Eight
When the Bloodlust Calls

The silhouette seemed familiar, as did the darkness, yet the shadowed figure appeared to stand out against such a backdrop of night.

It felt like I was drifting, and for a few seconds there was peace – peace and emptiness. Then there was a voice, a voice that snatched me from the silence and guided me back to awakening. It seemed to be the voice of night, day having ended, a new dusk to awake to, as well as a new pain.

In moments of absentness I muttered within rest, sweat gathered upon my brow, and when restlessness harvested by thoughts, I tossed and turned.

"Rest now..." There was that voice once more, the one that had pulled me from the depths of eternal darkness. I had thought that it had been the voice of evening, the one that beckoned to a vampire when the sun had set, when the mortals were asleep.

That voice of evening – how she would call. She would beckon you by calling upon the very threads of the tantalising lust for blood, and sometimes you alone would wake due to the hunger that you felt inside. This voice however, I was soon to discover, was not the voice of evening or hunger, but was the voice of another.

My claws lay open and unmoving, relaxed gently, though the talons twitched slightly when what felt like a hand touched them. I allowed the contact to remain through the strands of reassurance, whilst the faint smell of a Mortal caressed my senses.

Reflexes within me suddenly awoke to that human scent, that human touch, that human... so close... How foolish...

My claws reacted suddenly, clamping hard around the hand that touched them. There was a gasp of impulsive shock. They had not expected me to awaken so suddenly.

My eyes shot open.

Ah, the female servant. She remained motionless in my grasp, like a creature caught within a hunters aim. Her eyes were wide with that everlasting fear, though I wondered why she feared me now, for in this state – at this present time, I could do little to harm her.

Our gazes remained fixed upon each other, mine being entirely dominant even though I was weak.

My mind acted on the scene that remained unravelled. I questioned her presence here, to why a mortal, to why merely a servant was within my chambers, obviously without permission. If I had had the energy to frown I would have done.

I glanced around to see if there was anyone else within my chambers, for where were my fledglings? No one but the servant and myself were here. Much to my relief my fledglings were not, after all, it was safer for them not to be.

We remained that way for a while, until it was I released my grip upon her hand and turned my head slightly so that I could look upon her better. No words were exchanged between us, and constantly I watched her – inquisitively, for she seemed to be here at her own accordance.

All my other servants knew that in times of change it was best that no one came near. Yet nothing more was surprising then the fact that... she... willingly tended to me.

She stepped back a few paces and stood still. Now that I was awake she was unsure of whether she should continue tending to me, or whether she should leave at once, or whether she should wait for me to rebuke her. All these thoughts flickered through her mind, the servant knowing that she had no rights in being here, that indeed she was trespassing and whatever happened to her now that I was awake, was all her own fault. For 'tis never wise to enter the resting place of a vampire.

I exhaled in contentment – not condemning her from the room, and turned my gaze away from her, focusing upon the ceiling instead.

With no clear protest she continued to make it her task in seeing to me.

The stroke of her hand touching my skin made my senses react. How cold her hands felt compared my flesh... or was it vice versa? Was it that her hands were warm but my skin was cold? I could not tell as my senses were too tangled to even begin to figure it out.

Gently, and with care, she pushed away sweaty strands of hair from my face. My eyes were now focussed upon the servant once more, and they followed her every movement – observing her gestures.

What had I asked for that had resulted in her doing this? I considered all aspects, wondering how Zephon would have acted if it had been but he who had awoken to this.

Mortals, it was in our nature to despise them, and it was in theirs to despise us. Yet here was one tending to a vampire, and not just any vampire, but a Vampire Lord. Oh what had the great strands of fate done to twist this factor of fortune?

But I was careful of her, for as I have said before, what would she ask of me in doing such a task? Immortality perchance? It would seem natural for one such as her kind to take advantage of some pathetic creature in their weakest moment, and I wondered – could she be that manipulative? Only time would tell, for now though, I let her be.

Through bewilderment I was still trying to readjust my senses to the atmosphere around me. In times of change our senses were always slower, as were our reactions. The bewilderment of my senses were once again combined with the one factor of why she was here, it was a thought, which at that moment would not leave me.

Moments again and I considered asking her, if I could muster the strength. My eyes flickered, my lips parting to try and speak and then sudden pain that wrapped its grip tightly around me, biting into my nerves. Cruelly it reminded me that I was still in the state of change, and that I would remain like this for quite a few nights to come.

My body convulsed in that familiar flow. I arched my spine, muscles tensed, teeth gritted. I brought my claws up and then suddenly twisted my hands in a gesture of a result that came from the hurt. My lips partied though no sound left them – muted, a silent scream, as change ravaged onwards.

The price of immortality was this – this unbearable moment. Though the end result would benefit me, I could not help but take notice of the doubt that lingered within my soul.

The servant came close once more and rested one of her hands upon my forehead; distantly such contact made, surprisingly brought me the strangest comfort.

Oh how could I be so weak? Yet there was no other way. To let pain be triumphant was but the only way forwards, and in doing so I had to bare the hurt.

Nausea concluded the sudden instant of displeasure. I lay in that twisted position for a few moments, lungs paused upon respiration, physique cramping beyond control. When it past again I collapsed, my muscles suddenly relaxing with weakness, caving in under my own weight.

The pain past and out of habit I lay gasping, my muscles hurting due to the sudden collision of cramp that had just grasped at them. Next to me the servant moved, she held onto something within her hands, a cloth dampened by water.

So suddenly, if I did not speak out my body would be refined with even more pain!

At first my vocals seemed to be frozen upon the weakness that I was slave to. But as she went to bring the moist cloth to my face my hand shot out and gripped her wrist tightly.

"No, do not..."

For a moment I listened to those words and surprised myself at how weakly they had left my lips.

"You must not." I continued, looking at her through glazed eyes.

She looked at me in a confused state but dared not go against what I had said, and her eyes remained distant with puzzlement. Puzzlement... did she not know? Did she not know of how water could destroy vampires, that a small budding drop upon our skin could cause so much pain?

"Water – burns us..." I replied in hope of soothing her bafflement.

"Oh." Her voice sounded dismayed as she dropped the cloth to the floor promptly, like it had contained poison, or as if it had even burned her. "Forgive me, I did not know."

"You did not?"

Her admittance to not knowing shocked me. "I thought that," and I chuckled, though the laugh nearly choked me – sounding dry and raucous – and it seemed to rattle within my chest. Quickly I sat up. What pain laughter brought me.

In sitting up so I noticed the fact that my armour and garb had been removed. This also raised questions, though when her cheeks flushed slightly I decided against asking.

My choking halted. I tilted my head back and opened my mouth wide in sudden exasperation.

Afterwards, I collapsed back onto my bed once more.

With irritation and frustration I threw parts of the blankets back. Enveloping heat escaped and was replaced with the cool touch of night air. I lay exposed, defeated, exhausted, decaying, drained.

The servant came close and descended to her knees next to the bed and asked, "You thought what, my lord?"

A weak smile and a reply, "That every mortal would know... how to... harm..."

Her eyes flickered. It seems laughable to state or even consider that they flickered in concern. "But your fever," she continued to speak. "How am I to calm it if –"

I raised my right claw wearily and pressed it against her lips to bay her silence. "'Tis not a fever."

My touch startled her. She allowed my claw to remain so close to her, though I am not sure whether it was from morbid fascination or true dread.

"Then what is it?" She asked curiously, whispering suddenly as if it was some sudden secret.

"Change, 'tis change."

In speaking of such so openly, through the word 'change', it felt that I had now condemned myself to nights of suffering. I hoped that rest would find me before then and bay quiet upon my soul before the torment continued.

In the depths of seclusion my mind fortified its own decision. Here knelt the young woman, who before would have been so happy to burn my flag – delighted in burning all of our flags, and then continue to dance in the ashes afterwards. This same mortal was now here, next to me, attempting to soothe what she considered to be a 'fever'. The very idea was laughable.

"Calm female, why do you care so? I thought one such as you would delight in seeing... one such as I, being in pain."

"I did not come to torment you, my lord."

"And why did you then?"

"To..." She frowned, perhaps she was uncertain of her reasons as well. It seemed she was but a slave to her own thoughts, as well as to me, acting out what either of us demanded of her.

This question she could not answer, that much was truth. With this deduction she began to get up, intent on leaving. Nevertheless, I reached out, my claws securing themselves around her wrist. I pulled her suddenly back down to her knees in one movement that resulted to be a weak motion, yet at the same time still resulted in shocking her.

She looked at me blankly as I ran my claws upon her palm, caught up in my own fascination of looking at mortal skin, and just managing to seek out the faint line of a vein below the membrane.

Inside of me the echoing stirs of the thirst were beginning to develop. For now I ignored such calls to feed.

Her hand I enclosed in my own and rested it upon my chest. I closed my eyes. A fateful scene, easy prey kneeling close to me... Such was the way of fate.

How I delighted myself in thinking of the image of predator and prey lying together in union. The mortals thought themselves innocent, oh and how we – the demonic breed, stole their innocence from them.

Angel and Demon lying together for but a while, such thoughts remained ludicrous but highly delightful in the deep chasm that burnt passionately inside of me.

After a brief awakening rest was demanding to have its way again once more, and who was I to fight it? My eyes remained closed. I listened to the night sounds around us and through darkened thoughts I considered how dangerous it was for me in her being here, though in truth it was dangerous for us both.

On one side of the debate was the fact that this state brought me to my most vulnerable point – if she wished to destroy me, now was the time to do it. On the other side it was dangerous for her, for where would she hide when the hunger inside of be awoke?

As she knelt close to the bed I could smell the scent of her and I wondered deeply once more of how she had managed to get into my chambers. I presumed my chambers would be being guarded due to my sudden susceptibility that change caused.

Once again I thought upon the shocking conclusion that there would be a moment when I would loose control and a sudden thirst would take over – bloodlust, and such was the way of change. So was it wise for the mortal to be in here? What did it matter anyway, it was only a human...

I could no longer hold sway, for before I could act upon my decision I was already within rest once more.

I imagined that I was dreaming. I imagined that I could see the Melchiahim, and the image of that landscape of snow and ice. I imaged the sun yet allowed the image to fade when it became too bright. Most of all I imaged the water. I imaged that I was diving through limitless depths, the coolness of her against me, the gentle darkness of depths far out of the reach of anything living.

Blood. I imagined blood. I imagined that it disturbed the surface of the water, falling elegantly onto the element, ripples parting as the crimson substance kissed the surface.

Deep set within my mind was constant thoughts of Melchiah. I wondered how my brother was faring, how his clan were doing. My faith remained strongly placed upon him... If only I had been there to see him leave...

Moments remained fragmented. In times such as these there seems to be no justification of the passing of time. Moments merge together. Seconds become minutes, minutes become hours, hours become nights, and so forth and so on. Each element of time seems to be bent to the willing intuition of another's, extended to an agonizing length, as if it is that even time likes to see others suffer.

As the night progressed I would awaken every now and then, just for a brief moment, either to acknowledge a sudden burst of hurt, or just to turn over within rest.

The room remained quiet, still and soundless.

The next time I awoke that night it was through the calling of hunger. A strong and most deadly calling it was. The subtle sweetness of the want and need for blood.

With the essence of change, bloodlust is stronger, and it is almost uncontrollable. Above all it consumes you with a passion to sink your teeth into anything that carries the life flow you strongly wish to wildly devour.

The first couple of nights within change normally resulted in gorging oneself full of blood. After this it meant you could withdraw and remain in solitude, deep within rest and not rise again until it was the change had fully occurred. At that moment I had yet to do this, and inside me I naturally knew that I could not rest entirely, could not progress through change properly, until it was I had fed substantially.

Evolution was part of our vampiric existence, always evolving to better ourselves in stages of metamorphosis. The first progressions of evolution were brief moments, quickly accelerated by short periods of where we remained dormant in our chambers. In early days as a vampire such stages would result in one gaining claws, strength, swiftness, anything that would give such a predator as us an advantage over our prey. However, as we progressed, our evolution became more 'grander'.

Understand this – I am a creature of wildness, one of cruelty, of that I will admit. Despite the fact that a majority of times I seem to be quite reserved, that is but one side... Another is to let the true nature of a vampire rage within me. When within the grasps of change, it remains to be the only thing you can do.

The scent of mortality greeted me. I had forgotten the moments before I had fallen into rest, forgotten everything. It did not matter, only one thing remained certain, there was this strong urge for blood.

Bloodlust has a way of smothering you whole, cutting off all senses but the hunger for blood – the need for it and the loneliness, pain and emptiness you feel if you did not swallow the coppery fire of another.

This strong scent of a human that my senses caught a hold of, aroused me deeply. For that sweet scent could soothe the hunger within me. I felt pain no longer; only the hunger, and I wished that my children would come to me, bring me something to feed from.

And through mind I called to them.

I sat bolt upright, a lucid feeling with no control drifted over me. My mood was changing, with every spark of change bore inside me a tempest of emotions followed. Bloodlust had taken control and weakness was forgotten.

Bloodlust many times can be cruel. It can bring us the highest amount of pleasure, and it is through this that we may have eternal existence. Yet like all things there is a price to pay through such. The want and need for blood can be tormenting, it can bring pain as well as anguish. I have seen many fledglings attempt to destroy themselves through the bewilderment of why something that can bring us so much pleasure can also destroy us. Above all, bloodlust remains to be powerful. It can entrap and imprison all those who are not careful of it.

It was bloodlust that ensnared me now, made me its slave. It made me fragile to its will with my overpowering need, even hungrier then usual due to the aspect of change.

The hunger remained to stir powerfully, awakening like it was another creature that dwelled within me. Times like those can make you become blind to everything else but your desire.

The call to my children was still being echoed throughout the threads of whispers, something to sedate this thirst I needed.

As if in answer I found that 'something'.

Upon the floor like something out of the grasps of a dream, a mortal slept. Had my children brought me this young woman and then left so quickly? I was delusional and drunk upon the aspects of change. One thing remained notable; I did not remember the moments before.

Out of my place of rest I climbed, the night air caressing my skin serenely. I placed my bare feet upon the cold stone floor and descended to my knees, allowing myself to stare at the mortal who lay resting there with only but one thought in mind, her blood.

With hunger at its highest point she infatuated me by my need for her blood. Mesmerised I watched as her chest rose and fell with every breath she took, and the closer I got so her heartbeat seemed to beckon me.

The pull inside me made it so I could resist fighting it no longer. Without hesitation I bent forwards and took her into an embrace, lifting her into my arms before standing. With mortal clasped to my chest greed began to overtake reason.

I remembered her now, as I looked upon her face. I recalled her as some distant thought. Yes, I remembered her. I remembered the servant who had seen to me and served me so willingly. It seemed like some distant memory, it seemed like years ago, though it had been but a couple of hours.

That did not matter, for all that did matter was but to extinguish my pain by extinguishing her life, by feeding me. Her life would sustain mine. And what was she, but some petty mortal?

Lord Kain had told stories of the great vampire Vorador. How he, the great Vorador, had regarded humanity as nothing more than 'brutish cattle' set within Nosgoth to sustain our needs. Was he right? I could not question him; I did not want to, all that I wanted was to feed.

Upon the edge of the bed I sat with this mortal still within my grasps. This mortal stood to be my symbiotic reference to my constant existence. She did not move or even notice that she lay cradled in the arms of a vampire, because gently I had moved her and she still remained to be asleep.

I savoured the moment gracefully, whilst whispering into ear, "Why attempt to burn my flag so?"

I recalled the moment where she had been Zephon's victim. I had wondered what fate had intended to do with her, and was this is? That instead of sustaining Zephon she was instead saved to sustain me? The thought was delightful, but I had so many more questions that I wanted to ask her.

"Why the need to burn my flag, and then serve me so willingly?"

With my claws I pushed away the strands of hair that were covering her face, and then titled back my head – gasping as the lust began to take a full hold. I could feel my teeth elongating even more so, lengthening to a sharper point then they had been previously, my eyes filling with a darkness so overpowering I feared that it would devour me completely, and somewhere at the back of my mind I discovered that I wanted it to.

I tilted her head to one side and gazed longingly at the location that hid the sustenance my body yearned for.

"You should have left when you had the chance." It was but a whisper into her ear, though not even that awoken her. She was too far-gone in the arms of sleep to awaken to my faint and delusional mutterings.

I bent over her form – which I now clasped to my chest. I nudged back strands of her hair, and then teasingly I rested my mouth upon the skin of her neck – as if to kiss her, nearly piercing the membrane with my canines, hitherto not allowing the blood to yet flow.

Inside lust made me laugh at her folly. What was her loss became my gain. She should never have come to me.