Marshall looked into the mirror above the bathroom sink. He fingered his face, feeling that it had bristles where a beard was starting to grow. He examined his long hair, how it fell down into his eyes, and spilled down his neck. It had been a while since he had trimmed it. Now would probably be a good time.
Taking a sharp looking knife in hand, Marshall expertly shaved off the bristles on his face. He left his hair alone, putting it up into a pony tail in the back. Really, it didn't look half bad, and it wasn't as long as he had suspected. He looked into the eyes of the Vampire King, and saw that they looked hard and angry.
They weren't the eyes of the Marshall he had used to be six months ago. It had been half a year, half a year since he had left the Land of Aaa, and had left his one true love Fionna. Her name stung his mouth when he said it, as if it were poison. Even after six months, he still felt things for her, even though he knew he shouldn't.
He ran a hand through his messy hair, What have I become? He was answered unexpectedly. There was a knock at the door. Rising up, Marshall floated over to it and opened it. "Yes," he asked in a slightly annoyed voice. Standing on the other side of the door was a pair of legs. "Uh, yes your majesty. I just came to let you know that another demon has challenged you. They wanna fight."
Marshall sighed. This had become a daily routine, ever since he had taken his mother's place. She hadn't told him about the challengers. They wanted to, as she put it, slice his throat open and drink his blood. Then they would take his place under blood oath, as was tradition. And since he was the Vampire King as well, this would be a bonus for whoever defeated him. If they drank his blood, they would gain powers that only vampires were supposed to have. This, coupled with demon blood, made for an interesting line of challengers, ones from all over the Nightosphere.
Marshall wasn't about to lose his life to anyone, nor was he about to lose his title. He had finally taken over the Nightosphere, and he had nowhere else to go as far as he was concerned. It was be King or be dead. Unlike his mother who was deathless, he could very well die. His vampire side eliminated that key thing in his otherwise demon blood chain. And even if he hadn't been turned into a vampire, his human blood had already ruined that.
Really, other than that, Marshall was invincible. His strength was tripled compared to others of his nature. Some of the challengers were unusually strong for what they were too. Marshall found out the first day on the job why. They drank blood. Real blood.
But his mother, who didn't want anyone else to rule in her steed, had planned for this little hitch. As soon as he had sworn to rule with an iron fist, she had forced him to take up drinking blood, and not the color red. It had been a hard transition, since for almost a thousand years he had done nothing but drinking the color of blood.
At first, it had been too much for him, and he had vomited and become sickly. His mother, as ruthless as she was, egged him on, promising that once he got used to it, it wouldn't be so bad. Marshall, knowing that eventually he would have to fight for his position, agreed. Now a days he drank it as if he had done so for years. It wasn't exactly delicious, but he had to admit, it did have an exquisite taste. He craved it now, lived off it like every vampire should. He was now stronger, faster, and smarter than he had ever been. He had noticed that his muscles had gotten bigger, and that he could easily flip a car if needs be. Also, he could almost swear to it that he had grown an inch or two.
It didn't surprise him at all really. He knew that drinking blood is what gave most vamps their amazing powers and abilities. He didn't flaunt his new talents though.
He kept to himself, mostly staying in his room. He had given up playing his bass anymore, seeing as how his original was destroyed. His awesome killer axe bass had finally met its match in the arena one day, while he was using it to beat a challenger with a metal head. Besides, every time he had tried to sing, his voice had grown thick, and he just couldn't, thinking too much about how he and Fionna had jammed together back in Aaa.
Marshall looked up at the pair of legs, "Thanks for telling me Jeff. You can take the rest of the day off." "Really?" Jeff asked. Marshall nodded, then remembered that Jeff was too tall to see him, "Yeah, go on. I can get another servant to tell me stuff." Jeff turned around, "Thanks man! I owe you one!" and then ran off, heading back down the hall.
For some odd reason, Marshall felt charitable today. Maybe today would be the day that he would only have twenty challengers instead of a hundred. Floating away from the doorway, Marshall grabbed the dark blue axe bass by the door. "Come on Fi," he said with a sigh, "Time to go chop some heads off."
Thanks for ur reviews XD