A few corridors away, a tall demon stared out the window, at war with himself. As he gazed at the Night-o-Sphere, Feyerick listened to the monsters howling inside.

She usssed ussss

She dessservess to diiiiee

They allll mussst diiieee

WE are the Beloved sssson

They musssssssst diiiiiiiieee

Kiiilllll

KILL

WE are the Beloved….

Killl them allll

He choked suddenly, and a black glob dribbled down his chin. Feyerick wiped it away, rage building steadily.

How dare they usssssssurp our power

Our placccccccccccce

That weeeakling of a king shouldn't be on the throne

WE are the Beloved….

He arched his back, those four words echoing through his mind. With a guttural growl, he hunched over, black blood dripping from his gaping mouth. Horns ripped through the top of his skull, his hair falling in clumps. He coughed again, the skin around his mouth turning black. Hands twisting into deformed claws with murderous talons shooting out to be six inches long.

Feyerick howled a low angry sound. His skin was stained black, his clothes burnt off from the demonic aura gushing through his pores. What was left of the austere demon friend of Marshall was a terrifying creature. Black, leathery skin stretched tightly across bones, reflecting the light; ten horns rose above two empty sockets. A mouth opened wide to reveal an iron maw that sucked in the air. It hunched over itself, cradling its two arms close to its chest. The sound of a death rattle was constant; a rasping breath that sent shivers up the spine. It turned its great head to the window and crept up onto the sill. It scented the air before leaping down.

It landed on outside the castle gates, the ground turning black and dying at its touch. Turning back towards the Vampire Castle, it screamed. Starting in a high pitched keen, it echoed across the Night-o-Sphere, waking ancient demons, stirring great beasts that had slept since the last Great War of Darkness. It pierced the ears of every soulless horror that had been banished to the deepest pits. It howled one phrase in the Demonic Tones of old.

THE FORSAKEN SON HAS RISEN

"What was that." Marshall sat up straight, his hair mussed and lips bruised. Fionna pulled herself up as well, using his shoulders for leverage.

"What was what?" She kissed him softly on the corner of his mouth, but all he did was wrap his arms tightly around her waist. "Marshall?"

The vampire stared intently out the window, as if trying to see something. As he stared, his fangs elongated and wings tore through his shoulders. Fionna flinched closer to him, molding herself into his chest. Eyes growing red, a low growl reverberated from deep in his chest.

And then, quietly, so very softly, Marshall Lee the Vampire King hissed four words.

"The forsaken one wakes…."

Fionna gaped at him in terror. She shook his shoulders, trying to get him to snap out of it. "Marshall? Marshall! Marshall, wake up!"

He blinked and shook his head. "What…" He stared at Fionna for a second, wings shrinking and eyes returning to their normal black. "Fionna, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" He brushed her tears away, tenderly, as she described what happened. When she finished, Marshall frowned slightly. Sighing, he untangled himself from her and stood. "I'm sorry, Fionna, but I need to go talk to Feyerick." The human nodded quickly and stood as well.

"I'm gonna go hang with Marceline and Bubba, if I can't find them, I'll be in the library." She stood on her toes to kiss her vampire on the cheek, but Marshall pulled her close and placed a tender kiss on her lips.

"I love you," he murmured into her neck. She smiled as he vanished from the room.

"I love you too, Marmar."

High in her tower room, a distraught vampire stared morosely at her hands. Sniffling, Marceline stood and wiped her face. A knock sounded at her door and she croaked a soft enter.

Bubba's pink face peered around her door. His smile was quickly replaced by a worried frown. "Marceline, what's wrong?"

She looked up at the candy prince. His hands were occupied with a basket and he still stood a good four feet away, so he hadn't touched her, but why was her chest aching so?

Sighing, she smiled sadly at him. "I'm a horrible person," Bubba looked alarmed then angry as he walked over and tentatively sat next to her on the bed.

"I don't think you're a horrible person, Marceline." Setting the basket down, he twiddled his thumbs. "Why would you think that?" She shrugged and rubbed her forehead. "Seriously, why?"

"I don't know…It's…complicated…" they were silent for a moment. Bubba reached into the basket and pulled out a chocolate covered strawberry.

"Does it have to be?" He handed it to her and when she looked at him, he kept her gaze. The two stared at each other, time stretching to will this moment to last forever.

"I…I..." Marceline stuttered and found herself leaning towards him, gravity pulling the two closer together.

"MARCELINE," Whirling around, Bubba and Marceline saw Marshall standing in the door. They began scrabbling for an explanation but Marshall hushed them. "Marceline, we have a problem."