"He can do all these things, yet he is not free. Nay, he is even more prisoner than the slave of the galley, than the madman in his cell. " - Bram Stoker, Dracula
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*CLANK*
Alex's vision became hazy
...
*THUD* *CLANK*
'What happened?' His eyes regained focus and he looked around. He was on the ground back in the entrance corridor, apparently knocked back here. The Helm of Darkness was off to his right. Balisarda was nowhere to be seen. He looked up at a bloody sword and the man holding it who stood in the doorway to the hall.
'He couldn't see me...The sword must've glanced off my helmet and knocked it off,' Alex realized.
Alex's appearance finally revealed itself to the man. He looked at Alex's face and his eyebrows knitted. "Who are you?"
Alex desperately crawled backward on the ground.
The man's face became cold. His eyes narrowed and emitted a smoky red light. He looked deep into Alex's eyes. "Look into my eyes...Tell me your name."
...
Alex froze. His eyes became blank. His lips spread as he began to voice a response.
"...Kobe!"
The man's view was suddenly replaced by a different face. It was a face with gaping eyes and mouth, a face he recognized, his guard, whose severed head now flew at him.
The man slapped it out of the way, shattering it into a thousand pieces that painted the walls. His eyes slightly shook. 'Hypnosis didn't work on him? How can his soul be stronger when he is so weak?'
"Unseal!"
*Breep*
The man's view returned to Alex, who was now holding a black rifle. Although he didn't know where it came from, he was fearless. "Bullets? Usele—"
*PEW*
The man barely saw the flash of a red light even brighter than his sword. He looked down to his right leg. It had a problem; It wasn't attached anymore. Blood exploded from the stump as he fell down.
*PEW*
Left leg gone.
'Well, that turned out not too bad. I was worried that if I used this gun on a living person, they would melt from the inside or something.' Alex stood up as he watched the blood from the man's legs slowly pool together and return to his limbs.
*PEW*
*PEW*
Alex blew off his arms, then took all of the stumps and threw them down the hall, just in case he could reattach them. Even then, he watched as the wounds healed at a speed visible to the naked eye. They would surely regrow eventually.
The man looked down at his limbless torso. Even now, he could probably still escape if he wanted. It's just...what would be the point? He didn't see one. His eyes relaxed, losing any hint of struggle.
"Human stick. Are you Lestat?" Alex asked.
The man's eyes were no longer relaxed. Instead, he felt bitter, almost pouting. 'He killed my men and turned me into this state without even knowing who I am?'
"Just kidding man, Dracula right?" Alex watched the man's response and knew he was correct. He lifted his laser rifle to Dracula's head.
It was the end. Dracula knew it. His time had finally come. Yet, the only things he felt now were relief...and regret.
***
A man clad in battle armor was looking at a map over candlelight. All his officers and officials had already left the hall long ago, but he couldn't bring himself to step away. He knew the moment he did so was the moment he sealed his death.
The map was full of towns, cities, and varied terrain. Yet, everywhere he looked, every plan and route he formulated, all of them led to one inevitable result--defeat. His jaw clenched so hard that the grinding of his teeth echoed in the hall. He had sacrificed so much, and just like that, everything would be taken away from him.
*Swish*
He turned around. The window had blown open. A gust passed through the room, stirring up dust and old memories. This was the place his father taught him how to fight, how to defend their homeland and the glory of their ancestors.
"Will you miss this place?" A woman's voice suddenly came from behind him, so sharp it felt like it pierced his soul.
His pupils dilated, but he remained calm. Slowly he turned around and looked at her. She stood in the middle of the hall, covered in a black cloak. Her red hair hung down to her waist in front of her. Her face was obscured by shadow, but she appeared young. "Who are you?"
*Shiiiiing*
He slowly unsheathed his sword.
"I have many names. As for who I am? I am the one who can provide your salvation...Vlad, impaler, slayer of masses. Your thirst for blood is legendary. It impresses us." She lightly smiled.
"Those deaths were to bring peace."
"Death never brings peace." She lifted her head so he could see her eyes for the first time. Green as emeralds, but her pupils...they were long and narrow, like his sword, stabbing into his mind. He felt he was being watched by an unspeakable monster. He froze, sweat glistening on his forehead. Despite all that, 'What a beauty,' he thought.
"Isn't that right? Vlad Dracula, son of the devil." She once again lowered her head, relieving the pressure from his body. She snickered, briefly offering a glimpse of two pearly fangs, shimmering in the candlelight.
"..Dracula means son of the dragon."
"All these words and titles...so fragile...so meaningless."
"Why are you here?"
She slowly approached him step by step. It took all his mental strength just to keep his sword from shaking and falling out of his hand.
*Clink* *Clink* *Clink* ... *Clink* *Clink*
As she moved forward, she playfully tapped his sword with her long nails, leading them in a brief and macabre ballet.
"'When a man or a prince is strong and powerful he can make peace as he wants to; but when he is weak, a stronger one will come and do what he wants to him.' These are your words. Are they not?" She asked.
Vlad gulped.
"An army of 150,000 Ottoman warriors knocks at your door. Tell me, Vlad Dracula, do you feel powerful?"
At that reminder, his eyes turned bloodshot and his jaw once again clenched, unable to hide his tragic desperation.
"I can offer you the thing you desire most...power...enough to crush your enemies," she continued.
Dracula's eyebrows knitted. "What will this cost of me?"
"Your freedom...You will serve me, and those of my side, until the end of days...and after."
When one risks losing everything they can see and touch, an illusory soul doesn't seem too great a price. Although skeptical, Dracula agreed to the bargain. He had nothing to lose anyway, or so he thought. "Very well. How do I receive this power?"
The woman's grin now spread ear to ear.
*Fwoosh*
She tore open a gash on her wrist as blood poured out on the ground, holding it in front of Dracula. "Drink."
He hesitated for a moment, before steeling himself and putting his mouth under that crimson stream. He drank from that fountain of death until she took her hand away.
*Gasp* *Gasp*
Standing there, with his face painted red, he began to feel a fire rise up in his stomach, quickly spreading to his chest, his arms and legs, his head, and somewhere deeper.
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" He fell on the floor, clutching his head in agony until he could no longer sense anything, including himself, as if he had died.
An unknown amount of time later, he opened his eyes. Seeing that the woman was still there, he raised himself off the ground. His eyes shone slightly, surprised at the changes in his body.
The woman smiled. "Now you really are the son of the Dragon."
Confused, he spoke the question that had been burning in his mind this whole time. "My lady...how shall I address you?"
"You can call me...Mother."