NYÍREGYHÁZA, HUNGARY
YEAR 1469
Dragos shivered in fear as he stared piteously at the boy bound in front of him. The child was no older than he was—just eleven years old.
His eyes begged for mercy, but Dragos was powerless in that situation.
"I beg of you, Azrael, I do not wish to cause him harm." Dragos pleaded with his brother desperately. "I'll do whatever you wish, anything but the act of taking his life."
Azrael stared down at him angrily. He was going to make his little brother kill his first victim. His first human.
"You must do it!" He snapped. "Your heart must give no room for compassion. As the Alesul, you cannot afford that. Remember, his kind is the reason Dragavei is dead"
On seeing the tears fall from his little brother's face, Azrael raised a hand to strike him hard, his sharp claws ripping into his brother's cheek. Dragos didn't bleed, his regenerative abilities, healing him in seconds. However, he felt the momentary sting of the slap.
"Tears?!" Azrael was livid with rage. "Tears?!!" He repeated, striking him again.
"You cannot afford to show cowardice, you foolish... foolish boy!" He raged. "If you are to one day lead us, this stupid display of pusillanimity has to end. And it has to end now! Kill the boy!"
"Please don't make me" Dragos cried "I will not do it, Azrael"
He looked towards the mansion. "Where is our mother? Why is it that you force my hand to do this great evil, Azrael? I know she will not approve of..."
"I am in charge of grooming you" he cut in angrily "Not even our mother would interfere"
"Father would never have approved of this!" Dragos exclaimed tearfully.
Azrael's eyes flamed, but Dragos continued, undeterred. "He believed in the power of choice!" He yelled. "You might look like him, but in spirit and deed, you are nothing like him. You're a monster!"
"What did you just say?" Azrael asked in a dangerously calm voice.
"You're a MONSTER!" Dragos repeated and Azrael shoved his little brother to the ground, sending a hard kick to his stomach that Dragos threw up.
"You ignorant fool!" He yelled in anger "You believe your compassion matters? And to these… lowly beings?"
He kicked him across the nose. "They are mere prey for our hunger!"
Dragos remained still on the ground, curled up.
"You are a creature of the night! Un sorbitor de sânge! (A bloodsucker) Why do you weep and cower like a human child??!!"
Dragos shook his head defiantly "They are more than mere food, they're living beings like us" He replied. "Does that mean nothing to you?!"
Azrael released a frustrated growl. "You forget your true nature. You're a disgrace" He scowled "Our people must never hear you speak this nonsense"
"I care not if they do"
Azrael let out a cold laugh. "Your defiance is the only thing I find slightly admirable about you, brother"
The bound little boy watched on in horror.
If the man could brutally treat his blood relative that way, what fate was awaiting him, an absolute stranger? And what was all that talk about being food... prey for them?
Azrael yanked Dragos to his feet. "Bloodshed is what we live for. The sooner you accept this truth, the better. Now... kill the boy!!!"
The order came out in a loud, beast-like snarl that struck fear in the air and left both boys shaking.
Silence ensued for a moment before Azrael released his hold on Dragos.
"Use your mind compulsion. Recall the previous teachings I have given you"
He looked the boy in the eye. "Let his torment be long and filled with anguish"
The boy was struggling violently, his eyes round in fear, his voice muffled by the piece of cloth stuffed into his mouth.
If only he had listened to his mother.
His eyes were trained on Dragos, pleading with him to not give in to the man's words and let him go.
If only he hadn't accepted the offer from the man who, not too long ago, had appeared far less cruel.
He had lured him with promises of money and fruits for his mother in exchange for helping harvest peaches from the trees in their mansion. Now, he was going to die.
The name of the little boy was István.
István's mind wandered to his beautiful mother. His mother who would've been searching for him by now because he hadn't told her when he was leaving. He had intended to surprise her.
István started to weep for his mother. His poor mother. He was all she had in the world.
What had he done?
"...remember, let it be agonizing" the voice of the man cut into his thoughts.
"First, make him feel like he's drowning. Then make him feel like he's lost the use of his legs" he paused and added, his blue eyes devoid of emotion "and arms"
The rumors were true. The Vlads were very strange people. And not just strange, beyond cruel.
"Brother, please." Dragos choked out.
István wondered what sort of humans they were. His fellow mate had been beaten brutally by his uncle and yet not a scratch could be spotted on his body. He hadn't even bled.
What manner of sorcery was at work?
"If you do not, then I shall!" Azrael threatened. "I shall see it done, and you know full well my own methods be far more cruel. My imaginations know no bounds. Now, do it"
Dragos knew his older brother meant every word. He knew how sadistic Azrael could be when dealing with humans. It was hard to believe he was the son of their father, Andrei.
Slowly, Dragos helped the boy to a sitting position and touched his shoulder affectionately, mouthing the words "My apologies"
His eyes watered "Forgive me"
István, having lost all hope, stopped struggling, his shoulders sagging in defeat. He started to pray to his creator.
"Dear merciful God, please shield my dear mother from harm. Send her my apologies, as well as my love. My intentions were only to bring her joy by giving her what she cherishes dearly. Fruits, with which she may make delicious pies to sate our hungry bellies and coin to put an end to Mr. János' persistent demands each morn. My intentions were pure, only to aid her plight. Only to aid her plight..."
Dragos focused his stare on István's teary eyes and turned on the full power of his golden eyes as he whispered the words to him. "You find yourself drowning in a river, struggling for air as your limbs refuse to obey"
"Louder!" Azrael interrupted "Don't mutter like a bloody cicada"
Dragos sniffed and continued sadly, his voice trembling "Y-you struggle, your efforts futile. But you do not die"
Soon, István's eyes started to glaze over, a tear slipping from his eye as he struggled to break free of the potency of the dark magic that was being used on him.
His loud gasps for air continued to echo in Dragos' ears, tormenting him.
When they both watched the little boy suffer for about twenty minutes, thrashing wildly in pain, Azrael spoke up coldly, not taking his eyes off the boy. "End his misery by ripping into his neck"
Dragos looked at his brother "What?"
The question came out in a whisper, filled with his shock and disbelief at the monster his brother had become.
"Has he not suffered enough, brother?" Dragos asked, his voice cracking. "You are a decade and eight, how are you this heartless?"
Azrael inched closer. "Look at him" he ordered "Behold what you have brought upon him. If you would see his suffering end soon, you will do as I have instructed."
Dragos looked in István's direction and watched him struggle, his little heartbreaking at the sight of it.
"Do it, now"
Heaving a deep sigh, he shut his eyes. When he opened it, his cornea had shaded to a deep, bloodshot red, the veins of his eyes standing out.
Then, bringing down his fangs on István's neck, he started to drain the boy of life.
When he withdrew and wanted to turn away because his heart couldn't bear it anymore, Azrael hissed at him, grabbing his head and steering it in István's direction.
"Again, you coward!" He commanded.
Dragos shook his head, fighting back tears. He couldn't even look at István.
"Brother, please. It'll haunt me forever"
He said with a mouthful of blood, tears streaming down his face.
The pressure of Azrael's grip around his head increased as he forced it down towards the boy's neck.
"Do not make me repeat myself"
Dragos bit into István's neck again and didn't stop until he felt the boy's body go limp. He then moved away, coughing and sputtering, his mouth soiled in blood.
Heavy sobs of guilt racked his entire body.
"You have done well," Azrael said, moving to stand beside him. His face had relaxed.
"Do not weep. He was but a mortal boy. Recall, we are the superior kind"
He crouched down, giving Dragos a gentle pat on the back. "You should feel pride as well, you've had your first feed."
But pride was the last thing Dragos felt as he stared at the pale corpse of the boy he had just killed, because although he had hated every moment of it, deep down inside him... deep down inside the confines of his little, vampiric heart, as terrible as it sounded... he wanted more.