Note

I am not romanticizing Vladimir Tepes/Dracula for the sake of this story. I kept him as close to history's interpretation as possible. He HIGHLY valued real members of his society, and though he obviously enjoyed his cruel methods, they were meant for good intent. Really, Vladimir was just what a lawless, godless place like Walachia had needed. Though that hardly makes him a good person, or even a bad person. In case you haven't guessed, the man was an absolute monster. I don't rate my stories casually. His line of family and of his royalty was slaughtered, he was thoroughly mistreated, there's no wonder that this wild King ended a bit stray from the pack of the sane. However, how deep do you think it goes. The 'Easter' thing mentioned in the previous chapter was the feast that Vlad first threw for his boyars and then burned them alive.

Pointless sentiments I doubt you'll read. I know I wouldn't.

But. Important: Eveline CAN see dead people. Does that clear up a couple of questions?

On to it then.

Death was imminent. The woman had convinced herself that she knew enough of death to know when it was coming, even if she couldn't yet see it's face. There was a difference between being ill, and feeling like something was entirely sucked out of you. Eveline no longer felt her own soul and had the terrible impression that it too, had abandoned her, left for heaven when her body and consciousness were meant to go to hell.

And how could she not?

Unable to determine the true span of time that had passed beneath the surface she currently laid upon, she sat in the same reel she'd been in since the instant her feet met ground after the lengthy ride. The marks on her wrists from her own mother's nails were all but faded except for the lightest pink, but she knew she would always be able to look at them with no chance of repair. And her father, oh her father. His ghost revealed the first time he'd been sober since she could remember her mother falling to the illness that plagued her til the end. Then there was the endless laughter.

Occasionally, when the roar of guilt threatened to give up for the chance for her body to slumber, the startling rip of a chord of humor shuddered through her frame. The prince, the King, and Count all lived in the same body and were the only devilish tie holding her to the world. HE'd taken her soul from heaven, stole it from her god, and now her entire family. Her poor elder sister must have thought she was slain along with her parents.

And did she know, could she know, that it was Eveline's digits that left her mother? She'd always wonder if her sister could see the same death she could. And…perhaps that was proof from the very beginning that she'd never belonged with the choir of angels. Only the demons dealt with such ghastly manners like death.

At the click, she'd been informed of the door opening. Occasionally, someone would try to rouse her, fluffing her pillows, offering food. But she'd stubbornly closed her eyes like a child, fully aware she did not have the peaceful expression on her face of true sleep. But if they really wanted contact, she would have to be truly forced. If not, she would lay here mimicking death until it finally gave into her will and she would pass on.

Or perhaps haunt the king. A vengeful spirit.

That idea was appealing as well. Though she wouldn't dare leave her parents for longer than she had to. Having justified this. The sound of the door did nothing but made the female squeeze her eyes more tightly together. Not able to make sense of the visits, given they seemed to have no set time or person. It didn't seem a surprise that she heard of nothing after that. For an immeasurable amount of time the silence met her kindly, her mind straying off it's track to listen for who might have happened upon her supposed room which she herself had not cared to even glance around. Just as her breathing relaxed, and sleep tempted her from the shadows, she felt surprisingly light fingers over her delicate throat.

The surprise was enough to make her pulse speed, or at least she thought so. If the person was checking for it, as they seemed to be, they should have been satisfied. But maybe, just maybe, her wish for death had truly been granted. She did feel surprisingly light, but perhaps this was brought on by the heartbeat that rocked into her.

Led once again into a false sense of security she found it easy to think that she was imagining the feel on her throat, and the multi colored hues opened up without expression on her face. Her mouth was so dry… It was incredibly dark, it surely hadn't been dark like this when she'd covered her optics. But she instantly saw the familiar face, the death about him being the main determining factor of who it was. The moonlight spilling in from the window behind his large frame was an angelic glow indeed, but cast him in an even darker silhouette.

At once, every ounce of breath ran out of her lungs in a breathy

"Oh"

Unable to see the expression, the sudden weight of the ice in her veins made her quite unable to move. And in that slight instance the touch to her supple skin had vanished along with it's giver, the only thing she heard in his wake was the click of the door.

Short. But next chapter is already in the process of being written.

I promise to update faster if someone reviews me.

PS. I would love love love an editor.

That is all.