and white. Still, the section of their relationship is good because it's well defined and you spent just the right amount of time on it.

Loved the description of the castle and the sudden red fog. Wonderfully creepy! I was a little confused when you said they couldn't move and then Dylan picked her up and ran. So I guess they weren't completely imobilized? Obviously there's something very different about Dylan because Melissa noticed him running much faster (while carrying her) than a normal human. That was well-handled. But his ability to move even while immobilized wasn't clearly explained in my mind. I just chalked it up to him being different.

Liked the dungeon description. The contradiction between the dungeon setting and LaGory in Nikes was very cool. The cliff-hanger effect from LaGory's news and then it stops...fabulous! That's right up there with "I am your father!..." hehehe.

Enjoying this a lot!

[Vorcla]

Thanks, man - good to see you back, Eric!

I tried to do a little subtle foreshadowing about Dylan being a Wolf/Vamp hybrid. Anyone who's read "Vorcla's Quest 1" or Kara's phenomenal "Vorcla's Quest 2: Resurrection" series knows he is, but at this point, he doesn't know himself yet. He manages to pull away from LaGory's influence and start running. As far as Mel goes, I want her to be pure as the driven snow, which will contrast with the sexual predator she becames after she...

Oops! No spoilers!

Thanks for your comments, ea.

[RENA HANDS]

I don’t know if one should say…two young people, if you are describing a couple then shouldn’t it be, because it is an intimate relationship say…as the young couple hiked hand in hand…

Then…They were a beautiful pair or They made a beautiful pair (Or something similar.)

What about putting ‘though’ before ‘He…’

Though today, he did seem unusually quiet and preoccupied. ?

This reads awkward…

he determined to set off for the Yorkshire Coast on the North Sea.

Are you missing punctuation after this…What? he asked()

You need to space Melissa and the ending quotation before it. ‘Are those bats?’ Melissa screamed.

What about…

Then the sky opened and the rain suddenly came down in torrents(,) as the wind began to howl. ?

Is there space between the commas and words here or is it me? (meadow,?) (away,?) (hear,?) (reality,?) (straw,?)

Did you mean…

yet in (this) dream, it did not. ?

What about…

and (now) he realized how thirsty he was. ? Or…Only did he realize how thirsty he really was. ?

Is this to be possessive…on sconces in the walls’ guttered menacingly. ?

What about…the cell reeked of death and human waste. (Is the comma warranted here?)

Damn! You’ve managed yet again to create something marvelous! I don’t think I’ve finished the other chapters, but this was worth the skip ahead or is this a jump back? You are the Stephen King of Storiesmania, I think. I rate 4/5!

[Venomous Vixen]

Oh clever little twist at the end there. I am still trying to work out the logistics of it - either the vampire is the Grandfather of Dylan's Dad or of Dylan's Mom, both equally intriguing. You have a different tone about you now, and I am liking it. It is more description of surroundings, of things like sound and sight, and less of the intense slaying and rape... though I fear we have yet to get there with poor Melissa. Regardless, this was great, and it left more things to reinforce the later story, as well as opened a whole new set of questions up, which I am sure you will answer in the coming installments. Truly wonderful, and especially to see Kara developing the latter and you this.

[Vorcla]

Thanks, RENA. I'll take your comments under advisement when I have some time. I might play with the "young couple" scenario, too. Thanks for the comment. I appreciate the time you take to do this.

Bri - as always, your comments are like gold. Yes, this is a kinder, gentler Vorc, hun. It's more in line with "Vamps Don't Cry" than the "rip 'em up, tear 'em up, give 'em hell, werewolf!" stuff. Kara and I have been doing some consulting, and her influence has rubbed off on me. So much so that I'm going to go back and retro-edit "Vorcla's Quest 1" to make it more in line with the tone of her marvelous "Vorcla's Quest 2: Resurrection" series. There will still be deaths in "Dylan Vorcla: First Moon," some rather violent and bloody, too (after all, we do have werewolves involved), but even these will be toned down. Melissa's torments will be leavened by vampire pleasure venom, which leaves the victim in the mental state of, "Hey, I'm dying here - but it's all good."

Most of your questions about Dylan's heritage will be answered in the next segment. For now we keep 'em guessing.

Thanks again for your comments, hun. Appreciated.

[Nupur]

This is great Rick. You had wonderful stuff in the sequel and the prequel is equally captivating and interesting. I'd have liked to write a better review but I'm reallypressed for time. Sorry. Just want to tell you that I'm enjoying this and can't wait for the next part.

[Vorcla]

Thanks, Nup. Good to hear from you. Glad you're okay.

[katofmystery]

That was super cool! At first I was almost gagging from all the lovey dovey feelings from the couple, but in the end, I like how it turned out! Keep up the great writings!

[Vorcla]

lol - just two young 'uns in love, Kat. And the lovey-dovey disappears rather quickly in Part 2. Thanks for reading and commenting - and congrats on Reviewer of the Month.