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Isabel seemed lost in a corridor of dreams and nightmares.

She felt her ribcage peeled open - felt the bone and sinew snap and give way as wolves tore at her - felt her limp, dead body twitch as the creatures ripped at her, peeling meat from what was left of her rotting corpse.

Then, she was running - running as hard as she could. It took her half a second to realize the shapes in the night whipping past her were trees. Something was chasing her. Isabel heard the snapping of trees behind her as something enormous smashed its way through. She tripped, staggered, and fell. Hearing the roar of a gigantic creature, she rolled onto her back.

Hovering over her was… a demon. A dragon. Both. Its claws, black as night, dug into the ground on either side of her head. It was gigantic. The creature had five eyes - three on one side, two on the other… and they were glowing a bright, fiery red. The monster's maw was dripping blood - and as its massive jaw opened, the blood leaked from its mouth as though it were bleeding. It let out a screech - an ear piercing cry as it it drove its head down towards her, ready to sink its fangs into her and break her into pieces.

Another door, another nightmare.

Her ribcage was peeled open again - this time by men. By vampires - but no better than the wolves. Splayed out on a table like a suckling pig, her body was split open down the center. They were devouring her with no more reverence than a Wall Street executive would mourn as they cracked the shell of a lobster.

They laughed and conversed about something else entirely as she felt herself die upon that table. She waited for her vision to go dark - but she was in the world of dreams. In dreams, death did not necessarily come so quick.

She heard their conversations. "Lord Dracula… do you believe such an immediate appearance is wise? You are not yet fully recovered."

"I do… what must… be done." The voice was raspy - pulling air into the decayed lungs was painful, even as they filled with fresh blood. She knew it hurt - she could feel it. The voice, although it was a shadow of it's 'normal self' - she knew it well. She could hear it now like it was almost her own - and she knew what was happening.

Whose mind did they now occupy? Whose dreams, his or hers?

Did it matter anymore?

A hand closed around her throat - a painfully thin hand, although when last she had seen it in the waking world, it had been just bone. 'This is what awaits you, if I am kind,' she heard in her mind. 'This is a quick death compared to what I hunger to see done to your soft flesh.'

The threat sent her into a cold chill in the dream - even as she was this half-corpse, spread open on the table as a feast. But she was never one to take threats without a response. This was dreams, and dreams didn't have to make sense. It was a battle of wills, wasn't it? Isabel didn't know where she drew the strength - she didn't know where she summoned the gaul - but she closed her hand around a steak knife on the table next to her.

She lashed out, suddenly and unexpectedly - and rammed the steak knife into the side of the vampire's face.

Isabel awoke as the sound of his scream faded into the sound of hers. She was lying on a cot, shaking - her heart pounding in her ears as the adrenaline rushed through her. "God damn it," she swore under her breath and pressed her hands against her face.

This was getting stupid. If he wanted her dead, she wished he'd just do it already. In one moment, he's urging her to help him find her, for fear of someone else doing the deed. He wanted to kill her. Slowly. And he wanted it to be his doing. No one else's. "Possessive little fuck," she swore again, as her heart began to slow back down to normal. "Fuck you." Swearing at him didn't really help at all, he couldn't hear her - but it made her feel a little better, anyway.

"Nightmares?"

Isabel jumped, and nearly fell off the cot. Who the - oh. Tim. She looked over, and rubbed her eyes as she saw him standing by the bars. The lights had flicked on - his doing, no doubt - and she was now squinting against the fluorescent glare.

"Yeah. I get them frequently," she muttered. "Side effect of the 'job.' But lately they haven't been private," she sighed angrily and swung her feet over the edge to sit up.

"Mav told me Dracula's already gotten into your head. Something vampires can only do with people they've bitten - yet you're clean. That true?" he asked, matter-of-factly. She respected that about him - out of everyone she'd met in this misadventure, he was the only blunt one so far.

"Call me lucky. It sucks."

"Yeah, yeah it fuckin' does. I hear Mav in my head all the time, and I signed up for this bullshit." Tim sighed. "Hey, but, yours won't be permanent, anyway, right?" He shrugged, trying to sound helpful.

Isabel narrowed an eye. "Did you just pull a 'don't worry, he's only planning on killing you' routine?"

Tim shrugged again. "Doing my best here, toots."

"One, that's sad. Two.. thanks? I guess?"

"No problem," he replied with a smirk. "Anyway, I was about to come get you up. It's time to go."

It's not like Isabel liked being a prisoner locked in a cell. It hadn't been the first one she'd spent some time in, and this one was at least cleaner than most. But the thought of wherever they were taking her was worse. She had two options: Either Maverick was going to take her behind a shed and shoot her, or he was bringing her to Dracula. Either way, she lost.

"I know," Tim said, seeing the look on her face. "I know. I'm sorry. But there's nothing I can do. Mav told me to take you to the lab showers and let you get cleaned up, if you want."

"Yeah, sure," Isabel stood up and shook her head idly. Like a last meal before an execution. "Might as well be spring fresh for dying.."

Tim unlocked the cell and stood aside, letting her out. "Sorry, toots. I really am. You seem like good people." He shrugged.

Isabel shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, and smiled faintly at him. "Even if I did shoot you."

"Even if you did shoot me," he confirmed, and lead her out the door and down a corridor. He was walking next to her, more like a friend than a jailkeeper. "Speaking of. Try any shit and I'll have no problem hurting you."

"I won't. What's the point?" Isabel shrugged idly. "I don't know how to get out of here, and Maverick has enough men with guns, that I'll get stopped. And even if I got out, then what? I guess I'll go back to trying to find someone to help me rescue my friends? I tried that once, it didn't work out." She paused, thoughtfully. "What did ever happen to the priest I was trying to find?"

"They left," Tim said with a shrug. "We found the place abandoned when we went to set up and wait for you."

"You found it… how did you know to go there? How'd you know that's where I'd go?" She blinked, confused. Nobody knew where she was headed.

"Dunno, to be honest. Orders came straight from Dracula. There were a couple places his 'generals' were told to set up camp and wait. That was one of 'em."

"That doesn't make any sense…" she muttered to herself. "I don't get it."

Another shrug from Tim, and that was all he had to say on the subject. A few more turns, and they were in what looked like gym lockers. Signs on the wall loudly proclaimed that the showers were to be used by laboratory scientists only, and were not for 'casual use.'

"Should be everything you need in there," Tim said and took up his post outside the door and shut it behind him.

She walked in, looked around, and saw a glimpse into another life. Here was a pack of scientists, dutifully going about their lives - their drama, their happiness and sadness, their loves and hate. All working for a vampire. She wondered how many of them knew? Probably not many…

Better get to it, she scolded herself. Not poking around other people's lives. She took off her hoodie and slung it onto a bench, followed by the rest of her clothes. Isabel idly touched a scar on her arm that she had received from an adventure in Jordan. 'Didn't even cry,' Tex had boasted proudly of her to the others when they had come back out of the ruins with a rag tied around her bleeding arm. 'And I can't stitch for shit.'

She felt tears sting her eyes again and she let out a wavering, frustrated sigh. Tex. Poor Tex. She wouldn't let Adam and Eric suffer the same fate - if she could help it. If they weren't already dead. Isabel was afraid she'd know sooner rather than later, and that the knowing might be worse than the wondering.

A twist of the knob, and hot water began pouring from the stainless steel fixture. Climbing into the shower, she was shocked how good it felt. She let herself enjoy the feeling of the warmth for a long minute before cleaning up.

Turning off the water, she pulled a towel in from the rack next to the shower stall and let herself relish the feeling of the clean fabric. Opening the stall, she blinked, seeing a second set of clothes folded next to hers. Clearly meant for for her.

"Peeping tom!" she yelled towards the door, and just heard Tim's loud laughter from the other side.

"Mav's not about to drop off the prize turkey smelling like B.O.," he yelled back through the door.

"I'm not a- and I didn't - Oh fuck you," she yelled back, but couldn't help the grin on her face. She only heard Tim's laughter in response again.

The new clothes were her size, and they were fairly nondescript. Underwear, jeans, dark red tank top. And a black hoodie, tags still attached from the store. She smiled despite herself and shook her head. Was she that predictable?

Changing, she had to admit the new clothes felt nice. It's not like she had packed for living in Boston for weeks.

Slinging her shoes and her gloves back on, she walked out of the door and looked at Tim with a genuine smile. "Thanks for the hoodie."

"Made them go get one," he said with a shrug. "I don't want you touching me. I don't need another person in my head," he said with a small smirk. "And you're welcome. C'mon. They're waiting."

She walked alongside him in silence as they made their way through the building. As they got to the exit, they were joined by two men with guns. Tim stepped in front of her, stopping her short. Isabel looked at him, curiously.

Tim looked at her with an 'this is stupid, but protocol' expression, and pulled out a pair of black handcuffs. Gesturing for her to turn around. She did so without complaint, and put her arms behind her back. She felt the metal snap around her wrists. Isabel walked back out, feeling like she was now officially walking to her own execution.

Looking up at the sky as she walked out, she saw it was just past sundown. Of course it was. The sky was still a faint blue of the fading light.

With Tim's help, she climbed into the SUV. Although he did 'accidentally' slip when helping her and let her smack her head into the door jamb. "Ow," she snapped at him.

"Whoops," was his sarcastic reply.

Isabel finally sat down in the seat, somewhat uncomfortably with her arms behind her back. Sitting across from her was Maverick, dressed in black business attire. Next to him was a woman, whose face she recognized, even if she had never actually seen it before. That must be 'Aria.' Maverick's wife. She was beautiful in a classic way with dark hair, and bright green eyes that belied intelligence. Isabel wondered idly which one was the 'smarter' of the two.

"I apologize for the restraints," Maverick began. "You have demonstrated that you can be… resourceful and unpredictable."

"I'm not sorry, for the record," Tim looked at her with a grin.

"Yes, fine, I shot you, get over it already," she replied, which made Tim snort in laughter.

"In as much as Tim is capable of such things, I see you two are making fast friends," Aria said with a faint smile.

"For what it's worth," Isabel responded, her bitterness leaking more into her voice than she had intended. The car was moving now, and it was driving through the abandoned streets, towards the structure that was looming over the building tops, across the river from where Maverick's lab was located.

Great.

Dread welled up in her as she saw it - the bony spires like claws, stabbing at the sky that was now perpetually black behind it. "Any chance you guys could just… kill me now? Tell him I did something dumb?"

"You do not fear death at our hands - but you fear it at his?" Aria asked, curiously.

"You haven't heard what he's threatened to do to me," she mumbled back and shrank back into the seat as much as she could with her hands behind her back.

"I regret to say that we have no compelling reason to do so, as we must serve Lord Dracula," the female vampiress responded.

"I don't blame you," Isabel replied with a sigh. "I just had to ask." After a pause, she looked to Maverick. "Tim told me that you guys were told where to find me - but I don't know how that's possible. Nobody knew where I was going."

"Dracula had a short list. As to where he received that information, I do not know," Maverick responded dryly. His elbow was on the sill of the SUV window, and his hand was curled with his chin resting on it. He seemed uninterested at the surface, but she could sense his nervousness underneath.

"You're not a fan of him, are you?" she asked, getting straight to the subject.

Maverick glanced to her, then back to the window. "I have no inspiration to trust him," he replied after a pause. "I do not know him. But, he is the creator of us all - and for that reason, I must obey him." Maverick paused before adding, "He can never truly die, and for that reason I must fear him."

"He… is the creator of you all? What do you mean by that? Like, you're in his… lineage, or whatever the hell you people call it?"

Maverick smirked. "Yes. But not in the manner you mean. Dracula is the first vampire known to walk the earth."

Isabel blinked, and silence fell over them for a long moment. "The first..? Wasn't he… I mean, the 15th century, right?"

Aria smiled sadly. "He has had many names. My master, when he lived, knew him in Germany as the nachzehrer Reinmar von Brux - in the 13th century. Before then, he called himself Gabriel for many centuries."

Isabel looked down at the floor, and let that sink in for a moment. "Why change his name?"

"Over time, he has known to come back to this earth somewhat changed since his previous appearance," Maverick replied, still sounding skillfully detached, despite his nerves. "So perhaps he found the previous names no longer suited him."

"Or boredom," Tim inserted. "I vote boredom."

All of it sunk in at once. Her situation was hopeless before, but now… Isabel couldn't help but laugh sarcastically at herself. The three in the car looked at her for explanation. "I'm sorry… I'm just… I've really gone and fucked myself this time."

No one had a response to her undeniable statement, and they sat in silence for the remainder of the ride. The car stopped, the doors opened, and Tim (ungracefully) helped her out of the car. They stood on the side of the street by the Public Gardens.

Isabel looked at the statues that dotted the street - and saw they, too, had fallen to the corruption of the castle. Bronze castings of distinguished men were now twisted, violent - grotesque.

A tug on her arm, and her time to observe was over. Turning her attention back to Tim, she followed the group down into Arlington station. "Where're we going?" she asked curiously.

"The entrance to the castle," Tim responded. "Nobody gets in or out unless Daddy Dracula approves, and so there's only one door right now."

The green line sucked before - but now it was a disaster. The walls were twisted in on themselves, eating posters and signage alike. Ads that had once touted the next ballet or most recent food-ordering app were either beyond recognition, or changed and perverted. Instead of a beautiful woman in a pink tutu being caught by a man wearing tights - she was being devoured by a demon.

Isabel looked away, remembering her dreams. This castle consumes. As does the creature that 'owned' it. And she was on the menu.

Green line trolleys were smashed against each other, warped with the impact that had set many of them on fire. Tim helped her jump down onto the tracks, and they began walking up the tunnel towards the back bay - towards the center of the structure.

The four of them - Aria, Maverick, Tim - were joined by several vampires that were likely Maverick's personal guard. They were heavily armed, but had no body armor. Why bother? One in the front carried a large flashlight, which cast light up the warped tunnel ahead.

The longer they walked, the stranger the tunnel became. Soon, the walls were no longer cement, but raw stone. Then, statues began to appear carved into the rock - resembling demons, fallen angels, dragons. And their prey. Soon, the statues were holding large bowls, in which there was fire that burned a wicked blue color.

Then… a door. It looked remarkably similar to the one that guarded the entrance to the tomb - the Hieronymus Bosch-esque feast of the living to the damned. This was it. The entrance to the castle - the only way in, or out. Once she set foot past that door… there was no chance in hell she was getting back out.

Isabel's steps faltered as fear grabbed her whole body in one swoop. She dug in her heels, and turned to bolt - but she didn't even make it two inches before Tim had her upper arms in his grasp.

"Don't get squirrely now," he urged. "I got fifty cc's of a tranquilizer in my coat that I don't wanna use on you, alright?"

Reflexively, she wanted to cry - to beg - to plead for him to let her go. But her rational mind won out. What good would it do? Just tire her out? 'Solve the problem first, have a breakdown later,' was Adam's opinion of fear.

That didn't stop the tears from stinging her eyes, and she couldn't stop one from falling, as Tim pushed her forward. "I know, I know toots…" he coached her quietly. Talking like someone who was about to put down a dog.

As they approached the monolithic door, the gate slowly - and silently - swung open. Doors like that shouldn't move without any noise, and it made it even more disconcerting.

A blur of motion streaked by her - and she heard Tim let out a choked cough. Turning - she watched as he, wide-eyed, collapsed to his knees. Blood was pouring out of him from the - stump - that was his arm. She staggered away in surprise - and the sound of yelling and gunfire ensued. She ducked against the wall. The echos of the gunfire was earsplitting in the echoey tunnel.

Whatever had happened, it was over as quickly as it had started. Finally able to look up, it took her a long moment to process what had happened.

Maverick, Aria, Tim, and the other vampires that had come with them… were all dead. Maverick and Aria's heads were lying near their torsos, as the blood ran from their necks. Tim had almost been cut in half - his eyes staring sightless up at the ceiling of the tunnel.

A man stood amidst the blood and gore, a sword that was so thin it was nearly a rapier in his hand, dripping in blood. He pulled a cloth from his pocket, and carefully cleaned the crimson liquid off the blade.

The figure turned to look at her - and eyes that were nearly white, they were so pale, met her amber ones with a total lack of expression. Beautiful, cut features against a dated yet regal outfit. Blond hair that matched his eyes in their icy nature.

"Adrian..?"

Alucard watched as the woman pushed herself from the wall, her steps tentative as she looked, agog, at the gore around her. He did not blame her - she was unaccustomed to such violence. He was surprised, truthfully, that she did not scream.

She had changed clothes since last he saw her, three days prior - but still she dressed as a person wishing not to be seen, the hood of her coat pulled up on her head.

He expected grateful sobs, thanking him for doing a deed that he felt neither joy nor guilt over. Instead, a look of regret and sadness crossed her face as she looked down at the bodies at her feet. Curious.

"You mourn them." It was a statement, not a question.

Isabel was now looking down at the body of the young companion that had been bound to the older male vampire. She shut her eyes, took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Finally, she opened her eyes to look at him, now having chosen her words. "They weren't cruel."

Adrian nodded, once, and understood. In a world of monsters that take great pleasure in the suffering of others, she appreciated those that did not. He did not blame her. But it was what must be done.

"He has the keys to the handcuffs, if you wouldn't mind…"

Ah. Yes. Adrian stepped forward and over the corpses without a second thought, and reached down. A quick search of the body of the vampire's companion found the key.

"Thanks," she said quietly as he released her hands. She rubbed her shoulder with one hand, and couldn't take her eyes off the bodies. Isabel shook her head. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't feel bad - I know I shouldn't… But those two loved each other, and this guy… we could have been friends."

Adrian watched the woman studiously, and after a measured pause, decided to reply. "It is simpler to believe that those that we must destroy are but heartless, soulless creatures. Truthfully, they are no different from any of us - and have a capacity for love and kindness in equal to that of cruelty and hatred. It does not change what must be done."

"That's the most I've ever heard you talk, Chuckles."

Ah yes. That nickname again. Wonderful.

"How'd you get here?" she asked, finally looking up from the blood that was now pooling at their feet.

"I have been following you since you were taken from the church. I knew them to be agents of Dracula, and I knew that they would lead me to the entrance to the castle, in time."

Adrian expected frustration in that she had been used to locate the entrance. He expected frustration that he had not saved her sooner. Instead, she simply went 'huh,' and shrugged. "Makes sense."

Oddly rational for an empath, he observed.

He watched as Isabel stooped down, and gently shut the eyes of the vampire companion, and ceased his empty stare. He heard a muttered apology to the man leave her lips. As she straightened back up, she met his gaze. "I have a choice. I can turn tail and run in hopes that he doesn't find me. Or I go in there, with you or on my own, and try and find my friends."

"Neither ends well for you," he stated bluntly.

Again, rationally, she only nodded at his statement, and did not lash out at his heavy implication that she would die or come to harm either way. "What would you do?"

That caught him off guard. Adrian could not remember when he had ever been asked for his opinion. He blinked, looked down the dark tunnel that lay past the open gate of the castle, and thought.

"I would accept my death as the price I would pay to see wrongs done right." The statement, he realized, applied to him as well. Was he not the same as her, the living dead and caught in his father's web?

Thrice now, he had fought his father and been successful in stopping him - but how many more battles must he wage before he fell to his father's hand? Before Vlad no longer took pity on his son and 'let him' be the victor?

Isabel let out a long sigh from next to him, and picked her way over the bodies, hoping over the carnage as best she could. She stopped at the entrance of the gate, and looked back at him - a faint smile on her face. How she managed to find any levity in this situation was beyond him. "Let's go, Chuckles."

Isabel walked behind the blond vampire, her hands shoved in the pockets of her hoodie. The man was not a conversationalist. Any attempt on her part to strike up some kind of interaction was met with simple, single-word answers and was abruptly dead in the water.

An overwhelming sense of duty is all she caught from him. An unflappable and unwavering dedication to do something. Kill Dracula, probably. There was a great sadness behind the stoic determination. But there was also a great pride to wear his burden. An egotism to his purpose.

Man. She really found the winners, didn't she?

Isabel felt… awful about Maverick, Aria and Tim. She knew she shouldn't though. They were her captors. They were going to give her to Dracula. Stupid bleeding heart, she scolded herself silently. They weren't your friends. They could have been worse to you, fine. Could have beat you up, fine. But they weren't going to help you.

Meanwhile, they walked. The place seemed impossibly large, and she wouldn't be surprised if it was somehow bending dimensions - doors went to places that they had no business connecting. An underground tunnel to the ramparts high above the city, to another place which looked like a great hall of some kind.

The archways soared overhead higher than could be seen - disappearing into the darkness of the dimly lit chamber. Lanterns - looking like the old gas lanterns of Beacon Hill - dotted the columns as they walked up the center of the room. It seemed this place took on some of the characteristics of wherever it appeared.

But it wasn't the statues of demons and angels or the bleeding paintings that made her uneasy. It wasn't the foreboding, stark architecture that made her nervous that something was wrong. It was one thing that seemed very, very out place.

It was empty.

They hadn't seen… anything. Anybody. Nothing moved. The place looked deserted. Seeing as the streets outside were littered with the walking dead and monsters - why was it so empty inside?

They had been walking for hours - moving from space to space, each feeling distinct from the last. It was a maze, and she knew that if she were to turn around and go back, she'd never find the same place twice.

"Hey, Chuckles-" she began, finally cutting the silence.

"Stop calling me that," he responded.

"I will when you smile once," she quipped back. "Anyway. Um. Have you ever been here before?"

"Yes. But it is a cloth woven anew each time it appears. It will do me no good in navigating its halls."

"Yeah, okay, but.. Um. Where is everybody? Shouldn't this place be filled with like.. Monsters and shit?"

The silence that ensued didn't make her feel any better, at all. Finally, after what felt like a minute, he finally responded. "I do not know."

Even the building itself felt… quiet. Knowing that this was what had been inside the sword that they found with Dracula, she expected the whole place to be overwhelmingly 'loud' in her head. An overwhelming sea of blood, of hunger. But no - even then, it seemed like a low hum. A low tremor of power, but nothing more.

It all felt almost like a dream. The strange, incongruous spaces attached to each other like nonsense. The impossible architecture and floating passageways. And the feeling that the castle itself was always watching.

Conversation fell into silence again, and she went back to quietly observing the place around her. They rounded through another door. And Isabel burst out laughing.

"I fail to see why this is amusing," Adrian said from next to her. His unhappiness very apparent in his voice.

Isabel had to lean against the wall, she was laughing so hard. It was one of those kind of laughs that one does when everything is bleak and hopeless, and then shit just gets worse.

They had been walking for hours. Maybe six, seven? Who knew. Hours of marching around… and they were right back where they started.

The entrance stood in front of them. Door shut, now… but the same tunnel they began through. They had walked in a giant circle. No, more likely, this place had walked them in a giant circle.

Isabel walked over to a stone outcropping and sat down, leaning against the wall with a small puff of air. Her feet were killing her, and she was happy to get the chance to sit down.

Adrian was glaring at the gate they had stepped through to enter the castle like somehow the door was at fault.

"Okay, so… whatever is happening, it's stalling for time," she tried to piece the puzzle together. "It's walked us around in a circle - which is great, I mean, clearly I needed the exercise," she grumbled. "And nobody, monsters or otherwise, have shown up."

Adrian stood silently, still glaring at the door.

"You said you've been here before. So it's safe to say that 'the man in charge' knows who you are?"

"Yes."

"Are you a real threat to him?"

"Yes."

"And does he have any reason to tell his creatures not to try and kill you?"

"... No."

"Then I'm the reason," she concluded. "Dracula's told me that he wants me to suffer… but was concerned that Maverick - the vampire you killed earlier today - was going to hurt me. So he doesn't want anybody to do the deed but himself."

"So why not come for you?" Adrian asked, finally turning from the gate to look at her.

"I think he's toying with me," she observed, looking off down the tunnel, not liking the realization. "He wants to hunt me. Wants me to run from him. He can't do that with you here - and probably is trying to figure out a way to split us up."

Silence was her response. He simply stared at her. She couldn't read any emotion off of him at all. "Chuckles?"

"Stop calling me that."

"Smile once and I will. So far it's the only thing that gets a rise out of you," Isabel folded her arms across her chest. "As far as I can tell, you come in two modes. 'Nothing' and 'annoyed.'"

"I fail to see what this has to do with our situation."

"It doesn't. Not in the slightest," Isabel stood up and winced as her tortured feet were put to task again. "I guess I refuse to die on the inside just because I'm about to be dead on the outside." Isabel turned and started to walk again. She wondered if the path they would take would be the same, or if the series of doors and hallways would lead them down some other path.

Isabel glanced behind him to see if he was following her, but he wasn't. He was just standing there, watching her. "Are you coming?"

"No."

Isabel stopped, and turned. "Look, I'm sorry for calling you-"

"You are correct. This place will not let either of us progress while we are together. So we must split." He walked up to her then, and reached into his coat - and produced a dagger, handing it to her hilt-first.

She took it, and looked down at it, shocked. "You're kidding me."

"Use it to defend yourself, or end your own life if you must. It is blessed, and will do great harm to the things that dwell here," he said, matter-of-factly. Like the worst kind of doctor telling her she was dying of cancer.

He turned from her, and began walking the other way from her. "You're going to leave me on my own?! Here?!"

"The monsters will not harm you," he pointed out as he opened the door to go back into the castle the way they had just come.

"What about- you can't be serious - you're really-" she stammered.

"If I find your friends," he said quietly as he looked over her shoulder. "I will do what I can to save them or end their suffering."

And with that, he shut the door, and he was gone.

Isabel swallowed hard - trying to think. She walked back to the stone she was sitting on before, and flopped back down. Looking at the dagger in her hand, she thought long and hard about just stabbing herself with it now. Isabel was as good as dead, anyway.

But Adam. Eric. She had to do anything she could to save them… even if she was now alone. She punched herself in the thigh, hard, and let the pain from the blow push the emotional pain from her mind. "Fine. Sure. Fuck it. Why not," she exclaimed to herself.

Standing up, she looked at the door that Adrian had gone through - she knew if she opened that door… there was little chance she'd wind up in the same place the vampire had gone. The castle had what it wanted - they were split up.

Turning the other way, she walked down the hallway, her hands stuffed in her hoodie pockets. Without any other option, she just… walked.

God, walking around by yourself was boring. The sites were beautiful, in a horrible, twisted kind of way - but still, there was no one around. She had been walking for - if her phone was right - three more hours since Adrian had ditched her. Three more hours of incessant walking and silence.

She ran her hand along the hilt of the dagger she tucked into her belt loop - and debated again just stabbing herself in the throat with it. But she had to help Eric and Adam - even if it was very likely too late, she had to try.

Isabel began to hum to herself as she walked - anything to fill the deafening quiet. Another turn, another door, and she pulled up short. She was in a room that she could only describe as a… statue gallery. Marble carved images of gods, demons, and angels lined the walls. Each one holding a bronze weapon of some kind. Each one towering over her on their pedestals, cast in a stark light by the blazing fires around them. Isabel felt very… small… in their presence.

Isabel walked past them, slowly - not liking this one bit. Statues always kind of creeped her out, and now it seemed like these were designed to be creepy. Isabel kept turning her head to look behind her - fully expecting the statues to have moved. Luckily, they seemed content to stay put.

Didn't mean she trusted them.

Finally reaching the end of the corridor, her hand outstretched for the doorknob, she heard a noise. Like the rustle of fabric. Shit- she swore in her head, and didn't turn around. Not yet. Turning around would make the danger real. Turning around would make whatever it was behind her a tangible threat. For this moment, like Schrodinger's cat, there was both something there, and nothing. Looking would solidify the fact.

Isabel cursed herself in her head for wanting the wandering to end. Seems she now had what she had asked for. Her hand still on the doorknob, she turned halfway to look.

Standing in the center of the carpeted hallway - looking like a black blob of ink against the marble walls and statuary… was Him. The vampire. The monster. Red eyes, glittering in the darkness, bored into her.

"Hello, my pet…"

Isabel almost melted in a puddle of goo, right there. The fear that gripped her was overwhelming, and she threw open the door and bolted from where she stood. She heard his laughter from behind her.

She barely paid attention to the corridors she was running through - contrasting flashes of blues, golds, crimsons, black… didn't matter. He let her run. She knew it was pointless - she was trapped in a maze of his design, of his ownership.

Bursting through another door, she found herself on a rampart that overlooked the center of the castle. The cold air against her face was a relief, and she was gasping for air into her burning lungs. She wasn't a trained runner, and she had already been exhausted. She leaned a hand on the stone wall, and half-doubled over, breathing hard enough that she saw spots in her vision.

"Are we quite done?"

Isabel straightened up and whirled around, and found him standing behind her, looking as though nothing had happened. Pointing out quite easily that the running… had done no good whatsoever.

Dracula took a step towards her - and she stook a step back. That made him smile, his lips turning into a cruel upturn. "Ever defiant, you are…"

The vampire was no longer a corpse - he looked fully mended. His skin, while pale, was no longer sunken into bone. His long black hair was tied at the base of his neck, and his clothes were reminiscent of that which she first saw him wearing - a dated, if well tailored suit.

"My friends-"

"You had a deal to spare their lives which I agreed to fulfill. You opted to go another way. Did you forget?" he said, watching her movements like a lion on the hunt. He took a step forward again, and she another one back, trying to keep distance between them. "You came here to… what… save them?" he sneered, mocking her. "Foolish girl."

"Are my friends okay?"

"I think I would rather not say just yet," he replied with a slight tilt to his head, watching her as if to memorize every flicker of movement.

"I had to try," she muttered, feeling the weight of the futility of it.

"I am grateful for your kind heart, do not mistake me… How else would we now be as we are, wrapped up in this wonderful game?" He reached out to touch her, but stopped himself, and grinned wickedly. "I wonder… in this waking world, if I can yet place a hand upon you without feeling your wrath?"

"Let's not find out," she took another step back.

"Where would the fun in that be, I wonder?" He stepped towards her again - this time quickly closing the distance between them. One of his hands snapped around to the back of her neck, holding her through the hoodie.

Isabel thrashed, and kicked at him as hard as she could. He dodged, but his grip on her loosened just long enough that she could slip out of the hoodie and away from him, staggering away from him as fast as she could.

Unfortunately she forgot that she was on a stone wall. A stone wall with crenelations that were at knee-height. Her foot met the lip of the stone, and her momentum shifted dangerously. She heard someone yell 'no-' and she wasn't sure who it was. Him, or her.

Before she could really register what was happening, she stumbled, fell backwards… and kept falling. She watched with a scream as the wall flew up and away from her as she plummeted from the rampart.