On a dark spiritless night a thick gray cloud can be seen hovering over the horizon giving way to a creeping mist, followed by a low moan mixed with the sounds of a howling wolf and a screaming eagle. You can almost hear the voices of ancient ancestors whispering secrets into the myst; tales of the ecstasy of the hunt, not just the infinite pleasure of the kill. Suddenly, the crescendo of hissing secrets is drowned out by the rustling of a chill, though calming breeze slipping softly through the cedar trees of the forest. And there you see her, sitting like a strange illusion glowing a luminescent shade of bluish-white, smiling eerily. It almost makes you forget yourself.    Almost . . . . . . until suddenly the moonlight glints wildly upon the two pronounced canines within her strange pouting lips, and when you look up to search her eyes to see what kind of creature she might be, you find two smoldering orbs, hollow. . . perhaps haunted, with tiny waves of blue-light gently pulsing over the pupils of what once were the windows to her soul. She is alien. She is Majestic Vampyra. A hybrid of sorts, though nothing human remains of her to claim the earth as once being her home. . .
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