A/N: Firstly, I'd like to congratulate myself on getting 17 reviews on the last chapter. I'm very proud of myself. (Ignore the arrogance)
Secondly, I want you all to throw stones at me for writing such a short chapter. WAIT. Strike that! I'd rather you not.
I believe you all deserve an explanation regarding why it took me so long to actually give to write this ah... two, possibly three page chapter. A massive writer's block of doom reared it's ugly head dove into my mind and made itself right at home there! -le gasp- But not to worry! I was visited by a beloved muse last night, which would explain why I woke up at four in the morning with an undying need to write. So here I am, at five in the morning, writing... Huzzah!
And after that, go read Remember's excellent stories which I have neglected to read lately due to my need to punish myself so I would feel the need to write by not reading any Van Helsing fanfiction whatsoever! (Brilliant idea, eh?) SO. I apologize profusely to all who waited ever so patiently for me to R&R their stories. Especially Remember, seeing how she had just put me on her Best Reviewers list. -le sigh- NOT TO WORRY, I'll be sure to finish reviewing Eighth Deadliest Sin by the time I finish highschool!
NOW, on with the extremely short chapter!
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Amira did not sleep when morning finally reared it's annoyingly bright -and painful in Amira's case- head. She merely shut the curtains tightly until she was shrouded in darkness, then continued to do what she had been doing all night: Think. And get angry. And cry. And sulk. In that order.
It was funny, she had always thought that vampires just became unconscious or something when it was dawn. Of course, that was irrelevant, she was far too busy sulking at the moment to care about such trivial matters.
Almost immediately after Zane had left the room, Amira had begun to question Dracula's motives when he had saved her from Death's door. She desperately wanted to believe that Dracula had saved her because he loved her and could not bear to let her die, but that just lead her to take a glance at Dracula's character, which would then force her to realize that Dracula would never save her without a hidden motive. She would then proceed to get angry at herself for being so blind, then at Dracula for so obviously placing some spell over her so that she would become a fawning fool, and then at Zane for opening her eyes so abruptly to the truth. But... Being a fawning fool wasn't that bad. After that, she would cry until her eyes stung and her throat became hoarse from wailing so pitifully. Soon after she lost the energy to cry, she would curl into a ball and damn everyone who took part in this malicious scheme to the depths of hell. The reader may consider that Amira's version of sulking. And then the whole process would repeat itself over and over again.
However, it soon became such a monotonous cycle that she forced herself to not think about it at all. And her eyes hurt. A lot. Unfortunately, her mind wandered too easily, and it always lead back to one particular subject. Or rather, question.
Why?
Amira felt like there had to be some reason why Dracula would do such a terrible thing as to turn her into a creature of the undead. Other than to have her as some sort of... eternal pleasure slave. But Dracula wouldn't have bothered to marry her if that was the case. And then someone whispered in to her ear in such a soft, pleasant voice, that it made Amira want to trust the owner of the voice immediately.
Vengeance.
She recognized that word. And that voice. It was so familiar, and yet she could not place her finger on it. But now she had a lead; she knew that that word had to be relevant to Dracula's motive.
Vengeance. What was it? Not the word... she knew what that meant. But how was it relevant?
Vengeance.
What would he want to be vengeful for?
Vengeance. Why did I think of that? Amira raked her hand through her hair. When she pulled her hand away her dark brown curls tumbled forward. Curls. Curls like Anna's. She smiled at the thought. She had always liked that movie. Van Helsing. Anna Valerious was so pretty. And then it hit her. Hard.
Valerious. The last Valerious.
And it was as if those three words had triggered something in her mind. All her memories of her stay with Dracula flooded forward. She remembered everything, including the reason pertaining as to why she was kidnapped by Dracula in the first place. It was all the cause of vengeance. Vengeance on Amira's family due to some idiotic reason. Dracula didn't love her. He didn't love anyone with the exception of himself. He was a narcissistic bastard.
Something inside of Amira broke at that moment. Perhaps it was her heart. Amira couldn't quite be sure, because if it was truly her heart that broke with the realization that Dracula did not love her, then it would mean she loved Dracula. And that simply could not be the case. She hated him too much to love him. God how she hated him... She couldn't have loved Dracula...
But soon the hatred was overpowered by an even stronger emotion. Fury.
Dracula kidnapped her and seduced her. He had turned her into a monster. He took her away from the people she loved and threw her into a cruel world in which the only way to survive is to grovel at the feet of people whose powers are stronger than yours. He hurt her in so many ways. He manipulated her and toyed with her mind in order to exact something as trivial as vengeance for something that occurred nearly a century ago. Worst of all, and coming to this conclusion hurt her the most, he broke her heart. She couldn't deny it. She had loved Dracula, though she wasn't quite sure if that had just been Dracula implanting the feeling in her mind or if the feelings had been true. But it didn't matter anymore.
Amira stood up and stared without seeing at the wall opposite her as she clenched her fists together hard enough to draw blood from her sharp fingernails. But she didn't care. This pain was trivial compared to what her heart was feeling right now. And besides, it healed in an instant.
But then the familiar, musical voice whispered once more in her ear.
Vengeance will make the pain go away.
Her mind whirled around this idea. Vengeance? It would be sinking to Dracula's own level, but then again, he deserved it. He deserved it a thousand times over. Oh yes, and Amira would be the one to give it to him.
A malicious smile crept to Amira's features as she came to a conclusion.
She would kill Count Dracula. She would make him pay for everything he had done to her.
And with that notion branded in her mind, she strode out of her room in as dramatic a way as possible, allowing the doors to slam open and be knocked off their hinges to fall down to the stone floor.
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And as she walked away to do battle with Count Dracula, a man stepped from the shadows. A man with a pleasantly familiar musical voice. He had to hold back his laughter as he watched Amira stride so valiantly to meet her doom.
God, this is too easy.
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A/N: Oh god! This chapter is as short as the chapters in my beginner days! (Though hopefully better written).
Luckily for you, I've already written the next chapter, and it's much longer than this one, so you don't have to worry about waiting an extra nine billion days for the next chapter. I'll probably post it later this week. :D
On another note, please try hard not verbally bludgeon me for having Amira stumble so... ridiculously through figuring out that Dracula is infact a bastard.
If there are any editor's notes in there, please refrain from informing me of them. I'm far too lazy to actually go back and delete them. (And yes, I do realize there was one in the last chapter)
The inside of my mouth tastes like blood. Ew.