After a particularly brutal battle with Metallo, a severely bruised and battered Supergirl crashed through the roof of a secluded gothic mansion, nestled within the vast sea of old growth forests covering the New England countryside.
The consequences of her particularly rough landing ending against the side of cast iron claw bathtub proved to be severe and she began to loose consciousness, as the lingering effects of massive kryptonite exposure continued to spider through her weakened body's circulatory system.
Little did she now that lurking within the decaying structure's walls, cursed to forever wander the dilapidated hallways all alone, was the the world's last surviving vampire.
Lena Luthor, the half-blooded immortal matriarch of the Luthor vampire clan, had been alone for so long, that she's stopped keeping track of the meaningless passage of time. After her extended period of isolation, she feared that depression and loneliness must have robbed her of what little sanity her hyper predatory race was able to posses.
When she heard the loud tearing of splintering wood, followed by the clatter of particles of disintegrating plaster spreading over a ceramic tile floor, she had no choice but to investigate.
She had no way of knowing that her miserable life was about to change forever.
Story
Lena Luthor couldn't shake the feeling that something about that sound was different. Its proximity was much closer than the others had been. Close enough to be almost defeating to her hypersensitive hearing. Near enough that it had caused the very walls of the accursed mansion to tremble in response.
In the moments preceding the mysterious crashing noise, she'd heard the sounds of people yelling somewhere in the distance. There'd been the telltale grunts and thuds of hand to hand combat, which had somehow reverberated powerfully enough through the air that she'd been able to take note of their presence, even within her sheltered refuge inside the tomb beneath the basement.
Strangely enough, the implied combatants seemed to have engaged in their epic physical contest while aloft in the sky, or at least the echo's of their activities had made it seem that way to her. That had to be impossible. Even a being as mighty as a vampire matriarch lacked the power of flight.
She assumed that the reverberations of sound were simply a fantastical product of her desperate, lonely, and foolish imagination; not coming from a source somewhere within the realm of the real.
Lena was quickly forced to reevaluate her conclusion when she heard the crashing noise erupt, followed by the shaking of the marble walls surrounding her location, deep within the catacombs.
The vampire effortlessly removed the marble slab that had only seconds before been enclosing her within her frequent place of solitary contemplation.
She called upon her what remained of her formerly immense well of dark powers, infusing her disused muscles with a sinister performance increase. Lines of blackness spidered outward from her jet black eyes. The muscle, sinew, and tendons throughout her body detonated with renewed vigor.
She burst forth from her coffin with a blur. Her movement through the pitch black tunnels of the mansion's catacombs was as swift as it was silent.
What was left of her wicked heart sang with absolute revelry at the demonstration of her returned strength. It felt good to know that she still had it, even if she rarely had cause to use her power to move throughout her decaying mansion prison.
It only took a few moments for her to reach the top of the stairway terminating at the chateau's third floor.
Upon her arrival, she was suddenly overtaken by the delicious aroma of freshly spilled blood. It had been actual decades since she'd experienced the privilege of smelling that uniquely metallic aroma. Even better was the fact that in this particular case, whomever was the source of the delectable scent had blood that emanated an intriguing combination of a slightly charred smell, with a hit of spice that hung suspended in the musty air.
Her body reacted instinctually to the odor.
A subtle cracking sound could be heard as her jaw fully expanded for the first time in half a century. Her already prominent ivory canines presented even more proudly. The saliva pooled in her mouth in anticipation of a hearty meal.
Her head arched backwards, fearlessly displaying her slender porcelain neck, which lead to a prominently chiseled jawline. She instinctually sniffed the air, her nose crinkling with each deep breath inwards. She quickly zeroed in on the luscious scent of a recent injury.
She wasn't able to move as supernaturally quickly in the diffused light as she had in the total darkness. But that didn't stop her from sprinting far faster than what any human would naturally be capable of.
Around two lefthand corners she spotted her prize. The white ceramic tiles that covered the floor of the third floor bathroom were covered in pools of richly fragrant redness. She didn't even take the time to apprise herself of the source of the blood, before she was surging forward and leapt head first into the nearest puddle.
As soon as the crimson nectar touched her tongue, she knew that she'd somehow made a terrible mistake. Something was very wrong with the source of this blood, because it was beyond disgusting. Its now suddenly rancid odor permeated every crevice of her sinus cavity. The heavy flavor was foul, rotten even. It was the worse thing she'd ever tasted.
Her body gave her no choice but to forcibly evacuate the offending fluid from her person. After she'd spit up every particle of the blood she thought possible, she let herself fall backwards against the wall of the bathroom, which was covered in the same white tiles as the floor. She coughed as she sank into a sitting position, legs splayed out frontwards, head and back leaned against the solid surface.
She covered her hand over her mouth as she hacked out several wet wheezes. After her coughing fit, she pulled her elegant hand back from her face, and saw drops of the putrid blood on her skin.
Upon closer inspection, she noticed that the blood was somehow glowing a subtle green color. The effect was slight. A normal human probably wouldn't have been able to notice, but thanks to Lena's increased visual acuity, she was just able to discern the presence of some sort of verdant contamination. She couldn't help but hypothesize that whatever had made the blood slightly luminescent, was probably responsible for why it tasted so foul.
This buffet of fresh blood before her was in fact nothing more than a cruel joke. Its presence now serving only to remind her that she would likely never have the opportunity to taste blood freely given from a person ever again.
Damn her rotten luck. And fuck this prison that she'd been sentenced to for all eternity.
"Argh…"
The surprise utterance of a panful groan shook Lena from her despondency. She turned her head to the far side of the room, towards the white porcelain coated cast iron claw food tub that she knew sat in the corner.
"O my gods!" Lena gasped as she finally beheld the source of all the tainted blood.
Splayed on the floor before her was the massive form of a blonde woman. A river of golden strands of hair spread outwards onto the white and into the red. Her eyes were closed, indicating that she was likely unconscious from her fall, but Lena made note that the woman's face was contorted into a pained grimace. Next the vampire saw that there appeared to be glowing strands of emerald snaking their way through the woman's veins, just below the surface of her cream colored skin.
The goddess made flesh appeared to be dressed in incredibly bizarre attire, colored both a royal blue and cherry red. Most obvious was the large yellow iconography of an "S," prominently displayed across the woman's bust.
The longer Lena looked, the more she became aware that this woman, whoever she must be, had to be a titan of physicality. Each one of her muscles, from her her biceps and downwards to her thighs, was tremendously proud. Her shoulders were broad. Judging by the large area that her uncoiled form occupied on the floor, she had to be every bit of six feet tall, a full six inches taller than Lena.
The blonde stranger was every bit the lioness when compared to the raven hared woman's alley cat.
Who was she, Lena pondered. Was this figure some avenging angle, fallen from the sky, and on a mission to smite the evil that was the last remaining vampire in the land? Could her purpose be to punish Lena for her family's centuries of murder and mayhem?
Ice surged through the vampire's veins at the thought, replacing the fire from the bloodlust that had emboldened her only moments before.
For the first time in a long time, Lena Luthor felt the fear that resulted from being intimidated.
Again, the mysterious stranger let out a wounded, "argh." She appeared to be trying to move or maybe to speak, but was unable to summon the strength due to her injuries.
It was then that the vampire matriarch noticed that the bathroom's tub had a humungous dent on its side. The thick porcelain coating was cracked and the cast iron was bent inwards, in a shape that looked strangely like the blonde woman's face.
Lena was at a total loss for what to do. How was she supposed to proceed when faced with such unforeseen circumstances?
This perfect vision of femininity laying helpless before her … no, this stranger was trespassing in what had become the vampire's sanctum. Sure, she was unable to leave because of a curse that the townspeople had inflicted upon her over a century ago, but still, she'd made the best of a bad situation. Now this woman was disrupting her peace and quiet. The audacity!
The vampire gathered her resolve, indicating her renewed determination to dispel this invader with a determined puff of breath through her nose.
She awkwardly rose to a sitting position by bracing herself against the wall. Her vampiric abilities almost completely negated, due to the presence of direct sunlight that was currently beaming through the now massive whole in the mansion's roof.
Lena slowly shuffled over to the body laid before her. The tingle of the tainted blood still on her lips reminded her that only minutes before, she'd tried to feed from the pools of crimson that had been expelled from this woman's injuries.
The closer the got, the more the vampire could smell the woman's unique scent. It was surprising subtle, with floral hints and a citrus finish. It was very cute and frustratingly sweet.
A pale hand slowly reached out towards the woman's still contorted face. Long pale fingers uncurling themselves hesitantly.
The very instant sharp black finger nails made contact with the bruised skin that covered the woman's face, her cerulean eyes sprang open, startling the Luthor into emitting an undignified, "Yeewp!" Then she jerked her hand backwards and away from the inevitable impending wrath of this disabled demigod.
But the divine judgement and damnation to hellfire that Lena expected didn't come. Instead, the woman languished through a few blinks, then rose her shaky right hand and extended it towards the confused vampire. The blonde then whispered, in garbled broken speech, "pplease … elp … me."
After the herculean effort of talking, the stranger promptly passed out. Her head landing with a thud on its return to the floor.
Lena slumped her shoulders, bowed her head, and let out an indignant huff. Apparently the universe had seen fit to task her, the last living vampire, a vicious blood thirsty ambush predator, with giving life saving first aid to an injured fallen angel.
Would her torments never cease? Would she forever being paying for her past mistakes?
She braced herself. It was time to get to work she supposed.