Dracula stood in his dormant room, staring at his fireplace that he had never used. He leaned against it, his cold eyes surveying his room, trying to distract himself from what he had committed. He had dropped a woman to her death out of anger, he knew he shouldn't have done it, but he had. For once in his life the count felt regret, guilt. No, he thought, I am beyond that. I cannot feel anything, even if I could, I would push them all away. Yet why do I feel this...this emotion? Guilt is nothing to me really, when do I actually feel that? Why should I care for guilt for killing that woman? Why do I feel...love? WHY! Of all things that I haven't felt in centuries, why above all else, this...love?!
"Why do I feel like a fool? To believe in this love, it's like...it's tormenting. I feel it, yet I don't want to. I sometimes wish I could love again, but then it doesn't come, I feel so hollow inside. Why do I feel again and why now, now that I am so close to taking over the world? Why do I have these emotions?" the count asked himself coldly as he held his face in his cold hands.
He stared at his hands, noticing how cold he was, how dead. Dracula could feel himself coming to tears, but he steadied himself. He laughed at himself, thinking it was pathetic to cry just because you feel something you haven't in years, centuries. Yet in his mind as he smirked at himself and told himself to was foolish, he knew he felt it and that he could. The only thing he wanted to know was why he was felling them now.
He walked over to the window and sat in his black velvet chair, putting his hand under his chair, thinking to himself. Soon the rain began to pour down, hitting the window like a bunch of pebbles, and then the thunder came for a moment. He watched as the thunder connected to each other, how almost everything in this world was connected. Again he was left to his thoughts as everything soon subsided, and a red moon appeared in the sky, symbolizing that blood had been shed. Dracula knew exactly what he had to do for tonight, and again it would be spent shedding blood.
-
-
-
-
Rose walked her tired self back to the little village of Vaseria back to her room. She sat on her bed, tears in her eyes already. She laid back in bed, feeling like the brave huntress she was, was no more. She had lost a life when she could have done something, but no, she was too human to do anything. Rose knew she should have stayed in that room, that way her and Kat would be safe, but no, she had to escape. Freedom was one thing she couldn't loose, and pride had gotten away this time, thinking she could get away with anything without loosing anyone.
She had finally fallen asleep only to wake up again to a howling wind and to night. As she got up, her body sore and scared, she grabbed her weapons and walked calmly outside. It was quiet outside, everyone was in theirs homes all quiet, but awake. She slowly walked down a path that she hadn't seen before, but followed it anyway.
The forest was quiet, undisturbed. As her silent footsteps walked on, there was a windmill. The windmill was old and abandoned, but she went in anyway. Inside the wooden room, bottles of absinthe were strewn everywhere. Rose ignored that fact and walked on, only to find a staircase that went into a downward spiral leading to darkness. She took a lantern and slowly went down the stairs cautiously.
When she came to the bottom, Rose found a path that went to the right, so she went down it. As she walked on a strong odor filled the room, almost making Rose gag. She pulled out a handkerchief and covered her nose, and raised her hand holding the lantern higher, only to find bodies of the undead fast asleep. She was surprised none had awoken yet, and then realized something. These were the missing people that Dracula had taken and killed. This was the place they all went.