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Chapter 1: Premptive Strike
White Lake Bible Camp. Ever since the tales of the yurei/zombie slasher, Lucy the Satan Worshipper, the camp became more and more feared and people began to stop coming to it altogether. From the branch of a weeping willow, a stately raven perched, preening lazily. It suddenly jerked its head in the direction of a black Mustang that pulled up the driveway. The raven lived her ever since 1987 and that's long enough to know that anyone that comes within 25 miles of the camp, let alone actually set foot on the camp grounds, is an idiot.
The man driving the Mustang stepped out. He was a flaming redhead and dressed in what looked like a pitch black jumpsuit. He glanced towards the cabins with both hands in his pockets. He walked towards Cabin A14, the exact place where Lucy slept. He tried to slip in through the door as to not wake her up. He didn't make it two steps towards her when he heard a sinister, deep female voice say, "Not exactly the quietest of assassins, are ya?" This did not phase the man. "Lucy the Satan Worshipper?" the man asked. "The one and only." she said. "Whadda ya want?" "My master Mephistopheles has sent me to eliminate you." the man said, keeping his slightly monotonous tone. "Oh, gutsy, aren't ya?"
"I'm sorry," the man said, pulling a knife out of one pocket and a vial of holy water from the other. "It must be done." With that, the man uncorked the vial and splashed holy water on the bed where Lucy was. He stabbed the lump in the bed multiple times to ensure the death of Lucy. He paused for a minute. Slowly but surely, he pulled back the blanket to reveal a ripped up pillow. His eyes widened at this. "Ya know, I'd like to point out a few major errors." Lucy's voice continued. The man looked behind him, but saw nothing. "1, everyone does the 'splash with holy water then stab' thing. It doesn't work. 2, if you ever wanna kill me, do it when I'm in a church. And 3, when you mess with Lucy..." It was here that the man looked towards the ceiling. A woman was clinging to the rafters, her long, wet black hair dripping water on his head. Her black long-sleeved shirt, black jeans and black belted high-heel boots were completely drenched. She had demonic red eyes and clenched in her teeth was a meat cleaver. "You go down hard." she murmured. She let go of the rafters and fell to the floor, landing on her feet. Taking to meat cleaver, she whirled in a circle and sliced the mans head clean off.
Hearing the man's final scream, the raven flew from his willow perch and flew to the cabin's window sill. With a slight cockney accent and a squawk at the beginning of every sentence, the raven said, "Lucy?"
Lucy looked up. "Hi, Edgar." she smiled. "What the bloody hell happened?" Edgar squawked. "Some idiot thought he could kill me." Lucy chuckled. Edgar flitted over to the severed head, flapping effortfully to turn it face up. "Hmm?" Lucy murmured. "What's this?" She picked up the head and pushed it's bangs back, revealing an odd looking tatoo. It was a circle with what looked horns and a line running through it. "Some weird gang symbol?" Edgar suggested. Lucy sighed and brought the severed head to her desk. Edgar looked after her as she doodled a copy of the tatoo on a slip of paper. "Whatcha doin'?" he asked. "I don't really wanna do it, but I only know one person that can tell me what this tatoo means and who this Mephistopheles dude really is and what he wants with me." she said, folding up the slip of paper and taking her black overcoat from a hook. "I really don't wanna go to her." she sighed.
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But who????? Who is she???? Stay tuned!!! And yes, Edgar was named after Edgar Allan Poe. It was temptation, don't judge me! 'Course he only appears in this story. sweatdrop Poor Edgar. And I don't know what a cockney accent looks like so, just pretend please. sweatdrop sweatdrop sweatdrop