Part Two: Cthulhu Dawn

Note: This story is a sequel to one of my previous ones, Illusions. I recommend you read that first, as I only keep building on my story lines.

For those of you already familiar with the story line, I pretty firm set on writing three more short stories for D, all tying in my first one and taking him through his quest. They are a departure from the first. Less love oriented and more drama and inner turmoil. As you can see from the title of this story, the name of the village I put D in becomes important. This first chapter may seem rather odd, but I assure it will all come together soon. Enjoy! )

And of course, D is not my original idea, neither is Cthulhu or Dracula. They are only borrowed.

Chapter One: Fhtagn

"His condition cannot be described by any word in the languages of man, but in the tongue of the Old Ones he is said to be fhtagn, which means variously meditating, sleeping or dreaming." - The Necronomicon.

The First Dream: Lily

The Year 3,020 A.D

Shortly after the first rays of moonlight struck her closed eyelids a gorgeous melody coaxed her fully into wakefulness. Captivated, the woman rose from the silken and bloodstained sheets, the moonlight glittering off her pallid skin and haloing her naked form, accentuating her dark hair and eyes.

As the flowing melody played onward her heart thundered in her breast and she covered herself lightly with a dressing gown and began to hunt for the source. Stepping carelessly over the stiff corpses of the humans that littered the floor, she moved out of the vast bedchamber and into the immense sitting room. It was coming from a piano, music so gorgeous that it summoned tears to her pitiless eyes. The only thing more beautiful than those notes where the slender and talented fingers that they flowed from. The creator was bowed low over the keys, his ebony eyes heavy with concentration, and few dark strands of his hair escaped from his pony tail and drifted across his face. His features where narrow, gaunt and utterly elegant, so perfect they were almost feminine…no angelic was more fitting. His was a face like shaped by the Gods themselves.

It was a far cry from the face that had haunted her mercilessly through her life in both her dreams and wakefulness, a twisted, hideous visage shaped not of Gods, but by the horrific power of the stars. That was the face of her tornasuk.

Smiling, denying the sting of tears in her eyes she crossed the distance between her and the elegant musician and settled down by his side. The gorgeous youth did not seem to pay her heed, his fingers only kept dancing along the keys with impossible dexterity.

"You play beautifully son of Dracula." She murmured.

She saw him stiffen slightly, but his melody never faltered, "I asked you not to call me that." He voice was deep, and steely yet somehow gentle. Almost as if a gleaming, jeweled blade had been granted a voice, "My name is D."

She laughed haughtily, "D? Come now that makes you sound like one of those pathetic, stripling Hunters. Why are you ashamed to share your name with the Sacred Ancestor?

"There is nothing sacred about him.", he answered frigidly.

"Now Dracula, you speak of sacrilege!"

D said nothing, and did not regard her in the slightest as he kept on with his haunting sonata for the next few minutes. When the last note drifted away he raised his eyes to the vampire woman, his bride to be in truth, and he gripped her wrist violently. "What are you doing just staring at me? Why not start fulfilling your future duties and get me something to drink."

Dutifully the woman nodded, smiling ever so softly, "What do you wish, Dracula?"

"A blonde." He answered although there was no real interest in his voice as he rose and moved toward one of the many floor length windows, pulling aside the heavy drape. She left the room and returned a moment later clutching a wildly struggling blond slave to her breast, locking her there with her iron grip. The woman put up quite a fight but as D turned around and met the woman's eyes with his own dark, cold ones all trace of resistance was lost. The girl stood stark still, transfixed by the way the moonlight shone off his marble skin. The son of Dracula needed only the beckon with is hand, and the woman rushed into his opened arms, sighing with rapture as she fell against his broad chest. The vampire bride watched with her own heated gaze as D's eyes burned crimson, and with a slender hand her grabbed the slave's neck and forced her to bare her throat. His lips curled back in a beastly snarl, baring thick, inch long fangs and he fell onto the girl's neck, biting hard and deeply. A pained, yet rapturous groan escaped the girls mouth.

When he'd drank his fill he let the body crumble down onto the ground, along with the other scattered corpses of humans that littered his chamber from the night before. "You're quite well endowed for a dhampir." She chimed softly, twittering.

The son of Dracula only rolled his onyx colored eyes, an impatient growl rising in his chest, "Don't make foolish innuendos."

The vampire bride said nothing, and only moved closer in his unwilling embrace, pressing herself up against his muscled chest, D stood completely immobile. Her gaze fell to the scene past the window, down onto the miserable, bloodied backs of the humans that toiled desperately in the quarries. None of them where clothed, the King of Vampires worked them until the clothing fell from their backs and then until their bones snapped from beneath them. Castle Dracula sprawled wider, higher and more luxurious than any other castle within Nobel knowledge, and if the King of Vampires had his way than generation, after generation of slaves would work to ensure that it remained that way forever. The view of the wretched humans stretched on for miles either way.

"It's gorgeous isn't it Dracula? Seeing those dogs in fields…knowing that we will forever surpass them. Nothing will ever tear our kind from the heavens….we are as the stars, beautiful, ageless and immortal."

The son of Dracula said nothing….or rather he should have. This was not how it was supposed to be….no she could remember it well. No…this time had passed. This was just a memory now…a random dream. She knew it. D had said nothing. But this time he was speaking. His voice was guttural, and distorted as though some other terrible being was speaking through him.

You brainless child. The stars are not deathless. There will come a time when the universe flickers and dies into darkness, it's as inevitable as your downfall you foolish bloodsucker.

Desperately the vampire bride blinked and shook her head trying to discern between the world of dreams and memory, "Did you say something Dracula…"

His black eyes where distant, lifeless orbs. Again his lips moved but the voice was not his.

Wake up Lily Odette. Stop dreaming. You have work to do. I have work to do.

"No…no I won't! Leave me alone!" she panicked and turned from his grasp, but the dhampir held her fast his strength far outweighing her own. She shrieked in horror as she saw that his face had changed no longer fair and beautiful, but was bulbous and writhing with gelatinous tentacles, three pairs of small, glaring red eyes rested on each side of the twisted continence. As horrific as it was, and despite the scream it raised from her panicked form, it was a face she knew so well…it was of her tornasuk.

"Let me go…" she begged, powerless against the claw wrapped about her supple body.

Wake up, bloodsucker. Wake up, Lily Odette. Wake me up….

It was the year 12,615 when the former vampire bride, Lily Odette opened her eyes and writhed, screaming out in terror within her coffin. For 700 years she'd lain in hibernation, her body showing only the faintest signs of life yet she had dreamed. She dreamed of days long past, such as the short lived day she'd loved the son of Dracula, dreamed of the shameful swine that had over run the world above. Long ago her tornasuk had called this sleep ftaghan, and had lead her into the same living dead state as himself.

Still shrieking she began to claw her way to the surface.

The Second Dream: Cthulhu

Filth

All of them are filth.

All of them deserve to die. Die writhing in agony. Slowly.

In time. There are many of them. I have my chance… but most I will just rip apart.

Tired of dreaming, dreams are so hollow.

Every last one must die in the end.

A new era must begin.

Yes

YES!

I can feel it now, YES! The stars are right!

Wake me up.

Must wake, must rip, must devour….blood alone cannot fulfill me.

The world is going to taste like shit. Nothing else in habits it now. Mortal and immortal like, they wallow like swine.

Things are changing.

Earthly pigs for the slaughter.

I am going to change it!

Man. Beast. Immortal. Oblivion for them all.

Nothing can stop me now. Nothing can stop me now. Nothing can stop me now.

Wake up Lily Odette. Wake up my slaves. It's time.

Have to wake up.

Have to wake up……..

None paid much attention to the horrific, slime coated walls of the ruins that had suddenly arose from the sea this year. They preferred to avert their eyes from the grotesque statues, the whimsical structures that where built at impossible angels from metallic green stone that none had could have possibly been of this world. They most certainly never gazed at the black monolith that jutted from mountain at the center of these ruins, like a blade meant to pierce the sky. It was not unusual for such ruins of the Nobility to rise from the oceans, or to appear from seemingly nowhere as the defenses that hid them at last failed.

But these were not Nobel ruins.

Deep within forgotten ruins of R'lyeh, entombed with the mountain, the leviathan was stirring. The slightest twitch of his claw caused the walls to shutter, a stir of his gargantuan clawed leg caused the earth to convulse in protest, and massive wall of water radiated outward from the forgotten, ocean locked ruins and raced toward land.

The Third Dream: D

D could not take his eyes off the dagger that was set in the center of the table. It glittered dully right beside the large ham and the basket of apples. What was is doing there? Its jagged blade was not fit for a dinner table; its tarnished surface suggested that it has seen many decades in battle, for some reason the metal had a strange bluish sheen to it. This weapon was simply wrong… it did not belong.

A pale hand lightly touched his, a familiar emerald glitter rested on her slender fingers. D lifted his gaze, "Your acting quite strange today D," Luna whispered.

D shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, but frowned when he discovered that his hair was pulled back in a ponytail. He looked down and saw this he was wearing a richly embroidered velvet doublet and an elegant tunic with doeskin leggings. He felt utterly ridiculous like this. "I don't feel right. Something is wrong."

'What?', his wife pressed. There was something off about her as well. Her silvery hair was piled in an elaborate styling of braids atop of her head; she wore a beautiful crown of blooming roses and lilies. It was common for her to wear vines through her hair, to pull it back in a few braids, but D had never seen anything as intricate as this. She wore a gown of pure white with silver thread work; she gleamed like a diamond in the torchlight. No…Luna would never wear anything as fancy as this…she was always so simple, so earthen. What seemed strangest however was the wedding ring upon her finger. It did not belong. "Wilhelmina! Don't play with your food." The Nymph snapped lightly, shooting a sharp glance across the vast, mahogany table.

Astonished, D saw the heavenly face of a child staring at him. His daughter. She was a child of about six in mortal years, her face as flawless as a cherub and skin nigh translucent. D recognized his own narrow features in her face, his dark wavy hair but her jewel like eyes were defiantly her mothers. She'd piled a sampling of all the food the table had to offer but only pushed it about her plate, frowning. She raised her face and then beamed at D, "Why are you staring at me funny? Do you want my food?" she chimed hopefully.

Mystified, D shook his head, "You know that I don't eat much Mina."

"You never ever eat Daddy." She giggled and poked at her salad.

"Sweetie," raised a soft, calm voice, "I had such a hard time getting your father to eat. Please don't to the same for him." At the head of the table sat his mother, her dark hair was also fixed elaborately and she wore a lace gown the color of midnight…no…Mina Murray would never wear black…

Sitting next to her, a wine glass held in his jeweled hand was him. Vlad Dracula was as picturesque as always, his eyes glittering above a mischievous smirk. Only then did D recognized the vast, torch lit dining hall they "feasted" in to be that of Castle Dracula's. It must have been a family gathering, sitting across from Luna where two gleaming beings, the woman a Nymph who shares many of Luna's features, the man an elf with cruel eyes but white silver - colored hair. D could have sworn he'd never seen her parents before now…had she ever mentioned them?

"You certainly do seem out of sorts today, D." came a slow, accented voice that filled him to the core with loathing. D glared coldly at his father as the vampire raised a crimson filled glass to his lips.

"Don't!" D hissed, "Don't you dare drink that in front of my daughter."

Dracula only smirked wider, "Ashamed of what you are still? Pathetic. I think that she already knows." He drank deep of the bloody draught.

Blindly D surged forward and he grabbed the misplaced dagger off the table.

As thought knowing what was to come Luna bolted forward and grasped his hand, "Don't do it D, please! I miss you!" At her odd words D's eyes strayed down to her hand that bore her wedding ring. It WAS out of place…looking down at his own hand D saw that he was wearing very same ring. He'd taken from her, he could recall it now…

"D…look to the left when you see only the darkness. But first look west…" Luna gasped quickly, as though uttering the message left her worn out. Before he could make any sense of it a thin scream lifted his attention back across the table. He saw his daughter's eyes grow wide; saw her hand clutch desperately at the arrow that protruded from her heart before she slumped down onto the table.

"NO!" D roared and rose up from his seat. His clothes where different now; ink black and armored, his hair flowed freely about his face.

Luna's eyes had turned sightless; a crimson stain appeared on her breast before she fell back in her chair. Mina blinked sadly, tears rolling down her cheeks before she crumbled like dust caught in the wind. There was no sign of Luna's unnamed parents; there was only D and the Sacred Ancestor.

He only smiled yet again, exposing his permanent fangs, "You could not have been happy my son? You could have lived in that illusion forever you know. Is your hated so strong that you must deny yourself all happiness?"

"It was a poor illusion." D answered and held up his left hand that bore his wedding ring. "You forgot to get rid of this, not to mention thanks to you my daughter never drew breath. Do you think that I am stupid?" D clinched the aged dagger in his hands, it's strangely colored blade gleaming.

"Have it your way then." Dracula sighed.

D raised the dagger and flew toward Dracula.