Book cover of “The Law of Beasts: Khovahsh. Book 1, Act 1“ by Dapharoah

The Law of Beasts: Khovahsh. Book 1, Act 1

  • Genre: Thriller
  • Age: 18+
  • Status: Completed
  • Language: English
  • Author: Dapharoah
Alicia Chay, the sadistic queen of torture, ruled for forty centuries under the identity of someone else. With a family of savages as her fledgling, she detests mortals, but she loves feeding on them for blood. Her passion for protecting animal life poured into the creation of the “Treaty of the Animals.” It’s a declaration signed in supernatural b... 

Chapter 1. Bloody Hands

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him shall not perish, but have everlasting life. John 3:16

I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. John 14: 6


As cool air blew over me, I opened my eyes amidst an energetically wound crowd of a random congregation to witness Pastor Danny Dacra’s knack for sensationalized worship for profit. I blended in with sanctified humans, nursing a thousand untold secrets. Pastor Danny Dacra’s image protruded on two wide projection screens. 

“We are nearing the end of our privacy and one hundred percent human thought....” 

I rose to my feet, clapping and whistling. I adjusted my reading glasses. He roamed the aisles. “Humanity has lost its soul! Introduce machines into the workplace, integrate them into regular society, I should say, to make it all plausible….” 

I didn’t know what came over me, but I sneezed, and every framed religious photo throughout the Superdome fell from the walls and shattered on the floor. Everyone fell silent. Before I could react, Pastor Dacra’s mouth vanished, causing confusion. Abruptly, a centuries-old vampire landed behind Pastor Dacra, shoving his fist into the Pastor’s back. He donned black tar and gold. His crown oozed with lava. Traces of brimstone circulated around his pupils. 

Thousands of frantic people ran for the exits. I remained where I stood. “Khovahsh…” 

His voice shattered every mortal eardrum throughout the mega church. Screams and shrieks of undue torture made my skin crawl. “How do you know my identity?” 

The vampire’s face swirled into the Pastor’s with devastating accuracy. “That’s not important. I have a message for you. Either destroy Alicia Chay and her animal treaty, or I will.” 

My dragon wings exploded from either side of my shoulders. “You will not…” 

My mouth vanished from my face, erasing the rest of my words. 

He grunted, amused. “Pardon my manners. My name is the same as your missing lips—Muzzle.” 

He burst into glittering particles that left the Pastor’s mega church burning to the ground...

I must admit that I didn’t know much about being a vampire. As a lost, damned creature of the night, I slaughtered and killed spanning decades, hoping it would erase the memories of my past human life. Sadly, that never worked, not that I expected it to. Emotion wasn’t a part of my vocabulary, nor did I mourn anything. I didn’t wear my heart on my sleeve because I was always naked. The only attire I wore was a coat of blood. I fed on random humans all over the world at my leisure, without regard to who may miss them.

I hunted humans for sport. It was a passion of mine, one of them, at least. I often studied them in the shadows. I loathed civilization with everything in me, more so humanity. Inevitably, I’d found calm, peace, and discipline in loving animals because they were true to nature. I loved them so much that I made a vow to protect them all.

Sigh, how naive and foolish I was.

Before I let you into my world, my life as Alicia Chay, I must warn you that I wasn’t a very friendly woman. I wasn’t one of those individuals that needed friends or allies. I was a passionate lover of sorts. I hadn’t time for impropriety when it came to self-preservation. I hadn’t patience in the realm of survival. Even the fittest wasn’t safe…

Cuneiform writing was just developed in Sumer, an ancient civilization of southern Mesopotamia and Egypt, hence the origin of my recorded history.

In grave detail, I documented my beginning on kish tablets to get a better picture of my reality. I did this relentlessly until Ptahhotep, a city administrator (and vizier to Pharaoh Djedkare in the Fifth Dynasty), developed literary writing.

This account would not have existed otherwise. I didn’t do this for attention. I didn’t care about mortals and their opinions. What lies beneath the limestone of this kish tablet wasn’t chiseled, by my bloody hands, for praise. I didn’t want it.

I could remember pieces of my human life, but the images became blurred and fuzzy the more I transitioned into a carnal fiend that thrived in the shadows when the sun rose, and lurked in the wilderness when it was time to hunt. I was mostly private. I had to be.

Even though I was in the beginning phase of my supernatural existence, I did learn, from day one, that it was a figure-it-out-as-you-go-along experience that came with consequences and repercussions I wasn't equipped to deal with. One day, the world would read about me and the system of betrayal that turned my heart cold, but for right now, that wasn’t a priority. 

My heartbreaking story began in 2 B.C. on the continent of Asia. I was covered with the blood of random humans I drained dry shortly after my painful transition.

I experienced a rebirth, a re-introduction into a cold ball of death called Earth. Seeing life through human eyes was one thing, but seeing it as a vampire was frightening. There was no need for rose-colored glasses when a world that ran parallel to life as I once knew it lurked before my hazel eyes as they turned black.

I refused to turn around and see my once human life with those eyes. Black shaded everything in its indefinite hue, so thoughts of friends, family and my systematic mortal life came to a halt, a standstill.

It ended at that point. If I turned around, if I looked over my shoulder and saw the darkness cast its filter on the memories and experiences of my loved ones, I would turn to salt, not ash.

To my immediate right was a small pond of sorts. A few lilies floated peacefully on the serene waters. Deeply overwhelmed, I fell to my knees. The moist grass cushioned them, but not the emptiness in my heart.

I closed my eyes as I loomed over the water. The images flashed on my closed lids vividly. I had on a wedding dress. I was making love to someone I couldn’t make out. His face was cloudy. I was hugging a girl, laughing into a light-blue sky. I was sick in the rain, too weak to crawl inside shelter….

My head snapped backward when I opened my eyes. I stared at my reflection on the water. She stared back into my black eyes with rage. My face was reconstructed and more refined. I was alluring, seductive, elegant, and powerful; with a hint of danger based in the Darkness. My breasts, hips and thighs were fuller, pleasantly plump.

Startled from my appearance, I jumped sixty feet backward, when I thought I only jumped three feet. Skill unlocked.

I jumped so far back I slammed into a huge rocky totem pole with Asian faces carved in the stone, cracking it down the center.

The dawn of my supernatural existence began at that moment, standing under a Waxing Gibbous moon. In front of me was the unknown, fear and opportunity….

The head rush and boost in adrenaline caused me to lose my bearings. Before I knew it, I fainted.


I didn’t know how long I was unconscious, but I was awakened by a strange man. I slowly opened my eyes as his thick, calloused hands groped my forehead. I sighed with relief when his fingertips trailed the length of my legs down to my toes without offending me. He was very respectful. He handled me with tenderness. I felt kindness radiating from his athletic body wrought with the unapologetic sands of time.

Only one man ever touched me in this manner. I was choked up with emotion thinking about him, my past.

Don’t look back.

I really wanted to, but I couldn’t. I didn’t know why I was putting so much emphasis on snubbing retrospection.

This was a lot harder than I thought. I still didn’t know what I was. I knew that what I used to crave I no longer desired, and what I never desired I now craved...

I closed my eyes once more. With a jolt, I saw me in a forest. I ran and I ran in fear of my life. Heat beat at my chest from the bile rising along my parched throat.

I reached the clearing. I dashed along the path, as if death was chasing me. A foreign sound betrayed the quiet of the belly of the forest. 

I ran so fast I no longer heard the screams of the dying whores.

Wildly, I looked around, trying to find my way out.


Another bend, another clearing a few feet ahead, nearly hidden by overlapping branches.

I was safe and home free.

Frightened, I ran again, as if death wanted my throat. I was near the Exit...

I could see the Village in the distance...

I saw the huge, gigantic opening and I laughed! I laughed because I learned from the environment I was just exposed to. I seemed smarter. I was wiser.

A flash. My eyes opened from my first orgasm of my own accord, and from my own hands. My first, and I was a virgin. It made me smile. Someone caught me pressed against the root of an ancient tree. I ran away back into the forest.

Once I raced past a dead gator, a snake snatched it up, and threw it in the air. It jumped from the back of its tail, like a missile, Heavenward, and caught it as it fell into its mouth, and swallowed it, or at least I thought he did.

I screamed. Oh my! I shouldn’t have stopped. I meant was I dumb, that stupid? Was I that naïve and that blind, despite having open eyes from my body experiencing the joy of masturbation.

I opened my eyes...

The strange man grunted. I was relaxed. I hadn’t been this relaxed in an exceedingly long time. It was the type of relaxation that felt like an extended vacation. I could tell by the way his fingers trembled that his heart was in the right place.

Like he was afraid to check my vitals. I was too weak to leave. The concern that colored his lips relaxed me. I wasn’t bound or gagged. I was free of chains and restraints, so those were signs that I was safe. There was no clear and present danger.

He was worried about me. We didn’t know one another. His upper face was shaded so I couldn’t really see what he looked like. There wasn’t much light. Flames burned on wooden staffs along the rocky walls. The air was stuffy, but tolerable.

My eyes were half open, half closed. I didn’t want to let him know that I was awake, but he did know; he didn’t seem to mind. He hadn’t had company in ages. He looked like a loner. Hell, I was lonely by choice.

I fell back asleep. The Sandman brought more than just dreams; he taunted me with images from my past.

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