- - - Chapter Six: The Prisoner - - -
Hearing was the first sense to return to Anakin as he woke up. Sounds were odd. It took him a moment to realize that was because there was an echo that distorted each small noise. He had to be someplace big. Then came his sense of feeling. It was cold. Next, came his sense of smell. It was dank and musty. There was also a lingering scent of blood, a smell Anakin was all too familiar with.
He knew it from his childhood. He grew up as vampire cattle. The tang of blood constantly lingered in the air. It was like salt, peppered in everything one ate and drank. When Qui-Gon saved him and he joined the Order, it took him almost a year to get used to normal tasting food. Food that wasn't tainted. However, the smell never left. It hung about in the training rooms as he learned to kill the unholy. It lay in the air like a thick fog whenever he raided a vampire's hideout. It spiked whenever he got slashed by claws. It buried into his holy sword. Into his very pores.
He knew the smell of blood more intimately than any other, and wherever he was, it reeked of blood.
Finally, he opened his eyes. His vision was blurry and all he saw was dark gray blobs. He blinked a few times as his vision came slowly into focus. He realized he was laying on his back, looking up at a tall, domed stone ceiling. At the top of the dome was a small square hole. Or possibly a window. Dull gray featureless gray light filtered through it. It lit up Anakin, but not much beyond him. He could just make out the room matched the ceiling; large and circular. The far curves were cast completely in black. If there was a door, it was hidden.
He tried to move, but his body was held down by something sharp, cold and heavy. Metal. He bent his head down. He was strapped down to some kind of table. A metal cuff wrapped around his ankles, wrists, upper arms, waist, and chest. He twisted and pushed against the constraints, but they held strong.
He let out a frustrated shout. He couldn't remember exactly what had happened when he was in his room with Padmé, though he could infer he had been drugged. But who . . . One of the maids? Weren't they both Padmé's servants? Had someone entered the room when he had his back to the door as he was packing and comforting Padmé?
Padmé!
What had happened to her? He twisted his head as he looked around. He was alone. A stabbing cold hit his heart. Had they taken her too? The vampires? . . . Palpatine?
"Hey!" he shouted. Only his echo answered back. He shouted again. Still no answer.
He thrashed against the metal bands for a short moment, before he started to calm down by taking in sharp breaths through his nose. Eventually, his breathing became even and quiet. Then it was the soft sound of his breathing and the distant dripping of water echoing through the room. He closed his eyes and tried to ease himself down into a meditative state, but his concentration was broken by the click of heels approaching. The beam of dull light flickering as a large shadow fell across him and the sounds of the boots stopped right at his table.
There was a moment of quiet and Anakin could feel eyes focusing intensely at him.
"Anakin, my boy," a voice slithered out of the figure. It caused the hair on the back of Anakin's head and on his arms to stand on end.
"Palpatine!" Anakin growled back.
The figure took a step to the right. The light shifted and he could make out Duke Palpatine standing next to him wearing the traditional vampire robe. Anakin growled. Something feral was unraveling inside of him. Again, his body pushed and pulled against his constraints.
"It is futile to free yourself from there," Palpatine said.
Anakin noticed the red-rimmed gold eyes and long fangs.
"Are you Darth Sidious?" he asked.
Palpatine paused as if in shock and then laughed. It was a full hearty laugh. His belly shook and his head fell back. The laugh echoed around the large empty room. Even after he stopped laughing, the sound could still be heard echoing faintly.
"I am," he said proudly. His smile showed off his fangs.
Anakin snarled. The Order had no information on how old Sidious was, but he was old. Older than most currently living vampires. During the Crusades, the Jedi Knights were able to land a crushing blow to the vampires. It was thought they had finally eradicated them all. Of course, such vermin were hard to completely kill. Over the past 700 years, the vampire population had been growing again.
Though it was doubtful Palpatine had been alive that long. Vampires were jealous and violent creatures, even to their own kin. Older vampires were seen as a threat. Vampires got stronger as they aged. Usually, a group of younger vampires would team up to bring down anyone stronger. The average vampire usually had a lifespan of a hundred years after they became one from either other vampires, Jedi Knights, or a natural cause like starvation or sunlight.
The Holy Order theorized Sidious was around 300 years old. His first confirmed appearance was around two hundred years ago, and by then he was already mentioned as an older vampire. It meant that Palpatine had been fooling not just Anakin but also the English nobility and royalty as well as the Order for all their lives and more beyond that.
"Yes, I have been doing this a long time," Palpatine said. His mannerisms had changed. No longer was he the soft-spoken duke. He stood tall. His words were laced in arrogance. "I've been planning this a long time, and finally it's all coming together."
"Planning what? Your next meal?"
Palpatine took a step closer. His face fell into shadow as he looked down. The dull light was haloed around his head, and his gold eyes glowed and his white teeth were very visible as he smiled. A cold hand rested against Anakin's throat. He felt the nails slowly grow longer into long claws. One of which started to dig into his skin. He soon felt the warmth of his blood start trickling down his neck.
Palpatine removed the hand brought it up to his face. His pointer finger had fresh blood on it. He licked it and closed his eyes and leaned his head back.
"Mmmmm," he hummed. "Delicious. Yes, you would make a fine meal, Anakin. Alas, your life will not end like pathetic cattle."
Silence stretched between them.
"You intend to turn me," Anakin said in a low voice.
"Yes," Palpatine said.
"I won't be turned into some demon spawn! I'd rather die as cattle!"
"Really?" Palpatine purred. "You would widow your wife? Let your child be born fatherless?"
"Do not touch them!" Anakin shouted. He strained against the metal bars. "What have you done with them? If you have touched Padmé- "
"You will what?" Palpatine laughed. "You cannot do anything."
"I will kill you!"
Palpatine's hand lashed out faster than Anakin could keep track of it. The hand grabbed Anakin's face and squeezed his cheeks together. Sharp claw-like nails dug into his skin.
"Silence," Palpatine hissed.
"Or what? You'll kill me?" Anakin spat.
"Be silent, listen to what I have to say, and I'll let you see your dear lovely wife. She is unharmed and well."
There was a threat lingering there, but Anakin didn't push his luck. He nodded his head just the barest amount, but Palpatine saw it and withdrew his hand.
"Good. Good. Yes, my dear boy, I intend on turning you into one of us."
Anakin bit his lip to avoid snarling an insult. Palpatine paused to see if he would, but when Anakin didn't speak up, he continued.
"You are special, Anakin," Palpatine said. "Your destiny has always been to become one of us from the moment you were born."
Anakin couldn't stop his snort. What a joke. Him? Special? The only specialness he had ever felt was that he didn't fit in. He hadn't been raised by the Order like the other knights. He barely had an education. He was always behind. Always lacking. Always scrambling and fighting his way to be on par with his peers. And once he did make it, they scowled and frowned at him. He was never good enough except for a precious few like Padmé.
"I see you have your doubts," Palpatine continued. "But I assure you that you are not. Your existence was first heralded centuries ago. A prophecy spoke of a chosen one."
"Blasphemy," Anakin blurted out. Palpatine only raised an eyebrow to remind Anakin of their deal. Anakin nodded that he wouldn't interrupt anymore.
"This prophecy spoke of a chosen one. One who would bring balance to this world. Who would right the injustices and establish a new era of peace unlike any before it. When you were found by the Jedi, Qui-Gon Jinn was wise enough to recognize you for what you were. He was convinced that this balance meant the eradication of vampires. But that wasn't it at all. You will bring balance to this world, but for the vampires."
Anakin bared his teeth and growled. Palpatine only laughed.
"You will become something more than just a simple vampire. You will become a Sith!"
"I won't become a vampire or a Sith," Anakin said no longer able to bite back the urge to speak. "I am nothing like you!"
"Oh? But you already are." Palpatine leaned over so his face hovered above Anakin's. "You already are, my boy. Do you know what qualifications a person must have to become a Jedi Knight? Sensitivity to the Force? And why do some people have it and some don't? No doubt you were told you have been chosen by God." His voice was thick with mockery.
"Ha!" he barked. "You know truly makes a Jedi, boy? It's because they're all half vampires. Dhampirs. One parent is a human, while the other is a vampire. Their supernatural powers aren't a blessing. Their powers are just waterdown versions of vampires."
"Lies!" Anakin shouted. "You liar!"
"It is a hard truth to swallow, my boy. To learn the very thing you hunt is the very thing that makes you so special."
"So you're saying my father was a vampire?"
Palpatine paused as a crooked smile twisted on his face. "No," he said. "That's where you are different. You have no father, Anakin Skywalker. You were born free of mortal sin. Born pure. A perfect vessel of the Dark."
"Are you done?" Anakin asked. "Can I see Padmé now?"
Palpatine's face fell. He looked annoyed. As if Anakin would be swayed or impressed by all his nonsensical grandstanding.
"Very well," he sighed. "But one more thing before I bring out the marchioness." He nodded over his shoulder.
Anakin heard the shuffling of feet approaching. Two figures stepped out of the shadows. Both wore black cloaks with their hoods drawn over their faces. One was carrying a thin long object wrapped in white cloth. They handed it to Palpatine, bowed, and scurried away. Palpatine slowly unwrapped the object.
Anakin first noticed the object was black, and as the wrapping fell away, he realized it was an arm. It consisted of the forearm and hand with black ink skin. It didn't look natural. Human skin could get quite that dark; this was an unnatural black.
"Recognize this?" Palpatine asked.
Anakin opened his mouth to say of course he didn't, but the words died in his mouth before they left. A cold chill washed over him. "Is that . . . Is that my arm?" he asked. It was a right arm. It looked the right size.
"Yes. It was a gift from Rush Clovis. You might be pleased to know he was killed shortly afterward."
Palpatine walked around the table so he was on Anakin's right. He placed the arm down in its spot. It pressed against Anakin's nub. He could feel it. It was cold and sharp. It felt like a harsh metal or lifeless stone than flesh.
"What are you going to do?" Anakin asked as he did his best to crane his head up to look at it.
"Reattaching your arm back," Palpatine said casually. "This procedure will go . . . smoother if you are a human."
"You can't reattach an arm," Anakin said.
A cold hand slammed Anakin's head down. For a moment his vision blurred and he saw stars. He felt cold hands on his face.
"I'm afraid," Palpatine said in a slow voice, "this will hurt."
Anakin opened his mouth to say something, anything, but whatever objection or sharp retort he had was quickly erased by his screams. He wasn't sure what was happening. His body was spasming out of control. His back arched. His arms and legs twitched. Bright flashes of blue light danced from his right arm. And the pain. Oh, the pain.
It was like burning knives and cold needles jabbing into him. His arm was being boiled from the inside out. He could smell the burning flesh. Then the burning would quickly ease away only to be replaced by searing cold. Cold that clawed up each of his blood vessels. Into each piece of hair on his skin and turned them into small razors that dug into his skin.
He screamed and screamed until finally the cold seemed to reach his head and froze his very core.
The sound of approaching steps woke Anakin up. He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep. A few moments? Minutes? Hours? The concept of time was completely lost on him. The room looked the same. The dull grey light still filtered down from a small square opening far above him.
The steps were getting closer. They were not the heavy steps of Palpatine nor the soft shuffling steps of the servants. These were sharp with a small gap between each step, which meant a small gait.
"Anakin?"
His name in combination with that voice completely stole the air from his lungs.
"Pa- Padmé?" he croaked out. "Padmé!"
The steps ran the rest of the way over to him. Soft hands were on his chest, his face, in his hair.
"Anakin," Padmé said. His voice matched her face, which was furrowed in despair.
"Padmé. Are you all right? Is everything fine? Is the baby-"
"Everything is fine," she said as stroked his hair. "I'm fine. The baby is fine."
"Thank God," he whispered.
"Anakin . . . I . . ."
"Padmé, you have to get out of here."
"Anakin, I don't think that- "
"Do whatever you must! You can't stay here. I already told the Order! They should be on their way! You can't be here when they arrive and the fighting breaks out!"
"And why would she do that?" Palpatine's voice said from the shadows.
Both Anakin and Padmé tensed. Her hand stopped stroking his hair and instead tightened into a fist. Slowly Palpatine walked forward. He was on the other side of the table across from Padmé.
"You did well, Anakin," Palpatine said. "You played your part perfectly. You followed all of my breadcrumbs. You discovered that I was a vampire and alerted the Order just like I knew you would. Oh, do not give me that face. You think I do not control what goes on in that village so close to my own home?"
"You want the Order to come?" Anakin asked.
"It will be the start of their glorious destruction," Palpatine said.
"You are mistaken, vampire," Anakin spat the last word. "The Order will bring down a divine retribution on you and all your kin! They will smite- "
"Will they now? With what army? The one they sent to America? The one they sent to Kashyyk Forest? Or the one they sent to Greece?"
A cold dread was building up inside of Anakin's stomach.
"The Order is stretched thin," Palpatine continued. "Just as I have devised it. Whatever force they send here, will be but a mere fraction of what they should have sent. They will be crushed by my own forces, or should I say your forces?"
"I told you I am not becoming a vampire!" Anakin shouted.
Palpatine laughed. "Once you have left that human shell behind, I have no doubt you may change your mind. But I was not talking about you. I was referring to Padmé."
"You will not touch her!" Anakin shouted.
"Me? Touch a married woman? Why I would never. Plus," Palpatine said with a smile showing off his long fangs, "she already is a vampire. Has been one before you met her."
The cold dread instantly turned into a raging fire.
"Liar! I will take no more of your lies!" Anakin shouted as he pulled against the metal constraints.
Palpatine laughed. It was a laugh that made Anakin's skin crawl. He slowly walked around the table and stopped directly beside Padmé. She was stiff and avoided looking at him. Palpatine grabbed Anakin's wrist, his normal flesh wrist, and dug his long nails into it. Anakin could feel the blood spilling out. Palpatine pulled up his fingers which were stained red with blood. He held them in front of Padmé.
"Come now, child, I know you smell this blood. Such delicious blood," Palpatine cooed.
"Leave her alone!" Anakin said.
Padmé had turned her head away from Palpatine, who scowled. He shoved the fingers directly into her face. The blood smeared against her lips and cheeks. She snapped her head at him and hissed, and everything inside Anakin stopped. His breath. His blood. His thoughts. His heart. All he could do was look at the long fangs in Padmé's mouth and her red-rimmed gold eyes.
"No," Anakin said softly. "No. No. It isn't true."
Padmé gasped as she turned back to him. The gold in her eyes faded to the warm brown he was so familiar with.
"Anakin . . ."
"You're one of them?" he asked. His voice breaking. His heartbreaking.
"Anakin, please," she begged. "I love you. That was never a lie."
"But everything else was?"
Her face scrunched up as she fought back tears. "I . . . I . . . Anakin . . ."
"She also played her part very well," Palpatine said. "She was to seduce you to our side."
There was a crack. It grew and grew until it started to shatter. Chip by chip is falling into a bottomless abyss that was his core. Everything hurt. Breathing hurt. Each breath was like a knife being stabbed into him and dragged slowly down his side. Each breath was wet and uneven.
"But I fell in love!" she burst out. The tears were now flowing freely down her face. "I love you. I truly and deeply love you! We can still be together! As a family! None of that has to end!"
Anakin's eyes briefly flicked down to her stomach.
"Now, you must hurry along. You have troops to prepare for," Palpatine said placing his hands on Padmé's shoulders. "Right, Lady Amidala?"
Padmé was still looking down at Anakin with tears gently rolling down her cheeks.
"Yes, Lord Sidious," she said softly. She gave Anakin one last look before she turned and walked away.
Sidious stayed. "Don't worry, my boy," Sidious said. "You two can continue to be a loving family after you've turned."
The dull grey light had faded away, so Anakin was cast in darkness. He couldn't see anything, that was if he bothered to actually focus his eyes on anything. He laid on the table still bound. His thoughts spinning and tumbling over each other.
Padmé. Padmé.
This whole time she had been a vampire? How had he never noticed? She went out in sunlight. She never smelled of blood.
I love you.
I love you, Ani.
It wasn't Padmé. It was his mother. Her neck and wrists bruised with puncture marks. Her skin pale. She held her small little boy tightly as they both laid on a thin blanket on a dirt floor. When he looked up at her, she was no longer his mother. It was Padmé sleeping soundly next to him in her bed back at her London house.
"Padmé?" he whispered. She didn't stir. "Padmé?"
Her eyes fluttered. He held his breath as she slowly woke up, but what should have been the big warm brown eyes he loved so dearly, were now nothing but pools of blood. The blood ran down her face as she smiled showing off the sharp fangs within her mouth.
"Anakin," she said. Her voice wet and distorted. "I love you, Anakin."
He screamed and tried to push himself away. His head flew backward and slammed against something hard and cold. He was back on the table in the dark domed room. His breathing was heavy and uneven. His body trembled.
"All this time," he muttered to himself. "All this time."
All this time she had been a vampire. The whole damned time. He was a Jedi Knight! A holy vessel chosen by God!
"You are the chosen one," Palpatine's voice echoed around him.
"No," Anakin said as he rocked his head from one side to the other. "No. No."
He wasn't. He wasn't anything. He wasn't chosen or special.
"You've been blessed by God," a voice he hadn't heard in over 13 years said. The voice of Qui-Gon Jinn. "You can be a holy knight, Anakin."
"It is a hard truth to swallow, my boy. To learn the very thing you hunt is the very thing that makes you so special," Palpatine's voice said.
"Lies," Anakin sobbed. "Lies. All of it. Lies."
"Anakin, please," she had begged. "I love you. That was never a lie."
It was a lie! It was all a lie! Her blood-stained lips, the lips he loved so much, were stained in human life.
"I love you. I truly and deeply love you!"
The sobs grew stronger. His whole body shook.
"Lies," he murmured to himself.
Slowly he lost himself to his memories, the lies, and tears.