Marriskha opened her eyes and she knew they had given her blood, for she felt warm and full. She frowned slightly, remembering the previous events with her 'master' and she hated herself her weakness, yet blamed it for the lack of blood. She came to the conclusion she needed it more in her brain than in her heart. She slowly got up and have a small yelp, realising she was in a coffin and in a completely different room. She remembered the masters' plans and came to the conclusion she was in castle Frankenstein. She looked outside the window and saw in the distance the shattered mill and she knew she was right. The flashback of the monster dying, knowing it was the key, came back to her. They had attempted to bring their children to life once and now that the key was destroyed the brides had given up hope, save for their master. Marriskha, having not even thought of mating her master, detested the offspring and kept away from them for they also gave off an off-putting smell, almost like death itself. The door opened, causing the young vampire to jump. It was the Count, looking somewhat, concerned. "Ah, I am pleased to see you are awake" he spoke as he walked over to her. She did not look at him and he knew she was angry, yet he decided to make her a challenge again and decided to question her, instead of rummaging through her thoughts like a book. He had turned the young woman because she was different and reminded him of what he was ever so like, anger, passion and the need for power and control. Yet he knew, she would never turn evil, for she loved her God too much and would never turn away from him…much to his annoyance. Yet he did have a foreign feeling for her, which only angered him more. He was the son of the devil, a hollow creature and no man, although this confused him, the feeling grew slightly, every moment he saw her. To him, she was a radiant beauty yet as he was her master, she would never know his thoughts. He laid his hand on her cheek, for the need of her, to touch her, was unbearable to him. She backed away, quickly enough for his eyes to flash with anger; she had refused him for too long. She returned the look, she was cold now and he had done that. "I cannot bear it when you touch me, to be your slave in the dark, beckoning your every order!" she yelled and the Count forgot his feelings for her and grew anger, anger that she was refusing him, yet again. "You and your whores, seeing you together, forgetting me all of the time!" she continued, wanting him just to see how lonely she was. Yet the Count ignored it, he bared his fangs, grabbed her wrists and slammed her against the wall. He placed his hand on her neck, squeezing it hard, hard enough to give her ultimate pain. She had not felt so much pain since he turned her. "You dare to call my brides whores, you dare to shout at me!" he shouted at her, frightening her. He did not realise he was breathing; yet he was breathing hard. Marriskha closed her eyes, in fear. He ignored this and bit hard into her neck, the crimson blood started to flow into his mouth. She hated him eve more, for needlessly feeding on her, for hurting her, yet she did not care. She hated him and everything in her forsaken life, she would always be alone. Panic coursed through her veins, he was drinking too much blood, in anger. For one split second, she thought he was killing her, yet she felt too weak to push him away. She let out a cry of pain and defeat. Realising what he was doing, he let go, she fell onto the floor…he had taken too much.
