Cold. So cold.
It was as cold as death.
It was late winter in Transylvania, Romania. The old castle was full of dungeons, hidden passages, things that only seemed medieval. It was a castle that belonged to the Helsing family and for now was being used as a prison.
Or some torture chamber of horrors.
The darkness of a solitary cell was just as freezing as the snowy weather outside the bars of the window, the snow finding its way inside somehow. A bed of hay lay in one dark corner as the sound of chains could be heard as they were shaking.
The person trapped within the chains was no saint. Yet the torment she was going through was enough to make one wonder if she would become a martyr. She was skin and bone nearly, wounds like lashes covering every inch of her nude body, her skin a deathly pale. Her long curly black hair looked lifeless as she did. Occasionally a cough that sounded so sickly would come from her mouth, blood on the corner of her mouth from it.
She looked like a concentration camp prisoner.
She had scars of old on her body as well, one on her left shoulder that looked like something had bitten her badly. Another scar lay above her breasts, a slash mark of sorts. Her eyes, a crystal blue with pupils slit like a cat or snake, were blank. She slowly lifted her head hearing footsteps, seeing the sliding panel of her prison door window slide open to see if she was dead or alive.
Yet the vampire behind this door was different. She had never seen him before.
He stepped in after unlocking the door closing it carefully behind him. He had red hair, red like fire and a patch over one eye. He wore black pants and a long black coat. He was carrying a bundle within his arms as his hand waved, the chains melting from her. The collar that was chained around her neck also was gone.
The moonlight shone on his face, his green eye visible. He was a vampire noble, it seemed, lord from the looks of things. He knelt down extending a gloved hand to her face feeling her recoil at his touch. He gave a small chuckle.
"Lass, thy is safe," he whispered, in a voice that sounded old Irish.
She stared at him. He wasn't like the others, wasn't looking at her for revenge or lust…or downright madness. He slowly moved dressing her, the clothes a bit big due to her emaciated look. Yet time was on the essence and he could care less for looks. He finished the look with a black leather monster hunter fedora hat on her head and a pair of twin pistols in a gun belt, two stainless steel Smith & Wesson custom made semi-automatic ones. They apparently did hold some value to the girl. He then lifted her up slowly and carefully in her arms, carrying her down one of the passageways.
"Get thyself to Budapest," he said as he moved fast. "Ye must survive…for the Chosen One has awakened. Ye must protect her."
Her eyes looked up at him as she soon felt the cold air of the outdoors. It was night time, thankfully. He walked through the snow getting her halfway there as he put money in her pocket setting her down.
"Go!" he ordered.
She stood up on shaky feet and began to walk through the snow, her determination making her move, as her sickly body tried to hold her back. She turned to look back as the red headed vampire was gone. She felt the snow falling as she began to move through the snow banks and to the river as she panted coughing hard. She crossed the river as she continued to move through the sunrise before suddenly collapsing in the cold snow panting softly.
She could continue no further.
As her eyes closed, she began to wonder, what had led to this. Would she truly die out here?
As the life she had known for the fifteen years of her life began to go through her mind, it's starts in Romania…and into Japan.
The most hated slayer in the world…the heir of the Helsing family.
