This story is really pitching headfirst into darkness; I know I adore dark themes but I wasn't actually intending for this to get quite as dark as normal.

I guess I'm just rather disturbing in general :3

I've added a new cover to the story; I guess that's the result of: me, boredom and art tools. :3

Thank you RavenBowie for such a long and awesome review! :)

His boots dragged on the concrete as he ambled down yet another alley, his mind raw from the constant attacks from his conscience. He'd mindlessly killed every vampire he'd come across so far and luckily there had been no other unfortunate casualties but he felt rather empty.

Vlad wondered if Erin had ever felt like this. His ex-lover was a touchy subject, even in his own mind but he had to wonder. What he did to Erin had never felt like murder and though his conscience was far from clear it hadn't been smeared with blood as it had now. Some vampricial instinct deep inside howled at him for letting a good meal go to waste, the majority of him howled that he'd murdered someone and should feel like a werewolf after a full moon – that is, shit.

Guilt was like a cancer, he'd decided. An unregulated growth that spread and spread until you needed to cut it away. He had always cut it away when it got to be too much and now he realised he had slowly been cutting away at himself. The parts that knew he was wrong. Just snipped right off the end of a growing string of black. He closed his eyes and let out a guilty sigh. Then a fist connected with his chin.

The force of the punch surely would've broken the jaw of any ordinary breather and flung Vlad backwards. He raised his head sharply to see another fist flying towards his skull. He ducked and jumped into a series of blocks and attacks against a burly vampire growling at him. His assailant had apparently been expecting to be hit with the full brunt of his martial arts knowledge as when he raised his leg in a particularly powerful kick someone grabbed his arms and knocked him off his feet. The bulky vampire that had attacked him first had luckily been thrown down the backstreet they were fighting on.

With effort he pulled his arm out the second vampire's grip and spun around the meet the oncoming attacks. The second vampire was obviously more experienced in combat and looked a lot more intelligent than his buddy too as his sweeping attacks forced Vlad to play it defensive. After several more swipes had been exchanged the first vampire evidently got back up again and joined the fray, forcing Vlad to fight on two sides. Between attacks Vlad found he had ample time to snap his fingers and incinerate the pair but decided against it; the thrill of the fight had made him feel more alive than he had in months.

He reached a small issue with not incinerating them though. He'd gotten the first vampire to the floor and found he had no stake, or any weapon other than his hands. Some vampirical conscience sounding very much like Bertrand growled something along the lines of ripping his opponent's heart out but Vlad really didn't want to do that. After a split second decision the beefy vampire turned to dust.

The second vampire circled him warily, eying up the fiery inferno of red, clutched in Vlad's pale fingers.

As Vlad exited the backstreet he brushed the stray dust off his clothes happily. For some reason killing vampires put him in a great mood. To be honest, it was just nice to get into a fight for once, mindless fight without a game of manipulation or the need to lie and trick and cheat.

He started to head back to Garside as the first lights of dawn shone over the horizon – he'd cut it rather fine and if any other vampire had tried it they'd probably be fried by the sunlight. As he sped back to Garside he noticed something rather odd.

He saw the bat fluttering around the school and he knew he didn't recognise it. Actually, he did recognise it, it wasn't a Dracula, that at least he could discern but he couldn't remember who it was.

So when the bat started to fly away from the school, Vlad followed.

It was a rather pleasant surprise when Erin's phone rang. She hadn't ever expected anyone to call her on her phone as she'd had about three people on her contacts and really the only reason she still had it was nostalgia. But someone had, she'd briefly put down her drink, checked the caller ID and her curiosity had peaked. That's why she was stood in a dimly lit alley by a pile of rubbish bags. She would've answered it in the bar if not for the drunkard who'd been drooling all over her.

She answered it with a smirk. "Never expected you to ring me," She didn't bother giving him a chance to speak. "I guess this isn't a social call? Or do you want to chat about old times?" She heard a choked noise down the receiver. "You realise I had a perfectly good meal waiting for me and if you don't talk soon I'm just going to hang up?" That was partially untrue – though she had a meal waiting for her an alcohol saturated ape was not exactly her idea of a good meal. She also was rather interested to hear what the slayer had to say even if her tone said indifferent.

The caller seemed to finally find his voice and start talking in a somewhat nervous tone. "I want your help."

Erin gave a small chuckle. "Well that's great; it's good to want things." She paused briefly to let her words sink in. "But I am currently enjoying every bar and utility Paris has to offer and to be honest I don't really want to help you – you seem boring."

There was a sigh. "I can help you get at Vlad."

Her smile widened, revealing fangs that Vlad had put there. "I'm listening."

So who do you think Erin was talking to? And who do you think Vlad's following?

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