Vampires usually only kill once or twice a month, to feed, but when
threatened, they kill for revenge.
Introduction:
Vlad Tepes Dracula was only 17 years old when Vladislav II and the boyars of Tirgoviste, killed his father and older brother. After their leaving, Dracula assassinated Vladislav II, with great satisfaction. 'Twas then he started his longest reign of Wallachia, and established a controversed reputation. Dracula enjoyed torture. Using the boyar families, he created an immense fortress overlooking the Arges River. He dubbed it "Casa Dracula", and succeeded in creating nobility. He became know for his brutal punishment techniques; ordered people to be skinned, boiled, decapitated, blinded, strangled, hanged, burned, roasted, hacked, nailed, buried alive, and stabbed. He enjoyed cutting off noses, ears, sexual organs, and limbs as well. However, his favourite method of all was impalement on stakes, from which he obtained the nickname "The Impaler". Almost any crime committed could by punished by impalement. He looked upon the poor, beggars, and vagrants, as thieves. He invited them all to his court in Tirgoviste for a great feast, from which the hall was boarded up and set to fire. None survived. His wife committed suicide by hurling herself into the river below the fortress, and from there, he was assassinated toward the end of December 1476. At least, that is what the people would like to believe.
It was cold. Dracula trudged through the thick forest that bordered his castle; brief clouds appeared in front of him with every breath he took. Nothing but the sound of the snow crunching beneath his boots, as he walked, slowly. He did not know where he was going, "Just somewhere," he thought. "Anywhere but here".
He stopped. The forest remained eerily silent. Dracula closed his eyes, his heartbeat gradually getting faster and louder with every moment passing. He felt a rush of cold air on the back of his neck, and a faint hiss. He cocked his head slightly, only to feel great teeth sink into his neck. His head beginning to droop, the feeling of his body hitting the cold ground.. darkness slowly swallowing him...
He awoke in his bed, stripped bare of his clothes. Looking at himself, he began to wonder why he was so pale. He managed to lift his hand to the left side of his chest. No heartbeat. "Am I dead?" He asked himself. Beside him, lay a mirror. He looked into it, but could see nothing. He threw the mirror across the room, only for it to shatter into tiny shards all across the floor. Though he hadn't relized it yet, Dracula had become a vampire.
It wasn't until later that night when he felt a dry feeling in his mouth. Thirst upon the border of dehydration. He licked his teeth hoping for a drop of salaiva, but there was none. He got up and looked out of his Castle window , down to the streets below. He turned to his closet , got dressed, and headed down the spiraling staircase which met the cobblestone- road, in which few were walking. His head jerked to the sound of a heartbeat. Slow, and steady, like the drum of life. He followed his ears, which lead him behind a man, standing near the street lantern, talking to himself. Obviously this man was drunk. He kept rambling on about the little nothings, that no one would ever talk about. Dracula could not help but think "Perfect," in his mind. His feet were walking toward the man from behind, he could not stop, they were out of his control. His mouth widened, only to reveal tremendous fangs. In one swift movement, he felt the flesh and blood between his teeth, the sweet taste of human, a great satisfaction of a job well done.
Introduction:
Vlad Tepes Dracula was only 17 years old when Vladislav II and the boyars of Tirgoviste, killed his father and older brother. After their leaving, Dracula assassinated Vladislav II, with great satisfaction. 'Twas then he started his longest reign of Wallachia, and established a controversed reputation. Dracula enjoyed torture. Using the boyar families, he created an immense fortress overlooking the Arges River. He dubbed it "Casa Dracula", and succeeded in creating nobility. He became know for his brutal punishment techniques; ordered people to be skinned, boiled, decapitated, blinded, strangled, hanged, burned, roasted, hacked, nailed, buried alive, and stabbed. He enjoyed cutting off noses, ears, sexual organs, and limbs as well. However, his favourite method of all was impalement on stakes, from which he obtained the nickname "The Impaler". Almost any crime committed could by punished by impalement. He looked upon the poor, beggars, and vagrants, as thieves. He invited them all to his court in Tirgoviste for a great feast, from which the hall was boarded up and set to fire. None survived. His wife committed suicide by hurling herself into the river below the fortress, and from there, he was assassinated toward the end of December 1476. At least, that is what the people would like to believe.
It was cold. Dracula trudged through the thick forest that bordered his castle; brief clouds appeared in front of him with every breath he took. Nothing but the sound of the snow crunching beneath his boots, as he walked, slowly. He did not know where he was going, "Just somewhere," he thought. "Anywhere but here".
He stopped. The forest remained eerily silent. Dracula closed his eyes, his heartbeat gradually getting faster and louder with every moment passing. He felt a rush of cold air on the back of his neck, and a faint hiss. He cocked his head slightly, only to feel great teeth sink into his neck. His head beginning to droop, the feeling of his body hitting the cold ground.. darkness slowly swallowing him...
He awoke in his bed, stripped bare of his clothes. Looking at himself, he began to wonder why he was so pale. He managed to lift his hand to the left side of his chest. No heartbeat. "Am I dead?" He asked himself. Beside him, lay a mirror. He looked into it, but could see nothing. He threw the mirror across the room, only for it to shatter into tiny shards all across the floor. Though he hadn't relized it yet, Dracula had become a vampire.
It wasn't until later that night when he felt a dry feeling in his mouth. Thirst upon the border of dehydration. He licked his teeth hoping for a drop of salaiva, but there was none. He got up and looked out of his Castle window , down to the streets below. He turned to his closet , got dressed, and headed down the spiraling staircase which met the cobblestone- road, in which few were walking. His head jerked to the sound of a heartbeat. Slow, and steady, like the drum of life. He followed his ears, which lead him behind a man, standing near the street lantern, talking to himself. Obviously this man was drunk. He kept rambling on about the little nothings, that no one would ever talk about. Dracula could not help but think "Perfect," in his mind. His feet were walking toward the man from behind, he could not stop, they were out of his control. His mouth widened, only to reveal tremendous fangs. In one swift movement, he felt the flesh and blood between his teeth, the sweet taste of human, a great satisfaction of a job well done.