"Hm."

The large man with skin the same shade as mahogany crouched over a pool of blood, his gloved hands dipping into the liquid as he lifted them up to his nose, sniffing at the crimson liquid. 

"Teach'... what exactly are you doing?" Another person, an equally tall though somewhat lanky woman who wore a dark face mask asked, leaning against the nearby wall as she carried a sniper rifle. "You're acting like a Vamp..."

The man narrowed his eyes, though there was little animosity in them as he chuckled, "You're lucky I like you. Listen. The blood of each individual smells different. It disgusts me that I can tell the difference between them, but all the same, it proves useful."

"Man, we should start calling you bloodhound, Quincy!" A third one, a short, stout man, smirked. He was smoking a cigarette, the smoke trailing outside an open window.

"Hah, that's actually pretty good." Quincy smirked, wiping his hands as he stood, "Here's what I'm guessing went down. The owner was killed first, her blood is the oldest. Next, the old man, and then the girl. A while went by until the General's daughter came down, where she was taken captive by the Vampire. She lured it close, waited, and staked it through the heart... She's smart, though. Wasn't sure if it was a Turned or True Blood. She made sure to destroy the brain."

"Kid ain't bad, that's for sure... Even if it was a silver knife, breaking through the bone without any Aura? Must run in the family, eh?" The short man tossed his cigarette to the ground, putting it out with his boot.

"Sure. That's the exact reason that once we catch up to her, I'm gonna have her join Enforcer Training with the rest of you."

"Yeah, dunno if the council is gonna allow that..." The masked woman shrugged, "You do know she's a fugitive now, right...?"

"And?"

"You really are insane, you know that? Kay, what actually led the Vamp here, though? This place is in the middle of nowhere."

"A gunshot, probably. Or, the smell of blood... There's still the mystery of how that kid upstairs died, or, who killed him... Ah, learning experience. Kazan? Rizei? What do you believe happened?"

"Ooo! Ooo!" The short man, Kazan, raised his hand, "My bet is on the owner. She had a bad reputation for being a Vampire sympathizer– From the report, she gave asylum to some Bloodstarved ones a few years back, right? Som maybe she wanted to get some innocent people flatlined? Or… was trying to feed some Vamp?"

Rizei huffed, lowering her eyebrows, "No way that's true. Makes no sense... The kid was shot with a high caliber silver round. The only ammo in here are buck shots. Besides, the owner was killed by the Vamp. Why the hell would it do that, if the owner was working for it?"

"Ah, perhaps she got bored of her?" Quincy smiled a bit, raising the question to further Rizei's conclusions.

"Doubt it. Most Turned we've seen don't kill their thralls unless they're starving. They’re emotionless, pretty much fully logical. If the owner was supplying her, the Vamp would never kill her."

"Good. Go on."

"Okay, then... the kid was in the room we've deduced Rosa took. It's the only one with the key taken... I might be crazy, but I think she may have killed him. The bullet was a standard military round, after all..."

"Hah, not crazy at all." Quincy chuckled, "That's the conclusion I've come to as well. Now, why would she kill him?"

"He was a merc. Got the Scav patch on his vest," Kazan spoke up, a tad annoyed he was being ignored. "Probably wanted the bounty on her."

"And with your intelligence combined, you've come to the correct solution. Congratulations, my dear students. Now, let's move." Quincy stepped back from the bodies, "The blood is around two days old. We'll need to catch up to her quickly before we lose her track.”

"Right, sir!"

With but a word, the two students made their way back to the large truck where the rest of the group awaited. The convoy was made up of two armored vehicles, three motorcycles, and a large cargo truck following in the rear. A strange sight, especially for a mission such as theirs.

But, then again, the Enforcer who led the group was an odd man himself: Quincy Vesper. In the Enforcer hierarchy, he was ranked four out of the total ten there were now; The Council's Hounds was a common moniker granted upon them, though not often out of respect. After all, there were only two entities that could order them.

The General herself, and the council upon a vote. 

Quincy hummed as he walked slower than the rest, lost in thought. "It was easy convincing the General... and then all it took was making the fool on the council who owed me a favour to order her taken alive... Heh... Someone who doesn't understand me might be confused why I'd go through all the trouble."

He stopped for a moment, his eyes gazing up at the bright sun as he spoke out loud, almost as if someone else was listening.

"If it's to kill more Vampires, anything. I'll kill god himself if I need to."

 

--

 

Blood.

Elsie looked forward at nothing in particular, her eyes dull as her hair was brushed. She enjoyed the feeling, though she couldn't find any words to express that. Not after what she did just a week ago.

The scent was overpowering. Constant. It never left, it never once subsided even the smallest bit. Sickly sweet, thought-dulling in its tempting nature.

Mina was skilled, each brush never once tugging or hurting. Each movement was smooth, like a gentle, flowing river.

She wanted to dig her fangs into her neck even now. Each moment that went by the urge only multiplied. She wanted to taste her, drink her, consume her, savor the taste of her flesh and blood and–

"I'm done… Elsie." Mina placed the brush down, her tone low and calm. It was a practiced calmness. A practiced smile. A mask she had worn, lost, and put back on.

"Okay." Elsie turned her head slightly, looking at Mina. Her crimson eyes dilated the moment she laid her gaze upon her, all the freezing blood in her body rushing towards her head with the only purpose of keeping her alive until she could feed.  "... Thank you."

Elsie stood up, forcing her hands to stop twitching and to stay at her side. "Please, there is no need to thank me."

"..." Elsie's breath quickened upon hearing her words, her lips parting slightly.

"I'll be leaving, then, if that's what you wish. Have a nice day–"

As Mina turned to leave, Elsie suddenly grabbed her shoulder, her hand trembling in a way that could only be interpreted as fear, or holding oneself back.

"Mina, I–” Her eyes closed for a moment as her grip tightened upon Mina, “Stay. Please. I need to talk to you for a moment."

"Ah, um, yes. Of course..."

As Mina closed the door, the scent of her blood only grew stronger as her heart raced. Every cell in her body longed to pounce upon her, and it took a will incomparable to even giving up her life to defend against.

With a deep breath in, Elsie sat down on the edge of her bed, crossing her legs at the ankles. She placed her hands on her knees, avoiding eye contact with her as she took a deep breath in. "I... I wanted to say sorry for a while now, Mina." Elsie began, her voice quiet and strained, "For what I said back then."

"No, don’t… You don't need to apologize, Elsie." Mina lowered her head as she sat next to her, closing her eyes, "I understand. It was all my fault, really. I... forgot my place. You made your decision of not drinking blood clear, but I... I am a foolish servant, truly."

Without warning, Elsie took Mina's hand into her own, finally meeting her gaze, "I'm not talking to a servant right now, Mina... I'm talking to my friend. A friend I treated... horribly. It's not your fault... You were only trying to help."

Mina's cheeks flushed ever so slightly as Elsie held her hand, her expression torn, "But– but, I was... I was being selfish, too. I wanted–"

"You wanted me to be safe. I... I see that now. You just didn't want me to get hurt." Elsie blinked down, her fingers wrapping around Mina's, "I'm sorry, Mina. I'm so sorry. For what I said, for... everything."

"E-Elsie... you– I..." Mina gulped, unable to hide her nervousness as Elsie touched her. She hated how much she loved it, just as much as she hated the feeling that would well up inside her whenever her eyes met hers. 

It was wrong, and she needed to stop being selfish. Elsie needed a friend, not romance. And, she wouldn't dare go between her and the one she truly loved... As such, she would bury those feelings as deep as she needed to. Until they would never show themselves. Never again.

She only wished she wasn’t such a hypocrite. Such a craven.

"Mina, I..." Elsie's breath hitched as she realized how close the other was. She could feel her cold skin. Feel her heartbeat and how every pulse pushed her vampiric blood around her body.

Her fangs protruded somewhat, her mouth opening as she leaned forward.

It was impossible not to.

Mina's heart raced faster and faster. Everything about her was simply intoxicating, from her words to her scent. 

"Elsie, wait–" Mina couldn't speak over the feeling of her heart pounding in her chest, her face turning a bright red. She wasn't scared of what she might do, but that Elsie might torment herself over this if she did go through with it. She was scared of the pain she might cause herself.

"... You were right, back then. You didn’t... didn't think I was an... an animal. But, I... I'm so, so scared." Elsie whispered, her hands holding Mina's arms as she moved closer and closer. She felt the slight twinge of wetness upon her eyes. "... It just gets– it just gets worse and worse every day... I'm terrified. I'm scared I'll lose control again... and I'm scared that I won't stop myself next time."

Mina's hands reached for Elsie's back, slowly moving into a hug as Elsie's forehead leaned against hers, "... You'd still be you. You don't need to do anything now, but... please don't give up on yourself. If not for yourself, then instead..." Mina leaned back for a moment, giving her a reassuring smile. A smile that hid the pain she felt as she said the words, "Do it so that you might see the one you love again. So that she can see you again.”

Seeing Elsie's reaction to her words almost made her jealous. 

"... I... I–" Elsie's lip trembled as she tried to form words, her tears slowly rolling down her cheek. Her hands moved up, resting on Mina's shoulders as her fingers wrapped around the fabric of her shirt. "I miss her... Fuck... I-I miss her so... so much."

Mina wrapped her arms around her, slowly, and only once Elsie allowed it. "You'll see her again,  Elsie. I know you will."

And for that gentle moment, she could not smell the scent of blood.

–

Lieutenant Ramirez, a seasoned commander with a gaze hardened by years of battling the nocturnal menace, wasn't a man of pride. No, never once would he act in a way that could be construed as arrogance. He was a soldier through and through, and a good one at that. He was an expert at following orders and giving them, a near perfect shot, and a master tactician.

That was what they told him. His higher ups, his subordinates, citizens. Everyone.

However, when he was offered a promotion to Major after the attack on Sanctuary, he refused it. He was happy being a Lieutenant. Being able to command a platoon was more than enough for him. 

That is what he told them.

He was offered a promotion. To a position he always desired, always strived for, a position he had rightfully earned.

And he turned it down, for one horrible, horrible reason:

He knew now that he was not worthy.

As he stood in front of the graves, his hat off and his eyes down, his surviving men did the same behind him.

There were once seventy four of them. Thirteen remained.

Or, thirteen that were alive and breathing. Only eleven were still in the army.

"Burial service will soon begin... If you have any words, please, come up. Otherwise, salute." The funeral director spoke, her sunken eyes dull and hands clasped together, "First, however...  General Cyra de Varano will be giving a speech."

At that, the crowd of soldiers and friends of the deceased straightened up. All were saluting.

A black haired woman walked to the podium, her expression blank. Her uniform was clean, perfectly kept without a wrinkle in sight. It was an ink black even darker than her hair, the only contrast being the golden bars and insignia's upon it; A befitting outfit for a woman of high rank. The highest rank.

"Ninety four years,” She began, her gaze straight upon the audience. “For ninety four years, Sanctuary has been our home, our refuge. For ninety four years, it has been Humanity's only light in this ever growing darkness."

Her voice was loud, and even more than that, powerful.

"We have fought for these ninety four years. We have sacrificed. We have bled. We have died, and, yet, we still stand. No matter the odds, nor the horrors of which have been thrown our way, we have persevered. It is because of the efforts of all those here today, living and dead, that we stand. That we live on despite all the pain, suffering, and tragedy. Today is a day we will mourn. But, tomorrow, we will stand up stronger than ever before."

A strong wind blew through the cemetery, the trees without a single leaf upon their wooden branches shaking as her speech continued.

"We will stand, and we will make those who took the precious lives of our friends, our family, and our lovers pay. So now, I speak not to you, my fellow humans, my allies. I speak instead to the damnable leeches that have dared threaten our lives for thousands of years, that have spilled the blood of those who we love. I speak to you, Vampires." Her eyes narrowed, her hands clenching the podium as she raised her voice. It was like a torrent, a wave of emotion coming forth all at once, "This is the beginning of the end. No more shall we hide behind our walls! No longer shall we wait for another attack, praying they don't get through! No more do we allow this scourge upon our planet! No more shall Nosferatu, and all its Vampiric inhabitants be allowed to exist! Not one moment longer!"

The crowd began to clap, slowly, though they soon grew into applause. The General didn't smile, however, and as soon as the clapping subsided, she looked down.

"For one-hundred and ninety years, we have been at war. For seven generations of Humanity, we have been at war." She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, "And the seventh generation shall be the last to exist in this world of war. The final one. Because, no matter the cost, we will take the fight to their homes. No matter the cost, we will kill each and every single Vamp. No matter the cost, we will win. That is my decision, the Council's decision, Humanity's decision! For we shall take back our destiny for good!"

She began to back up, looking up to the sunlit sky, "Today, we do not just say goodbye to our fallen. Today, we say goodbye to our fear. Today, we will forever say goodbye to the night." She took one more step back, raising one arm into the air, her fist clenched, "We will see them again. We will see the ones we love again when Humanity has taken back its rightful place!"

As the General turned around, the audience once again erupted into claps, to cheer, to cries of determination and rage.

Ramirez, however, only saluted, his eyes cold and his lips pressed thin.

The funeral director waited until the applause subsided, clearing her throat before continuing.

"The podium is now open. Please, come and wait in an orderly and calm fashion. Remember, no more than five minutes."

Ramirez's hands slowly clenched as he made his way forward, the first in line. Two people followed. A young woman, a rookie named Kari, and an older man named Clyde. 

Clyde was a man Ramirez knew well. After all, he was the Second-Lieutenant in their platoon, his right hand man. He was a skilled man, and an even better shot. He was always a bit on the quiet side, but a loyal soldier all the same.

A man Ramirez respected. Perhaps more than himself.

As Ramirez made his way to the stage, the two stood straight behind him.

"I am Lieutenant Imeldo Ramirez…” He paused. “No. Today, I am just Imeldo Ramirez." He shook his head, his hands firmly placed on the podium as he spoke into the microphone, "I am the commanding officer of the sixth platoon, a position I have held with honor for over six years now. I was proud of that. I was proud of the soldiers who served under me. Proud to fight beside them. But, now, I stand here, with many of the people I grew to know, to care about... dead. I should have died, too. I should be six feet below you all, and yet, here I stand."

Ramirez's expression hardened, his gaze sharp upon the crowd. He knew many of the people who stared up at him. Right now, he wished he didn't.

"But, despite the fact I live, I know that I am dead. Because..." He paused, looking down for a moment as his breath caught in his throat, "... Because, the man that stands before you today, is not Imeldo Ramirez. Imeldo Ramirez is dead, dead and buried along with those who have fallen. The man that stands here now is a ghost, an apparition... and so, now, I say goodbye to Imeldo Ramirez... to my name... to the man I was."

He looked out at the crowd, his voice wavering as he spoke, his hand trembling.

"And I say hello to Ramirez. Simply Lieutenant Ramirez."

With that, he backed away, his head down as he made his way back.

"Second Lieutenant Clyde Drescher. I... had a speech, a long one. A boring one. But after that? No. My words would be empty. So, I will simply say... thank you, Lieutenant Ramirez." He sighed, walking to the podium, "And thank you the thousands who died. For your sacrifice... We... we will see you again."

The man's words were short, concise. And yet, as he stepped back, his expression was filled with sorrow. More than he had ever shown before.

Kari stepped forward, her expression grim. "I... had a friend. Dario. He was a dick... a bit of a brute, really, but..." She paused, swallowing, "He was my best friend. He was a good man. And... he died protecting me. Protecting the wounded."

Kari took a sharp breath in, "... I'm sorry. I'm not good at this. I... I won't ever forget what he did. I won't forget how he gave his life to protect ours... I'll kill all of them. All of the Vampires… The Monsters that did this… I promise you, Dario. I promise.”

With a quick salute, she turned away, making her way down.

The next person to come up to the podium was an elderly man, his back hunched and his hair thinning. His short, scraggly beard was dyed brown to hide the graying and his skin wrinkled, but his eyes were the opposite. They were a bright blue, filled with an uncanny determination.

"My name... is Doctor William Seward. I have dedicated my entire life to treating the injured, the sick... I have studied all there is to know of medicine. To the study of life itself." He leaned against the podium, his hands gripping the edges both to support himself physically and mentally, "I have never once been one for violence, I took an oath to do the very opposite... and yet, I stand before you, wishing nothing more than to have my hands covered in the blood of the creatures that did this. And... I am not ashamed of it. Because, while I may be a doctor... I am also a man. A man who loved his daughter. A man whose heart was torn from his chest when he heard his daughter had been killed that night. That her body was mutilated. That she had suffered and bled and died... alone."

William gritted his teeth, his expression darkening, "Once upon a time, I was against the idea of fighting back head on... to take the fight to the dwelling of these Monsters... but, no longer. No longer shall I wait for them to attack us again... No longer will I allow a parent to bury their own child. I have dedicated my life to saving others... Now, I dedicate what is left of my life, however long that is, to ending them. To put an end to their disgusting, horrid species for good."

As he finished speaking, his eyes moved to the crowd. His voice was somehow both harsh and soft. "That is my promise, to all the loved ones we lost. The people I will never be able to meet. I will do what I should have done long ago. I will work with the Sunfire Task Force to learn every last way to kill these beasts. To make their eradication an inevitable future."

There were a few claps, though the applause was subdued, and most people remained silent. Still, his words seemed to reach every last person in the crowd.

As William slowly walked down the stage, the next person took his place.

This man was a giant, a muscular mass of a person who's very presence demanded respect, perhaps out of both fear and reputation. The very same man that was the subject of many stories, of many rumors.

And yet, here, he did not seem out of place. No, he did not wear his usual Enforcer uniform, but instead had the standard, ink black military garb befitting both a soldier, and funeral attendee.  

The Third Rank Enforcer, the man some would say was the strongest in all of Sanctuary. The one people called 'The Silver Fist' himself.

He was a quiet man, a simple, stoic one. But, at the podium, he spoke in a gentle voice, one that did not match his size or appearance. Not his narrowed eyes, his scarred face, his rough exterior.

For on this day, the Iron Fist cried… No, the Iron Fist did not cry.

The Enforcer Hasim Haddad did.

"I do not have much to say on this day. No great speeches, nor any vows." He started, his expression solemn, "It will not bring back the thousands dead. The Civilians, the Soldiers, even the four Hunters and single Enforcer, my friend Apollo, we lost that day. So, instead, I simply offer my apologies for not being able to protect those people. And, in honor of the dead, I will do the job that they were unable to finish. To ensure that none will be able to claim such a loss ever again."

He paused for a moment, "... As well, I stand here to speak a message from my fellow Enforcer who could not be here today. The Fourth Rank Enforcer, Quincy Vesper..." The man took out a note, beginning to read, "He says, 'To the Vampires, to the leeches who took the life of the Eighth Rank Enforcer, Apollo. To the parasites who took the lives of countless soldiers, citizens, and children. This is a warning, and a promise. Your age will soon come to an end. The Enforcer's will come. And we will kill every last one of you. Humanity will once again thrive."

The man looked up, putting the paper back into his coat, his expression unchanged, "... And I wholeheartedly believe in his words. That is all. Thank you."

He didn't even wait for the crowd to clap before walking away, his head hung low.

One by one, people of all sorts came up to talk. Some to say goodbye to the fallen, some to say their support of the Military's decision, and others to simply remember their loved ones.

But, the next to come stood out. 

After all, this was no typical person. This was one of the most notorious people in all of Sanctuary. A woman who nearly nobody ever saw in person, but all knew of.

The one woman who's control over Sanctuary rivaled that of both the Council and the General. Who acted freely, under her own whims and only allied with the army for the greater good.

The High Hunter. The Overseer of the entire Hunter Core. 

Headmaster Fell.

And to the surprise of everyone, she was not some elderly woman with wrinkled skin and a decrypt form. No. She was a young woman, beautiful and well built as if she spent hours each day training. Her skin was smooth, unblemished, and her hair long and flowing. It was a light, strawberry blonde, and her eyes a shining hazel.

Her uniform was in stark contrast to nearly every other person in attendance. It was a bright white, with golden embellishments and a flowing, silk cloak behind her. It was an outfit that, while beautiful, seemed almost inappropriate for the occasion, as if she was attending a marriage hundreds of years ago rather than a remembrance of the dead. The only thing that was in juxtaposition to that was the long, silver blade at her side, a sword no doubt as old as Sanctuary itself.

Her appearance would not be as surprising if it was anybody else. After all, why be surprised that someone is not old? But for her, who was known far and wide for being nearly sixty upon the attack twenty years ago, it was indeed an odd sight.

A woman who almost seemed to defy age...

In the same way a Vampire did not age, eternally youthful.

She was a woman shrouded in mystery. Her history unknown, all attempts to discover her past shut down almost immediately. She had no family, no real connections, and yet, she was one of the most powerful people in the world.

By all means, she was a true enigma. An enigma no one dare accuse, however. Not if they valued their own life.

She stepped to the podium, her eyes scanning the crowd. "I've never liked funerals. They're drab... boring... a waste of time, if you ask me." She spoke, her tone casual, almost mocking. "But, here I am, anyway, attending the first mass funeral in twenty years. Funny, isn't it? Almost exactly twenty years apart, this kind of thing happens... It's not coincidence, but rather a cycle."

Her words caused a stir among the crowd, though her calm, casual demeanor kept them relatively silent.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. I'm not here to offer my condolences, or to mention the four hunters that died. No. I'm here for another reason." She leaned forward, her smile growing wider, "A very important reason.”

She stood back up straight, crossing her arms, "The world is changing. And it's because the world is changing that I, along with the General, first created the Hunter Core. It's the reason we needed to find a way to quickly and effectively gain the same powers of Vampires, and it's that change that will allow us to survive. To win this war."

The woman placed a hand on her hip, her eyes narrowing.

"The Enforcer's were a step forward. And a big one, at that. But, now, the world is evolving to the point we will soon no longer need them. It takes nearly twenty five years to even have a chance of training an effective Enforcer. It takes one procedure to create a Hunter with power rivaling a Vampire. And soon, with the newest developments of the Core, we will no longer need the Enforcer's at all."

There was another stir, a louder one. Murmurs of shock, fear, and confusion filled the nearby area, but most of all, intrigue.

"As the world evolves once again, we Hunters will not stay stagnant. We will evolve with it, and thus, I would like to introduce you all to our evolution! To the future!"

With a single snap, a group of people came out from behind the stage. A group of young adults, ranging from their late teens to early twenties. Their uniforms were white, with accents of gold reminiscent of the Headmaster. A design likely thought up by the eccentric woman herself.

Each and every one had a different weapon upon their person, whether that be a sword, gun, or bow, and one red haired man specifically with a chain whip at his side, and a certain yellow haired man with two firearms upon his back.

"These are the first ever Hunters who have undergone the newest, and soon, final version of the Hunter Serum! These young students, the first graduating class of the future, will soon lead us into a new age!" She paused for a moment, her grin widening as she spread her arms, "The age of the Hunter! The age of Humanity!"

The applause was loud, and enthusiastic, the audience standing up as they clapped and cheered.

"These Hunters will be the first of our newest division, one anybody can join after proper training!" She took a step forward, eyes wide and a look of excitement across her face, "Introducing… The Morning Glaive!"

It was an applause of hope.

 

–

 

Elsie walked forward in a confident stride, one leg after the other. Her black dress swayed in the wind as she followed behind Cyrell who led the way to wherever they were going. He never told her.

She truly did hate this man.

She would do anything to tear his throat out and leave him to die, and yet, she couldn't. After all, she was his spawn, and he, her sire. A connection forged in blood that would never allow her to raise a hand against him with intent to harm, nor to disobey his orders. Even attempting to do so would leave her writhing in agony, as if she had been electrocuted.

It was an awful, sickening feeling. A feeling she hoped she would never need to experience again.

"So, my dear... Tell me, are you thirsty?" Cyrell asked, his plum-red lips curving up into a smile at his own question.

"No. I'm not." Elsie responded, her voice cold and without the slightest bit of emotion. 

Cyrell laughed, a low chuckle, his voice smooth and refined, "Oh, yes, I'm sure. Of course. Why would you be? It's been, what? Two weeks since you last fed? And not from a human, but from me. My, how you must be suffering..."

She scoffed, avoiding his gaze as she continued walking to god knows where. After leaving the Selene manor, they took a short car-ride through the roads of Nosferatu's capital. It was a large city, but also very clean. There were many large buildings, skyscrapers even, all beautiful and without comparison.

However, the city was not just filled with modern infrastructure. No. In fact, many of the streets were paved, but still, there were also cobbled, ancient roads with large, stone structures and statues. Many large, Neo-Victorian buildings filled the streets, more extravagant than any other Elsie had seen in Sanctuary. More than she had ever seen anywhere else... Though she would never admit that out loud.

The centerpiece, however? A gargantuan palace built in the very middle of the city. An obstinate building with towers and spires taller than any structure she had seen, even bigger than military HQ in Central.

A palace that she had begun to notice they were getting closer to. One that hundreds of other Vampires, all dressed in the most lavish, expensive clothing Elsie had ever seen, were walking toward.

"You are, aren't you? You must be starving, my dear." Cyrell sighed, his tone a mix of pity and satisfaction, "You've already tried so many times to fight your urges, but it's no use. Eventually... you will crack. That day will be truly wonderful... Oh, I cannot wait."

Elsie didn't reply, only clenching her sharp teeth as she grimaced.

Never. She'd never, ever stoop to their level. She would never act like the Monster that tried to overtake her. She would rather die.

 

Before she knew it, they were in the palace, the main hall. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of Vampires were there, all chatting and laughing. A large, crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, the floor below made of pure, white marble, and the walls decorated with paintings older than any she had seen. The room was circular, and the centerpiece was a large, spiraling staircase, one that was currently blocked off.

The only entrance was behind her, which was a large, arching door leading to the outside.

Cyrell, however, did not stay in the room for long, quickly guiding her into a private, smaller chamber. One that was a bit more intimate.

Inside, there were more Vampires, though not much at all compared to the vast number in the main hall. No, there had to be no more than a fifty here.

However, there was one thing that drew her eye.

A girl.

A Human.

One dressed in a bright red outfit, long and flowing, and yet, it clung tight to her skin. Her head was hung low, yet even then, she could see it. A tattoo in ink just as red as her outfit, just as red as her blood, plastered upon her forehead.

She was... beautiful.

Her mind went blank, her heart racing, her throat drying. Even from there, it was powerful. All she could smell was her scent.  Her delicious, sweet, addictive scent.

All she could hear was her heartbeat.

All she could feel was the heat. The heat from her skin, from her body, her blood.

Her blood...

"Ah! Hello my fellow House Heads! What a pleasure to see you all on this fine, fine night!" Elsie was snapped out of the urge as Cyrell yelled out, his hands spread wide and his voice booming. "It has been far too long, no?"

The room went silent as his voice, each and every Vampire in the room looking at him with mixed expressions. Some of contempt, some of annoyance, most of confusion.

Though, one Vampire of a particularly commanding aura, walked over, his eyes narrowed and fists squeezed tightly.  "Child. You know for a fact you are not welcome here." His voice was harsh, a deep, guttural tone, "Leave. Before I am forced to make you."

"Now, now, now, don't be so hasty, Lord Harker," Cyrell smirked, taking a step forward, "I suppose the news hasn't reached you, then? I, along with the lovely woman loitering behind me, are the new Heads of the Selene Family! So, therefore, you are, in fact, speaking to your equal." His voice became ever so slightly hostile at the end of his speech.

Harker's expression only hardened, his jaw tensing and teeth clenching.

"Impossible... The Selene's…? Those two?" Another voice spoke, feminine and stern. 

"Oh, yes. I assure you, my Lady~, it is no lie." Cyrell chuckled, walking towards the table in the middle of the room and promptly sitting atop it, "My family took a vote! They chose me! Well, along with her."

"I refuse to believe it." Another voice called, this one old and raspy, "Eris would never allow such a thing to happen... And Arcell? Preposterous..."

"Oh, refuse to believe it all you want. I have already gained the blessing of the Queen herself. It is all legal and official, blah blah blah. All boring, useless nonsense." Cyrell waved his hand, sighing, "Who cares! The important thing to note now is that I am welcome here. Lay a hand on me and we shall see what her Majesty has to say about it."

"If it is the will of the Queen, then I will accept it, no matter how much I loathe the idea." A tall, well built man stepped forward, his truly illustriously white hair in contrast to his black suit. "Still, the question stands... Just who is this woman?" He pointed his hand at Elsie, his expression calm, collected, yet his eyes were sharp.

Cyrell laughed, standing up and staring upwards towards the larger man. "Intelligent as always, Lord Wisteria. Yes, yes, you must be wondering about her. Who is she, you ask?" He turned around, smiling widely as he looked at Elsie, "Come on, dear! Don't be shy!"

Her gaze was at the Human girl once again, but quickly left her as that word was spoken. She moved forward, her eyes set upon the group.

"... My name is Elsie Selene." She started, her hands at her sides, "... A pleasure to meet you all."

The room was silent as the Vampire Nobles stared blankly.

Cyrell sighed, scratching the back of his head. "How boring of an introduction! Well, I suppose we can spice things up..." He stood, taking a step forward, spreading his arms, and bowing. "My Lords, my Ladies… And my friends who I’m far more enamored with... While yes, her name is now Elsie Selene, it was not always... Formerly... She was known as one of the Nightshades."

That sparked a reaction, the whole room now in an uproar with little delay.

"A Nightshade? Here?!"

"Preposterous!"

"Is she mad?! To come here after everything?!"

Elsie was completely exhausted. How long was she going to go without knowing what in the world a 'Nightshade' even was? Some other Noble Family, she assumed, but were they really that bad?

"Enough! Enough! Let me finish, damn it." Cyrell shook his head, standing back up straight. "Yes, yes, a Nightshade. But she has left that life and lineage behind! In fact, she has done much more than that... My dear, Elsie, please, show them."

With that, Cyrell took a few steps away, leaving her to stand in front of the group.

What?

Elsie looked left and right, her mouth slightly agape.

Just what in the hells was she supposed to do? 'Please show them'? Was she supposed to know what he was referring to?

As her thoughts raced, one of the Vampires, the one Cyrell called 'Lord Wisteria', spoke up, "Are you mad, Cyrell? To ask her to do such a thing here? To put us House Heads in danger so?"

Danger? Danger?! What danger was she putting them in?!

"Oh, come now, you old bat. I know you aren't afraid of one unarmed woman, are you?" Cyrell's grin grew, his tone mocking almost as if he was referring to something else.

The man glared, his eyes sharp. "I am not, but I'm not a fool either. You should know well the danger of the Nightshades and their accursed blood, especially after what they did to your own family. I would prefer not to lose mine. Especially not now, after the Blood Bags in Sanctuary made their decision…”

Why were they being so vague? It was like they were actively trying to keep secrets from her.

Elsie blinked, looking at the others, but, to her surprise, most were nodding in agreement.

"Fine, then. If you're so concerned…” Cyrell let out a quiet sigh, rolling his eyes... Until his grin returned. "Just kidding."

A snap resounded throughout the room as Cyrell's fingers collided.

It echoed.

And Elsie felt a pain like no other.

Every nerve of her body was burning, like her veins were being set ablaze, the fire spreading, engulfing her. Every cell, every particle, was screaming. Each and every nerve activated at once, each firing with the full potential of their neurotransmitters, the chemical signals tearing through her nervous system.

With a thousand shocks coursing through her at once, all at different intensities, she shook. Every muscle, every tissue, every cell, her brain, her heart, everything was on fire. A heat that felt was previously impossible for her frigid skin, her cold body.

A scream escaped her lips. A blood curdling scream, one that pierced the air and reverberated across the room as her voice tore through her throat.

She fell to her knees, a powerful and tight pressure building up in her back. It felt as if her bones were shattering, her muscles being torn apart and reconfigured. She was on her hands and knees now, her body convulsing as the pressure increased. Her back began to spasm, and it wasn't long before the pain became unbearable. Until the effects began to make themselves known.

Two large, leathery wings began to sprout from her back, tearing through her dress and growing with each moment. They were a dark, sickly grey, with a webbing pattern similar to that of a bat.

They were not the only things to change, however.

Her teeth began to grow longer, sharper, and not just her canines. Each and every tooth in her mouth changed to something befitting of a carnivore, of a beast.

She could feel the muscles in her arms, legs, and stomach tense, the bones within cracking and reshaping.

The pressure continued elsewhere, and her fingers, her toes, they too changed, elongating, the nails growing and becoming sharper, almost claw-like.

Her face contorted, the lower half of her head extending forward. Her nose flattened, and her ears stretched and bent, growing pointier. No longer did she look remotely similar to any human, to any humanoid. No, she was more beast than man, a contorted creature that all Bloodstarved Vampires were destined to become.

But it was not just her body that changed.

She was no longer Elsie.

Her mind was foggy, her thoughts jumbled, unclear. Every word she attempted to think only appeared as blank, white noise, and every emotion, a feeling she could not place, could not name.

Everything was hot, yet cold. It was near impossible to breathe, but oh so easy to move. Her body was truly relaxed, yet despite that feeling, it was tense, ready for a fight.

It was wrong.

The pain subsided.

But, as her eyes opened, all she could see was red. A hazy red that made it near impossible to pin-point form. But her other senses, they were keen. More so than ever before.

She could hear everything.

She could feel everything.

She could smell everything.

The scent of the room was strong in particular.

A mixture of many different aromas, many different people. But there was one above all the rest. One that made her insides twist and her mind scream.

Blood.

Human blood.

It was so close. So tantalizingly close. She could nearly taste it, the metallic liquid making her salivate. Drool fell from her gaping mouth in copious amounts, the liquid dripping onto the once pristine floors.

"Ghhhkk... Kahhhh..." Her voice was hoarse, almost like that of a monster, the sounds coming from her throat not even remotely human.

She could barely keep herself upright, her wings heavy, and her limbs tired. But she was thirsty. Thirsty. She was so thirsty. She had to have blood. She needed blood. She needed it. She had to have it.

Her eyes darted around, her vision finally coming into focus as she spotted the source of the delicious scent.

The Human.

She was standing near the table, her hands at her sides and her expression one of true fear.

She had to have her. She had to taste her. She had to feed.

A snarl left her throat as she stood, her legs shaky. She could hear voices, but it was impossible to make out what exactly they were saying. All she could hear was the beating of her heart, and the pulsing of her blood.

"Grrhh... KAHHH!" A shriek, an unearthly shriek that came from the pit of her gut.

She lunged forward, the room seeming to move in slow motion. Each figure stood still, or perhaps, they were just slow. Perhaps her perception was just altered.

Whatever the case, her claws were already extended, her jaw unhinged and teeth bared, and as she loomed mere inches away, her inhuman hands wrapped around the Human's shoulders.

Her skin was oh so soft, and even warmer. Something she had not felt for a while now... Warmth.

The Human's scent filled her mind, the intoxicating aroma overwhelming her senses.

Her prey did not move, did not attempt to flee. It stood, staring at her with wide, fearful eyes, its jaw slightly open.

She could practically hear the beating of its heart, its pulse. The sound was almost as loud as its own cries.

How absolutely adorable. It made her want to dig her fangs into it even more.

Her teeth moved forward, her jaw opening wider.

Her mouth was inches away from the Human's neck, the warm, sweet smelling blood so, so close.

A single movement. That's all it would take... That's all it would take to finally feel good again... To finally taste Human blood for the first time...

That was, until she eyed the colour of the Human's hair. Her hair was black, a deep, inky black that she...

That she...

What was she doing...?

It took a second, but the redness faded. The cloud over her mind dissipated.

And, suddenly, the realization hit her like a truck.

She quickly and suddenly let go of the girl, stumbling back as she clenched her forehead with both hands.

"Ghkk... Kaaaahh... Gghhaaa..." She let out a pained groan, her wings receding and her claws growing duller. "Ghhaaa... Ahhh... Ghkahhh..."

Elsie was sweating profusely, her breathing ragged. Her body was still tense, the muscles still spasming and bones aching. She felt exhausted, weak. As if she hadn't slept in weeks.

"Ghh... Hh... Ahhh..." Elsie let out an airy groan, slowly standing up straight.

"... And there you have it. The unadulterated will power of Elsie Selene. The strength to fight against our Urges... the very same uncontrollable Urges the Nightshades were known for."

Elsie could barely hear his words, her attention focused solely on keeping her body from falling.

"What's more? She has not had a drop of human blood in months. I know, because it is I who provides her meals. Now, tell me, is that not a feat worthy of awe?"

The Nobles were silent, their eyes glued to her, expressions varied.

"... This is absurd..." A tall woman spoke, her gaze narrowed.

"Absurd, but undeniable...." Lord Wisteria took a step forward, looking down upon Elsie, "I have never seen a Vampire, especially a Nightshade, able to resist their Urge like that... And to force herself back into a non-Bloodstarved state, no less."

"Of course, of course! I have a great eye for talent, don't you know?" Cyrell laughed, placing a hand on her shoulder.

The contact caused Elsie's skin to crawl, though Cyrell seemed to quickly remove her hand for a reason Elsie did not understand.

Not until she heard a voice.

 

"A truly impressive display. It seems you were not lying, new House Head.”

The room went silent as all heads turned towards the door, and upon seeing the one who stood, all knelt. Even Cyrell, who throughout all of Elsie's time knowing him never once showed respect for another.

A truly beautiful and regal woman stood at the door. Her hair a pure white similar to all other Vampires, but not identical. It was more akin to starlight, a shimmering, pale glow.

But her eyes, unlike the silver resting state of a healthy Vampire, seemed to be a perpetual, bright crimson, her iris a vibrant red and her pupil's a tight slit. Framing them were long eyelashes, the same shade of white as the rest of her hair.

As she smiled, her fangs were visible. They were wonderful, long and sharp. The perfect tool to pierce a Human's skin.

Her skin was pale, but not a sickly, corpse-like pallor that many lower class Vampires possessed. Rather, it was an ivory hue, one that would put even the finest porcelain to shame. Her face was soft, round, and her expression one of genuine warmth, though there was an undercurrent of fierce sharpness. An air of confidence, of power.

An attitude befitting her.

An attitude befitting...

"Arrogant fool–! Kneel before your Queen!" A fellow House Head yelled out.

It was now that Elsie realized that, unlike everyone else, she was still standing. She had been staring, dumbfounded, at the woman for who knows how long.

But as much as her body screamed to do so, she wouldn't.

She refused to listen to a Vampire. To kneel before a disgusting creature like this.

Elsie simply stared. She did not kneel, nor did she look down. No, she kept her eyes dead-set on the woman, her expression cold and her gaze strong.

She didn't want to bow. She didn't want to listen.

She couldn't.

"I must say, you truly are a fascinating little thing. Your eyes hold a burning inferno. An intense, willful fire that does not bend to any other's whims," The Queen walked forward, her heels clicking harshly upon the marble floor as she continued, "You are the first in a long while that has dared to look me in the eyes."

She stopped, standing in front of Elsie, and looked her up and down, her smile wide and her gaze intense.

"But you're afraid. You are absolutely terrified." She chuckled, leaning forward, "You are fighting against yourself, and yet, you refuse to lose. How stubborn of a creature are you, to fight yourself? To fight your nature?"

Elsie did not respond, instead continuing to stare at the woman, her fists squeezed tightly as her nails dug into her skin. It took all she had not to fall to the floor, to collapse and submit.

It was not an urge.

No, it was something else.

Something beyond all that.

Something primal.

The Queen moved her hand, delicately grabbing her chin as she tilted her head, her eyes looking into hers.

"Your eyes have become red. Your mind and body want different things. You are torn. And, yet, you refuse to give in." She spoke softly, her voice quiet, but all the same, commanding. "Tell me, fledgling, why is that?"

Elsie opened her mouth, the words caught in her throat. It took all she had not to cry out. Not to scream.

"Because... Because I am not... a Monster..." She started, her voice cracking. "... I'll never... never be like you. Like all of you."

"I understand now..." The Queen's smile grew as she leaned in, whispering into her ear. “You still hold on to your humanity. Your will to not give in is because you believe yourself to still be Human."

"I... am..."

"I wonder how long you will believe that. How long until you crack and succumb. Today? Will it be tomorrow, a week from now, a month? Maybe a year? Or perhaps, never. You will simply stay trapped in your delusions, unable to move on, yet never to return. Even now, you squirm."

The Queen's voice was like a siren's song, her words soft and gentle, but dangerous. Each moment that went by made her feel closer and closer to succumbing to it, succumbing to whatever control the Queen had over her. 

"I look forward to watching you struggle more, Elsie."

But just like that, her song had ended.

The moment she let go of her chin, Elsie fell to her knees. She panted, supporting herself with her arms as she trembled, her whole body trembling.

She didn't realize she was holding her breath that entire time.

"My chosen Nobles, you may stand. The ceremony shall begin momentarily." The Queen clapped her hands together, taking a step back, "I would not suggest being late."

As quickly as the Queen had appeared, she had left. The tension in the room seemed to dissipate with her, a collective sigh leaving the lips of each and every Noble.

Elsie remained on the ground, her body still trembling, her mind blank.

"Ah... What a sight..." Cyrell walked forward, chuckling as he stood over her, "You should have seen your face, my dear! Absolutely priceless! Hah! Oh, it was just too precious."

Elsie said nothing.

"Next time, maybe just kneel. It might save you the trouble."

 

–

 

The ceremony was a grand one.

It took place in what could only be described as a throne room, disgusting in its grandiosity and breathtaking in its futility. At the very end of the large chamber was a set of stairs leading up to an elevated platform, just a few meters higher than the rest of the polished marble floor. Upon the platform were two seats. Two thrones. 

One empty, one occupied.

The larger of the two thrones sat in the very middle, an aggressively baronial throne carved from obsidian. It spiraled up towards the ceiling, and atop its peak rested a delicately crafted statue of some sort of horned humanoid head, monstrous yet, in a strange way, beautiful. A plush cushion lined the backrest and seat, the crimson shade a stark contrast to the dark hue of the rest of the throne. It made sitting upon the veritable monument a much more pleasant experience. After all, the one who sat atop it was a woman deserving of such luxury.

As for the smaller throne, it was less ornate and less grandiose, but not by any means cheap or uncomfortable. A seat perhaps not fit for a Queen, but someone just a tad lower. Though, judging based on the very design of the throne, it may not have been created for a Vampire at all. A tell-tale sign of livestock, of a Blood Bag. The Sigil of Eve, a sign painted in crimson adorned the seat's backrest.

Elsie saw the same thing on the Human wearing all red before, the tattoo on her forehead. She was starting to understand what it might mean.

The walls were lined with banners, and above the banners were balconies overlooking the rest of the area. Hundreds of Vampires stood along the sides, their expressions varied, but most held a sense of excitement.

But as for the House Heads, they were seated somewhere else. Upon the same level as the thrones, seated in a line upon the side of the hall in comfortable, though not too extravagant, rich, wooden chairs.

As for Elsie and Cyrell, they were seated quite close the the Queen, among a few more imposing figures she noticed before, as well as some new people who had a striking resemblance to the Queen herself.

She could still feel their eyes upon her. It made her want to gag.

"Purebloods, one and all! Her Majesty, the True Arbiter of the Long Night and our one and only ruler, Her Royal Highness, the Vampire Queen comes!" A loud voice called out, one Elsie hadn't heard before, "Welcome Queen Anastasiya Rasia Tepes Belladonna! The Lady of the Blood Moon! The Empress of the Night! The Lord of the Nightwalkers and bringer of our Eternal Empire! We are blessed to be in her presence, thus, praise her!"

"Praise be!" Each of the hundreds of Nobles in the room cheered, erupting into applause as they all bowed their head.

The sound of her arrival was deafened by the claps and cheers, or perhaps, she was simply silent as she moved. Regardless, as Elsie lifted her head upon the quieting sounds, the Queen was already sitting upon her throne, a man in what seemed to be a dark butler uniform standing beside her.

The butler was unquestionably a Vampire, yet his hair was black, a deep black that seemed strange. At times, she had seen a few Vampires with hair of a darker shade, but never a Noble. She had to wonder just who the man was, especially as she stared upon the eyepatch that covered his left eye and the many scars nearby.

"Rise." One word was all she needed to say. All she needed for all in the hall to stare, and with it, the hall went silent, the crowd quieting as they listened to their Queen intently.

"I would like to finally welcome you all to the annual gathering of the Purebloods, our Ceremony of New Blood. Today, we celebrate yet another year of Nosferatu, another year of our continued reign over this land, our home. Another year of our eternal prosperity." The Queen rested her face upon her fist, a calm smile spread across her face, "And another year closer to once again regaining control of the insurgent humans. Another year closer to bringing about our complete control over this continent. It is a time to celebrate the coming age, the next step in the evolution of our species. So, let us enjoy ourselves, and may we reap the fruits of our efforts."

"Praise be!" In response to her words, the crowd once again erupted, cheering and applauding.

"But before our celebrations may begin, I must speak to you, my loyal Nobility, about the information our Night Agents have brought back to us." The Vampire woman leaned back in her throne, her smile fading, "The Blood Bags in Sanctuary have come to a decision. They have rejected our mercy, to live good lives in our villages, and instead..."

The Queen narrowed her eyes, though her smile never faltered.

"They have publicly declared their decision to attack us. To attack Nosferatu. To wage a true war against us. As such, we are left with no choice. The humans have chosen foolishness, and as their betters, it is our duty to show them their place."

The room was silent for a brief moment, the crowd looking to each other with proud expressions, feelings depicting their confidence in their leader. Or, at least, their power.

"Let us show them the price of stealing two of my Daughters from me. Lysandra and Alexandria may be lost to us, but their legacy is not. Their legacy is that of vengeance, a legacy of blood that will pave the way to the end of Sanctuary’s futile existence.”

As the Queen’s word rang out, Elsie’s expression was not reminiscent of the other Vampires. No. She was horrified.