AN: I do not own the masterpiece that is Hamlet by William Shakespeare. This is basically a sped up version of the story with a few twists and turns along the way! I hope you enjoy it R&R PLEASE
A year had passed since the mysterious death of King Hamlet. Young Hamlet, wallowing in the depression of losing his father, was enraged when he witnessed his mother laughing happily next to his uncle, the new king, Claudius, at the conclusion of the former king's funeral.
"Death, a sudden death would be easy. How can I sit here and watch my mother press her lips to hands of that thief. He has no right to marry my mother, after the death of my father. He deserves neither the throne nor her. To kill myself would end my vision of this madness," Hamlet's mind wondered… What does Claudius want? Why is he so quick to marry for the throne? What is he running from?
As he begins to ascend the stairs, towards his chambers, he notices an extremely frantic Horatio running towards him, "My lord!"
"Horatio, great to see you. What news do you have for...? Good heavens, what is the matter? You look as if you have just seen a ghost!" Hamlet laughed heavily, though void of any humor.
Breathing heavily, Horatio grasped Hamlets arm in an unrelenting vice grip. "Ay, my lord, I have. I swear to you that I have just seen the King."
Hamlet pulled out of his constricting grasp, "Why of course you have. I am sure Claudius has been around today. I saw him wondering about the castle earlier, before the funeral, with a dazed expression, no doubt thinking of the future of Denmark, as the new king and such."
"No, my lord, King Hamlet. I saw King Hamlet's ghost today."
"Ha ha, very amusing; however, do not play these games with me today, I am not in the mood Horatio." Just then, Hamlet caught the look in Horatio's eyes. Horatio was not joking; there was no amusement in his eyes, only pure seriousness. The truth, radiating from his eyes, willed young Hamlet to believe him. "You cannot be serious."
Horatio nodded slightly, "I did not believe it at first myself. The guards at the northern gate witnessed it before I showed up. I thought they had gone mental. That is until the apparition of your father appeared before my very eyes! You must come see for yourself at once, my lord. I promise you, my dearest friend, that this is no trick. "
They raced onward toward the northern gate, reaching their destination in record time. "Where is the ghost Horatio? Where is my father?" Hamlet scanned the night sky slowly, checking every possible crevice for his father, but alas, all he saw was the stars, lighting up the vast sky. "Father!" he called.
Nothing.
Enraged, he turned towards Horatio. "You lied to me! Do you honestly think that after a year of my father's death, I would have moved on by now? That I would find such tricks entertaining! Well, you are certainly mistaken, young Horatio. Now if you excuse me I will be going back to my chambers now." Fists clenched tightly, wanting to punch Horatio for his foolishness, he began to stalk away.
Before he had taken five steps, a bone-chilling gust of wind swept through him. A white, translucent figure appeared before them. His helmet open, showing the blank expression of the former king. Hamlet was petrified with fear. "That cannot be happening. It's impossible." He whispered, more to himself then those around him.
With a booming voice, the king spoke. "My son, you have not only gravely disappointed me, but have betrayed me as well. You let me die,"
"Please father, no, I- I didn't. I- I…" He stammered.
"Let me finish Hamlet, and do not interrupt me again." Hamlet suddenly transformed from the man trying to defending himself against these accusations, to a mere child, being rebuked by the ghost of his father. He bowed his head, hiding his embarrassment, allowing his father to continue. The King took a deep breath and continued. "You let me die within your heart, to the point that all you see before you is an apparition. You do not see me as a father now, rather an old memory, someone who you loved but now resent for matters beyond my control. I was murdered Hamlet, and now it is your duty to find the man who murdered me."
Hamlet walked towards his father, arm outstretched, conveying his remorse, wanting the comfort he used to seek from his father, needing it. "Who did this to you? Tell me that, and I will find them." Falling to his knees, he slammed his fist into the ground. "Mark my words; I will avenge your death. Even if it's the last thing I ever do. I swear to it!"
"My reign was ruptured by my hands by someone I held close to my heart. The serpent that did sting my life now wears the crown." With that, another strong gust of wind came, and the king was gone.
Realization of the king's last words set in. "Horatio, I know who killed my father."
"Who, my lord?"
"Claudius. He killed my father and married my mother for the thrown. How could I be so blind? Why hadn't I realized this sooner?"
"Hamlet, you can't honestly believe-"
Whipping his head towards Horatio, he grabbed his collar, rage and determination filling his voice. "I know it's him. It has to be. Who else would hold such a grudge against my father? Father inherited the thrown, being the eldest son leaving Claudius with no chance of power. No chance, unless he died."
"Hamlet, your eyes…"
"Never mind my eyes Horatio. Come now, Ophelia's waiting for me."
Ophelia sat patiently on a wooden bench outside, waiting for Hamlet to arrive. "Ophelia!" Hamlet shouted, running down the stone steps.
She turned around, instantly calmed by Hamlet's presence. "Hamlet, my lord."
"Ophelia," He took her hand in his and pressed it to his lips. "Ophelia, I saw my father tonight."
"But that's impossible Hamlet, you father is dead."
Hamlet looked into her eyes, willing her to believe, much as Horatio had done to him only minutes ago. "I know this to be true Ophelia. I saw his ghost. He told me that he was murdered." She gasped. "Claudius killed him." He finished gravely.
Her eyes widened in shock. "Your uncle? But how can that be?"
"The ghost told me he was poisoned. Poison dropped into his ears as he was sleeping. A poison so strong that it killed him almost instantly. He told me 'the man who poisoned me now wears my crown'. Claudius was jealous of my father, that he got the crown. He was distraught. He killed my father Ophelia, and now I shall see to it that he faces the same fate." Ophelia tried to reach out to him, to comfort him, but Hamlet ignored her and stormed away.
"Ophelia?" Horatio whispered, his presence forgotten. "Are you alright?"
She could only imagine how she looked to him. Pale skin, lips cracked, dark eyes shining in the night, and fangs, sharp as knives, protruding from her mouth. "Horatio," He jumped back in fear.
Horatio nervously scanned her featured. He froze when he saw her smile. Her mouth curled up in a slight smile as her tongue licked her fangs. "What are you?" he asked shakily.
Her eyes, pleading with him to remain quiet, bore into his. "Please, don't tell anyone. This is my secret. I have kept it secret for hundreds of years and you will do well to keep it that way. It is just that it's very hard to keep my secret when I'm so hungry…" She sat quietly, waiting for what she had said to sink in.
He looked into her eyes, seeing how black they were. Then it hit him that is how Hamlet's eyes had looked after seeing the ghost, pitch black. "H- Hungry, ma'am?"
"Yes… hungry." Blackness blinded Horatio, his heart rate increasing; he collapsed to the floor as Ophelia bit him. He felt as though he was swimming in a sea of pleasure and pain, the life slowly being sucked out of him. He was drowning in blood… Death was imminent.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 3 days later ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hamlet," Ophelia came running towards him, eyes filled with happiness, as she had not seen him since the day he saw King Hamlet's ghost. "How are you feeling today?"
"Actually, I am doing quite well, my dear." He replied nervously. He could sense that she was hiding something valuable.
Nodding, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a familiar looking bracelet. "I wish to give this back to you. It is much more yours, then mine, as it has more meaning to you."
Hamlet took the bracelet, studying the intricate designs. "Thank you for giving this to me Ophelia, but what I don't understand is why. This is Horatio's if I am not mistaken. How did you come about it? Where is Horatio? Why couldn't you just give it back to him yourself?"
"I'm terribly sorry my lord. I- I killed him…" She managed to choke out. "I hadn't fed properly in weeks, and when it was just us that night, after you told me of your father's ghost, I just couldn't control my urges anymore. I snapped, and for that, I am greatly sorry."
"Ophelia, you must either learn better control or feed more frequently. We don't need to be found out, that would not go over well for us, and you know it."
"Ay, my lord. I apologize."
"It is fine Ophelia. All is in the past. Now, why don't you go gather Claudius and my mother so we can watch the play that I have written?"
"Yes my lord." They depart.
Once everyone was gathered in the great hall, Hamlet came up on stage with a suspiciously happy expression. "Thank you all for coming to witness a day that shall go down in history as one of the biggest criminal exposures ever. I would like to dedicate this play to my notorious uncle, King Claudius!" Applause rang through the halls, loud with excitement. "Ladies and gentleman, I give you The Murder of Gonazgo!"
The curtains open and the play manifested itself into everything Hamlet had ever hoped. It told the sinister story of a once honest, now corrupted man who resorted to killing his eldest brother for the one thing he desired the most, the throne. The once noble brother came onto sage holding a vial of poison, walked over to the sleeping elder brother, and just as he went to drop the poison into the ear, the older brother woke up. The evil man knew he was caught; He did not know what else to do, so he slit the eldest brother's throat. Blood spewed all over the stage, as the eldest fell to the stage, eyes wide open, dead.
"Stop this! Stop this at once!" Claudius's voice rang out through the hall. The play paused only a moment, as the actors stared up at the king, who rose from his chair and exited the room in a hot flash of fury. The play resumed.
Hamlet followed Claudius out of the room, sward in hand, ready to kill. "I have you at last uncle. It was you! You killed my father, didn't you?"
Claudius laughed. "I can assure you, Hamlet, that insanity has finally overcome you! Of course, it wasn't me! How dare you accuse me of such treacheries?" He stood his ground, chest puffed out, accepting the challenge.
"You may have fooled everyone else, but you cannot fool me uncle! I can see right through your façade. Do you wish to kill me too, as to guarantee that no one else can take the precious throne from you?"
Claudius stood still as a statue, trying not to provoke Hamlet any further. "Hamlet, please listen to me. Be reasonable. I did not kill my brother, nor am I going to kill you. I promise you. Please, just please, listen to me, and calm down. Now!"
Blood boiled within Hamlet's veins. His grip on his sward tightened so much that the hilt shattered in half. A growl rose from deep within his chest, challenging Claudius. "It is over now uncle. You murdered my father and thus have inadvertently given me to duty to avenge him. It's time to pay for your crimes, Uncle Claudius." Hamlet pounced upon Claudius, grabbing his neck with an unbreakable steel grasp. Savagely, he stabbed his sharp white fangs into his neck, sucking every last drop of blood out of the now dead Claudius, tickling his throat with absolute ecstasy. Hamlet dislodged his fangs from the dead man, a euphoric feeling coursing through his veins.
"Hamlet, what have you done?" Ophelia's screams bringing Hamlet back into reality.
"I killed the man who killed my father. Revenge is sweet my dear Ophelia." Hamlet announced, in an eerily calm voice. "You will do well to remember that."
"Yes, my lord." She agreed. "Let us go write to Laertes, Hamlet. He will know what to do about this chaos." Hamlet granted his permission and the two of them had Rosencrantz and Guildenstern sent to Paris to bring Laertes home; however, they were not allowed to tell him anything that has happened since he was gone.
When Laertes returned to Denmark, he was in pure shock. Shock that Claudius was dead. Shock that Hamlet had run away. Shock that, without Hamlet, Ophelia had gone crazy. Ophelia ordered Laertes to search everywhere to find Hamlet and bring him back to her safely. He accepted the mission and began a never-ending search for the most famous vampire ever, Prince Hamlet.
Years of the hunt for Hamlet aged Laertes to the point where he could no longer continue his journey. He eventually met a young screenwriter named William Shakespeare. With great difficulty, Laertes told him the story of young Hamlet, the Prince of Denmark. Instead of telling what truly happened, he made it fictional, not knowing how Shakespeare would react to the vampiric nature of the real story. Shakespeare transformed Laertes story into his own iambic art, writing with caution, fearing Laertes would kill him if he were not successful.
Weeks later, Shakespeare ran to Laertes' inn room to invite him to the premier of the new play. As he entered the room, he found himself staring at a mysterious hooded figure bending over a weak, dead body. The figure stood up, showing Laertes' dead body. Two puncture marks were prominent on his neck.
The figure walked towards Shakespeare with a cold smirk evident on his pale white face. He spoke dangerously soft, "I hope you have written my story well, young William Shakespeare, for I want it to be read and analyzed for thousands of years to come. I will be watching you." His dark, evil chuckle filled the room, echoing into the night, leaving Shakespeare stunned into absolute silence; never fully realizing who he just met. He is one of the few to ever meet, and then escape, the wrath of Prince Hamlet.