A dark Vampire universe. No IRL location.

Eisley Macavr, a name that sends chills down the spine of the most seasoned vampire. She’s ruthless, and has plenty of people to help her be so. Here she sits, on her throne, awaiting her dinner. Her dining room is barren, clad only in cobwebs and stone. The floor glimmers in all its glory, the 14k gold that has been in this mansion forever. She throws her legs over the arm of her throne and waits impatiently. Her body is that of a child, being changed at the young age of fourteen. Long hair flows down her pail white shoulders, the orange contrasting drastically with the ancient skin. Somehow, the hair makes her look warmer, though it’s obvious that there is nothing warm about her body.
Eisley’s face rises and she stares at the fifteen foot tall, sterling silver, doors. A loud knock has risen from them. She sighs, annoyed, and yells, “Enter!” Her voice booms through the room. The cobwebs seem to shake at the echo. She hums a song from the early 30’s as the doors slowly open. Coming into the room are two of her body guards. Between them, is a man. The man is severely beaten and looks to be in his mid-twenties. Her eyes widen with interest. This is the first man she’s seen, besides her servants, in nearly 100 years. The body guards throw him at her feet. She quickly draws her feet up under her, disgusted. “You fucking idiot! Don’t you know how much these Prada’s are worth?” Her face is on fire and her eyes are solid black with bloodlust. She looks back down at the man's face.
“Who are you? Are you a soldier?” She runs a small hand under his chin. The man just stares down at the Prada boots and does not move. “Do you realize where you are? You are in the Nightsong Territory. I’m queen Eisley Macavr. I’m the law in this region. If you have been sent to kill me, your master has fucked with the wrong queen.” She removes her hand from his face and grabs his hair. She tears his head up to look at his face. Taking in every piece of the young man’s face, she notices something.

Everything about him is different from the others. He even smells different, intoxicating. "What are you?"

Crack! Crack!

Shots ring out and surround everyone in the room with blinding, deafening noise. Both guard's eyes fill with terror as their Queen slumps to the ground, lifeless. The larger of the two guards grabs the man with superhuman force and throws him to the ground by his neck, holding a boot to his throat. Suddenly, the young voice rang through the room again.

"...Ow...", Eisley's soft voice whispers towards the man, "Why? Why...would you...who sent you?"

Her body appears to die with one breath as both guard's faces point downward, solemnly. Suddenly, anger sparks through the eyes of the larger guard and his hand laces itself with the young man's hair, "Get up! Get up, you bloody traitor!".

Eisley feels a soft rumble from under her shoulder as the guard's heavy boots bumble towards her. Suddenly, warmth covers the lower half of her face. Blood

The larger guard has bitten the young man and began to drain him, for his queen. As if sparked by blood, her eyes shoot open and change to a deadly red. Eisley is hungry, angry, and in pain. Her fangs extend and dig themselves into the man's neck.

"So much for your little plan, eh?", laughs the largest guard, stepping out of the room.

Eisley rises from the man, her eyes blazing, blood pouring from her mouth.

The blood...it's different.

Her blood red eyes dart to meet his. "What are you?!", she roars, jumping back from him.

Eisley's face cocked sideways, looking at him like a dog. She enhaled deeply, nostrils flaring. Her mind began to blaze again, causing her eyes to turn into kaleidoscopes as she stared. His fear filled her nostrils, like prey to a tiger. Her body moved gracefully as she sat on the oversized bed. Again, her eyes closed and she tried to hold down the confusion that filled the air. Suddenly, his voice tore through the train of thought and a growl erupted from her throat. Piercing red eyes turned to look at him. "My name is Eisley Macavr. I am the Queen of Nightsong. I own you now." A smile formed, pulling up the corners of her porcelain like lips. What a silly question for this man to ask.

...What am I...

His words pierced through her brain, causing her eyes to turn an ice blue color. "I'm of vampiro. What are you? Are you of gypsy nature? Why would you come here?" The question slipped off her lips like a song. This was meant to happen some how, but she couldn't think of how that could possibly be.

Her hand came up to touch his cheek and her eyes closed suddenly with a growl. She sat for a few seconds, silent, with closed eyes. Slowly her thumb carressed his cheek lightly. "You did not know of this...crime," her hand fell into her lap as she spoke, her eyes changing to a light purple with pity. "You do not know how you came to be here..."

Slowly, she stood and poured him some water.

"You are free to go, if you wish. Just know, I can't protect you if you leave this wing..."

The words had barely left her lips when Anthony had practically fallen off the bed and headed for the door. Each step he took was like a hammer to his temples and wearing nothing but his robe he stumbled into the hall.

It was dimly lit with sconces set into the walls. Here the papering was an embroidered purple with silver accents, the bronze sconces throwing muted yellow light into the long hall. He stumbled here and there, nearly knocking over a serving girl, and destroying a vase on a display table that was holding a dozen water lilies.

He knew instinctively when someone wasn't human. The eyes that looked at him suddenly with a hungry glint were those of a vampire. The confused, frightened eyes of the serving staff were those of a mere mortal. Every so often one of them would grin and flash dazzling white fangs in his direction and he startled and made his way from door to door, each locked save in the case when a vampire was waiting behind waiting to surprise him and scare him for a quick laugh.

He was losing hope quickly as each turn presented him with a just another door. It wasn't long before he collapsed to his hands and knees and tears were pouring freely from his eyes. He just wanted to go home. He didn't know anything about any queens, or territories. He was just a poor musician.

The sheer overwhelming sensation of it tore him to pieces and he just lay there in the middle of the hall, crying freely, hoping that when he next opened his eyes he would be in his bed.

Eisley reached down to touch the Doctor's face. Her eyes fluttered shut and a growl errupted from her throat as Eve's emotions flooded her mind. The emotions caused Eisley's mind to hurt, to ache with death and pain. She opened her vibrant green eyes, worried. Her glance flashed to the man and she hit her knees.

"Listen, human...", she lifted his head to look in his tear filled eyes. "Stop crying...You will not be harmed in this palace, but I can't let you go."

The look on his face made her heart ache. A human would think this was a sure sign of a heart attack. She clenched her chest and screamed out, not caring if she scared the human. Bloody tears fell slowly down her face through clinched eyelids.

They are going to think I am mad!

Another sharp pain flew itself through her chest and stomach, causing a scream of pure terror. Never in her life had she felt this kind of pain. Was this what fear felt like? Did his blood do something to her? What was going on?

"PLEASE!", she screeched out, ignoring the Doctor's questions. Now, she was on her knees, crying like the human. She was screaming for her life against an emotion, not a pain. Out of the haze of blood, she saw Draven fade away into the darkness.

Her dress was ruined, like it was anything new to her. Still, her understanding for these emotions illuded her.

"Eve..what is wrong with me?", she asked through clinched teeth before another pain hit her.


Her screams could be heard throughout the entire palace.

Draven's stone cold eyes fixated themselves on the Queen. His head cocked to the side in a blur and he stepped forward out of the shadows and came to stand before her.

"You've imprinted...", his voice whispered slowly. As he said this, the Queen's body jumped, making him smirk. Such a beautiful queen she was, youthful, and mature. Yet, his hands wanted to fix themselves around her neck, and decapitate her where she stood.

But, what was this? The almighty queen, imprinting on a human? It was amusing in his mind.

"You've imprinted on a human. Shall I say, congratulations? No, no. Maybe, 'Oh! I'm so sorry my dear queen! May the heavens have mercy on your soul!'.", his steel cold laughter filled the corridors. He brought up a hand to her face and began to stroke her cheek.

"So, maybe this is the gateway to the throne? I have to wonder, as an imprint, would you die for this human? How much would you do to save a man you've known for days?", his hand came down to grip her throat softly.

"Just know, keeping me in solitude will not keep me away from you forever. I will have what I want. You will love me. It does not phase my soul to kill your little pet ...keep your eyes open, queen ."

With that, Draven turned and made his way down the corridor, leaving the queen in shock, falling to her knees.