He feeds on fear
He feeds on pain
When the sun has finally set and the moon has risen in the sky - though not at all visible - all life was back in downtown Budapest. It wasn't very obvious, though, since a strange and sinister fog had suddenly appeared with the setting sun. No rain was apparent, no wind neither. Only this quite worrying haze causing the usual pedestrians and the buildings to be hardly perceptible.
Everything was silent in the streets, and not even the footsteps of the walkers were clear. In fact, this night, more than any other night, wasn't the place where one would like to find themselves. And that fog… it wasn't foreseeing anything good. It was as if something was about to happen. Something unusual, something dangerous.
He rules again
Of course, standard human beings couldn't perceive that, however at least two of them could. The doors of one of the many apartment buildings located on the main street opened dryly as Selene and Michael Corvin stepped through. They were finally ready to operate their plan and try to leave town, after another sleepless night.
Sleepless, because it has been. Michael simply couldn't close his eyes, since these strange visions were always taking shape in his mind. Always the same: the memories of Lucian. And they seemed so real. Once he had found himself in the subway station, another time he was in the streets, and then a bit later he was back in the sewers. And then he woke up, drained in his own sweat. It was happening so often that Michael was getting used to it. And so he decided to stay awake, which would be easier.
As for Selene - oh, poor Selene - she had slumbered, but had given up on sleeping, fearing that she would never wake up again. Yet again, another nightmare. A nightmare that seemed so authentic. It had begun and had ended in the exact same way as the one of the previous night; only this one was even more frightful, more real.
It was Michael who had convinced Selene to try to stay awake, and so they have spent the rest of the morning in Michael's apartment, silence towering over the place. And as soon as the sun had set, they were ready to leave the country forever.
If for all he cares
He will guide their fates again
In the mansion of Ordoghaz, in a sumptuous bedroom of the Northern wing of the house, Anyanka was standing in front of a big mirror, staring blankly at her own pale reflection. Still, she hadn't overcome her inner pain and sorrow. Still, she couldn't come to believe that Viktor was dead, he who had been the only one who'd truly loved her and whom she had loved the most, all the way through her entire life of immortality.
Our light in the darkness
Is too small to see
She had seen the crime scene, though, through her very own eyes. And she had sworn to herself that Selene would grievously pay with her life. After tonight's funeral reception, she would go hunt for her foe, and she would even go alone if she has to.
The funeral - she thought of it as some kind of Apocalypse. Making her way towards the Crypt would be exactly like being on her way to Hell.
Anyanka swallowed to hold back threatening tears. "Don't ever let show any emotion such as pain or sorrow to anyone," Viktor had once told her. "It is nothing more than a sign of someone who is frail and vulnerable." And he had softly added after a short pause, "Which you are not."
"Never would I, my Lord. Never," she had told him. And so he had smiled at her and said, "Excellent."
And never had she exhibited her sadness since he had told her not to, not even to herself, for she had absolutely no reason to do so. Until now. She closed her eyes to try to forget about the past.
It's at this moment that some kind of visions invaded her mind, but something about these visions seemed so strange. They seemed… so real.
Images of the battle opposing Viktor and the hybrid, Selene slicing Viktor's head in two, and finally, images of Anya herself, cutting her palm open with her dagger and pouring blood onto her mentor's grave. These visions kept mixing up in her head, so fast and so unclear that Anya couldn't tell them apart.
All of a sudden, everything stopped as her conscience identified a steady image of a very dreadful place: the sewers. Everything was dark and silence, until when some jumbled voices started to plague her mind. The voices were becoming louder and louder and were getting deeper and deeper inside her head.
It's at this very moment that Anya felt cold hands grabbing her by each arm. She suddenly opened her eyes and turned around, but still found herself in her bedroom. She looked around, but there was no one. "What in the world was that all about?" she thought incredulously. She could swear there has actually been someone behind her, she could feel this presence. It seemed so real.
Bringing her hand to her head, she decided to go downstairs to the training room and forget about what she had just experienced. She dryly opened the door of her bedroom and left, disheartened.
There's always a sparkle of hope
If you just believe
The atmosphere of the sewers beneath the city's streets was as usual cold and damp. The tunnels were plunged into a complete silence; even the drips of dirty water that were usually dropping from the ceiling seemed to fear making the slightest sound. Indeed, fear was reigning on the entire place, as well as this incredibly strange feeling of worry.
The Death Dealers squad that was striding throughout the tunnels could feel this worry plaguing the Underworld. Mason was at the head of a troop of Death Dealers on their duty to bring back Viktor's body to the Ordoghaz for the funeral reception. They kept sauntering around, looking for the cadaver of their former master.
It's in a wide part of the sewers, where a Vampire and a hybrid have once been fighting to death, that a knee-deep pond was extended throughout the whole area. An area where an abomination had been created, a Death Dealer had been betrayed, and an almighty Vampire Elder had perished.
The water pool where Viktor's body had been laying since that tragic night was partly tainted with fresh crimson blood of the fallen Elder. A strange thing is, that the water of the pond was slightly agitated. Even more perplexing… the pond was empty of all life form… dead and alive.
Further, on the cold and damp ground of stone, was laying an imposing and threatening sword, its silvery blade stained with dried blood. Viktor's sword, which had once been used by him to take thousands of lives away. Which also had been used by a Death Dealer for vengeance, and which had allowed another to understand many things she didn't know. Since it had been held by its latest possessors, it had patiently lied on the stony ground, waiting for its next usage.
And it's at this right moment that its owner took hold of it.
Raising the sword before his cold murderous eyes, Viktor lethally glared at the coagulated blood tainting the blade. His blood, which had leaked to the benefit of Selene, who herself dispatched him, her sire, only two horrid nights ago.
"In Hell, she is destined to perish," the risen Elder thought with abhorrence. Viktor glared even more to this thought and put his legendary sword away, as he left his former vault. There were serious matters to be dealt with.
He told the tale so many times
About the dream not meant to be
In a world of the free
And what better way to begin was there, other than giving Selene what she truly deserved? To Viktor's eyes, Selene was nothing more than a worthless and treacherous being who had betrayed her own kind, and as far as Viktor knew, this act was unwarrantable. Not only had she caused the abomination to be, but also had she attempted and had succeeded to slay the most powerful Vampire ever. And for this, she couldn't go back.
Above the tunnels of the filthy sewers, Selene - with Michael by her side - was walking towards where faith would guide her; unaware of the fact that her dark father had risen once again, but this time, she was the one that was intended to be harmed by him.
Very abruptly, she felt an intense pain plaguing her head and mind, as if it had been sliced apart.
He plays with your mind
Selene brought a hand to her temples as she slightly slowed her step down. Noticing the advance he had on his ally, Michael looked over his shoulder to check on her. Selene sent him a reassuring glance and speeded up as Michael followed her. Once again, Selene only thought of this sudden pain as being due to the latest events of her miserable life, as being some kind of normal state of mind.
A normal state of mind it wasn't, for Viktor's resurrection was the only reason of the ex-Death Dealer's recent emotion and mental pains. Of course, Viktor was perfectly aware of what she could feel, and now had full control of Selene's mind and thoughts, in her sleep like in her awaken state. This was actually one of the privileges the Elders were fund of: being somehow able to have a hold over the mind of the Vampires they had turned.
Then came the other young maiden Viktor had turned, a few decades before Selene's time. Anyanka - Viktor thought of her with warmth and compassion, for she was the one who had allowed him to revive again. And by the way, she was also the only Vampiress for whom he had always had this special kind of affection. Even though Viktor had always considered Selene as his daughter, Anyanka had always remained outstanding to his eyes.
Viktor put aside his cruel thoughts of Selene and sighed, thinking of Anya. "Perhaps a little talk with her could be essential," he considered thoughtfully.
But for now, he needed to dispose of some more crucial affairs: have Selene put to death, and destroy an abomination.
Our faith for future faded fast
He grows strong with their displeasure
It sets him free
Further, in the deep and dark tunnels of the deadly gutters, Mason and his fellow Death Dealers were investigating the place for hints that might lead them to their master's grave. The entire ground was bathed with mixed blood of both dead Vampires and Lycans that have been fighting two nights earlier. The squad of Dealers could distinguish some torn pieces of bodies, arms, legs of carcasses spread through the whole place, as well as some entire bodies whether infected with silver nitrate, or charred by UV rays bullets.
"Watch where you're stepping, will you," Mason instructed the four Death Dealers who were walking close behind their captain. Indeed, it would be disrespectful to accidentally step on the cadaver of one of their former acolyte.
They were suddenly distracted by a growling sound coming from behind them. Mason, followed by his comrade Dealers, turned around as a reflex, only to recognize a huge, beastly figure standing right before their eyes. The five warriors rapidly took their rifles and aimed at the Lycan towering over them, as this one started to creep out of the darkness.
Without a hesitation, Mason squeezed the trigger of his gun and shot the enemy full of silver. Despite its pain, the beast continued its way towards its preys. However, it had not made two steps that a long and sharp blade had horizontally sliced the body of the werewolf in two. The upper part of the dead animal's carcass fell to the ground as fresh Lycan blood started to flow down.
Deceiver of hearts
Deceiver of fools
He rules with fear
Mason and the other Dealers raised their eyes from their dead foe and saw a ghastly and sinister figure standing stiff in front of them. Lord Viktor, whom they have believed to be deceased, was standing right before their eyes, towering over them. The captain of the Death Dealers couldn't manage to believe that Viktor was truly there and alive. Hadn't Kahn informed him of Viktor's fall? Hadn't Selene herself dispatched him?
Deceiver of hopes
Deceiver of fools
He rules again
Mason's eyes widened as he identified what appeared to be fading gash across Viktor's cadaverous face. The bows of his fellow warriors reminded him of doing the same. "My Lord," the Death Dealer said as bowing down.
He feeds of fear, poisons the truth
To gain their faith, to lead the way
To a world of decay
Viktor sneeringly glared down upon his Death Dealers bent down before him. At first, he didn't say anything, but only made a few steps foreword as his cold vampiric eyes glowered from one Vampire to another, as if looking for someone in particular.
But Anyanka wasn't there, he figured. As far as he was concerned, Viktor knew that she wasn't to blame for that absence. He had seen the shattered expression on her beautiful face when her eyes fell upon his dead body. He had witnessed her sorrow and desolation that succeeded after this horrid night. And he knew that she was feeling numb, heartbroken at this precise moment.
At the Ordoghaz manor, a young maiden was walking down the dark corridors of the house, heading to the training room. Passing by some residents every now and then, Anyanka was staring blankly into emptiness. Her step was steady and mechanical, as if she were unstoppable. Although this was the impression she was displaying from the outside, she was interiorly petrified. Finally, she had come to believe that doing a bit of training would make her forget her pain. "Viktor always used to say that," she sighed in silence.
It's at this right, precise moment that she felt a brutal ache stinging her immortal heart.
He rules your heart
She dryly stopped walking and brought a pale hand to her chest as she started to breathe heavily. She remembered having asthma when she possessed her humanity, but rejected that possibility, since Vampires were never sick. Was that her emotional pain taking over her pride? After a short while, the pain went away. She shook her head, her long dark red hair bobbing with the movement, "Screw pride. What to be proud of when you've got nothing left." She continued her walk, heading for the training room.
All these visions were transmitted to Viktor by Anyanka herself, when she had provided him her own blood. She had voluntarily bled for him once, and Viktor knew that she would again, if it was for him.
"You may rise," the Elder said grimly. His cold eyes were set on the five of them, demanding some explanations on the Coven's whereabouts.
To Viktor's word, Mason immediately stood up, followed by his trembling fellows. "My Lord," he started. He judged necessary to inform his master on what had happened during his 'absence'. "The traitors… have escaped."
Viktor raised a suspicious eyebrow, surprised of the lack of effort and judgment of his own troops of warriors. "Really, have they?" he asked, managing his anger. "Well, I guess we'll have to find them back."
The sound of his deep ominous voice made the Death Dealers tremble. Mason nodded in a professional way, "Yes, my Lord. I'll have the troops seek for them as soon as we get to the mansion."
Viktor slightly nodded, "Good." But added skeptically after a short pause, "Anything else I shall be put aware of?"
Mason paused slightly and sighed, "Indeed, my Lord." He paused again, uncertain of how Viktor was going to take the news.
On his side, Viktor started to get impatient. "Well, then?" he asked, or more likely demanded.
Mason sighed silently and began, "Lord Marcus has been awakened. He had by the way organized a reception in remembrance of the Lady Amelia and yourself, my Lord." Mason waited patiently for his master's answer, which didn't came right away.
Instead, Viktor stared in blank, his face full of what seemed to be hatred and anger. A few seconds later, Viktor raised his murderous eyes upon his servant and asked, "And what of the Covenant?"
Again, an anxious sigh escaped Mason's throat. "Lord Marcus is up to now considered as being the last Elder standing." He discerned some kind of rage invading the Elder's pale features. Mason swallowed anxiously; Viktor demanded more.
"And also…" he began slowly, to what Viktor arched an eyebrow. "…the residents of the mansion are fully aware of the fact that Lord Marcus… will be the one reigning for the next century…" he slowed down in his speech, unhurried of hearing about Viktor's impression on this piece of news.
A short moment of total silence passed by, and contrarily to what Mason expected, Viktor didn't take the news as bad… or so it seemed. Instead, the Elder contented himself with murderously narrowing his cold eyes, "Well. Changes are to be made." With this, Viktor turned around and lead the walk towards the exit.
He'd sell your soul to the grave
Without a hesitation to make
He belongs to the dark
For a short moment, the Death Dealers stared at him surprisingly as shooting some curious glimpses at each other, until Mason opened the walk and followed his dark master. The other Dealers had no choice but to follow him through the tunnels.
Deceiver of hearts
Deceiver of fools
He rules with fear
Roaming through the dark streets of the city, Selene and Michael Corvin were still uncertain and perhaps didn't even have a clue of where to go. In fact, Michael was now the one leading the walk, since Selene had felt some incredulous soreness hitting her from time to time. Of course, Michael started to doubt her state of healthiness, since she had often slowed down, to finally permit Michael to lead their walk himself.
From time to time, Michael was shooting her some quick glimpses, asking if she was feeling all right, but had ceased asking about it when Selene herself had reassure him, in her own approach, that all was fine. "I'm alright, Michael. Just please stop asking about me and keep walking. We don't have all night," she had told him. From this, Michael realized that he was worrying for absolutely nothing… or so he thought.
As for Selene, she knew that these sudden aches were abnormal. First these terrible nightmares that in fact seemed so much like reality, then this awful stinging pain striking her from time to time. What was next? Voices in her head? "I must be hallucinating," she thought. "This just can't be real, it can't." She sighed, "Maybe I'm only---"
Her own thoughts were suddenly interrupted by another of these incredibly painful aches stinging her head and heart. This was no ordinary pain; this new interference was even more dreadful, and seemed even more genuine.
Deceiver of hopes
Deceiver of fools
He rules again
Not able to suffer any longer, Selene backed away from the crowded sidewalk. "Michael… wait…" she called, almost cried out. The sufferance was invading her entire body and she started to breath heavily and with difficulty.
Michael quickly turned around to face her and saw that his mate was leaning her back onto the wall of an edifice. This had gone too far; what was with her? "Selene, what's the matter?" he asked warily as he approached her. He couldn't help himself from glimpsing at the sky; no sunrays were visible, so what was Selene's problem? And it was nine o'clock in the evening, so that possibility was impossible. "What's gone with you?"
Selene slowly raised her eyes from the ground and stared at Michael in alarm. Michael realized that tears were gathering in her orbs and that her lovely eyes were now of an icy crystal blue. A single tear went down Selene's cheek as she wrapped her thin arms around her own abdomen. The sickness was literally invading her. She let out a loud breath before saying, "I don't know, Michael. I don't know."
Worry invaded Michael as he thought of the worst… or what he thought was the worst. "You're not well, Selene," he said as he shook his head. "You need some rest."
Somehow, Selene found some strength inside of her to manage to shake her head. "No rest for me, Michael… I just can't, it will make things even worse."
Michael realized that a new ache had stung her, for Selene had suddenly clasped her hands to her lower throat. Persistently, he didn't give in, "You haven't closed your eyes since two nights ago, you can't go on without sleep---"
"No!" Selene suddenly interrupted him. "I can't sleep, Michael! You can't understand what I'm going through right now!" Selene said wearily.
"I do understand you, Selene. You've been lied to, I know this," Michael said more gently.
"I'm not talking about that, Michael," Selene said anxiously. "It's just that… this pain… it's been happening since a while ago." She paused for a moment, breathing awkwardly.
Michael somehow recognized her will to open herself to him. "Tell me," he said softly.
Selene raised her cold Vampiric eyes back from where she's been gazing blankly, and stared into Michael's hazel eyes. "This pain… has been plaguing me from the inside. It started in my dreams; I've had recent nightmares involving all the events of the past week."
Michael found himself captivated by what Selene was telling him, although he seemed perturbed by her illness. However, Selene continued, "Each time, these nightmares… involved these jumbled voices and images, as well of some cruel visions of the past."
He's awake
And sees the truth
Another tear ran down her cheek at the thought of her slaughtered family, as Selene lowered her ageless eyes. "Then this sepulchral voice is the only thing I can manage to hear and starts threatening me. And so I suddenly turn around, and I see him, standing right before my eyes---"
Michael doubtfully interrupted her, "Who?" And so she looked back at her love and said, "Viktor."
Michael remembered the awful battle where he's been fighting against the thousand and four hundred year old Vampire Elder. And what? Viktor had now full control over Selene's mind? Even after his death? "Unbelievable," Michael thought. But yet again, what was the definition of the word 'unbelievable' now? His thoughts were interrupted by Selene's frail voice.
"He's been haunting me from inside my dreams, Michael. That's why I can't manage to sleep, I'm afraid these dreams might severely affect my well-being."
He can only be when you believe
What he tells you
"Each time, these nightmares ended in the exact same way: Viktor trying to choke the life out of me… until you woke me up," Selene continued.
Despite his strong will to try to believe her, Michael couldn't manage to imagine that someone - even a Vampire - could try to harm some other people via their dreams. "Wait. You're telling me that Viktor somehow assume control of your dreams?" he asked.
Selene shook her head and sighed heavily, "I knew you couldn't understand. I know it might sound absurd, ridiculous even." She brought her forearm to her temple, "And this pain… it's so physical, so strong… I don't know where I am at, now…" Another tear.
Michael at first hesitated, but took Selene's hand in his and squeezed her palm gently. Selene, who seemed slightly surprised, stared at him. It was only in his eyes that she could find warmth and comfort. Her beautiful features softened and and her eyes were back to their natural dark brown shade. The pain had suddenly started to dissipate.
Remember who you are
What you stand for
"Everything's going to be alright," Michael said softly. "Trust me."
Selene interrupted her own gaze and looked down. "Thank you," she almost whispered.
Michael effortlessly smiled at her, glad that he had restore confidence in her. However, his eyes widened in shock at what he saw next. "Selene… you're bleeding…" he said disbelievingly.
Selene's own eyes widened at his statement, as she realized that Michael's eyes were set on above her eyes. Selene incredulously brought her right hand to her temple; there was effectively blood stained on her forehead. "Where did that come from?" Selene wondered wearily. As far as she was concerned, the gashes that have been on her head dated from two nights ago, and they would have scared by the time. Selene raised her weary eyes back to Michael's and assured him that she was all right.
"Don't bother, I'm all right, now," she said doubtfully, although still holding her hand to her forehead. "Let's go, let's not waste any time, now."
Michael smiled and slightly nodded, "Fine. Let's go." He turned around and left, still leading the walk, as Selene followed closely behind.
When Selene brought her right hand that's been holding her head back to her side, a shocking vision distracted her: fresh, newly liberated blood was flooding her hand, as if dripping from the inside of the sleeve of her leather suit. Dumbfounded, Selene unzipped her sleeve and her eyes widened at what she saw.
On her wrist was a deep gash from where was pouring crimson blood that leaked down her hand to finally reach her fingertips. Alarmed, Selene stared at the bloody wound with eyes of ice. "What is that, now!?" she panicked.
Her heart made a jump as she has a sudden flash: herself, standing in the Crypt of the Ordoghaz, biting into this same wrist, to pour some of her own blood into the coffin of Viktor himself. "Why am I bleeding? Why now? Why four nights later?!" As far as she knew, she scared really easily and rapidly, so what might have been the reason of this open gash?
"Selene!" Selene heard her name being called, and realized that she had stopped walking and that Michael was now several feet away from her. He came back to her. "Is everything alright?" he asked with a professional tolerance.
Selene quickly zipped her sleeve back and nodded confusingly and weakly, "Yes. I'm all right. Let's go."
And so they went, continuing their walk towards where fate will guide them. Selene felt really bothered and flabbergasted by what she had just seen, but she knew that Michael was always there by her side to set her mind at rest.
He smiled at her. And Selene somehow found a way to smile back.
There will always be a way
Beneath the city streets, Mason's squad of Death Dealers was roaming silently, leaded by Viktor, their almighty leader. The Dealers walking behind the Elder were looking straight ahead of them, although some dared to send worried glimpses at others in the presence of their dark master.
Deceiver of hearts
Deceiver of fools
He rules with fear
As for Viktor, it's with a firm and fast step that he made his way through the dark tunnels, stepping carelessly and cruelly on the Lycan carcasses lying on his path. "Well, they have certainly done a good job around here," he satisfyingly thought, expecting the dead bodies of the enemy surrounding him on the floor.
Although decisive to return to the Ordoghaz and have a serious discussion with Marcus, Viktor couldn't believe what Mason had told him. How dare they awaken Marcus - whoever did - without asking for Viktor's authorization? And even if they all thought he was definitely dead, couldn't they have waited until making any stubborn decision?
However, issues were going to be modified. And the creation of the half-Vampire-Lycan was only confirming these modifications. Someone had to deal with that monstrosity, and Viktor was the one to do so.
Deceiver of hopes
Deceiver of fools
He rules again
The abomination - Viktor thought of it with loathing, abhorrence, revulsion. The least thought of it filled up his eyes with fiery rage, though he couldn't wait to exterminate the beast. "I vow on the Covenant that this… demon will die by my own hands," he thought with hatred.
The thing he had tried to prevent for centuries had somehow found its way to be. And what bothered the Elder the most is that Selene was the only one responsible for the hybrid's creation.
Nevertheless, Selene would soon pay with her life. Viktor mused on the kinds of torture he would inflict her, "I could have her exposed to the sun rays, or either have her decapitated. Or perhaps I could impose her the same treatment as her former family." He remembered the expression on Selene's face when she found out that he has been betraying her all these years. He would have pity for her if only she hadn't decapitated him herself, but since she had, she had to face the deadly consequences.
But for now, things much more important mattered. Such as getting to the Ordoghaz, deal with Marcus, rid the Underworld of the one and only Vampire-Lycan hybrid… "And conceivably find out what's become of my dear Anya," Viktor thought compassionately.
The Elder slightly slowed down his step and calmly addressed himself to Mason, "Tell me, Mason…"
Mason, always focused and aware of what his master expected of him, raised his eyes from the ground. "Yes, my Lord."
"I was just curious to know… what has become of Anyanka, one of your fellow warriors," Viktor asked the calmest way ever.
"Of course he asked that," Mason thought to himself, unsurprised. "Well, my Lord… to say the truth… Anyanka has been feeling extremely forsaken and heartbroken since she's heard of your… death," he seemed less certain pronouncing the last word. He sighed and added, "I might add that I've never seen her as bleak and as desolate as she's been these last two nights." He let out another sigh.
"For she's absolutely not aware of the fact that I have come to revive again," Viktor guessed, rising a surprised eyebrow.
"She is not, my Lord," Mason answered. "Otherwise she wouldn't have been mourning your demise and would have come to you long before my fellow Death Dealers and I, of this I am certain, my Lord."
Viktor nodded slightly, "I'll take that into consideration."
"Anything else, my Lord?" Mason asked, as any other loyal Death Dealer would have.
"That will do," Viktor answered dryly. His thoughts went back to Anya. Contrarily to Selene, she has always been faithful to him until now, and Viktor knew that she would always be. But loyalty wasn't everything indeed; and was this only loyalty? Actually, Viktor knew that Anya had this thing going on for him since very long ago. He was also perfectly aware of the fact that the residents of Ordoghaz knew Anya as being Viktor's favorite of them all. Viktor sighed, "Perhaps I could consent this fondness she has for me, and increase mine for her in exchange."
After all, all these blissful years she's been living at the mansion, Anya owed them to him, didn't she? She had in fact proven it by reviving him herself, only two nights ago.
But the only thing is that when she had done it, she had absolutely no idea of what she was doing.
In my heart there is a place
In my heart there is a trace
Of a small fire burning
The training quarters of the Ordoghaz were practically unoccupied, only for two Death Dealers practicing fighting methods in a corner of the large room and for the weaponry master, Kahn, who was silently sitting at his desk, pondering whether on the newly tragedies and what was to come next, or on some new combat tactics.
Further, some deafening gunshot noises could be heard. A tall, beautiful Vampiress was standing, her arms stretched in front of her torso and holding a Walther P99R in her hands. Unwillingly, Anyanka had come to believe that gun training would help her 'forget' about what had recently happened to her in her life, and had come down to the training room.
For the last hour, she had been shooting some granite sculptures of some ancient nobles full of silver nitrate, imagining that instead of these unknown visages, Selene's face was staring grimly at her. Anya longed so much to be standing before her at this precise moment. All these tortures she could inflict her.
The last bust exploded and pieces of broken statue fell to the marble floor. Another statuette came up from another pillar, as Anya prepared herself to aim at her target. Her eyes widened in disgust as she recognized the dreadful mug of the noble represented on the sculpture.
Kraven of Leicester. Not hesitating longer, Anyanka squeezed the trigger and within three silver shots, pieces of broken granite were scattered across the floor. "Not looking so aristocratic now, are you, jerk," Anya thought to herself. She had had enough of training. The only sight of Kraven made her lose all her passion at gun shooting.
Anya brought her left hand to her forehead and sighed. The funeral reception was about to start in a few hours from now, and the least she could do was to dress of her finest garnishes and clothing and to assist to the reception, even though she would have preferred dying to assist her mentor's definitive interment.
A sparkling light shines through this night
Although it's small it's bright
But darkness is like Hell
Suddenly, she felt a strange warmness on her temple. As a reflex, she brought her hand back from her forehead and realized that her left palm was profoundly wounded as blood was vastly leaking from it. "What happened?" she asked herself as her eyes widened in astonishment. "What have I done to bleed like that?"
As staring at her gashed palm, a very well known vision came up to her mind: a vision of herself standing in the dark sewers and cutting her left palm open with the help of a sharp dagger, to finally pour some of her own blood onto the dead body of Viktor.
He would sell your soul
To bitterness and cold
Oh, fear him…
Her heart made a single jump when she thought of the impossible. "And what if--- no this can't be," she rapidly changed her mind. "Viktor cannot be alive, I've seen him with my own eyes and---" She interrupted herself, not willing to think about Viktor and his death and all these cruel things. She had to get prepared, now, so she headed to her private quarters and tried to forget about this bloody incident.
Deceiver of hearts
Deceiver of fools
He rules with fear
Neither Anyanka nor Selene was aware of the fact that their Lord and Sire had awakened again. It would be to the great delight of one and to the anguish of another to figure it out, but for the moment, they didn't know.
Deceiver of hopes
Deceiver of fools
Their dark father was back on the throne, only this time forever. Selene, Michael, and Kraven needed to watch their backs, because if one of the three fugitives had the terrible misfortune to find themselves on Viktor's path, this would definitely mean that they'd be facing their very own deaths.
Shall he rule…
Again…