Lieselotte's Story

The fight had barely commenced before it was over. Embarassingly so. Appropriately enough, the vampire's work was commendable.

Appearing out from the trees, her feet stepped gracefully over the twigs and rocks that littered the forest floor. It was then that Emilian saw her...

Narrowed eyes came first, and an instinctive reach for whatever crude weapon lay holstered at his hip. And then came the widened, glazed expression. The vampire had noticed as well, and stared intensly, ready to pounce.

She took a few more paces toward them and stopped, giving a delicate curtsey.

"Salutations to you both. I am called Lieselotte." Her voice was sweet honey and her gaze slowly moved between the two parties.

"Please remit my sudden intrusion. I am afraid I was privy to your confrontation with that execrable demon. Nevertheless, I should like to praise your contrivance in the matter. Verily, I am impressed. One would expect no less preeminence from a member of the Valentine brood."

Lieselotte kept her distance from the two. She was close enough, however, for Emilian to see her divine lips curve into a coquettish smile. His heart leapt in his chest.

"Lamentably, time is not in our favor," she continued. "Allow me to explain the purpose of my visitation. I am a humble servant of a perspicacious master who is well-versed in matters of the occult. Most regrettably, he has forseen a particular disaster that shall occur in western Europe within the coming months. Should this come to fruition, t'would mean an unholy Rapture for all."

The woman paused, allowing Vayne and Emilian to digest this sudden information. The gypsy boy continued to gape at Lieselotte, though he'd regained enough sense to have the decency to close his mouth. The vampire's features, however, were a bit harder to read. The young woman continued...

"The Master is firm in his convictions that you, Milady Valentine, would prove to play a key role in averting this exigency."

Lieselotte's smile returned, both dark and serene. It made Emilian's stomach flutter and he hunched over a bit on reaction.

"Your prowess remains to be something of a legend, Milady...to those who still may recollect the most auspicious era of the Valentine dynasty."

She bowed deeply, keeping her distance yet feeling almost uncomfortably close.

"Should you acquiesce, I am to act as your obsequious servant until we reach our destination. I do beg your pardon for arriving with such haste. I understand any desire you may possess to dwell on the matter."

The night air between them was silent. Overhead the moon was in full force, casting a jagged pale light through the gnarled branches. Emilian thought it strange that he was unable to hear any sounds of animal life. A hooting owl, the chirping of frogs, perhaps... Looking back, he would think it odd that he would even take note of such a thing.

Lieselotte's porceline face set into another smile as she added...

"I hope your awakening was pleasant, Milady."

This was the absolute last thing Vayne needed- let alone wanted. As for as she was concerned, Vayne was no one's pawn, and she will control her own destiny. Besides, there was something off about this purple haired girl who had just enough precociousness in her speech and double meaning in her words to anger Vayne.

If this...commoner thought she was better or even slightly prettier than Vayne she was sorely mistaken. She can take her half smile, lazy gaze, and curtsey and go straight to hell for all Vayne cared.

A dull pain in her right shoulder had turned to a firm ache and Vayne stopped feeling contempt for the woman long enough to turn her attention to the wound, and to what she would respond to this woman.

“You seem to have a great vocabulary for one who's just going to be a servant. Most of my servants could barely read or write, let alone speak in circles like you do. However, I don't have the time or nearly enough patience for this so I'm going to be blunt, so empty whatever silly little thoughts you have in your cotton candy covered head. I am wounded, tired, and thirsty beyond recognition. I want to find my brother, who I can only assume was the previous master who left this castle, and I could not care less about whatever your Master has predicted. If he really intends for a Rapture to come he could at least come himself to relay all of the information he can rather than sending...you. Now, I'm going to head to town to recoup with my new friend Emilian and you can follow us and shut up until we get there and once I'm good and ready, I'll let you fully explain your premonition, or you can wander in the forest till you die. Have I made myself clear?”

Vayne ended her chastising of Lieselotte with a snickering half smile, reminiscent of the one she had done not a minute ago. She then turned to Emilian, who was standing mouth agape at Vayne, probably stunned at her little outburst. “Let's go Emi. Can I call you Emi? Much cuter nickname in my opinion. Oh, and keep the cloak, it suits you.”

Vayne and Emilian collected their belonging, smashed the handmirror, and walked towards the faint light of Bistritz. Behind her, she could hear faint footsteps follow them. Vayne just sighed, and kept walking.

Vayne was leaving, heading back into town, while Leesle...Lees...Lieseeelll...the other woman was seemingly following her -

'and did she just call me her friend!?'

This was all too much. He didn't want any of this. Wasn't prepared for any of this. He'd just wanted to make an easy penny, and had ended up being stalked by this Vayne woman as if he were some kind of prey, attacked out of nowhere by a hideous old woman - IF you could even call it that, and thoroughly creeped out by this...vixen!

'Of course THIS is the kind of female attention you get yourself...tch.'

And now Vayne wanted to head back into town? For what? So they could all get a table and play Shut the Box over a pint!? No way. No way in hell!

"Forget it!" He shouted. Vayne stopped and turned to him, her face mildly taken aback.

"I'm not going anywhere with you! I'm not your friend! I tried to rob you! You don't know me, and I sure as hell am not getting to know you! So you know what? Keep your damn cloak! I don't want anything to do with you freaks!"

Emilian whirled the cloak off his shoulders and threw it to the ground.

"Don't follow me. I don't owe you anything. Good luck with...whatever."

With that, he stormed off in the other direction. After a few paces, he turned around and returned, picking up the cloak."

"Actually, I am taking this. It's freezing out here."

Tossing the garment across his shoulders, the boy jogged off, disappearing into the thicket of trees. Over and over in his mind, he wished to be as far away from Bistritz and Blue Castle as possible.







Lieselotte watched Emilian until he was out of sight. Then, turning to Vayne, she spoke...

"Might I propose that Milady patronize the local inn? I do suspect t'would be much more suitable to ameliorate your wounds. Milady could also permit me to further explain my cause, perchance?"

It appeared that "no" just wasn't in the cards for tonight. Before long, Vayne found herself sitting in the cold, dark annex of Bistritz's only inn. Lieselotte lit the few lamps that were scattered about the sparesly furnished room and laid out what little clean medical supplies that could be found.


o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o


An hour or so later, Vayne was ready to hear the girl speak. Lieselotte poured a cup of hot tea from a carafe, and set the cup in front of the vampire before bowing and taking a seat opposite her.

"Allow me to inaugurate properly by saying that The Master verily wishes he could be the one to explain these dire circumstances. But alas, infirmity has left him bereft of the strength necessary to make such an arduous trek."

Lieselotte paused for a brief moment, allowing the conversation to shift gears.

"If I may pose an inquiry...is Milady familiar with the ancient civilization of R'lyeh? It is purported to now lie at the bottom of the sea. As lore would dictate, R'lyeh exists on this earth to officiate as a beacon. This beacon has been called Neameto, Palace of the Deranged Gods. The rising of Neameto shall invoke the prescence of an ancient alien God from the far reaches of space. This entity will pass judgement on the earth, reducing all life to its purest original form."

The young woman stared across the table at Vayne, who had listened intently and without interruption. She had not touched her tea.

"As dubious as this tale may sound, I can assure you of both its validation and my sincerity. What The Master says shall prove veracious. There is a gentleman. A warlock of sorts. He is to be the perpetrator of this calamity via the Reverse Demon's Gate Invocation. Just six moons ago, this sacriment was attempted by a fool known as Dehuai. Indubitably, his ritual failed, but not without first inspiring another to continue where Dehuai left off. Even as Milady kindly grants me audience here and now, the warlock scours forbidden tomes, preparing for his self-made Ragnarok.

The Master seeks aid from the noble Valentine clan in this matter. The warlock and his schemes must be quashed if all life on this planet should aspire to see another generation."

That all-too familiar smile crept over Lieselotte's face as she delightfully added...

"Milady's brother has already left to join the fray. Master Keith awoke from his slumber not six moons ago, after the initial attempted Valorization emitted waves of mana and malice across the stratosphere."

Vayne's features narrowed and the air around her seemed heavy and electric. The mention of her brother's name suddenly made this twisted little fairy tale hit a bit closer to home.

"The sunken city of R'lyeh is said to rest in the deepest reaches of the northern Atlantic, off the coast of England. Will Milady be accompanying me? Or am I to return to The Master empty-handed and elucidate the details of Milady's repudiation with her brother?"

The wheel of fate was beginning to turn.








Emilian knew something was wrong before he'd even made it back to the encampment. The air was thick, and he couldn't seem to quell the sense of foreboding that took hold deep within his stomach. Unable to deny it any further, he reached the campsite at a steady jog.

Dmitri and Pesha were standing outside the elder's caravan. They were a few years older and younger than Emilian, respectively. Growing up together, the three of them, along with the older, patronizing Ferka, were nearly inseperable. Ferka and Dmitri still had scars from the bareknuckle fights the foursome would compete in for the extra earnings. Having no true brothers or father himself, Emilian viewed them as closer than any blood relationship he knew.

He shot them a quizzical look. The two merely looked away in return. Pesha then walked around to the back of the caravan without a word.

Feeling the onset of fear sweep over him for the hundreth time tonight, Emilian spoke, keeping his voice low...

"Dmitri, what's the matter? Where is everyone?"

The man appeared to be holding his breath as his eyes held a steady, glossy gaze on the ground below him. He gestured with his thumb to the door of the elder's caravan. Brow furrowed and biting his lip, Emilian pushed the door open.
The interior of the modest wagon appeared to be buzzing with murmurs and hushed speak, which immediately ceased upon the boy's arrival. His eyes adjusted to the crude lighting to see a handful of his fellow tribe members gathered around...

A body.

'No...'

Not just any body.

"Ferka!"

Pushing past the others, Emilian knelt by the side of his former friend. His fingers instinctively reached for the man's arm and felt the cold, hard skin yield to his touch. Immediately, he pulled his hand back as if he were burned. Mouth agape, he struggled to speak, wheezing on short, shallow breaths.

"Wh-wh-wh...what...what...happened...? Wha-what is this!?"

Emilian looked up at his tribe's elder with wide and pleading eyes. The old man sternly returned his gaze. After an agonizing pause, the elder spoke...

"He is dead."

"I know that!" Emilian's heart was racing and a painful lump rose in his throat. "I know! But what...who..."

"Foolish boy," the elder interrupted. His voice was deep and somehow, terrifying. Emilian simply stared up, dumbfounded.

"What...?"

"He followed you," the old man continued, seemingly uncaring of Emilian's pain. "He knew you were going to that accursed castle. Ferka knew it was dangerous and so he followed into the forest after you. To save your pathetic hide!"

Emilian's breath caught in his throat.

"E-Elder...how can...how can you say that? How can you-"

"Pesha found him in the forest like this. It took all the strength he had to bring the body back!" The elder's cracked lips spewed forth spittle as he emphasized the last few words.

"But that still doesn't explain what happened to him! Emilian cried out.

"THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM!" The old man boomed. He kicked the body, rolling it over. One of the women screamed.

Blood. Lots of it. Some dried and some still wet, covering the side of the man's face and neck. Emilian squinted and tried to look away, but something caught his eye...

Holes. Twin holes were set deep into Ferkas' throat. Puncture wounds about two inches apart.

'It couldn't be...'

"This is what your greed has brought us!" The elder's words cut the boy, who trembled at his feet. "This is what our patience with you has yielded! What was it all for!? What was worth this man's life!? This!?!?" He snatched the cloak and tore it from Emilian's shoulders. "This cotton and dye was enough to risk Ferkas' life? The man who cared for you like his own!?"

"No...no..." Emilian covered his ears as stinging hot tears streamed down his cheeks. "No...No..." his moans turned into pained wails as the elder continued to bellow, years of anger and frustration poisoning every syllable that spewed from his mouth.

"And now you disgrace this man's honor with your tears!? A gypsy man never cries! You bring shame upon this good tribe! More importantly, you bring pain and heartache! You aren't a gypsy at all! You are nothing!"

"Stop it!" Emilian shrieked. The elder continued to yell, veins rising from his blotched neck and temples.

"You will hurt us with your presence no more, child! From this moment forth, you are banished from the tribe!" He pounded his fist on the wall of the caravan, sending it rocking back and forth. "May God have mercy on your soul, because this world will not! Begone with you!"

Emilian screamed. So many thoughts and emotions swirled around his very core. A violent maelstrom of pain, anger, betrayal, guilt, and shame. When he finally cleared his head, he found himself running. When he realized he was running, he ran faster.

Vayne was completely uninterested in any Ragnarok or beacon, but the mention of her brother peeked her interest. At first, Vayne was contemplating just torturing the information out of Liesolette, she obviously knew a lot and what she knows, Vayne could make her speak. But, in this strange world trying to decipher cryptic messages would be easier if she had someone like Liesolette to do the bulk of the work for her, even if she did talk in riddles.

Vayne had not sipped her tea. It was beginning to turn cold, and Liesolette was just staring at Vayne, waiting for her reply. “Okay, I shall accompany you. If Keith is chasing after this warlock then I will as well. Besides, I have questions for him.”

Leisolette looked please. It was the first emotion that Vayne saw on her face other than her indifferent pleasantries. “I have a few conditions first. Number one, you will not interfere with any of my feeding. Number two, I agree to only go with you as long as there is interest in it for me. If I am to find my brother before the end of all of this Ragnarok business then you are on your own. And third, I do not owe anything to your Master. I am not a mercenary who can be bartered to wage his battles for him.

Now that we have come to an understanding, I am hungry and tired. We will leave at first light."

Vayne did not wait for her response. She had spotted an attractive man purchase room and board for the night at the inn desk. She followed the man to his room. Knocking on the door lightly Vayne put on her best alluring grin. When he opened the door, she was allowed entry. She gave one last wink over her shoulder to Liesolette.

Tonight Vayne would be sated in both flesh and blood, and she would begin again tomorrow.

Light footsteps echoed on the linoleum floor. Lieselotte turned to the mirror hanging above the dingy porcelain sink, a row of wooden stalls behind her. She stared into the mirror for a moment, gazing upon her smirking face in the reflection. The air was still and silent.

"What is the matter?" She called out loud, "Too chagrined by your decrepitude?"
Her words were met with silence. The girl paused, seemingly awaiting some sign of acknowledgment. Nothing happened.

"Very well. Ensconce yourself if you feel so compelled. I anticipate your next display of bravura." With that, Lieselotte began to laugh. Her mocking tones were ceased when one of the stall doors blew open and crashed against the wall with a furious bang. Some of the wood splintered upon impact.

Lieselotte's smile never faltered. Without another word she primly walked out the door, politely excusing herself as another, obviously inebriated woman stumbled in.



o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o



Twelve days had passed since the vampire had awoken from her slumber. Before it seemed she could stretch some warmth back into her muscles, she was involved in the affairs of which she couldn't care less for. The only piece of truth that kept her feet moving, trekking on, was about her brother. It couldn't be denied; Keith had gone. Left the family castle for one reason or another. Vayne could feel it. It was like looking at a puzzle with a missing piece - no matter how you may try and concentrate on the rest of the picture, still something just felt...off. And so, she walked...

Lieselotte's words were dubious at best. Based in truth perhaps, but Vayne was not the type to trust others so easily...especially after...

"Do you not sense it, Milady?" Lieselotte's honey voice broke the silence like crashing china.

The women had left Bistritz and the border of Romania a few days ago. Following the roads on foot, they eventually discovered the outline of a church steeple silhouette that marked the village of Szentendere. If the trip continued as planned, it was just a few more hours to Budapest where they could catch a carriage all the way to France. After the trek to this unimpressive backwater, however, anything near the French border felt like a faraway dream to Vayne.

Stopping in her tracks, the vampire's senses began to kick in. The air the two had walked into did feel strange. A powerful something was emanating a rather heavy aura. Vayne silently cursed herself for not sensing it sooner.

'Goddammit. I still haven't fully recovered from my slumber...'

The sun was nearing the horizon. In another hour or so, the sky would be ablaze with orange hues. Although Vayne could easily press on until she reached Budapest, something tugged at her mind. Her intuition, though perhaps just as rusty as the rest of her, was pressuring her to stay.

"We'll stay here tonight." She said, "I should like to rest and feed here before we reach the noisy city."

Lieselotte smirked. "Prurient for blood, Milady? Or do you thirst for the provenance of this aura?"

Vayne wore a smirk of her own. "Both," she said carefully.

Few words had been said between the two women. In fact, Lieselotte rarely unless spoken to. Vayne had no qualms about this in the slightest. Every time the girl opened her mouth Vayne felt own her blood pressure rise a little anyway. Silence truly proved to be golden.

Proceeding down the cobblestone path further into town, they took notice of the people around them. Several farmers stumbled around in a nearby field, barely able to lift their pitchforks. In the town square, a group of children sat listlessly on the ground. Some of them even appeared to be sleeping. The vampire's brow furrowed at such a peculiar sight. Coupled with the heavy air that permeated the tiny hamlet, she couldn't help but feel uneasy.

Pushing open the thick, wooden door of the local tavern, Vayne and Lieselotte stepped inside. Eyes adjusting to the dimly lit room, they noticed a few patrons lazily congregating at tables by the hearth. A few of them turned their heads slowly to get a glimpse of the new patrons. Vayne strode up to the counter and discovered the innkeeper asleep, face buried in his folded arms. The dull chink of gold being tossed onto the counter startled the man. Struggling to open his eyes, he squinted at the vampire.

"Room and board. Tonight." She called down to him, already going up the staircase to the second level. Finding a room at the end of the hall, Vayne entered, shut the door behind her and sat down on the bed. A light cloud of dust rose up when she did so. Lieselotte strolled over to the window and looked out onto the village below. Not a single person was in sight.

"Why, the vesper bell has not even yet tolled and the proletariat appear enervated," she said.

Vayne said nothing, but her mind was at work. What could possibly be causing the townsfolk to act this way? Everyone appeared to be completely drained of energy. Whatever aura that seeped into this village was obviously to blame. The question remained, though...what exactly was it?

Pondering over the many possibilities, Vayne decided to rest up herself before nightfall was upon them...




o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o




CRASH! BANG! Vayne jolted upright in the bed. The room was shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the lit candle on the corner table. Lieselotte stood nearby.

BANG! Another thunderous sound rattled the door to the room. Vayne's keen eyes could see the wood on the doorframe beginning to give way. Something was on the other side of that door. Something violent.
"What the hell is going on here!?" The vampire demanded. Before she could get her answer, another slam saw the door crashing to the floor below. Wood splinters and sawdust clouded the air. Vayne was up and at the ready before it even hit the ground.

From the darkness of the corridor, human figures stepped into the room. Vayne instantly recognized several of them as the men she'd seen earlier in the foyer below. The innkeeper was among them. Two of the men carried pocket knives. A third clutched a smoldering fire iron. Though their features were void of emotion, malice clouded their eyes.
Lieselotte began to back away.

"Their eyes!" She called out to Vayne, "They are being impelled by sorcery!"

As the men crossed the threshold into the room, Vayne saw that there were more people behind the first. Each of their faces were trancelike, but she could feel the rage emanating from within.
Something was not right in Szentendre and Vayne was quickly figuring out what that something was...

This was the first time Vayne had ever seen emotion- real emotion, splatter itself across Lieselotte’s face. It was ironic that the faces before them were devoid of anything, save for a cloud of malice, and only they were able to rattle this aristocratic woman.
Vayne was more angry with herself for not already feeling the thick band of malice that permeated the very air of Szentendre. Vayne didn’t really know what her solution out of this was, but she knew she had to act. With a small running start Vayne jumped at the innkeeper as he was crossing the small threshold. A firm, but not impactful, drop kick sent the man tumbling backwards and into his lifeless companions, having them all fall over one another, tangled in a mess of bodies.

Vayne landed lithely on her feet, and whipped her head around to wear Lieselotte was standing, motionless. “Don’t just stand there, move!”

“You have barricaded our single route of asylum, to where do you fathom to “move”?!” Lieselotte screamed, emphasizing move, as if it did not belong in her regular vocabulary. Vayne had to make a split decision, massacre this town or attempt to cleanse the malice. Her only thoughts when thinking of this is what was tactically her best decision, and she knew which that would be. How could Vayne hope to find Keith if she left a massacre in her wake?

Groans from the possessed crowd in the doorway brought Vayne’s attention back to the present. Vayne pulled her knife from her bodice, turned to Lieselotte, and grabbed her left wrist.

“Unhand me this-!”

“Oh shut up! I’m just gonna borrow this.” And with that, Vayne ran the length of her blade against the palm of Lieselotte’s hand lightly, creating a shallow wound. Vayne then ran the opposite side of the blade on her own palm. Both sides now coated in blood, Vayne used it to draw a symbol of the Gorgon on the ground. The men began to move closer now, no longer tangled in their own limbs.

Vayne stabbed the ground in the center of the Gorgon’s bloody eye. With a bright flash of green light and swirling energy, the men stopped moving. Carved into their legs and arms were glowing green symbols, reminiscent of serpents.

“That will keep them held there as long as the dagger remains in the ground. It is a symbol of the Gorgon, their limbs feel as if they are made of stone.” Vayne felt slightly ashamed of that. Her family could use this magic by inscribing symbols in the air and releasing energy, Vayne needed a focal point, blood power, and could not hold it without all of it remaining intact.

“Let’s go find the seal that is binding this place in malice. I hope you’re good at breaking seals, I have almost no magical use without my dagger.” As Vayne passed by the innkeeper, she nonchalantly tore out his neck, draining him completely.

“Let’s go.” She then jumped out of the window, and into the deserted streets of Szentendre.

Shards of glass glistened, reflecting the moonlight as they cascaded to the cobblestone street below. With an almost inaudible thud Vayne was hitting the ground, bending into a crouched position. Without so much as a look back, she was running, shaking the glass bits from her hair. Several townspeople were in the vicinity, stumbling behind alleyways or clumisily making their way down the street. Making their way to her. She needed to act fast. The malice here was incredible. Powerful, yes, but also blind. It was as if whoever or whatever was causing it felt no need to conceal themselves. It was a foolish thing to do, like putting all cards on the table at once. Looking over her shoulder, Vayne saw Lieselotte hovering nearby. Her sapphire eyes were unflinching. There was definitely more to this waify twit than meets the eye. The idea left a rather unpleasant taste in her mouth, but Vayne was sure it would take their combined efforts to get to the bottom of this little predicament.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



The life forms were moving. On the run. Soon they would find him here, of that he was sure. Their auras were different. Powerful. While his senses couldn't tell exactly what the two beings were, he knew they would prove to be useful. Delicious meals for him to consume with gusto. Then he would absorb their powers and make them his own. From the tiny, circular window of the church steeple he watched as the town, now his town, came to life at his command. It was incredible! Overcome with anticipation he found himself giggling as he planned the events to come. This emotion was reassuring. It proved that he still had a grasp on his humanity...right? That despite his recent transformation he was still capable of love, hate, sorrow, joy... Ever since he'd obtained this power all he felt was an insatiable hunger.

The church bell rang twice - A mournful, ominous toll. How appropriate for his new guests! These bells would be their funeral dirge, this once holy sanctuary their burial ground. Whatever feelings of uncertainty he might have had were forgotten as he prepared for the confrontation. This was his town, his battleground. These two victims would soon know the true meaning of despair.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Vayne leapt over the split-rail fence that bordered a small garden. As a rusty pitchfork swung at her head, she ducked and threw her weight forward, her shoulder hitting the farmer who was lazily wielding the weapon. He fell back, emitting a low moan as he hit the ground. Did that hurt him? Did he feel pain? Vayne wondered about this briefly, watching the man get back to his feet. These townspeople...they were being controlled by another. Turned into tools that were used until they broke and were discarded. They were imperfect, however. These pawns had no stamina, no energy in their movements. Sluggish and clumsy, they blindly followed a single order; kill those who were not like themselves. It was a novice tactic, truly. Vayne had had enough experience in dark arts to know that whoever had cast this curse was inexperienced.

From off in the distance, a worn hatchet flew through the air. Vayne did not need to duck out of its way, but as the chipped blade landed a few feet away, she knew things were quickly getting out of control. Backed against the side of an old farm house, Vayne and Lieselotte found themselves surrounded by twenty or more villagers. Men, women, and children alike were making their way toward the two. Vayne did not want to resort to killing innocents, but unless she found the source of the curse, she
would be left with little other choice.

Just then, the church bells began to toll. Two chimes echoed throughout the tiny, deranged village. Vayne turned her head up to the belfry. Her gaze caught sight of a figure passing by. It blocked out the dim light cast from within the church. A combination of keen senses and woman's intuition screamed at her that she'd found the source of the malice.

"The church!" She called to Lieselotte. With a final look at the oncoming horde of peasants, she turned and fled for the town sanctuary.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



A single kick sent the heavy wooden doors swinging on their hinges. Stepping inside, her eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lighting. It looked to be a normal, if drab church. Rows of pews were laid out before a shabby pulpit. Candles were scattered about the room, tiny flames flickering in the stale air. Everything lay still. Time was of the essence, however. It would only be a matter of minutes before the townspeople made their way to this place as well. Vayne was not in the mood for games.

"Well?" She called out hotly, "We have to be the first guests you've had to this backwater in quite some time! Is this how you greet us?"

She stepped through the sanctuary, careful footsteps echoing lightly. Lieselotte remained still...ever vigilant.

"I know you're hiding here!" Vayne called again, "Let us just be done with this, yes?"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Do you always ruin the fun like that?" A voice sounded out from behind the vampire. Her senses on high alert, she turned slowly, careful not to appear too cautious. From atop the balcony that overlooked the room, Vayne saw the outline of a crouched figure.

"That won't do. No, that won't do at all! This isn't right! You're spoiling everything!"

A cluster of candles around the figure suddenly burst into flame. They cast a warm light on the figure. Warm, but not comforting.

It was a man. A young man. Greasy hair hung in long strands over his eyes. His face was gaunt and his eyes hungry, pupils shaking about incessantly. He stood up, revealing a toned body clad in black armor. Again, he spoke...

"I like you. Your face is full and fat! I'll bet it's delicious!" He licked his lips at Vayne before laughing to himself. It was a raspy, unsettling laugh.

"I can't wait to consume you both! Then I'll be even more powerful than before!" Again, he burst into a fit of laughter. Vayne was quickly becoming annoyed at his incessant babble. This fool didn't have the slightest idea what he was dealing with.

"He is naught but a neophyte, milady, nescient of his own puissance." Lieselotte called out to Vayne primly.

"Grrraaaagh! What did she say!? What did she say about me!?" The man called out wildly. His eyes bulged with rage.
Vayne smiled darkly. "She said you're nothing but a lost little lamb here. That I am the wolf. And it is the providence of nature that the wolf will slaughter the lamb."

With that, the man let out a scream. Clutching his head he doubled over as the windows lining the church walls exploded, sending tiny shards of glass raining down on the women. Taking the opportunity to surprise him, Vayne leapt forward to the balcony, driving an elbow into the man's stomach. He yelped in shock and toppled backward off the railing and onto the floor of the second level. Rolling over, he got to his feet and charged at Vayne like a rabid animal. She spun to the side as he charged past, splintering the bannister with his weight. With a single bound, he landed atop the chandelier in the center of the room.

He was human, once. That much, he could remember. Bits and pieces of mundane memories flashed about in his head. They were cloudy now, like hoarfrost on a windowpane. Sometimes it was difficult for him to remember. His mortality was but a dream and morning had crept its way across the eastern sky.

Images of a man. A tall man.

'English?'

Dressed in black.

'That top hat...'

He had been the one.

'This power.'

He had given him this...

'power.'


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The tiny chapel of Szentendre was ablaze in moments. Wooden beams, overtaken by flame, began to crumple and fall to the sanctuary below, leaving embers and clouds of ash in their wake.

Marching through the chaos, the demon had a bead on Vayne. Eyes mad with avarice locked with her own, and with a forceful wave of his arm she was being pushed, flying backward. The impact against the wall took the vampire's breath away and she felt her spine convulse. A blur of motion and the demon had her by the throat, lifting her up against the wall. She struggled, attempting to draw a breath, but it only caused the man to increase the pressure on her. Vayne slid a single, blood-soaked hand behind her back, feeling dizziness overtake her.

"I'll bet you taste delicious..." The demon smiled at her. Then, he opened his mouth, revealing a long, pink tongue wet and dripping with saliva. It extended out, and out, and out. Reaching Vayne's cheek, the demon's tongue protruded further, and she felt the hot slime run across her face.

A few more seconds was all that she needed. Lifting her legs up, she drove the heel of her boot into his throat. The demon's grip loosened slightly as he began to cough. Vayne brought her other foot up, her toe catching him directly in the chin. Letting her go, the gluttonous demon shrieked, his long tongue falling limply to the floor before being retracted back into his mouth in a flash. Blinded by rage, he charged at Vayne with all his weight.

It was exactly what she'd hoped for.

Vayne spun to the left. On the wall behind her was a tiny glyph, handwritten in blood. The shaky arcane symbols still wet and running. As the demon drew near, she thrust her hand behind his head and pushed, driving him face first into the glyph. A large, vertical fissure formed in the wall on impact. Staggering backward and holding his face, the demon let out a gutteral cry - and then silence. His body shuddered once before becoming completely motionless. Every muscle still, not even a breath could be heard from him. Beads of sweat trailing down her face, Vayne smiled inwardly as she remembered how her brother Keith had shown her how to perfect the symbols for the paralysis glyph. The demon was frozen, unable to move or act in any way, so long as her glyph remained on the wall.

A loud crash sounded above the roar of the blaze and Vayne watched as the large, wooden double doors blew open. The rush of air sent an explosion of flame into the faces of the townspeople at the head of the mob. They went down instantly, fire consuming their bodies. The rest of the horde paid them no mind as they stepped over the burning carcasses and into the inferno that was once their place of worship. Into the inferno that would be their demise.

Vayne's eyes scanned the remains of the room. Lieselotte was nowhere to be found. Either she escaped somehow or she's trapped. The vampire could work with either scenario.

Another loud explosion of flame and more beams began to fall from overhead. For the first time in hundreds of years, Vayne felt a tiny shudder in her breast. She needed the demon to die here on his own battleground. The fire would purge the evil and purify Szentendre, but at what cost? Would there even be a Szentendre after tonight?

The heat from the flames was becoming too intense. Thick, black smoke was beginning to make her lungs feel like they too would combust at any moment. Looking back over her shoulder, Vayne took one last, mournful glance at the mindless villagers. Muttering an inaudible apology, she lept through one of the shattered windows to safety.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Vayne watched the sun rise over Szentendre against the flaming backdrop of the village chapel. Lieselotte, who had apparently escaped the blaze as well, joined her in silence. When the last remaining embers began to fade, the vampire turned her back and continued onward.