Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters EXCEPT… Myra Valiora, who I made up… yep I did… okay to the story then.
Like the Smell of Roses
It was late, and she should have been sleeping by then. She was tired, but sleep just did not come. The inability to sleep was something that twenty-year-old Myra Valiora often experienced. She always had too much on her mind to sleep. Something about herself, which she loathed. On this particular night she was too occupied thinking about the attack that had recently taken place on her small village in Transylvania. How could she not think about it? Vampires were supposed to have been wiped out years ago. The attack that had taken place proved this to be dead wrong.
Most families were in their homes mourning the loss of loved ones. Myra was just restless. She had no loved ones. She had no friends, no family left, and no significant other. Why would she? With what had stalked her all her life she wasn't at all surprised no one wanted to be around her. Although since the "Great Van Helsing", she didn't like him very much, had gotten rid of this… thing… she had hoped that maybe people wouldn't be so harsh towards her. Of course once again she was sadly mistaken. It would seem she was marred for life.
So what kept her up tonight, was the knowledge that Vampires had somehow returned. If Vampires were alive, of course her "old friend" was back as well. Myra shivered under the covers. She wasn't cold she was frightened. The last five years had seemed like a relief to her, as it was five years ago that Van Helsing had rid her of her problem. But as she had known all of her life, good things never seem to last long. She knew it was only a matter of time before she would see her friend again, for she knew he never forgot a face, especially her face.
Just as the fearful thought passed through her mind the window swung violently open. With a loud bang the shutters hit the wall and the curtains billowed inward. She let out a small whimper and shook in her bed. The snow from outside swirled around the room creating an eerie fog that made her feel no better. A dark shape swept across the room, barely visible in the weak light of the moon. Myra cursed under her breath the dark curtains that she had hung in the windows. She wanted to scream out, but she knew he would only silence her. And besides, no one would bother to help her.
The dark shape walked back across the room. It made its way over to the window and closed it, latching it, and turned back to Myra.
"Let us get a little light in here. So I may see your pretty little face better," a thickly accented male voice said quietly. An unseen force drew the curtains back and blue moonlight filled the room. Although it was now considerably lighter in the room, Myra could still barely make out the face of the man that was now staring at her, grinning triumphantly at her frail body. The only details of his face that were visible were the four pin points of light that were his icy blue eyes, and his white glistening fangs. Both sights made Myra shudder.
The thought to run slashed through her mind briefly but she soon forgot her instincts. Lost in those eyes, the eyes she had known forever.
As she stared into his eyes, she felt herself sit up. She knew in the back of her mind that the motion was not of her own will, but of his. As she sat up the thin sheets slid off of her, exposing her shoulders, then her bosom, then her torso. She whimpered quietly and drew her white nightgown tighter around her. A small snicker could be heard from the shadow.
"It's nothing I haven't seen before, and you know it," the shadow said softly. Old haunting memories flashed before Myra's eyes and she felt the ache of shame. It must have shown on her face because the shadow snickered again. Anger burnt within her for a moment and it gave her the will to speak.
"What do you want?" she demanded in a shaky voice. The shadow chuckled.
"You," it said shortly as it approached the bed.
As the shadow got closer to her bed those oh so familiar features came into sight. That smooth pale skin that Myra had sometimes secretly wished she could reach out and caress. Ebony hair drawn back in a ponytail with a few stray strands framing his face. Myra blushed as she quivered with the impulse to reach out and tuck these few stray strands back. She shook her head rapidly forcing these thoughts out of her mind.
"You won't be able to do that forever," the man said, sitting down on the side of the bed.
"Get away from me Dracula," she said coldly. Dracula smirked. He reached around the back of her head and pulled out the pin that was holding her hair. Jet black locks rippled down her back to her waist. His icy blue eyes bore into her electric green ones, and her resistance annoyed him.
The moonlight played on the features of her pale face. Myra glared at the man before her intently for a few moments before she felt herself begin to falter. She struggled to continue resisting but his spell was working, and she felt herself giving in. A smirk played on his lips as he slid his arm around her waist. His cold touch snapped her back and she pulled away, the glare returning to her face. A low growl escaped his throat as his frustration out did his charm for a moment. Now it was Myra who was smirking.
"Loosing your touch to rejection Count?" she asked smoothly. This time it was he who was glaring at her. But his usual smirk regained its post a few moments later, much to Myra's dismay.
"I see you have acquired boldness since our last meeting," he said calmly. Myra didn't reply she didn't have to. Hate burned in her eyes as she thought of all the things that his obsession with her had caused her. She had lost the chance at friends, her family had all left her, and she had no one to hold her, since she was a child. The sadness was obvious upon her face, and she could have sworn she saw a flicker of pity flash in Dracula's seemingly cold eyes. It was gone before she could be sure of it.
He suddenly leaned in so he could whisper in her ear.
"I could give you everything you have ever wanted. You would never be alone again with me," he whispered temptingly in her ear. Something inside her wanted to believe him, but she knew he had to have been lying.
"All you could ever offer me is an eternity serving you and being what you want. I could never live that life, now get away from me," she said coldly. Dracula growled and drew back.
"If you aren't going to just go along with this and make it easy, I'm not going to be gentle," he growled and pulled her roughly to him. Myra let out a whimper of pain and fear as he tightened his grip on her waist. She could feel his nails digging into her side and she clenched her fists in pain.
Myra stared at him with wide eyes as his fangs lengthened slightly.
"Please no," she begged quietly, knowing that he would not listen.
"I gave you the choice to make this easy and you refused. Now you are going to have to deal with this the hard way," he said coldly. He pulled her head back and grazed his fangs across her neck. A shiver ran throughout her but not one of fear, but to her surprise, of pleasure. Dracula realized this and loosened his grip on her. "Now that's better isn't it?" he said softly. She was tempted to whisper "much" in his ear but refrained.
Dracula leaned down and grazed her neck with his fangs again. This time a quiet moan escaped Myra's lips. The sound of it broke her trance and she covered her mouth quickly. Dracula smirked but chose not to mock her anymore.
Slowly, and to his surprise he was trying to be gently, he pierced her neck with his fangs. A painful whimper escaped her as she tried to pull away. A wave of self-disappointment washed over her. He finally had her, and she basically had just sat there and let it happen. But the feeling was soon replaced by the weak feeling that the loss of blood was causing. Dracula drank from her greedily and ignored her pleas to stop. And after what seemed like forever to her, he pulled away, letting her fall back on the bed. Her face contorted in pain as her heart struggled to pump blood that was not there. She longed for that heart to stop. She wished for it in her mind, pleaded for it.
"And it will," he said, interrupting the thoughts which he had been reading. He held up his own wrist to his mouth and bit down, causing a few droplets of blood to fall on the sheets. He held his wrist to her mouth temptingly. "Drink," he whispered. A fire burned within her that she had never known. An unbelievable hunger that she had never felt. Dracula admired the lust in her eyes. Immediately she grabbed his wrist and clamped her mouth to it, taking as greedily from him as he had from her. "You will make a fine bride," he said almost to himself. At these words Myra pulled away in horror at what she had just allowed to happen. But it was too late; the transformation was already taking place.
A wave of pain shot throughout her body, killing every living fiber of her in its wake. A cry of pain escaped her lips and she arched her back. After about five minutes of pure agony she lye still. Dracula was amused at how she had remained conscious, something not many new Vampires could do. He least of all would have expected it from Myra. She was very frail and he knew that. Myra lye on her back, breathing heavily, and staring blankly at the ceiling. Dracula wasn't positive but he could have sworn that he felt bad for her as he watched her shake uncontrollably.
Slowly and gently he slid his arm under her waist and helped her into a sitting position. "You belong to me now," he whispered in her ear. Despite how weak she was she still found the will within her to push him violently away.
"I WILL NEVER BELONG TO YOU!" she screamed, although it made her light headed. He growled and pinned her down on the bed. She whimpered in pain and fear, but she glared up at him angrily.
"It would seem we aren't getting off to a very good start," he said through gritted teeth. He held onto her neck with an iron grip. Myra gasped for air even if she knew she didn't need it at this point. She could feel her neck breaking in his grasp and the room soon began to spin and become blurry. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and with one final gasping breath she gave into unconsciousness.