Freedom Lost Part 1
Serena was young, beautiful and very frightened. Her long ebony hair framed a delicate porcelain face, wide blue violet eyes that studied the terrible apparitions before her. She tried to remain calm, and think logically, anything to hide the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. Lord Viktor's vampires had carried out their threat to enslave her village if tithes were overdue as they were. She and her people were surrounded by a phalanx of vampires clad in black armour, armed with swords and crossbows. Serena wore a long clock which afforded warmth, but she shivered in spite of its comfort. A younger girl ran up to Serena who embraced her.
"I'm scared, Serena", the girl aged eleven gazed tearfully into Serena's face.
Serena enfolded her sister to her bosom, allowing her own tears to fall "I know, I'm scared too, Kristen"
Horror befell her village as the vampires happily fed on anyone unwilling to do as they were bade. Both girls cried out involuntarily, attracting the attention of a vampire. Both Serena and Kristen turned to flee, but the vampire was too quick, intercepting them with an inhuman speed. He was attired in black armour, tall with slicked back black hair; his face was handsome, chiselled features, close set blue eyes that were as cold as ice and spoke with a peculiar accent that Serena identified as Irish.
"Going somewhere, slaves?" he grinned brandishing a whip, casually aiming it in their direction. The vampire's name was Soren, as the girls would learn later. In the background the screaming continued as villagers were none too gently rounded into a line and chained. Serena and Kristen were shoved into that line and chained as well. Serena sobbed at the sight of her home now destroyed and her parents nowhere in sight.
Hours later at the Corvinus compound, Lucian looked on, with pity at the new additions to Viktor's slave workforce. His heart ached for two young girls at the rear who were obviously past the point of total exhaustion but carried on nevertheless by sheer will. Lucian saw the reason – Soren, Viktor's head torturer brought up the tragic procession and had been lashing the girls' legs. A growl escaped the blacksmith's throat. He reached for a nearby sword he had been repairing, but before he could grip its handle, his arm was seized roughly and he was brought to his knees. A vampire guard, whose physical age was estimated at sixty, with crew cut brown, grey hair and cruel face leant in close to his hear and whispered.
"Careful there, dog!", sneered the vampire, whose name was Kosta, "Lest your privileges disappear and you join the rest of your filthy kind!" Kosta indicated the work yard where the most wretched of the lycans toiled in the mines.
"What do I care of privileges? Rest assured your time will come, blood!" Blood. It was a term vampires detested. Kosta drew back his arm and struck Lucian with all his strength. Lucian's head was racked by the blow and he lost consciousness . Kosta stood over the prone form of Lucian for a moment before striding away.
Serena witnessed the altercation as the new additions were lead into the main courtyard by their sadistic captors. The girl contemplated her injured leg miserably. Little Kristen cried desolately beside her. In the line ahead of them, a man and woman turned – their parents. Daughters and parent s caught sight of each other and both parties spirits were buoyed for the moment. Thank God, at least everyone was alive for now at least. Now the slaves waited.
Two days before: Kosta and Soren were in conference with Lord Viktor. Kosta wasn't a frequent visitor to Viktor's inner chamber and really harboured no ambition to such lofty heights, unlike Soren. Kosta was satisfied performing his current tasks and he did so with relish. He never missed an opportunity to lash the slaves and one of his favourite past-times was participating in the punishments. He smiled inwardly at the memories of the screams of pain of his victims – both male and female.
Soren, up until this moment held the position of taskmaster; now to take up a position of head torturer in Lord Viktor's inner sanctum; a promotion Soren had longed for. Conversation then turned to the village of Thirl whose tithes were overdue – the very village Serena lived.
"You two will lead the squadron and acquire more slaves. I will not have my protection to these human ingrates unrewarded. Kill the weak and infirm"Viktor paced in front of them, the gourd of blood held casually in his long pale fingers "Bring the strongest"
Kosta and Soren bowed slightly "Yes, my Lord", both answered in unison.
Kosta and Soren descended mercilessly on Serena's village. Serena didn't know it yet, but she would win the heart of a vampire. He observed her unseen from a safe distance for several moments until Soren intercepted her. His attention was distracted to controlling the villagers nearest to him and he didn't see Soren torturing the girls nor was he aware of him lashing her en-route to the Corvinus Castle. Kosta didn't give Serena a second thought until now.
The second day of the villager's enslavement began early. Serena and her family slept fitfully in a small cell that was part of the dungeons. Serena raised her head at the sound of footsteps which came closer and stopped at her cell door. Her heart beat wildly as the key turned in the lock and the door opened to reveal Kosta. He stood at just over six foot with short crew-cut greying hair, close set, narrow blue eyes complimenting rugged features. Serena gazed at him, awed and terrified at the same time. His mouth was cruel and he bore several symmeritical scars on the right side of his face, as though someone had cut him repeatedly. She estimated Kosta to be aged around sixty.
Kosta's day (or night) was ending soon and one of his final duties was to round the newest slaves up for work detail. They would be taken to the castle for Viktor's appraisal, who would decide their assignments. Tired as he was, and in need of some food, setting eyes on the mortal girl woke him up, and a familiar sensation wended its way through his entire being – a warmth that had nought to do with conventional heat. It was, however heat of a different, more primal kind and feelings stirred within him as well. He longed to run his hands through her hair and press her body to his – but he resisted the urge – for the moment anyway.
End of Part 1