After Mina left, Dracula approached her with a slight smile and she felt her body stiffen. Agatha wanted to run, or fight, but it would be pointless. She accepted that much.

"Agatha Van Helsing. I'm going to make you last," he said as he moved closer. His voice was deep and rough, but he spoke softly to her.

She pulled the clothing from her shoulder to expose her skin to him, determined to hold her ground and get this over with. At least Mina was safe. Agatha could only hope this would be over with quickly.

The Count looked over her exposed flesh and sighed as he reached out to touch her. His fingers brushed her skin softly at first, then more firmly as he made his way from her collarbone to her neck with an urgency that reflected his own emotions.

Agatha thought his hunger, plastered all over his face, was indeed a strange and interesting thing to watch.

Dracula's eyes turned to look at her own, and he spoke again.

"You'll be part of me. You'll travel to the new world in my veins," he promised her. Agatha would hear no more of it.

"Come boy. Suckle."

A sharp gasp escaped her when she felt Dracula bite into her neck. Though she knew exactly what was coming, there was still the shock and pain that rose from the penetration. It was more than painful; it was alarming. The feeling of a losing all control; of being under the power of a monster, and shutting down completely.

Those teeth. They had her blood on them now. She felt the liquid trickle down her skin, making her shudder. Somehow in the midst of this she had dropped her knife.

Agatha tried to reach out to grab him, push him–she wasn't sure why or how that would even help. She was doomed, she knew it. But it was more of a matter of proving she could at least move. She tried but she could barely lift her hands.

The Count seemed to take notice of the nun's albeit small efforts of resistance. With a brief movement of his jaws, his fangs sunk in deeper. Agatha winced, knowing now he had been holding back.

She struggled to keep her eyes open and tried to focus on steadily breathing. The warmth of Dracula's lips on her as he drunk her in more greedily provided a strange relief of sorts. She wished to stay conscious for as long as possible, but his hands caressed her back lightly as he held her, as if soothing her into the idea of the darkness that awaited her. Agatha arched into him slightly, instinctively seeking the comfort, and she felt her arms grow as heavy as her eyelids felt. Her panic began to diminish, a calmness overtaking her senses.

Her knees weakened and she struggled to even stand. She knew she would sink into this darkness soon. When her body began to drift away from her consciousness, heavy and unresponsive to her, Dracula's hands tightened around her to keep her up and hold her in place. Only her mind was active now, Agatha could feel her own heart beating in her chest. There it was again. Fear. Horror. But she couldn't win. She was overcome with it. The poison of him.

She felt her mind grow dim, like a fire put out. And for a moment Agatha forgot what was even happening.

Agatha looked at the stone wall across her onto some of the candlelight. It was beautiful, the way the flames created shadows. Light and shadow. Interesting. Some intrusive thought crossed her mind, the idea of lighting this whole place on fire with her and this vampire in it. If only she could separate the soul from the body.

What time was it? It was late. She should probably get some sleep after this. Maybe after some reading, or after a game of chess with one of her Sisters or Mina, even. That would be nice. She rarely had much company to share time with. Where was Mina?

And he was hungry, wasn't he. This vampire on her neck. Maybe she would kill him in the morning. She heard Dracula against her, his gluttonous groaning vibrating through her throat at his own indulgence of blood. What a pig. Agatha smirked, a mixture of arousal and sleepiness dulling her, drifting her away into a dark sea. An ocean. That was beautiful too.

Her eyes fluttered close and there was nothing but silence. Red and black behind her eyelids. And maybe some small semblance of a flame.

Candlelight. That's what it was. Against the stone walls. Agatha opened her eyes and looked down at a table near her, with a chess board on it. A game in progress, yes. Light and shadow. She tilted her head in whimsical amusement.

Agatha felt strange, like something was missing. A piece of a puzzle. Maybe she was thinking too much and needed to rest. But she felt oddly elated and this was just what she needed. A game.