Disclaimer: I own not of the Dracula Untold or any associated characters, plots, or merchandising, nor am I making any money off of this story.
He was fairly pleased, the Master vampire was. He had all the sacrifices he needed for this ritual to proceed, the moon was red with a lunar eclipse, and his newest childe was cooperating without too much drama or flashbacking of his wife and child. Vlad was, in fact, removing the sacks from their sacrifices' heads in preparation for the bloodletting while the Master gazed out over the unsuspecting town. So far, so good on the latest revenge attempt.
A sharp intake of air behind him as Vlad's feet stopped tapping a rhythm from victim to victim.
The Master pursed his lips, Perhaps he simply remembered he'd left the oven ablaze. Ignoring the slight edge of desperation to his own thoughts, the Master continued, Or stepped on a bit of silver. It didn't mean… It didn't necessarily mean… Stubbornly, the Master refused to turn 'round and confirm his suspicions.
"Why think separately of this life and the next, when one is born from the last?"
Only to have them confirmed against his will.
In less than a moment, the window in front of him crashed into a thousand pieces as Vlad jumped out the window, a screaming bundle over his shoulder as he landed safely and fled down the street.
Closing his eyes, the Master counted to ten, but the aggravation clawed its way out anyway, contorting and disfiguring his face as the shout ripped out of him, "Every time, Vlad! Every single time!" His hands were fisted at his sides, and he made to turn about, but stopped to cry again out the broken window, "They can't all be your bloody wife! Get over it!" Having vented his frustrations, he sighed forcefully and patted down his hair, wiping the anger spittle from his chin in the next motion.
Smiling tensely, the Master shrugged at his captive audience of one-less-than-required-sacrifices, pulling smartly at the lapels of his jacket, "Any of you have a neighbor your age you particularly dislike?"
Fearful silence met his polite request.
"Cousin? Sister?" Looking up at the moon, the smile got a little tighter, "We are running out of time."
Not a peep.
"Fine then, destroy my vengeance and my dreams. The ritual is off," the Master vampire worked the gloves off his hands, not noticing the beginning of hope dawning in the captives' faces. Could he possibly be letting them go? Just like that? They could return to their normal lives, put all this terror behind them, and maybe wear silver every day of their continued existence… He pushed the gloves into a pocket, "I suppose, then, your deaths will just be meaningless."