All of Tamriel was dark. The sky gloomed over her, a pitch black ocean dotted with blood red clouds. The sun was nothing but a black hole, a vacant patch in the sky. All around, her fellow vampires ran about, no longer hindered by the sun's powerful rays. They applauded her as they went by, and she felt good. Proud.
Her heart sounded like it was pounding in her ears, though she knew better. Her skin prickled with need, lust for blood and violence. She caved, running alongside her brethren as they raced across the land, raiding villages and attacking any passerby. It was utter chaos, and it felt good. All of it felt good.
She felt out of body as she watched herself kill, drink from, and tear apart innocents. Elves, humans, it didn't matter. No one could stand against her. The blood was like a drug. It made fire flow through her veins and her eyes lit with excitement. It was a dark and terrible scene, but it was all good.
She knew she had done well. She knew that her gods were watching over her, and were proud of her. She had done what all of the vampires wanted her to. She was a hero.