The Kingdom Of Britannia, England
January 10th, 1477
Our story begins once upon a time, long long ago. The raven touched onto the cold snowy ground. Feasting on the carcass of a dead rat. Cold. Cold as the snow it was buried in. But the black scavenger paid no mind.
The night was dark and still. All was quiet as the raven feasted.
And then…a rumble.
The ground began to shake. With a mad caw, the raven flew away as the puddle of blood left behind began to ripple.
Until finally, the vermin's corpse was crushed under the hoof of a charging horse.
The Romanian army roared as they charged towards the kingdom. The knights were already rushing to defend their land.
But they knew. Their king knew. Who the invading force was. And what bloodthirsty monster was leading them.
Vlad Tepes III of Wallachia. Son of the Dragon. Conqueror, warlord, general, king, and even a power-hungry tyrant. Feared across all of Europe and said to be the Devil himself. And they called him Vlad The Impaler…for a reason.
None survived an attack from him. He would leave a battlefield with the bodies of his enemies on spears. This was the man who single-handedly massacred THOUSANDS of Turks. None knew how he did it. Ferocity? Dark magic? Or was it something more?
No land he set his eyes on survived without fall. His men either fought to either change all that, or to take as many Romanians with them before their inevitable end.
No one would be spared. No men, no women, not even children. Vlad was many things. Ruthless didn't even BEGIN to describe him. He would tear kingdoms down and rebuild them as his own. Expanding his empire. Much like all those who had come before. And possibly, all those who followed.
King Arthur of York had given his orders. But he had foreseen the future. Eventually, like all kingdoms before and after, this one would fall as well. Perhaps tonight…was that night.
The moment the gates were destroyed, the carnage began. Trebuchets launched balls of flame and arrows blacked the dark skies even more. With only the full moon as the surviving witness.
The ghostly white snow-covered ground soon became drenched with blood. The Romanians fought ferociously against the defending knights. Some were impaled, others decapitated, and others even burned alive. Not even the war horses were spared.
The villages were set on fire. A gruesome sight. No doubt that Lord Worcestor was down there fighting as well. He WAS the kingdom executioner, so he was brutish and skilled when it came to slaying. Yet even so…Vlad made even HIM seem like a page.
He heard the yells and cries of both armies raging below. His men were fulfilling their oath: They were giving their lives for their kingdom and their leader. Defending the walls and holding the line no matter the odds.
Besides…where else could they retreat to? This was their last stand.
That's when he noticed it. Vlad himself, tearing through the men like the dragon that could not be slain. He was headed straight for this castle. No knights, no archers, not even the mages were enough.
Arthur knew. That he may not survive the fight to come. But he had to try.
Clad in his armor, he made his way to the throne room. On those walls, he saw two portraits. One was of his father Robert, who had thrown the kingdom into darkness with his coup, the picture instead portraying him as the man he used to be before. Only by Arthur's hand was he able to defeat Robert and lock him in the dungeon. But knowing Vlad, not even Robert would survive.
The second was of two youths and an elder. Morgred, his uncle's advisor. And a descendant of Merlin, the greatest mage the world had ever known. Much like how Arthur himself carried within him the blood of the Camelot king he was named after. Thankfully, he wasn't TOO old.
The youths, however, were more connected to him. His cousins, Susannah and Edward. They were to be the rightful heirs of the throne. Yet their minds and souls belong elsewhere. Another place. Another time.
Thus, as their elder, Arthur took it upon himself to hold the crown upon his head in their stead. And he would rest knowing that he and his childhood friend Robyn would see them again. In another life.
Calling upon his Holy Magic on his throne, Arthur readied his legendary blade. One wielded by the Arthur that came before. The King's Blade and the Sword in the Stone itself. Excalibur.
The doors swung open with the force of a mighty kick. There, clad in his blackened armor, Vlad entered with his Killij in hand.
"Your kingdom is already dead, Brittanian." He declared. "Your prisoners have been executed. Your castle is being sieged. Your villages burn. And even now, your men fall more and more. The bodies pile and grow."
"You are still a mortal man." Arthur says. "Filled with both good and evil. It is not too late to stop this needless bloodshed."
Vlad only laughed. "Do you know who I am?"
"Vlad Dracula Tepes The Third. Son of the Dragon, Vlad Dracul. The Impaler. You are all I am not…and yet, we are the same."
"How so?"
"Like you, I was a killer. Like you, I shed the blood of many. The difference being…it was not of my will and desire. I was merely a weapon. A hunter. Nothing more…than a monster."
"Ha! Aren't we all? There is a fine thin line between the concepts of which you speak of. But sometimes, that line can be cut like a rope."
"Even as a king, your pride and ego blinds you. Why do you seek to bring about the end of us all?"
"Why?" Vlad chuckled. "That's simple, your Majesty. The race of man is flawed. In our never ending quest for survival, we yearn for all that makes us strong. Power, dominance, the willpower to stand at the top of all else and destroy all the weak that holds us back! In this world, only the mightiest may live! Aren't we all just gladiators in God's arena?"
"And you seek to change that?"
"Even as kings, men can only do so much. I seek to bring about a new age, one where there truly IS a God among us! One that does not hide or watch from the heavens above! One that rules and controls how the future is shaped for all eternity! I shall bring about the next step of man's journey and change! We will become MORE than just men! We will shed all weaknesses! We shall be stronger, faster, smarter, and SO much more! We will ALL be not just men, but KINGS! All under the rule of one TRUE god! And I shall be that god!"
Arthur only sighed.
"I look upon you…and I see a dark reflection. Both of my father…and what I could've become if I continued to follow in his shadow. I too once had such selfless arrogance. The war to take back this kingdom made me realize what it TRULY means to be a ruler. But no good king rules forever. Not even you."
"What is this nonsense? Are you slowly succumbing to madness due to the pressure of my imminent victory?"
"I have foreseen the future. This will not be the last time we face such darkness. Such eras will come with even FURTHER darkness. Wars will be waged across the centuries to come. And thus, many lives will either be lost or defined."
"Ha! I need no false prophet to spill such ignorant lies! I have already envisioned such a future! My very own empire, ruling for all eternity, with me as its undying king! You said that no good king rules forever. But I am no good king! I am the darkness incarnate! I am the final nightmare before death claims your soul! I am the Devil summoned from the depths of Hell! To think that you would even TRY to fight for your life before I claim it is FOOLISH! You must have an ego that makes even MINE look like a pebble!"
"I speak not from mind, but from heart and soul. I have always known that the end of this era was inevitable."
"So you plan to take ME with you into the hands of death?! Is THAT why you choose to fight?! HA! How pitiful!"
"Do I look like the kind of king that would LIE to my people? We will BOTH die this day, Tepes. That I assure you."
"Then I grow bored with words! Come then, let this be a mighty clash between kings! Try and kill me, IF you can! Although I highly doubt that this will be even CLOSE to a trial by combat!"
Arthur rose and readied his blade. Excalibur began glowing with a golden light.
"Oh? So you're one of those magical kings? I stand corrected…"
Vlad only smirked as his own blade began shining a dark shade of red.
"This might prove a worthy challenge after all."
He charged with a mighty yell, and the two kings met fiercely with an explosive clash between blades!
The swords locked, with Arthur managing to kick Vlad away. So…THIS was how the Impaler became so feared. He had been a practitioner in dark magic.
No…it was his weapon. Something ENCHANTED with dark magic. No wonder it could so easily survive a blow from Excalibur. This must be a POWERFUL weapon. It seemed to be emitting a dark red aura along with the glow, as if the sword itself was ablaze with ghostly fire.
"Now…how do you wish to die? Blooddrinker here getting drenched in your blood? Or impaled like so many before you?!"
"Your reputation precedes you." Arthur notes. "We've only just BEGUN to fight, and you already fight like a demon…let alone a dragon."
"Hahahahaha! You underestimate my power! Prepare to fall!"
The kings traded blows again and again. Arthur soon realized that this was NOTHING like his duel with his father. The midnight hour was only just minutes away from beginning. And in this duel between God and the Devil, it was hard to determine who would win.
It was as if Vlad thrived in the darkness. A monster in the form of a man. He tried a decapitation, swinging for the neck. Arthur blocked the blow by summoning his shield, Pridwen. Vlad only laughed, attacking with sheer brute force and atrocity. As if he was possessed and aggressive. No wonder thousands of Turks, Bulgarians, and even SAXONS feared his name.
"Ha! No shield can protect you now!"
He struck again and again at Pridwen, and after a flurry of blows, the shield shattered!
So…this was it, wasn't it? It really was how the story ended…
Still, Arthur did not back down. Not for a single second did he falter. He matched Vlad as hard as he could, trying to at least tire the mad dark king out. But he was fighting dirty.
Whatever magic empowered Blooddrinker was far more powerful than the magic within Excalibur. Clearly the king would not survive.
Vlad sidestepped to dodge a heavy downwards slash of Excalibur, then countered with a knee to the face, knocking Arthur onto the ground. Arthur rolled to dodge a stomp, and again to dodge a blade thrust. Thanks to the force, Vlad was left wide open as he tried to pry the sword out. Arthur did a handspring back up and delivered a mighty punch before retrieving his sword.
Vlad only roared and charged with a few wild and ferocious swings, with Arthur dodging, sweeping the legs, and kicking him back. Vlad recovered from the tumble and yanked his sword from the ground.
He charged, and blades clashed yet again. Armed or disarmed, Vlad was a force to be reckoned with. He even broke another clash with a headbutt! Given his sword as a little smaller, it allowed him to be more agile and swift. Of course, the magic within Excalibur allowed the worthy wielder to lift it as lightly as a feather-.
Worthy? Of course…
He tossed his sword. Seeing an opportunity, Vlad grinned and tried grabbing the weapon, hoping to expose the king's flaw…
Only for Excalibur to crash down like a boulder!
"W-WHAT?!"
He struggled to lift the weapon. Still, no matter what, it didn't budge.
An armored boot to the face knocked Vlad away, and Arthur rearmed himself.
"Stand and fight." He ordered Vlad, tossing him Blooddrinker. "I won't stoop so low as to end a helpless foe."
"Heh...your repeated actions of showing mercy are going to get you killed. Allow me to PROVE it!"
Then perhaps against a conqueror and killer of hundreds, let alone thousands, it was time to cease holding back.
Yet Vlad was far more smarter and cunning than he seemed. He always targeted the weakest parts of the armor, or areas the armor didn't cover. Arthur could hear parts of the castle crumble, as others began being set on fire.
He had no idea how many men were dead. Was he the last one left?
Vlad seemed to have lost himself. In the bloodlust, as he always had. He was becoming unpredictable. In his quest to protect his home and his people, Vlad desired power. What he got was too MUCH power. And he was addicted to it. Always craving more.
It was always haunted. How power could make even the greatest of heroes fall.
The hesitation due to being lost in the mind nearly cost Arthur. He remained focused in the fight, yet Vlad never seemed to tire. After managing to strike a powerful blow to stun the Tyrant of Transylvania (one title he assumed after conquering Transylvania), Arthur thrusted Excalibur to try and pierce Vlad's heart.
Yet Vlad was relentless. In a swift, fast, and hard heavy motion, he managed to knock Excalibur from Arthur's grip with the full power of the dark magic within his sword!
And in another split-second, Arthur felt an intense pain erupt and explode in his chest.
Looking downwards, Arthur noticed the sword buried deep through his heart. Vlad only chuckled.
"Long live…the king."
He ripped the sword out, making Arthur stagger back. He fell to his knees, coughing up blood…before falling to the ground.
Vlad only laughed in triumph before walking away.
"Yet another kingdom falls to the Son of the Dragon! Soon the whole world will fear the name Vlad the Impaler! For when that day comes, I shall rule all!"
He believed him to be dead. Yet still…Arthur had a slight slimmer of hope.
The pain DID sting, yes. But in time, it would heal. His curse allowed him to remain immortal for all time. Not even time would be enough to bury him. As for Excalibur? Well, he could always use his magic to repair it so that it was never even broken…
This day, he WOULD be lost to the pages of history. That, he knew. But they would still be waiting for him. In the centuries far into the future.
THAT was why he became king. So they could remain free to choose their own paths…
He pretended to let the nothingness take hold, closing his eyes. He was unsure of what would happen next…but he would survive as a ghost throughout time. Always watching and never interfering.
His days of being kind were over. But his days of being a hero…had only just begun.
…
"Their king is dead!" Vlad announced to his men as they stormed the castle. "This kingdom is ours! Seize the spoils of war! I myself will finish off any survivors."
They rushed off to get their hands on whatever they could find. This was the second best part about a raid. After the fight, of course.
There was clearly no one left in the kingdom village. His men made sure of that. The dungeon, perhaps? Perhaps he could put the prisoners out of their misery. They would almost WISH they were in Terror Tower.
Vlad headed down to the dungeon. It was dark and damp. A real shithole. There weren't many down here. If any at all. He held Blooddrinker high, the red glow illuminating the darkness.
Finally, he smelled something. More blood. Of course. Someone down here suffered from getting hit by debris from the attack.
He followed the scent until he came across a single cell. Inside was a broken man. With a smirk, he shattered the bars with his blade. Yet the man made no move to run or escape. Vlad did NOT come to free him.
"Why the silence?" He asked. "Do you not wish to beg for your life?"
"Before me stands the Impaler himself." The man only muttered. "I am already dead."
"Hmph. You have quite a sharp tongue." He thought he was beginning to remember this man. "You must be the former king. Robert."
"From one fallen king to another."
He had heard the stories. Killing his brother to take the throne, the rest being nothing but a practice of fiction. A mere fairy tale.
"You're even more pathetic than your son. Soon, you will join him."
"How far?"
That question intrigued him. Robert only bought himself a few more moments to live.
"How far are you willing to go to get all the power you could ever desire?"
"As long as I remain strong, my people need NOTHING to fear."
"They fear YOU, don't they? They fear what you've become."
"Surely you understand. The world can be dark and cruel. The only way to survive is to be an even MONSTROUS cruelty right back to it. And I would rather go to Hell than end up in a backwater cesspool such as this dungeon."
"It's always worth the risk to you, isn't it?" Robert asked. "These are not God's words but my own: Your very fate may be sealed depending on your actions. Turn back and walk away NOW. Before it's too late."
"Walk away? Walk AWAY?!" Vlad laughed. "Who do you think I am?! Vlad the Impaler is a CONQUEROR, not a COWARD!"
And with that, he struck Robert down with a single slash.
There seemed to be no one else down here. Vlad only sneered at this.
And then…the chanting, the distant chanting, began.
Vlad whipped around, holding his glowing sword aloft. No one. Yet the eerie chants continued to whisper.
"Show yourselves!" He roared.
The chanting…it seemed to be spoken by a tongue that was not man's. Was only HE hearing it? He felt himself going mad just trying to comprehend it.
The walls. It…it was coming…from the walls.
Lord…Impaler…
The dark voice seemed to speak to him. Echo to him.
Men do not fear swords. They fear…monsters.
"Who ARE you?" Vlad only asked, examining the walls. "Are you God?"
The voice in his head chuckled.
Not God. Not the Devil either. I know that you put thousands to the stake and felt nothing. I know your desperation to remain at the pinnacle of your kind. I know your desire to make the world your own. To rule. Not as a hero. Not as a king. But as a god.
"Are you saying you can help me?"
Robert hid a secret from you. But no secret can be hidden forever. Not even…from behind these walls…
"What's behind them?"
He pressed a hand to one of the many stone slabs…and a loud CLICK banged through the room. And then…with an ancient groan, the walls began to open.
Power.
He paused. "Continue…"
Power beyond your feeble imagination. Power that will make you as strong as a hundred men. Power that will grant you the speed of a falling star. Power that shall give you dominion over the night and darkness, and all the creatures that thrive in it. Power to see and hear through their senses. And even heal grievous wounds. There is no price you would not pay, Tepes. Not one.
"Power…to become God?"
Power…to become the Ultimate God…
The shock soon turned into a smirk. Then a grin. Finally, He had found what he had always desired.
Vlad began to step into the tunnel. He lit the way with his sword. Eventually, the darkness gave way, yet consumed even more. The tunnel seemed to stretch forever. As if he was in a dragon's belly.
Finally, the chanting stopped. And the voice left. Vlad emerged to find himself in a large chamber. Filled with mysterious artifacts, writings, and even drawings.
An occult. The Kingdom of Britannia had a cult. And even more so…they seemed to feast upon the blood of their enemies. There was even a strange and odd red stone…
He picked up a nearby book. Dust has covered it for centuries. Brushing it off, Vlad saw the green G on the front begin to glow. Annoyed, he tossed it aside. He was here for power, not knowledge.
And then…he saw it. A small black cup. With a red liquid inside. And it was then he realized what this was.
The Holy Grail. The blood of Jesus Christ himself. Whoever drank from it would gain eternal life. And someone with eternal life…could rule as an eternal god over the world.
Vlad only chuckled. And then, he laughed.
"It is as if you WANTED this to happen, God!" He declared. "To have all that happen play out the way they should have! You are indeed grateful, passing the torch down unto me! First I drink the blood of my enemies! Now, I drink the blood of your son! The fair man who equals even YOU as a god! And now…this shall be a day long remembered! Light against dark, hope against despair, that cycle finally comes to an end! As does the book on this era close!"
He grabbed the black cup with the blood inside. And Vlad held it high, under the full moonlight.
"To a new world…" He toasted. "Of Gods And Monsters!"
Without hesitation, he drank. Every last sip of that godly blood tasted so good. More than even the finest drinks and wine.
And then…that's when it happened.
BONG!
By the time the old church bells began to ring…Vlad felt his heart pulse. He ended up shattering the Grail and screamed in pain as he clutched his heart, falling to his knees.
BONG!
He was burning up! He didn't understand…how was he burning up?!
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
BONG!
Vlad clutched his head. His heart began hammering. He tried crying out for help, but the pain was just too unbearable. He felt like he was going to vomit!
Fear…is this what fear felt like?! The great Vlad the Impaler…afraid?!
BONG!
He felt bones crack. And a sharp pain in his neck. Vlad still felt himself screaming.
BONG!
His own face felt like a mask that was suffocating him. He stumbled across the room, unable to escape the light of the full moon shining in. Unseen by him, his reflection in an old mirror began to fade like a ghost.
BONG!
He felt his fingernails grow and sharpen. Into deadly claws…
BONG!
His senses began to become overloaded. He could HEAR those bells now. And they HURT!
BONG!
The skin on his body began to peel and fall off like flaky ashes. Leaving only pale skin white as bone remaining.
BONG!
His ears began to shift and morph. In a matter of moments, they shifted into those of the Devil's!
BONG!
His screams became more and more inhuman. And he began to lose himself. The shadows even tried to consume him…
BONG!
His teeth…his teeth were ACHING! He felt his pointed canine teeth grow larger and longer. And his tongue began to morph into a long and sickening black!
BONG!
Finally…Vlad felt nothing. All he heard as all went black, as his mind ceased to function, was an unholy scream, that like a bat, from the Devil himself. Strangely, he felt nothing. No fear. No terror. No horror.
Now…all he felt was…hunger…
…
The fires had all died down. And the men had just finished off the priest who rang the church bell. Not even for a second did they believe his lies of "trying to warn them of evil".
They all regrouped just outside the kingdom. And they had managed to scavenge a lot of loot.
"Look at all the gold!" One cried, dumping the coins in a barrel. "The treasury was MASSIVE!"
"And one more to add to the collection." Another sneered, holding a red skull.
"With all these rations, we'll survive for years!" A third said, munching on some bread.
"Yeah, if you actually SAVE some for us!" The men laughed as they continued loading up. Once again, their might was undefeatable. Not a SINGLE casualty.
"Hey…" Speaking of numbers, another soldier noticed something. "Where's Lord Vlad?"
And that's when they felt a slight chill in the wind. And shadows. Shadows reaching from the walls.
And footsteps. Slow, staggering footsteps. And breathing. Cold and eerie breathing.
A figure cloaked in shadow stumbled forward as if dead. It panted heavily, staring at the soldiers with pale glowing red eyes. Yet that armor and hair…
The soldiers were in stunned silence at what was before them.
"My…My Lord?" One asked. "Are…Are you all right?"
The silence seemed to last for an eternity…
And in an instant, just like that, the figure moved so fast that by the time the soldier realized what was happening, the fangs were dug into his neck and his vision flickered into nothing but blackness…
…
Hours had passed. Six hours had passed, and there was no one that was still alive.
Blood. Blood used to be everywhere. Not just the men, but even the horses and animals too. More to the massacre of this dark day.
Within the outskirts of Britannia, the monster began drinking all that was left of a person's blood. It had already drunk all the rest, both inside and outside the kingdom. With unholy sounds of feasting, it looked up when it finished.
And what it saw…fascinated it.
A light. A strange yet odd light. Was it more coming? To feed it? It was still so hungry. And there was still some more blood just nearby, a few feet in front of it.
The hunger. The hunger. It began to consume it. It staggered forward toward the blood puddle, focused only on it and nothing more.
It reached out. Wanting to get closer. As the hand reached the blood, the strange light pushed the blackness back…
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
The demonic scream from the creature echoed as it pulled its hand back. It hurt. Hurt bad. But how?
Light was dangerous. It had to hide. But…the blood…so tasty…
But danger. But hunger. But danger. But hunger. But danger. But hunger. But danger. But hunger.
Too much…so hungry. Drink…it needed to drink…
It felt like it was burning alive from the thirst. It forced itself to go to the blood, not wanting to let the cursed light take what was precious to it.
It screamed. It screamed as the light burned it alive. The shadows ran away even more, the creature shielding itself from that damn blinding and burning light.
It fell to its knees. Couldn't feel them. The creature crawled to the blood, letting out one final scream of pain and sorrow as the arm turned to bone, and bone to dust.
The screams echoed in the wind. And when the sun rose, all that was left of the creature was…nothing. Nothing but dust and ash scattered in the morning's cold and snowy winter wind.
This may seem like the end. But you see, dear reader…this is only the beginning (This IS still the prologue, after all). But I wasn't kidding when I said that someone died.
On that dark night, Vlad Dracula Tepes the Third, Lord Impaler and Son of the Dragon, did indeed die. And on that night…evil was born…