Thank you for the reviews beautiful people – Skeletal Princess, Jessilee1027 and Guest (I've responded to your review at the bottom of the page).

"For in that sleep of death what dreams may come."

Shakespeare's Hamlet

The impact of a bullet through his torso caused Vlad to hit the damp concrete with a splat. A menacing, familiar figure he couldn't identify towered over him and spoke with a voice he couldn't recognise.

"Pure argentalium shells, cooled in liquid garlic – something that will get through even your thick skull."

Vlad's eyes widened as the barrel neared his head, trembling very slightly. As it did his foe titled their head to the side, answering something Vlad hadn't said.

"Again? These bullets didn't exist until two days ago. Just one of these through the brain will kill you."

Then they fired.

Physical existence shattered into a tornado. Memories, black grey and screeching like bats in a corkscrew shape around him. He could barely discern a sound from the din circling him.

"He's alive?"

The whirlwind of matter swirled faster, tightening its loop around the vampire. Vlad found himself pressing his hands to his ears in an attempt to the dim the noise.

"I love you."

He could no longer see images – there was only noise, dissonant, cacophonous caterwauling.

"You're not him!"

Finally, to his relief, Vlad found himself slipping into unconsciousness.

"Just let me be free."

Vlad sat bolt upright.

Immediately he was regretting it as his cheek burst into life. It was throbbing, nerves screaming so loud that Vlad thought he was going to faint again.

After several moments of rigid stillness the grey in his vision finally dulled to reality again. Raising a faintly shaking palm to the area of his face that felt like it was burning and ran pale fingers over the remnants of his cheek.

The cloth that had originally been resting on his cheek lay on his thigh, stained black from the vampiric ichor pouring out the wound. Immediately the area of contact began throbbing and Vlad's slender fingers trembled along strips of torn flesh. Jagged claws had sliced the skin on his cheek bone clean away in a shape of four and a fifth scrape had dragged a crescent moon shape down his jaw.

Ingrid had tried to murder him.

And he'd barely been able to stop it.

Even now his bones ached with the strain of their fight.

He supposed it could've gone worse: had she have tried this a fortnight ago it wouldn't have mattered that the stake shattered – she could've killed him any way she liked.

He was, like he'd spent the last several weeks, on the sofa in the throne room; Ingrid was nowhere in sight. She probably ran if she could've. Vlad had no idea if his reciprocal had, had the desired effect but apparently something had prevented Ingrid from killing him.

His thoughts drifted to his dream.

The closest thing he could liken it to was his old visions. He hadn't had one lately, perhaps due to better control and influence over these events, but this one had been unlike all of them.

It had been unclear, some he'd never really experienced. His premonitions from before were hyper real – like he was there but this time… It was like he'd been being ripped into a thousand pieces over and over and over by his own memories, past and future.

The door snapped open loudly, stunning Vlad out of his thoughts.

Miss McCauley gasped as her gaze immediately snapped to Vlad's cheek, stained black by his plasma.

Vlad shrugged sadly and explained with one word. "Ingrid."

His son was different. His son had always been different. Now however, he wasn't even vampire.

Renfield had explained what had become of Vlad – his insides were now lined with argentalium, a metal skeleton which protected him from everything while draining all his strength and even the strength of those around him.

It was irreversible – trying would most likely kill him. And Vlad would not recover. The only reason for his survival was the raw power being the Chosen One bought him and it was all that remained, barely maintaining his struggling unlife.

Count Dracula could not accept this. First a defective vampire and now a defective Chosen One? His son, a child he'd waited seven centuries for should not have been this.

He couldn't even bear to see him now. His pride and joy; his son was less than nothing, weaker than nothing. He wasn't a vampire any longer. The slayers had taken his greatest gift to vampire kind and stuffed it full of metal.

Just as the Count was about to gather up the courage to go and disown his son Renfield hurried in.

"Master, the council have arrived!"

Ingrid woke up with the knowledge that she had failed to kill Vlad, her brother hadn't gotten out unscathed but she knew he'd survived whatever wound she'd dealt him.

How was she supposed to know her brother was now stake-proof? It frustrated her immensely that when the moment came where he was unable to stop her killing him he somehow survived! How unfair was that?

Locked in her coffin, Ingrid huffed angrily - whatever the slayers had done... It may have stopped Vlad being able to do anything but it had also stopped her being able to kill him. Her eyes narrowed and glowed fire-red as she scowled at her coffin lid. She would not let Vlad get away with his breather-loving inaction this time. The second she was let out of her coffin - and she would be, even if it was due to Vlad's bleeding heart – she would destroy him whatever it took.

"Hmm..." She was inactive for several minutes, simply organising her thoughts.

"Hmmm..." She closed her eyes, sighing softly. Argentalium injected into her brother's bones? Who'd come up with that dumb idea? She would've preferred if they'd killed him rather than make her a brother a burden but a leader still.

Gently she pressed on the coffin lid, hearing the metallic clink of silver chains around her coffin. Ingrid must have been asleep for at least an hour or so; her internal clock had told her that much but she knew she wouldn't be getting out until everyone else was sure Vlad was no longer in danger. That was fine by her. She would outline her plants so she was in perfect preparedness when she was allowed out.

But that didn't stop her being angry they had the audacity to lock her away! A low growl escaped her throat just as she heard the clink jingle of argentalium chains. She froze, unsure whether it was friend or foe, waiting until the unknown individual left before pushing open the lid of her coffin.

"Ingrid!" Had she been not a princess of darkness Ingrid might have jumped but instead she calmly turned to her father and snarled "what?!"

Her father's eyes warily scanned her for a brief second, fleetingly pausing on a spot just below her jaw. Ingrid wondered if bore the marks of her fight with Vlad but was unable to think about that as her father sharply said "keep them busy!" Before flitting away.

Sorry I missed last week's update, my muse deserted me but I think I have found a new method of refilling my creativity.

In response to the guest review about bad Vlad, he won't be really appearing in this story to be honest but he will play a largish part in the sequel.