Mais les vampires n’avaient pas l’intention de s
Mais les vampires n’avaient pas l’intention de se diriger vers le château. Ils entendirent. Du bruit, que cela pouvait-il être ? Dans cette forêt une chose est plus puissante, plus rapide que des vampires ou des loups-garous. Surgit de nulle part. Une bette qui pouvait aussi bien vivre sur terre que sous l’eau.
The air hung heavy with the scent of pine needles and decay, a shroud draped over the ancient forest. The vampires, a silent, hungry horde, moved like shadows through the dense undergrowth. Their destination: the imposing silhouette of the Baron’s castle, perched atop a cliff overlooking a moon-drenched valley. But as they crept closer, a sound ripped through the stillness, a guttural growl that sent a shiver down their spines. It wasn’t the bark of a wolf, nor the hiss of a serpent. It was something older, deeper, something that resonated with the very essence of primal fear.
“What is that?” hissed one vampire, his voice a rasping whisper.
The others, even the most seasoned among them, felt a prickle of unease. The growl came again, closer this time, and a tremor ran through the forest floor. The vampires, creatures of the night, accustomed to ruling the shadows, felt a surge of panic they hadn’t known since their first awakening.
Suddenly, from the depths of the trees, a creature emerged. It was a monstrosity, a fusion of nightmare and reality. Its skin was a sickly green, covered in glistening scales. It moved with an unnatural grace, a serpentine sway that seemed to mock their own rigid movements. Its eyes, glowing an eerie red, fixated on the vampires, and the growl intensified, a roar that split the night in two.
The creature was unlike anything they’d ever encountered, a being that defied the natural order. They recognized it as a “Bette,” a creature of myth and legend, feared even by the most powerful werewolves. It was said to be a creature of both land and water, possessing the strength of a bear, the speed of a serpent, and a ferocity that could only be described as terrifying.
Fear, primal and raw, gripped the vampires. They were creatures of the night, but this… this was something else entirely. The Bette advanced, its claws flashing like daggers, and a scent of decay and blood filled the air. The vampires, used to their own reign of terror, were now prey. They scattered, the once-silent horde now a cacophony of panicked cries, the creature’s guttural roar chasing them through the darkness.
The Bette moved with terrifying speed, its eyes blazing with an unholy hunger. One by one, it caught its victims, tearing them limb from limb, their screams swallowed by the echoing darkness of the forest. The vampires, the creatures of the night, had found their match.
And the castle, bathed in the eerie light of the moon, remained silent, a testament to the horror that unfolded beneath its shadows. For the Bette, an ancient predator, had claimed the forest, and in its wake, only silence and the lingering scent of blood remained. The vampires, the once-unstoppable force, were a distant memory, their screams swallowed by the ancient, whispering trees. The night, once their domain, had become a testament to the terrifying power of a creature born from the shadows, a being that even the darkness itself feared.
