Monday, February 4, 2013

"Bloodlines" Prologue Part 4 and Conclusion

Hey guys,

Here is Part 4 and the Conclusion of the Prologue of Book 1 of the series.  As I said before, this story is not for the kiddies and the disclaimer should begin here.  This story does touch on some sensitive issues and some content will be on the explicit side.

And as before, keep in mind that this is the unedited first draft :)  I will be correcting grammatical errors, changing, deleting, and researching a couple more things

Hope you enjoy!

You can also read everything in order at Sample Chapters

If you want to read the entire Prologue without "interruptions," you can do so here. 
 

Tuxpan, Mexico
Hector de Fuentes walked along the ocean’s shore, taking in the peaceful serenity of early evening as he walked to his place, a secluded area at the end of the beach.  It was a place that only Hector knew of, a place he had been going to since the age of twelve.  To a bystander who didn’t know any better, Hector’s place appeared to be nothing more than a cluster of large rocks in a pocket of the coastline.  But the sixteen-year-old had been the one drawn to it enough to go exploring around it do discover a beautiful, underground cave.  At the age of twelve, Hector had been thrilled at the find.  It was another world where he could go to be alone to think, read, and watch the ships sailing in the distance toward ports in Mexico and America.  It was his place and it belonged only to him.

Hector was the grandson of Ernesto de Fuentes, a Spanish nobleman who had settled in Mexico in the late seventeenth century, aiding in the country’s colonization.  Ernesto would eventually bring his wife, Hortencia, and their three children, Isabella, Francisco, and Miguel over for a permanent settlement in Central Mexico.  Miguel de Fuentes had married a woman from the Aztec tribe and Hector had been the third of their five children.  Miguel had moved his family to an area near the coast of Tuxpan shortly after Hector’s birth.  The family would visit Ernesto and Hortencia in Central Mexico and Hector did enjoy exploring the glades of the area.  But his cave was where he always felt at home.  He sometimes would joke to himself about wanting to be entombed there after he died, whenever that would end up being.  But the more he thought about that, the more Hector came to realize that that was just what he wanted.  Hector was a loner.  He had friends his age and he got on well with his siblings, but he treasured the time he would spend alone, exploring his cave and the wonders it had to offer.

On this evening, Hector had come to the cluster of rocks his cave was housed in.  The waves crashed along the shore as he climbed over the rocks to where the mouth of the cave sat open and waiting for the boy to enter it.  Hector smiled, turning to sit down on the rock that looked out to sea.  It was here that he felt the entire world was at his fingertips and he could look out to eternity. 
He thought he could see a ship far away, sailing from a port and fading into the setting sun.  There was something in the air at that moment.  Hector shut his eyes, listening to the waves and feeling the salty sea air in his face.  He could see things.  He could see people.  He could see two boys, one eleven and one nineteen, making their way through a dark forest across the ocean from where he was.  He could see a young Irishman approaching a young Native girl on his horse far north of him.  Then he saw the quaint, American colonial town in New York state.  Hector saw the man about his father’s age, standing in his home very troubled.  Hector knew the man’s son, Samuel.  Like Hector, Samuel was from a background of privilege and more of a loner.  He could see Samuel sitting on his bed reading a book.  Hector tried to see what Samuel was reading, but could not make out the title.  Hector’s eyes snapped open as he was interrupted by a low vibrating in the earth.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~

That vibration had also been felt by four other individuals in different areas of the Earth.  For a brief second, Nicolae Ganoush, Jonathan Blake, James Livingston, Samuel Livingston, and Hector de Fuentes would slip into a plain that was outside of their own.  It wouldn’t be more than a brief flash, but each man would see and feel it and it would be etched into time and they would feel it pulse through their blood.  Their senses would be heightened as a veil between dimensions thinned and the Earth tilted on it’s axis toward the Sun for the Summer Solstice. 

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