Seduction and Death Chapter 1: The History of Drake, a pitch black / riddick fanfic

Author: Furyan Goddess
Title: Seduction and Death
Rating: NC-17 for language, gore, blood, death, blood drinking and M/M SLASH
Fandom: Riddick and Blade Trinity
Pairing: Riddick/Drake (aka Dracula)
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Riddickverse or the Bladeverse. I make no money from this or the use of the photos. This is done for fun.
Fatal/Daywalker is a song by RZA and I make no money from it either. It is from Blade Trinity movie/soundtrack. It's a kick ass song :) It's use here is to give you a quick run down of who Drake is. Some liberties were taken with the Blade story line, so be warned.
Feedback: YES, I love feedback. It helps me grow and gives me ideas. No shreads
Archive: VX and ask
A/N: Big hugs to Hrefna for he help w/ rewording and bouncing of ideas. Thanks babe :) and thanks to Helen for beta.

"Kill one man, you're a murderer. Kill a million, a king. Kill them all... a God." Drake, Blade Trinity.

Prologue
The History of Drake

He was born on Earth in ancient Sumeria over seven thousand years ago. His father was a Sumerian god and his mother a sacrificial virgin chosen solely for the purpose of bearing a child. But the god's fatherly pride quickly became rage, and though he'd never admit it -- fear , when he looked at his firstborn son.

Surely no god would produce such a monstrosity as what was laid in his arms. The devil's spawn, he called him after the babe had turned his head and bit his arm with sharp fangs and began to suckle at the blood.

The god, sure his wife was an adulterer, had her beheaded and her body burned before all records of her existence were expunged. Then, he renounced the child and tried to have it killed and sent back to hell where it belonged.

The god quickly found that the child would not die. Nothing he did would kill him. The boy would only regenerate and grow stronger with each attempt. He grew faster. More powerful, until one day, the child became stronger than any man, ever. He was demigod, after all.

The child's outward appearance was that of perfection. Beautiful in every way. The face of divinity. Dark hair, amber colored eyes and a body that proved his godliness. But as he matured to man, he began to change. Became able to take on different forms, mimic others, including his father who chose to ignore him and pretend that he didn't exist.

Upon his 18th birthday, all of his god powers were unleashed and he took his true form for the first time. That of a large, horned beast with a tri-mandible jaw and mottled red skin. A truly fear inspiring sight to anyone, even a god.

When the beast turned on his father, the god realized his mistake in mistreating the child. The god explained that he couldn't kill him without creating a rift in the natural order of things. If the god was to die, another god would have to absorb his power or life as they knew it would end.

So the child let him live, briefly, until he found a way to channel and absorb his fathers power.

Lured into a false since of security, the god realized what kind of weapon he had in his child. He was born the perfect predator. He had the immortality of his god-father. Intelligence beyond measure and compiled with his bloodlust and violent ways, he'd became an unstoppable force. An army unto himself.

Their reign of terror didn't last long. The child had no intentions of being someone's puppet, even his fathers. He killed the god and absorbed his power and became the most powerful being ever born of man or gods.

Through the ages, he'd cut a bloody path leaving death, destruction, dismemberment and his personal favorite, impalement, in his wake.

He sneered in the face of Christians that chose to follow only one god. The Lord and his son Jesus Christ. He'd met Jesus and found him quite amusing. Jesus tried to save Drake from himself. From what he'd become. Jesus told Drake that if only he'd accept The Lord as his savior, he'd go to heaven, but Drake's idea of heaven was different than Jesus and most others.

Heaven for Drake was a place where blood flowed in the streets and the screams of pain and torture could be heard at all times. A constant hum of fear and violence. The scent of blood and pain and death. That was heaven to Drake.

Drake flaunted his kills in the faces of God's followers and their fear of him and his kind grew. He became the face of evil. The devil. The thing that haunted their dreams and the monster they used to scare their children in line.

The demigod discovered that if he chose for his victim to live, they would, becoming what he was, but different. He hadn't set out to build an army, but to find one, perhaps a handful, like himself. But humans were weak and not one he'd converted proved their worth.

They couldn't walk in daylight, like him. Couldn't control the bloodlust as he could. They couldn't shift shapes, as only he was able. They became his puppets and he detested each and every one of them.

They were like a virus. A disease. His curse to the world, and they just passed on his gift of immortality, thinking it was their right to do so. They were very, very wrong. Only a god had the right to grant life.

Over many millennia, he grew disgusted with the "modern" world and what man and his vampires had become. After searching for over five thousand years for the perfect companion, he grew weary of his quest and of the life around him. So he settled down in his temple in what would one day be Iraq and slumbered until someone dared wake him.

Earth 2004

L.A.

They woke him to help them kill Blade because they were incompetent. Unable to kill a lone half-breed. They also thought that Drake's blood would make them Daywalkers. They were wrong and weak. Pathetic and Drake hated them all.

"Blade. Ready to Die?" Drake asked. He'd thought maybe Blade was the one he'd been searching for. He was wrong. Blade chose to deny what he was. Who he was. A daywalker like himself. Half vampire, half man. All weak. It was time Drake ended his useless life.

Blade resorted to artificial means to feed. Serums. He denied the bloodlust. Denied who and what he was. A killer. The thought made Drake sick. Why would you deny such a gift? He was so strong, so beautiful. Blade had such untapped rage swirling inside of him, ready to be unleashed in a killing frenzy, but he kept it in check. Hated that part of him. Hated Drake for creating the vampire race.

"I was born ready, Motherfucker" Blade growled in response. And he was. He was born of a mother who was undergoing the transformation from human to vampire. They cut him from her, but not in time. He became half human, half vampire and wholly something else.

There was no cure for Blade. It was in his genetic makeup. He wasn't a pureblood, but he wasn't a convert either. So yes, he was ready to die. He'd killed off all that was human in him along time ago, but he never fully embraced his vampire nature. Only used it to kill his kind and humans who were wanna be's, familiars. Blade hated familiars more than vampires.

YO,
Daywalker...
Yo, Yo...
Daywalker...

It's the feast of the blood with Sin,
Unleash the Beast within,
I walk around with the strength of a hundred men,
YOU'D BEST TO RUN BEFORE I COUNT TO TEN!
Blood drippin' from my canine like a fountain pen.

It seems I've been asleep for a thousand years!
The way my world had changed -- it bring me a thousand tears!
Prince of Darkness, day-walks through the rays of light,
To this breed of vampire, I'm the prototype,
The shape-shifting, mirror-image, flash photo-type,
To everlast, an original red blood: O-type

"He was born perfect -- And just like the great white shark, this guy has never had to evolve." Hannibal King told Blade as he laid out the history of Drake, aka Dracula.

King had been a vampire for over five years before he was taken in by Abigail Whistler who cured him. Now, he had traces of vampire in him. But he too, walked in a shadow world. Mostly human but with a touch of something else.

He retained the sharp senses of a vampire, along with the endurance and speed of healing. Not like Blade, but not fully human either. There was just no way to remove all traces of the infection.

Drake contemplated changing him again, remaking him vampire once he realized that Blade wasn't ready to give in and play nice. But King was too annoying for his tastes. He'd kill him for his smart ass comments in days. It wasn't worth the effort.

Try do as my Name: That's Fatal!
Try to claim my Fame, but that's Fatal!
About to bring the pain: That's Fatal!
Bite through your jugular vein?! That's Fatal!

Daywalker...

Daywalker...
Come on, walk with me!
Come on, walk with me!

"You're not immortal. I must have heard hundreds of you rodents make the same claim. Each one of them have tasted the end of my sword" Blade sneered to Drake. He was ready, willing to kill Drake. He hated him for what Blade had become. It was Drake, the original vampire that had ruined the world.

How many people had died over the centuries because of this one evil being?

Drake bared his teeth to Blade. He just didn't get it. He couldn't be killed. He'd live forever, or until he chose to end his own life. Only he could end his life, nothing else of this world would be fatal to him. He'd heal, regenerate. It would have to be Drake's will to die before he finally succumbed to the end. The only thing that would make Drake willing to succumb would be the loss of his mate.

So far, things weren't going well in that department. So Drake planned on living a long, long time.

I strike back with a vengeance, the Father of your descendants,
And I can't be deflected, by your Silver Cross pendants,
Bloody Holy Water, you make the false images,
One swing from the sickle
-- Ahh!! Your life diminishes!!

Sting like the scorpion! Strike with the force of Cain!
My blood is known to revitalize the corpse of men:
In the last days, they said the Dead would walk again!
The blind, deaf, and the dumb will talk again!

Daywalker...
TRY TO USE MY NAME? That's Fatal!
Daywalker...

Trying to claim my Fame? That's Fatal!
Daywalker...

About to bring the pain! That's Fatal!
Daywalker...

BITE THROUGH YOUR JUGULAR VEIN?!
That's Fatal!
Daywalker...

Blade, Hannibal King and Abigail Whistler took down Drake that day, back in 2004. But, they didn't kill him.

No, you can't kill Drake. He's immortal.

He went to sleep, burrowed himself deep in the ground and slept. Slept until he found the strength to face the human race again. True, he was injured, appeared almost dead, but it was disgust that made him sleep. Again.

Humans disgusted Drake. They were stupid and simple minded. They polluted their bodies and their blood with drugs and alcohol. Disease was rampant. They had no honor. No self respect. No code.

They just went about, scurrying around like cockroaches. Oblivious to the danger that lurked in the shadows waiting to claim them. Drake didn't have to wait in the shadows. No, he was a daywalker and nothing could stop his hunt.

Drake hated vampires too. They'd grown bloated in their own power. Power he gave them. He was the progenitor of the species, but they thought of him only as a myth. As a joke to print on cereal boxes and dress up for Halloween. Fuckin' insulting.

Vampires wouldn't be a problem now, being vampires were all wiped out when Abby shot Drake with something called Daystar. A chemical that was toxic to vampires and with the aid of Drake's blood, made the killing rate 100. But they couldn't kill Drake.

Nothing can.

So... he slept until the soil above him became saturated with blood. The scent, the bloodlust and violence woke him from his slumber to once again, face the day.