Like I've said before...this is what I wanted to happen after the FILM ended. It is a fanfic based on the FILM not the BOOK. Don't like, don't read.

Ps. Tulta munille is a reference to 'The Unknown Soldier.'

A roar erupted around the cavern sending dust flying. Above her, stalactites quivered and threatened to fall. Rose covered her head with her hands in anticipation of their fall but they remained fixed to the ceiling where they'd been for thousands of years already. Another cheer echoed throughout the labyrinth of caves. Rose counted it on her fingers. It was the third in only a few minutes; something must be going on. A buzz of excitement, similar to that of electricity, fizzed in the air. Rose could feel the vibrations traveling through the ground.

There was a sudden gust of wind and a flash of shadow as a body ran past the entrance to the chamber, momentarily blocking the light which came from a flaming torch on the wall outside. Laughter drifted away as the unseen Vampaneze danced down the corridor.

That's it.

Rose gathered herself and stood up, taking a deep breath as she did so. It was not uncommon for the Vampaneze to attack each other occasionally and she was certainly a prime target after the so called prophecy's words however Steve had not returned yet and the hum of excitement still lingered in the air like a swarm of bees overhead. She decided to investigate. If this were a film, the audience would be perched on the edges of their cinema seats begging the final girl not to step out into the deep, dark labyrinth where carnivorous creatures lurked in anticipation of their next meal. However this is not a film and Rose was not the stereotypical final girl. Teeth bared in a friendly warning, she flexed her fingers with their razor sharp nails and strode out into the hall.

The end of the hallway was alive with a buzz of activity. A small crowd had gathered but they had their backs to Rose and were far more interested in something else to bother her anyway. She crept onwards, curiosity driving her and strained to see what was interesting the other Vampaneze. A voice rang out over the heads of the crowd and reached her ears. It was Mr Tiny.

"Back! Back! Make way!" The crowd parted like the red sea as the large man elbowed his way through. Behind him, two Vampaneze were dragging what looked like a prisoner. His hands and feet were bound and a black sack hid his identity. Rose shrunk back into the shadows as the party passed her. As he reached the chained door to the dungeons, Mr Tiny paused and held up a fat hand.

"No one is to touch him!" he cried, "No blood shall be spilled until dawn!" A great cry erupted and Mr Tiny had to strain to be heard.

"We have successfully captured the vampire lord and in a few hours he will die at the hands of our own!" Rose's gasp of realization and anguish was lost in the various battle cries of the Vampaneze.

"Death to Vampires!"

"Long live the Vampaneze!"

"Tulta munille!"

There were a few titters at the last one. Having sensed he had stopped, Darren kicked out with bound legs and tried to wriggle out of the Vampaneze's firm grasp. His feeble attempt at freedom was met with a growl and the woman dragged her nails across his bare arm. At the sight of fresh blood, the gathering crowd advanced, teeth bared, bony fingers flexing. Mr Tiny sensed the danger and grabbed the boy himself.

"Thank you Lillith," he snapped as the woman opened her mouth to complain, "he shall remain in the dungeons until dawn. Zander, Lucard...if you please?" The iron bolted door was wrenched open by two burly Vampaneze and Darren was kicked down the stone steps. His captures followed gleefully.

"And now," yelled Mr Tiny over the wall of sound, "let us prepare the Great Hall!" The dungeon door swung shut behind him with a clang. The crowd dispersed and in small groups, the Vampaneze made their way to the Great Hall. Rose watched fearfully as they passed but not one spared her a second glance. The energy amongst them was so alive it was driving them onwards. They were excited. Leading the way, the bald and shiny head of Mr Tiny was barely visible bobbing around the corner. He was in fact quite a short man but he had a way of standing tall and straight which fooled others into thinking he was taller than he was.

As the last of the Vampaneze disappeared, Rose found herself staring at the cold metal door. It wasn't locked; it didn't need to be. No one could possibly want to enter the foul smelling dungeons and if they did, it wasn't by choice. However it looked as though Mr Griefstrike and Mr Dreadweep were the only wardens currently on guard, the others having followed Mr Tiny to the Great Hall. Her imagination filled itself with images of a disguise but common sense reminded her that a Vampaneze's sense of smell was sharper than his eyesight. A hooded robe might hide her identity but the stink of fear would certainly betray her. Suddenly a loud reverberation caused her heart to skip. The door handle turned again and swung open. In a space shorter than a second, Rose managed to clear the distance between her and the nearest plinth, pure terror pushing her and she hid behind it. Fortunately the rising excitement still loitering in the air dulled the Vampaneze's sense of smell and they failed to notice the double-headed placid bust.

Their echoing footsteps were replaced by those of Rose as she crept over to the intimidating door and wrenched it open. The door did not creak, suggesting it was oiled often due to regular use. It shut just as silently behind her, it's narrow window allowing only a faint glow of light through. Feeling her way down the steps, Rose soon landed in what felt like a foyer. There was a cold draught and a slit of light lying on the floor like a ruler betrayed a door. Extending an uncertain hand toward it, she felt the coldness of stainless steel. It was the door to the dungeons.

Well it's certain death in either direction, she reasoned and with that consoling thought in mind, Rose lent against the door and pushed it open and looked into the startled eyes of a young Vampaneze. Damn, thought Rose, they've obviously left the novice on guard. The Vampaneze however looked young and nervous and she was fairly certain she could overpower him if need be. He bared his teeth in what he hoped was a threatening manner but Rose elbowed him out the way arrogantly and strode onwards. She was already learning that if you ignore the rules people will, half the time, quietly rewrite them so that they don't apply to you.

Soon the only sounds this far underground were that of her own footsteps and the rustlings of rats. Sometimes something uttered the odd whimper but it sounded half-hearted like the poor creature had already accepted death but was trying at least to keep up appearances. Most of the cell doors were left open with nothing inside. The Vampaneze rarely kept prisoners. They were greedy and preferred an instant kill. Finally though, a closed door presented itself. A small square window displayed a hunched figure rocking in the corner. At the sound of the chains around the handle, it looked up but it's features were hidden in shadow. Rose let go off the chains and stepped back from the door. There was no guarantee that the prisoner in there was Darren but if it was, Rose knew that time was running out. She grabbed the executioners mask that Darren had been wearing last time she saw him and pulled it on. It had been hanging on a hook by the door. Covering her identity, it offered her no protection and very little comfort but she felt better with it on.

"I'm coming in," she said gruffly, grabbing the chain. The slightest pressure reduced it to dust which slipped through her cold fingers and lay at her feet. The door swung inwards.

"Whassat?" said a familiar voice. Darren tried to look up but his heavy head drooped. Rose ran to his side.

"Darren? Darren, can you hear me?" The darkness concealed his face but Rose's fingers found the cuts and blood on his face.

"Who? Who is it? Who are you?" Darren seemed to be struggling to get his words out and Rose figured he was probably to stressed to deal with anything else. If she told him her name he might refuse to let her help him, the untrusting fool.

"My name is irrelevant," she said.

"That's a pretty name," said Darren who still hadn't got over his concussion. Rose helped him to his feet and steadied him.

"I'm going to get you out of here," she promised, disguising her voice. Darren's curious hand found her cheek.

"Who are you? Really?" he asked. Rose removed his hand with her own.

"Stop it," she whispered, "Come one. There isn't much time." She tried to pull the boy forward but his feet seemed rooted to the floor.

"I know that voice, I recognize your voice..." he twisted round to face Rose, stumbling in the process and outstretched a hand to feel her features again.

"Stop it!" Rose repeated. She propped him up again.

"Rose?" There was a creak but Rose ignored it. Her back to the door, she faced the darkness of the cell and the boy within.

"Yes, all right, it is me," she snapped, "but listen, we don't have time!" The figure swayed in the shadows.

"Rose?"

"Yes, we've established that. I'm going to try and get us both out of here alive, yeah? But I need you to co-operate. The guards will be back soon."

"Rose!"

"WHAT?" There was a crack followed by a dull thud as Rose sank to her knees and then hit the floor. A hand grabbed Darren's collar and dragged him forward. He tripped over the girl's body and into the arms of foul-smelling Vampaneze.

"It's time to go, vampire," it sneered.

"What shall I do with this one Lucard?" said the other, giving Rose a kick.

"Tie her up, we'll deal with her later."

"Can't I have her?" whined the second guard, replacing the burnt out torch in it's holster.

"Nah, Rosie's not too bad. I reckon she deserves a few more hours of life at least. I'll tell you what, I'll ask Mr Tiny and see if you can drain her later on though, yeah?"

"Yeah, thanks mate." The two Vampaneze left the cell, locking the door behind them. Darren allowed himself to be led away, watching the key to his old cell being tossed aside with a sullen expression. The clang of the door shutting had a final sound about it not unlike the closing of a coffin lid or the sealing of a tomb. Darren spared a quick glance over his shoulder as he was led towards his death but the door remained very definitely closed.