1 Prologue

Vince looked at the gunshot wound on his chest with lingering regret showing on his aged face. He had become careless in his old age and this was karma. The wound was bleeding profusely and as someone who spent fifty years of his life killing and bisecting people, he knew he did not have more than a minute.

"You made me do this!" a woman shrieked at him. He turned to her direction and saw his former latest victim now turned killer.

She was everything he wanted on a victim, brunette, fit, easy to smile and resembling his ex girlfriend at some point. She was disheveled from crying and been unwashed for a day. She was holding his smoking gun, a gun he thought he had put away when preparing this cabin for her but his aging mind must have tricked him. On her left hand's wrist were the remainder of the zip tie he used to restrain her with.

But, he knew even if he had not killed her, he had completely shattered her innocence. The amount of emotional trauma he subjected her was enough to leave her scarred for life. So, even if he had not killed her, he destroyed her psyche and that was the next best thing for him at the moment.

"That look in your eyes," he groaned in pain as he spoke up, making her stop her crying for a moment. He saw the budding darkness in her eyes and cracked a grin. "It's glorious. Hahahaha..."

He laughed maniacally just to instill fear in her mind and make her never forget this ordeal. He even hoped to die right in front of her eyes just to sear this image into her very soul. This was a tactic he learnt from a fellow serial killer. If he was to die, then he would do so with the very intent of leaving him in everyone's mind.

Finally, he got his wish as the wound bled even more profusely, disturbed by his laughing. He could feel the darkness encroaching his consciousness and he was afraid, he was very much afraid. His Christian foundation built when he was a boy reared its head, making him think of what exactly was after this? Was it hell? His thoughts wondered as darkness consumed him, but the one thing that never left his face was that manaical grin. Life faded from his eyes as he breathed his last raspy breathe.

....

Nick woke up with a gasp, nearly choking from the blood stuck in his throat. He went into a painful coughing fit as he got to his fours, vomiting and choking on blood. After half a minute of doing this, he felt a little better, making him sit up, his hands plopped to the ground, supporting him.

"What's going on?" he asked himself, confused. He was supposed to be dead, a bullet right through an artery with no visible MTs was a sure bet of dying, even an idiot would know of that, let alone him. So why exactly was he alive and breathing? He looked around him and noticed he was not in his cabin any more. He was inside an empty warehouse that seemed to have recently been hosed down from all the wet patches and puddles.

Looking down, he noticed he was not wearing the clothes he had on when dying. He had a green t-shirt, parachute pants and mountain boots, all bloody with a hole on the t-shirt's chest. He went to touch the hole but his hand trembled as he felt fear? Yes, fear. He had once used a stethoscope to hear the erratic heartbeats of some of his victims and the way his heart was beating, it was the exact, if not more, way.

"Why am I scared?" he asked himself out loud.

"Seems like your memory was lost at your transition," he heard a woman say from behind. Immediately, he felt his body break out in hives, his heart beating even louder and sweat trickling down his forehead and armpits. "But it seems your body still retains its frightened memory of me, good." He turned slowly to see a red haired, plump lipped, lithe looking woman wiping blood from her lips. Strangely, he knew it was blood because he could somehow smell it!

"Oh, poor child, you must be starving," the woman said in a sadistic but motherly way. She took a step towards him but stopped when he took two steps back. "I must have terrified you quite much if this is your reaction to your Broodmother. I'm hurt."

"Who are you?" Vince asked as he tried to reign in his fear. He would never admit to be afraid of a woman, a gender he always viewed as prey before.

"Seems like I have to start your education all over again," the woman sighed in slight disappointment. Vince's eyes narrowed to a prick size as he saw the woman disappear from his view. Suddenly, his view changed, like it had been jerked suddenly to his left before darkness engulfed him, once again.