Authors Note: Har. Chapter 3. Yay! Thought I couldn't do it, didn't you? Told you I would! Well, I guess I am like a week late, but that's better than nothing, eh?

I must admit… I like how this is turning out so far.

Random note: Battlestar is over. *sobcrysob* I'll never fall in love again… ;___;

….

XP

On to the story…!

WARNING!!!: Bloody, gory, disturbing violence in this chapter. REALLY bloody. Gross, gross stuff. No kidding. Reader beware.

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Chapter III

All That We Hold Dear

Dracula, the Vampire King, stood silently outside the bedroom door; his son's harsh words echoing in his mind. With a hand over his mouth in unease, only the sound of his breath invaded the air around him. He didn't even hear the light, swift footsteps approaching him from down the hall, with increasing speed and volume.

'You killed him…' The same voice pierced his mind suddenly and painfully, but this time with more hate, more rage, than he had ever heard before or since. 'You killed him… This… this is all your fault… it's you who should be dead…'

"Father…" A soft, gentle female voice jarred him from his thoughts. The vampire looked up with such surprise you'd believe the Devil himself had addressed him.

As his eyes rested on her fair, gentle face, he watched her look at him with concern, his distress clear to her. Like D, she was a dhampir. Unlike D, she was short, with a slightly rounded face; her features much softer and different than that of the man she called 'Father'. Her hair was light brown; her eyes hazel.

"…Is he…?" She asked, barely above a whisper.

Dracula parted his lips slightly as he took a breath; his head bobbed and twitched and his eyes wondered, as though his thoughts still distracted him from her question.

The dhampiress glanced towards the door, then back. "Can I see him?"

"…Oh… uh…" He shook his head. "No… no, not now… He, uh…" The king paused and swallowed hard. "There was an accident…" He said. "He's not feeling his best."

The woman studied her fathers face again. He purposely averted his eyes away from her. "…What happened…?" She finally asked.

Finally, he looked at her and flashed a forced smile. "Nothing, my dear…" But he could only maintain it for barely a moment. "Go to your quarters… I'll let you know when he's feeling better… Alright?"

She looked at him for a moment before giving him an uncertain half-smile and nodding. "Okay…"

He nodded back. "Go on now… Everything's fine… Go on…"

The dhampiress pursed her lips together, then dropped her head and eyes and turned to leave. After a few steps she turned back around. "Father…?"

An uncomfortable shift in position was his only response to her.

"I… I'm glad it worked… It was a good idea…."

He smiled hollowly at her for a moment, "Yeah…" then looked down at the ground. "I'm… I'm glad too…"

It felt like an eternity as Dracula waited patiently for the sound of his daughter's footsteps to fade into the endless hollows of the castle corridors. Once he could hear them no longer, he lifted his head and took a deep, shaky breath, staring at the ceiling as if it had an answer for what to do next. After a moment, he turned towards the door, looking at it with the same expression, as if awaiting its permission to enter. He put a hand on the doorknob, contemplating his decision. Perhaps now that D had had some time to calm, he would be more inclined to talk… he hoped.

Cautiously, he turned the knob, then slowly pushed open the door as quietly as he could. He entered, then tilted his head to the side curiously as his eyes rested on his guest.

He was asleep.

Silently, Dracula stepped up to the side of the bed and looked down upon him. He smiled. For the first time since he'd been back, there seemed to be some sense of peace on the renowned hunter's face.

But suddenly, the peace was disturbed by a strange noise under the covers. A hiss, then… a grumble?

Dracula narrowed his eyes as he tried to make sense of the noise.

"D!" A gruff, muffled, disembodied voice called out. "Wake up, D! We gotta get outta here! Come on! Wake up!"

The vampire's eyes then grew wide. He stepped closer to the bed, listening carefully to pinpoint the source. He reached down and lifted the covers from D's left hand, which was palm down against the bed, then turned it over.

There, embedded in the middle of the hunter's otherwise normal hand, was a wrinkly little face, it's beady black eyes stared up at the Vampire King with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

Dracula raised an eyebrow; his mild expression broke into a smile. "Well…" He said softly, as to not disturb D, although he seemed to be sleeping fairly hard. "What an earth are you?"

Those little black eyes blinked several times, but didn't answer.

"Have you known my son long?" He asked, trying to make friendly conversation.

The symbiote blinked again, then cracked a smirk. "I guess you could say we're close…" He said, then snorted and snickered at his own joke.

Dracula grinned at his humor. "It must be cramped in there." He said and raised a hand over D's. "Why don't you come out and stretch your legs?"

"…Huh? I don't got any-- What the…?!" Before the symbiote could say anything else, a green mist surrounded his vision, then suddenly, he felt himself rise, separating from his host.

Fear overcame him. He was a parasite. No chance did he have of survival without a host. And now this powerful vampire was finally extracting him from what he had called home for so long. He was certain this was the end. However, for some reason, it didn't hurt as much as he thought it would. It didn't hurt at all.

But fear was soon replaced by another sensation.

Warmth.

He'd never felt real temperature before. Not hot, not cold; only the sense of D's body temperature, whether he was in distress or not.

Now, he felt it. Felt the cool breeze from the window, the warmth of Dracula's hand under his feet.

…He had feet.

In fact, he had a whole body. He looked down at himself, examining his new appendages. Green, translucent skin covered a chubby little belly, attached to skinny little hands and feet; at the end of which were tiny little digits he stretched and curled and admired in fascination. He sat like a dog, with his long hind legs flat against Dracula's hand. He had to be no bigger than a small cat. He could feel something else too. His hands explored his head and backside, where he found two long ears and a tail.

Finally, he looked up at Dracula, who smiled, awaiting his commentary.

The same beady eyes looked up at him, now filled with fascination and disbelief. "…What the hell did you do?!"

The Vampire King laughed heartily. "Merely gave you the gift of form, my friend. From what I've heard, you've helped my son quite a bit. You deserve some kind of reward."

"Ohh, reward, eh? Can't say I don't like the sound of that!"

"Come." Dracula smiled as he turned to leave the room, carrying the little green creature in his hand. "Let's hear your stories, shall we? I want to know everything. Tell me, have you ever had caviar?"

"Never ate nothin' before."

"Well then, you're in for a treat!"

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Beautiful…

That's all he could think about as his eyes gazed onto the face before him. The only creature in the world he would describe with such a word. Beautiful…

Now, in the darkness, as she slept, a look of pure peace and contentment gracing her pale face - her arm gently wrapped around a little bundle who lied with the same serenity - she was the most lovely.

As he admired her, he was overcome by a sense of well-being. Knowing this… this was all he needed. All he lived for. All he fought for. Finally… just to see her happy. To see her like this.

He stared unblinkingly, fighting sleep. He stared because he didn't want to let go. He didn't want to forget. He didn't want to loose this. This moment… this moment he wanted to keep forever. And the faster he let himself fall into unconsciousness, the sooner it would slip away.

He couldn't let it slip away. For a moment, he believed it never would. He actually believed this could be eternal.

But then suddenly, the realization came to him. He didn't see it or hear it, but he felt it. Like the floor moving under his feet although he laid still. Though she lie next to him, she seemed to be drifting further and further away. Both of them were.

Suddenly he was filled with incredible fear. Anxiety overcame him, making him feel as though his stomach would burst. As though he were falling and he couldn't catch himself.

No… he thought. Wait… Don't go… He saw his hand, felt himself reach out to them. They seemed so far away.

Eko… he heard her say, though her face didn't move. Eko… don't go…

Please…

Don't go…

Finally, he felt her soft skin under his palm. The sun was shining. She opened her eyes and smiled.

Eko…

Her lips moved slowly, but her voice seemed to come from all around him. Echoing through his mind…

Please… She said again, her disembodied voice floating around them. Don't go…

He gazed at her and she gazed back, but said nothing else, as though she was waiting for something. Waiting for him to say…

"I'm not…"

D's own mumbling voice knocked him out of his sleep. He blinked his eyes open. His surroundings confused him… Where had she gone…?

Then, after a moment, he realized she wasn't there. That she never had been.

As he came further into consciousness, he felt his face contort unpleasantly and his throat grow sore and swollen. He frowned deeply and furrowed his brow, glaring at the empty space on the bed next to him, silently cursing his subconscious for playing such a cruel trick.

It was just a dream…he thought. Just a dream… A meaningless, senseless dream.

Soon, his sorrow was replaced by anger and restlessness. He took a deep breath and huffed as he forced himself to swallow the pain in his throat, then shoved his elbows into the mattress, forcing his body off the bed.

"Graagh!" He cried out suddenly as searing pain shot up and down his body like bolts of electricity. His muscles grew rigid with the unexpected agony and he fell back down onto the cushioning below, which felt like brick as it slammed into his tender flesh.

He grit his teeth and growled as the back of his head pushed into the pillow below while he waited for the pain to subside. The dhampir felt his face flush and grow hot. Sweat dampened his brow as his breaths came heavy and violent.

As he laid there, staring at the ceiling, her face came back to him in flashes. Her voice echoed through his mind. He growled and sputtered, more in an attempt to shut her up than anything else.

He forced his head to the side, huffing through the pain in his neck, searching for his clothes and belongings, but found nothing he recognized. After catching his breath and readying himself, he tried again.

The hunter lifted an arm. It trembled with ache and weakness, but he managed to get his fingers around the sheets and pull them off. Next, he forced himself to roll, pushing against the bed with one arm, then swinging it to the other side to catch him as he threw his legs off the edge of the bed. He sat there, keeled over to one side trying to lift himself up. He couldn't believe how weak he was. How the stinging, burning pain resonated deep into his bones. Never in his life had he felt pain like this.

Finally, he managed to sit up straight. He sat there, slouching with his hands on his knees, breathing heavy and looking down at himself in dismay.

He was almost nude, with nothing but a cloth wrapped around his waist. His whole body was covered by patches of gauze and bandages where his flesh had split. His skin was pink and inflamed, and very, very warm. So warm, he was sweating. He reached up a shaking hand and moved heavy, damp locks from sticking to his face.

As he looked around, he found he couldn't focus. The room was like an illusion, as though he wasn't really there. For a moment, he thought, maybe this was just a dream too.

But it wasn't a dream. Not this part. As frustration festering up inside of him, he grasped the bedpost with his arm, with far more force than he'd ever imagine having to use in the past, and lifted himself up. As he came to his feet, his knees began to tremble as they struggled to support his weight.

Suddenly, the room was spinning around him. He felt himself begin to fall as the floor tilted under him. Frantically, he grasped the bedpost with his other arm. As his knees collapsed under him, his hip hit the nightstand, knocking the white and silver marble lamp over and shattering it on the ground.

As he leaned his whole body against the wood post, he pressed his forehead against the ball at the top and closed his eyes, trying to still his chaotic surroundings, fighting through the returning pain. It took him a moment to realize the noise he heard after that was a door opening, and the voice of a woman.

"My lord!" She said in shock and unease. "You… you should be resting, My Lord! You are in no condition to be up and walking!"

D slowly moved his head just far enough so that he could see her out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing.

She took a step forward. It was the same girl who had been attending to him earlier; a young, dark haired human woman with deep brown eyes. "Sir…" She said, her tone quieting. "Please… please lie down."

He looked away from her for a moment, then back. "Wh… where are my things…?" The hunter said wearily.

The concerned woman blinked and cocked her head to the side. "Downstairs, Sire…" She said calmly. "But you need to rest..."

"No…" The dhampir cut her off. "I'm not staying in here… Please…" Shakily, he pushed himself off the bedpost and tried to stand up straight, having to keep one hand where it was so that he wouldn't loose his balance. He looked at her, his chest heaving and his eyes red with sleep deprivation. "I'd really like… some clothing…"

She hesitated, then looked around a moment before hurrying to pick something from a hanger in the corner - a plain, white robe. The servant approached him cautiously and helped him put it on. When she pressed on his shoulder to get him to sit down, there was little he could do to protest.

The hunter sat there for a moment, appreciating the time to catch his breath. Before he could realize she was moving around the room, the woman was standing before him with a glass of cold water. "Here…" She said softly. "You need to stay hydrated…"

He glanced up at her for a moment, then took the glass. "Thank you…" The dhampir didn't drink just yet. He stared down at the ground, at the wall, at nothing in particular. "…Myra… is it…?"

She nodded meekly and shown a half-smile. "Yes, Sir. That's right."

"…Why do you stay here, Myra?" He asked, barely above a whisper. "Why do you serve a vampire?"

The young woman smiled further, as though the question was silly. "Your father is a good man, Sire. I've got a big family and he's helped support us for a long time. We used to live in poverty."

He looked up at her. "You support your whole family on a servant's wage?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm a volunteer. He's very charitable and generous, Sir. He's set no conditions for us gaining his help." The woman clasped her hands in front of her and lowered her head modestly. "I just like to do my part."

D looked at her for a moment, then looked down. After a moment, he put his lips to the glass in his hands and drank more than he meant to.

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Footsteps echoed through the dark, metal-bound hallways; the only light trickling down from the swaying fluorescents above - or the ones that were left intact. Half a dozen pairs of boots. It was no army, but enough to sing the song of death, the symphony of ghosts. Their clothes were dark; their footwear heavy; the long, dark, sleek hair they possessed tied neatly near the top of their heads.

Only one stood out from the others.

Blood red locks fell from his mane. His clothing was grand, yet practical. The attire of a warrior king; shimmering black metal decorated with erratic streaks of the same crimson hue.

Finally, they entered a room, joining a few others like themselves.

"Akura mohn, gentlemen. Is it ready?" The red-haired leader asked.

"Akura mohn, Sire. Yes. They're all here."

The group of vampires looked through a large glass window into the next room. It was far bigger, darker… and filled with at least a thousand humans. Men, women and children alike, crammed together like animals. Their clothes tattered and dirty; their bodies thin with famine.

The man stepped closer to the glass, looking down at them, relishing their unease and cluelessness.

One of he others laughed. "We threw a piece of bread at them not too long ago. Fought over it like rabid dogs, they did."

The leader turned to the speaker and watched him grin.

"Fought so hard, a couple of them died!" His accomplice let out a burst of laughter. "Wasn't even a mouthful, and they were killing each other over it!"

The head vampire smiled at his companion, then turned back to the faces of the humans, filled with fear and confusion, with no idea what was about to happen to them. "You see, my friends? Do you see why we are making this sacrifice? These… animals cannot be allowed to inherit the earth. It does not belong to them. It belongs to the strongest and most evolved of creatures. It belongs to us."

"We understand, Sire. We believe in your cause." Another vampire said to him.

"Good." He responded. "Let's begin."

A panel stood in front of the window. One of the soldiers stepped up to it, flipped a switch, and pressed a button. "Commencing." He said simply.

Suddenly, the ground beneath them began to shake. Unseen gears and machinery began to wail and quiver, churning threateningly behind the steel walls. The vampires watched as the humans began to scramble; screaming, clinging and pushing as the walls on either side of the room began to move closer together.

The vampires laughed with cruel amusement as their victims began to climb on top of each other, attempting to outrun the danger as they were pushed closer and closer.

The screams, cries and pleas for help became louder and more horrified as they were accompanied by the pops and cracks of crushing bone, the gush of spilling blood, until the walls finally closed and all that was left was a slit between them, solid red against the glass, the room now filled to the brim with death.

The leader of he vampires there took a satisfied breath. "Well done. Have the group for the next round here by tomorrow. We still have a long way to go."

"Yes, Sire." Another said as they all turned to leave the room.

As their footsteps faded into nothing, the only sound left was the quiet trickle of blood pouring through the grated floor, collecting in a giant oval-shaped funnel, pooling the fresh crimson liquid into a single coffin, where there lied the shriveled, rotted corpse of an ancient and deadly power of ages past.

To be continued…

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Author's Note: See? Told you it was gross... Uhhh... hope it's not TOO gross for you. O__O Sorry about that… but when you're writing about evil vampire regimes, yukkiness tends to come with the territory! :O!!!

Peace and love, y'allz, peace and love. ^o^