Marishka's POV
I'm not sure if I can remember when it all really started, our infatuation for each other that is. I call it an infatuation because I no longer know what it means to love. That feeling has been alien to me for some centuries now. But I suppose it can go all the way back to when we were children.
Valerious the Elder was a very powerful man for his time, yet he made many enemies with his native peoples'. At the time when I was about three, Transylvania was attacked by the Christian Crusaders. It became evident to Valerious that in order to protect his lands, he would have to convert to Christianity and establish it as the primary religion of our land. My mother and I were both full gypsy, as were many of the people living in that town. When Valerious declared that our ways would no longer allowed to be practiced, many accused him of betraying the blood that ran through his very veins, for he inherited gypsy blood from his father. My mother herself, refused to give up her "demonic" practices, as they called it, and told me to not lose them as well.
I have no knowledge exactly how it happened, or who was responsible. All I remember is that it was a very dark night, and unbearably cold. My mother wrapped me up in blankets and drew me close to her, keeping me safe from the biting winds that blow in through the flaps in our tent. Sometime during the night, I felt my mother's warmth leave my side. When I woke up I found myself alone, the flaps of the tent torn apart and left in shreds on the ground. It is one thing for any person to feel scared, but I was very small and I not only felt panic but hysteria. As I ran out of the tent, barefoot and crying, I sprinted to town screaming out for my mother. Some who were close by looked at me with puzzlement, with sadness, with amusement, yet not one of these people helped me.
When I reached the town square I ran from door to door, begging for someone to find my mother, to reveal where she was. All my efforts were in vain, for even those who bothered to answer the door held the same indifference as those watching me from the dirt road. Crying in pain I fled the town square, in the direction of Valerious Manor. This was my last hope. My mother was a slave for the Valerious family, and it was the only place she could be. Yet if she had come here, why did she not tell me? Why did she not wake me and leave me with Rosamund like always?
Making my way through the forest, I was headed for the back door that the stable hands were when I felt myself collide with another body. As I fell to the floor, my crying ceased as feelings of surprise took their place. Looking over to the unfortunate one I had crashed into, I was met with the most handsome face. The boy had raven black hair, and firm tanned skin. His face shown all the curves of masculinity and his eyes were hypnotizing. He was much older than me that much was for certain. And judging by his height when he stood, he couldn't have been less than fourteen years of age.
When he looked down at me, he smiled apologetically and gave a nervous laugh, "Oh, I didn't see you coming. Normally there is no one back here and my brother and I were playing, you see." Offering me his hand, I gingerly took it and hastily tried to hide my tears. However, he was much quicker in noticing them than I could prevent it.
"What is wrong? Don't cry… I'm sorry if I hurt you, I did not mean to." With this he pulled me into a hug, and hungry for comfort I took it. As my body shook with sobs, he shushed me gently while rocking me back and forth. I had never been touched by a man, due to the lack of a father, and I most certainly had never been held before by one so intimately. It was as if in that moment, I felt the same security I had only ever felt with my mother, the same love and tenderness she showed me which I was being given to by this beautiful stranger. As my sobs died down, he smiled at me, a smile that reached his warm eyes and made them sparkle. He then hoisted me up and carried me to the kitchen, where the cook made me a warm bowl of soup and set me down by the fire. That morning, I spent it with this kind, handsome boy, who introduced himself as Vladislaus Dragulia Valerious. I did not realize it then that this was the boy who would take over Transylvania one day, who would become the hero of every battle, the object of every woman's desire, and the envy of his siblings. I never saw him from that perspective. To me, he has always been just Vlad. It was this simplicity that allowed us to confide in one another. For some time, it was Vlad who would confess more to me, for my age provided that I had very little troubles. Yet when I was older, and was a servant for the Valerious Manor, our bond grew closer as we became inseparable. Had his father found out, we both would have been severely punished, so to prevent this we met in secret and talked and laughed and wrestled together.
Vladislaus was my best friend. He cared for me, and I for him. I was the only person who never expected anything from him, I merely accepted him for who he was; which to me was perfect. When his father beat him, I would hold him as he cried for hours. When his mother would ridicule him, I made sure to place a rat in her room. He dealt with so much pressure, for so much was expected from him, and I knew in my heart the responsibility would drive him mad. And mad he did become. At times he would become so angry with himself or his father that I became the person he would unleash his pent up emotions on. Several times he would hit me or scream incoherent words until I broke down into sobs. Upon seeing my tears, his eyes would soften and he would hold me and beg for forgiveness. He need not ask for it, for I always forgave him. I simply could not hate him, for my love for him was so much stronger. Yes, it was love then I suppose; a love that consumed us and would eventually lead us to our downfall.
Yet it wasn't until his father sent him away to the Vatican that I learned what became of my mother. Because of her beliefs and her refusal to give them up, she had been kidnapped and raped in the forest. When she could no longer stand, they took a knife and peeled off every inch of skin on her body before dumping her carcass into the river. This account was given to me by no other that Valerious the Elder himself, who felt that at eleven years old, I would be better at coping with the news.
He was wrong with this of course, and for two months I went through serious depression. I ate little and sleep was scarce. Many times I collapsed while working and with Vlad gone, I felt lonelier than I had the day I lost my mother.
When I turned fifteen, Vlad returned from the Vatican and he did not return alone. With him he brought a very handsome Gabriel Van Helsing whom he had become close to while at the Vatican.
It was the beginning of then end for us all……
"I don't want to be alone again tonight my love."
"Really? Now that sounds like a personal problem."
"Marishka, half of the problems we have stem from you and your stubbornness. If you were not so proud things could run much more smoothly."
"My stubbornness is nothing compared to your arrogance and jealousy. That is your biggest fault. Thousands have died because your pride would not allow you to forgive someone four hundred years ago……"
"You were my-"
"I WAS NEVER YOURS!!! YOU HAD A WIFE!"
Her voice came out as a roar and caused the very walls to shake. Yes, she had hurt him and yes they were damned because of her. Marishka was at the breaking point-no she had been at the breaking point many times, this was just an extreme breaking point. If Dracula really loved her, he would kill her and put her sufferings to rest. Immortality was worse than death. She felt no joy, no pain of any kind. The only emotions she could obtain were from those she killed, and at times killing was the only thing that made her feel alive.
Dracula stared at her hard. Without a word he got out of the coffin and made his way to the door.
Upon reaching it, he turned to look at her and she almost gasped at what she saw. His eyes were ice blue and he wore the same expression that he used when killing his victims. Hatred was powerfully present in his eyes and when he spoke his words were dripping with malice, "I will no longer attempt to treat you with any more regard than a common whore. Whether or not you like me I care not, but you are my property. You will do exactly as I say and if you don't, I will hurt you until your very eyes bleed. It is time you learned your place and recognize that I am your Master. Now come here."
He had a smug look on his face that made her want to slap yet she complied with what he said. When she reached him, he seized her neck and ripped her throat savagely, lapping on the blood gushing from her jugular. She screamed in agony, which only made him dig deeper into her throat. As the room began to fade to black, Marishka let out one word.
"Van Helsing."
Miles away in London, Van Helsing awoke drenched in sweat, shuddering at the nightmare he had of a demon and a beautiful woman with blonde hair and brown eyes calling out his name………………
Yeaaaaaa I noe what u guys are thinking, 'this girl is a procrastinator she waits years for updates'. I was actually gonna just discontinue the story for awhile coz I hit writers block but then it suddenly came to me so I just started writing. Ive already written the next chapter but I haven't typed it yet so stay tuned for that. Reviews por favor!!!!! lol
