Set The World On Fire

The Vampire King stared at row after row of muskets, his mind working at barely a quarter of its normal speed. Nothing seemed real. He'd just defeated General Bellorum, so this couldn't be possible. Could it? Shouldn't a leader of his stature value things such as honor and gentlemanly conduct? Of course, this was Scipio Bellorum; expect the unexpected revolved around everything he did.

"Ready,"

Barrel after barrel lowered to aim across the decks. A hollow silence fell across the air, pounding in each and every warrior Vampires' ears. They knew what was about to occur. Something about the poetic cruelty of this situation kept them glued to where they stood, simply gazing in horrified awe at every gun that was pointed in their direction. So many things passed through each soldier's mind, from their "friends" down below, to how it was going to be in non-existence. Only one thing crossed that of His Vampiric Majesty's. . . .

My little corpse. . . .Darling, forgive me for my folly.

"Aim,"

Her Vampiric Majesty's beautiful perfection flashed into the king's mind and for one moment, one perfectly pristine amazing second, he wasn't standing on an airship in the middle of a godforsaken war. In that moment, he was dancing with his queen in the Blood Palace, twirling in a graceful pattern to the thrum of steady music. Everything, from the perfume of her inky hair to that wickedly gorgeous gleam in her icy blue eyes, stood out in his mind.

And for the first time since this whole damned thing had started, the Vampire King's mind snapped into high-gear. He realized that if he didn't move, his queen would be without him. . . . There was nothing on this earth that he wanted less than that. A world in which he could not be with his queen was not a world at all; a place such as that could only be described as hell.

The man Bellorum had called Captain Horatius was drawing breath to scream the final order that would end His Vampiric Majesty and his squadrons. Onyx eyes widening, the king let out a screech that made everyone cover their ears in pain. He dashed to the sides, managing to leap off the airship as the Polypontian captain called over his cacophonous scream.

"FIRE!"

A throbbing pain erupted in the Vampire King's leg; one of the wooden bullets had reached him after all. Excruciating agony clouded his mind, making it nearly impossible for the king to transform. On and on he fell, tumbling through the war-torn sky like a ragdoll. Blood dripped onto his face. For the first time in centuries, the king found himself disgusted by the scent of it. There would always be someone somewhere bleeding on a battlefield.

His Vampiric Majesty watched the earth below rapidly approach, gravity pulling him towards an unforgiving surface below without mercy. Soon, he would reach it and be crushed on soil that had been soaked with blood. Tears began to trickle slowly down the king's cheeks. He realized something as he fell through Frostmarris' skies; even though he'd escaped death by Bellorum's hand, his demise would be courtesy of the earth.

Suddenly, something landed underneath his body, pushing the king skyward. His head lolled to the side, catching a glimpse of Lugosi's familiar face. A cynical laugh erupted through the tears and he gripped his chamberlain's light gray fur tightly.

"Thank you, Lugosi."

The Master of Vampiric Ceremonies looked over his shoulder, catching a glance at his ruler's injured leg. Bone fragments and blood erupted from a hole in the king's upper-leg; the sight was enough to make even the eight hundred year old Vampire cringe slightly. "Sire, we're going to the infirmary. You need to have your injury seen to."

Fingers like iron dug painfully into Lugosi's back as he turned towards the city. The Vampire King was livid, eyes blazing as he struggled to make his chamberlain return to the battlefield. He hissed and spat vicious threats through fangs that were clenched so tightly they drew blood.

"Lugosi! Turn back this instant, or so help me, I'll destroy you with my bare hands. Do you hear me? Turn around, you miserable servant!"

Despite his king's threats of death and destruction, the chamberlain flew on towards the infirmary. It didn't take him very long to reach the entrance, returning to his human-shaped form after a few witches had removed His Vampiric Majesty. The king kept on ranting, struggling with everyone that kept touching him and insisting that he was fine despite his injuries. In fact, there were a few instances that he even tried to stand, only to be wrestled down by a few brave warlocks.

The warlocks carried him quickly to an open cot, calling for Oskan Witchfather as they went. It wasn't long before he arrived, carrying a vial of carefully-measured clear liquid. His face was set in a weathered frown even though he'd just started to get a good look at the king's injuries. "Your Majesty, I'm going to have to ask you to stop ranting and drink this."

His Vampiric Majesty hissed in annoyance and pain, casting one last withering look towards the Witchfather. Then he snatched the vial from Oskan's hand and downed it in one long gulp. He grimaced; the liquid tasted absolutely disgusting. It was like a combination of dirt and some other substance that he couldn't even begin to imagine. But quickly he was beginning to feel something else. Warmth was spreading throughout his body, taking away all the pain he'd been feeling so far.

Unconsciousness was beginning to overtake him, and vaguely the king heard Oskan say, "Okay, let's start operating."

Her Vampiric Majesty had barely touched down before beginning to run towards the infirmary. The squadrons had fought long and hard, only just being able to hold back Bellorum's Sky Navy until he called for a strategic retreat. Thirrin's forces had already forced the ground armies to leave; that had saved the Vampire forces in this particular battle.

But at what cost?

She'd seen from afar what had happened to her consort. In fact, it was she who had ordered Lugosi to save the Vampire King and fly him to the infirmary. But throughout the battle, she couldn't keep her mind off her injured consort. What had happened? Would he be existence still when she returned? All these questions had been left unanswered until now.

Despite her achingly tired muscles, the Vampire Queen reached the infirmary in what seemed like mere seconds. She burst through the door, eyes searching for a familiar profile through the unfamiliar, bleeding, screaming masses of soldiers and drummers. Finally, she saw her consort lying on a cot at the far end, eyes closed as witches swarmed around him.

The queen tried to rush forward, but was stopped by a pair of surprisingly strong arms. Oskan's voice floated to her ear. His tone sounded soothing, but there was something weary and annoyed about it. "Your Majesty; you can't see him right now. The witches are still working. It'll be some time before you're going to be able to see your consort."

A hiss erupted from Her Vampiric Majesty's lips as the Witchfather pulled her out of the infirmary. She struggled and fought, trying to get away from the man that was keeping her from her consort. Curses in every language that she could think of spewed from the queen's mouth. Fangs of polished ivory flashed as she tried to bite Oskan's arms.

"Your Majesty! Stop fighting me and listen!"

Immediately, the Vampire Queen froze, whipping around to stare at the warlock holding her arms with wide azure eyes. Tears gathered in the crystalline orbs as Oskan dragged her towards the street. His pupil-less gaze was harsh and cold; there was no mercy in that harsh stare. When he spoke, the warlock's voice was rough, filled with raw emotion that she didn't think was possible to have.

"His Vampiric Majesty is in very bad condition; it'll be at least two hours before he wakes up. We had to give him enough poppy to knock out a horse in order to kill his pain. I was surprised that he hadn't already passed out. As it were, we should have him back in the citadel recuperating by nightfall. Do you understand?"

The queen nodded. She felt so numb. Everything felt fuzzy and clouded. Nothing felt real anymore. It was some time before she realized that Oskan had already left, and that she was all alone, no one but the ghosts to witness the tears that streamed down her face. She stumbled off, pacing towards the citadel at a slow speed that was nearly staggering. She passed wounded housecarls and Hypolitan archers, watching as each one moaned or gritted their teeth in sheer agony. More and more liquid flowed in rivers down her cheeks; many of her own subjects were among those lying around in the streets, bleeding from wounds that weren't healing due to Sun poisoning.

But one person in particular caught Her Vampiric Majesty's attention the most. Amongst all of the wounded and dying soldiers, sitting with housecarls, Snow Leopards, and Wolf-folk warriors that were bandaged like mummies, was a single little girl. She clutched a blood-soaked stuffed bunny, worrying the little toys ears as she looked around with teary eyes. This child couldn't have been more than seven, in yet she was standing in all the carnage with no able-bodied adult in sight.

The Vampier Queen watched the small girl sit down next to an injured Hypolitan warrior, hand him her little bunny, and curl up to his side. And in that one instance, the warrior smiled lightly, grinning despite his agonizing wounds. It only took a small girl and her stuffed animal to make this man know that he was no longer alone.

A feeling of helpless longing filled the queen's heart and she darted off towards the citadel. It wasn't long before she reached the stables, such was the urgency of her sprint. She sank into an empty stall, sliding down a back wall and burying her face in her hands. By now, the tears that had fallen in a steady stream were now flowing in a torrent, accompanied by complete and utter lonliness. Of course she was exstatic that her consort had survived the attack that should have ended his life, but now he was lying in a dirty infirmary, bleeding and wounded and in pain.

So she couldn't help but ask the question. . . .

What will I do if you don't return? Darling, please come back.

"I need you," Her Vampiric Majesty whispered, finally succumbing to the sobs that had threatened to leave her body ever since Oskan had pulled her away from the infirmary doors.

Hey!

I finally came up with a pairing that was ACTUALLY cannon! The thought had come to my mind while listening to Black Veil Brides "The Mortician's Daughter". Of course, I'm going to need some reviews to help me keep going. And yes, I am looking at you madam-du-batty!

Please leave a review.

The button in the page's crotch is what you click to leave such a thing behind.

With lots of love and hopes that are most likely soon to be crushed,
BlackRosePoetry