But only for a moment, thank Glob. Shaking rubble from her hair she staggered to her feet and raced towards the door. Alain was already gone, but he couldn't have gotten far and he'd made one very big mistake: he'd left her alive. Also, he bass was by the door, she snatched it as she screamed past and crashed through the wall, ignoring the door, it'd be locked anyway.

A few pairs of red eyes followed her path as she tore through the night, but her leaving in such a hurried flurry wasn't unusual. She had a reputation for being impatient. It didn't matter how hard she strained, how the wind dragged at her hair, she couldn't seem to move fast enough.

The lights of the Candy Kingdom finally danced into view and she put her head down, not daring to imagine she might be too late. She didn't even bother trying to be sneaky; she just shrieked above the heads of the startled banana guards and headed for Bubblegum's window.

It had been torn from its hinges and now lay in a twisted heap, sprawled over the railing. Her stomach did a backflip and this time there was no denying, no getting around it; she was scared. Terrified.

But not too late.

Alain was just stepping into the room and she didn't slow, just barrelled straight into him. They tumbled through the room and smashed out the far window. He snarled and dug his claws into her shoulders. His long nails shredded her coat, ripped at her hair, her face, her arms, but she didn't let go.

They cannoned into the dirt of the gardens, carving a great swathe through the bushes. Now Marceline released him, planting both feet into his stomach and heaving him away as hard as she could. He put a nice hole in one hedge before collapsing to the ground on the far side. Marceline snatched her bass from her back and launched after him, already swinging, screaming at him. He rolled aside, narrowly avoiding her first blow and swept her legs out from under her. But, duh, vampires can fly and she didn't hit the ground, merely shot out of the way mid-air as his fist slammed through the place her head had just been.

She skittered around behind him and swung again. This time, he caught the axe on the follow through and heaved. Still holding onto the handle, she arced through the air over his shoulder and into the ground at his feet. He planted one booted foot on her throat to keep her from slipping away again.

"How dare you defy your king," he ground out between clenched teeth. "How dare you interfere with my will? I made you and I will unmake you just as easily. You're nothing, less than nothing, you have no power."

"I have one thing you don't have," she spat. "I have a friend. And I won't let you hurt her." Still gripping her axe tightly in one hand, she wrenched it upwards with as much strength as she could, burying the blade into his back.

Alain shrieked, stumbling away, freeing her and fell to his knees a few steps away. Marceline tottered over to him. She had never been as strong as him and even this little tussle had left her feeling drained. She had to stop him. Stop him now, forever.

"You think she's your friend?" he asked venomously. "You think she cares for you at all? You lied, spied and tried to kill her. Some friend." His words were smooth, delivered with a healthy dose of honey, designed to make her doubt herself. Marceline was beyond caring.

"Doesn't matter," she sighed, grabbing his face in her hands and leaning in close. "Even if she never speaks to me again, I know what it's like to have a friend, Alain. Something you never had once in your miserable existence. Something you'll never have because you're a monster. A power hungry monster. And you are afraid. But not of her, you're afraid of us – your people. Of me." With that, she yanked her arms sideways and up. Alain's eyes seemed about to burst from his skull and with a sickening pop-schllurrrrp his head was ripped from his neck.

The body slumped over, collapsing like… like… well like a body with nothing holding it up anymore. A sack with nothing in it, a house with no supports… an empty shell, lifeless. Exhaling heavily, Marceline bounced the head once on her hand before tossing it over her shoulder with a grim smile. She levered her axe free of Alain's back with a rough creaking sound and a wet suck. Dusting her bloodied hands on her pants she turned, not ready for what she saw.

"Uh… yo," she said awkwardly to the little butler. His arms were crossed and his face wore an expression of disapproval. So… he looked pretty normal really. He always seemed to have a stick jammed up his butt.

"Miss Abadeer I do believe you've wrecked the gardens," he intoned.

"Ugh," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "What is your problem? I just saved your little princess alright? Let me have this one, geez." It was what now… four hundred years ago? The silly striped sweet still hadn't forgiven her for accidentally snapping his favourite golfing iron in two. "How many times do I have to apologise?"

"You're nothing but trouble, Marceline," Peppermint said flatly. "Can't you just live somewhere peacefully?"

She grinned. "And what fun would that be, eh, Stripes?" She lifted off her feet to peer down at him from a satisfactory height.

They simply stared for a moment, Peppermint with a disgruntled glare and Marceline with a cheeky smile. "You haven't changed," he sighed. "And you're no basis on which to judge your kind really, but that doesn't mean I like you hanging about." He paused, letting his arms fall to his sides. "Yet… perhaps you can have some positive influence on your rabble."

Her smiled widened. "You know what I'm planning to do with my Rule, don't you, Stripes?"

His little black eyes gave nothing away, but the smile flickering around his mouth did. "Best you be careful, Miss Abadeer. Your father-"

"-had better have nothing to say about this, Peppermint," she warned, cutting him off. "Breath a word about Bubblegum and demonic dreams will be the least of your worries." Her eyes narrowed, hoping he took her seriously for once. He never had been able too, but she'd show him yet.

Finally a smile leaked through. "She'll never know you were here, and neither will he. But I-"

She waved him to silence. "Nah, Stripes, look. You keep this quiet and I'll do my bit. Hey, I might even get you a new club for your birthday. I was never here. Got it?"

"You know she'll find out eventually."

"Probably, but in the mean-time, you just pretend the guards are better at their jobs than everyone thinks."

"Deal."

It was simple really. Kill the Vampire King to become the new monarch and every time leadership changed hands the vampires were given a rule to live by. One unique to each leader. One that defined their role, their values and qualities. A rule that decided how many disgruntled followers would rise up to challenge the position.

Marceline had one rule and One Rule only: don't kill, not even to feed. Drink blood if it's donated willingly. Otherwise… pick a colour. Any colour. But she called dibs on red.