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Post by Grimm on Nov 9, 2018 13:55:09 GMT
Victor Leo Dardariel had found himself in a terrible situation. It wasn’t that he had trekked through the woods, the mud and the underbrush to the ruins that lay deep within the forest - nor had it been the underground catacombs he currently found himself hopelessly lost in for the past two days. It was the unquenchable thirst that no amount of water could satisfy, his tongue like sandpaper against the dry parched roof of his mouth. And it was only getting worse as time seem to slowly tick by.
He knew what that man had done to him, no matter how hard he tried to deny it. Victor had invited him into his home, treated him as a guest and had fallen under his spell. Before he knew what was happening to him, he was in the throws of death, writhing on the floor of his home being reborn as a vampire. The young man hadn’t asked for this, no matter how much he seemed in despair just weeks ago. And only days after the man had made him this way, his guest disappeared without a trace - leaving Victor alone in his newly found wonder and torment.
At first, things didn’t seem so bad; Victor thought he could maintain the life that he once had. As a young Nobleman, the last of his house - it was his duty to maintain the lands that had been handed down through the generations. To protect the people and the two small villages that called that land home. But it soon became evident to him that would be impossible. So he did the only thing he knew how too. He began to search for information that could cure his illness. Recalling the stories he use to tell his little sister at night about a legendary Vampire Hunter, he began to scour his families Library and that of the near by town. And it was during his research that he came across real true records of Lucien Bastista and his deeds.
All of his searching had lead him here to an abandoned estate. The sound of thunder rumbled through the catacombs and his emerald blue eyes shone like gems in the abyss he wondered through. It was a bit unsettling being able to see in the dark as well as he could now. And God have mercy on him, this thirst. Victor hadn’t feed since he had drank his guests blood and that had been weeks ago.
He pushed through a blanket of cobwebs and entered a room with vaulted ceilings. It was said that Bastista was entombed somewhere in the Estate of Garett Lamine, and this was the only estate that fit that name. It only made sense that if Lucien Bastista had been buried here, then so might the weapons he carried to hunt vampires. Perhaps if he killed the vampire who made him, he could go back to being human.
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Post by Behax on Nov 9, 2018 19:35:25 GMT
The estate of Garret Lamine was vast, and it was a wide spread rumour that Lord Lamine was a vampire. Though the last sighting of him, or anyone at his estate was probably 50 years ago or more. The grounds were overgrown, the game that had lived in the woods no longer managed or controlled. The large house itself looked desolate and abandoned, though it had once held grand balls. In fact even from a distance it looked as though part of the building had been consumed by fire. It was unknown who owned or looked after the estate now. The catacombs that sprawled out below the estate were just as desolate. No one had been down here for a long time, unless you counted the spiders and bats making it their home.
The tunnels were almost labyrinthine, though if followed correctly, at least half the paths, or at least those not collapsed by time, lead to a central point. A large room, with a high ceiling. In the centre of this room was a stone coffin, around it many statues, elegant and beautiful even in their weathering by time. There were also many candelabras, and in them, as well as scattered around the statues, and the stone coffin were the remains of long melted candles. Even some long withered flowers sat on top of the lid to the coffin in a circle.
There was writing in the stone which once the dust and debris of time were swept aside would read.
"Here sleeps Lord Lucien Bastista. Long did he fight against the dark. Now deep in his long deserved rest. Pray he remains undisturbed. For he is guarded by a blood hungry beast."
Even the name 'Bastista' was engraved in legend. A clan of monster hunters, for centuries they had stood against Vampires, Werewolves, and Demons. Defending the common people against the darkness. Lucien Bastista however become of particular note in the families long history. He was said to have been the last son of the Bastista family. A man who had died 100 years prior in a fight against a mighty Vampire Lord. Legends immortalised him as someone who was lightning fast, exceptionally skilled with just about any weapon he picked up, merciless against the creatures of the dark, and above all cunning and quick thinking.
Curiously no records or legends told the story of how he had actually died. Just that he had been felled by a Vampire Lord, that many theorised had been Lord Garrett Lamine, and that Lord Lamine had interred Lucien in a crypt below his own residence like a sort of trophy.
As for this blood hungry beast his epitaph warned of, it appeared to be nowhere to be seen. The coffin was old, but provided Victor was strong enough, it was reasonable to assume he could push the lid from it.
If he did so, he's hear a sharp click as the stone lid came loose, runes along the rim of the coffin begin to light up slowly one by one. Inside lay not the decomposed skeletal remains of a long passed Lord, but the body of a man probably in his late twenties, with blond hair, looking like he could just be sleeping, or as if he had passed just days ago, and not a century. He was dressed in a simple white open collared shirt, and black trousers. His hands clasped over his lower chest. A sword slotted either side of him. Just as perplexing was that the entire inside of the coffin was lined with white lilies which looked as pristine as the supposed corpse.
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Post by Grimm on Nov 10, 2018 13:13:55 GMT
Victor paused as he surveyed the room, even in his desperate search he was still more than a little cautious. The thunder raging topside echoed in the underground, it’s rumbling disturbing the dust. This place looked like it was once well maintained, Victor noted as he walked forward to the coffin. Was he really about to do this? Rob a grave? He hesitated pushing the lid off, but he finally did and prepared himself to find the grisly remains that had been entombed there.
Imagine his shock when the body he uncovered had been perfectly preserved, the white lilies perfume spilled out into the room. Victor was so preoccupied he didn’t notice the glow of the runes alone the rim of the coffin. He worked up the courage to inspect the body closer, unsure if what he was seeing was real. Perhaps this wasn’t a body, maybe it was a statue…or wax; Victor recalled the wax figures he saw during an art exhibition in Paris. It was unsettling to say the least, Victor felt like the corpse could open his eyes at any moment and any loud noise might wake him. What he would give for a decomposed body instead of this sleeping beauty.
Finally his eyes laid on what he had come here for, the weapons of a Vampier Hunter. Thunder rumbled through the catacombs once again while Victor wrestled with the moral dilemma of robbing this mans grave, but what choice did he have. Victor began to reach for the weapons, but the faintest of sounds caught his attention. Predatory instinct began to kick in and Victor found himself climbing on top of the coffin, the faint sound of a heartbeat, blood pumping through beautifully delicious veins. Before he knew what he was doing the scarlet elixir was pouring into his parched mouth, he couldn’t stop himself. It was the most satisfying taste he had ever experienced and he just couldn’t stop.
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Post by Behax on Nov 10, 2018 14:55:53 GMT
A hundred years ago Lord Lucien Bastista had grown tired of the weight his family name carried, and that of the expectation of his family members. He'd asked a friend to put him in a deep, almost stasis like sleep, and not wake him until all that remained of his family was dust. The runes lighting up along the coffin's edge were actually a counter spell to end Lucien's stasis. Though that didn't matter once Victor sunk his fangs into the sleeping man's flesh.
Whatever Lucien had expected, however he'd conceived his eventual awakening would be, it was not that he'd be suddenly awoken by a blood starved vampire. His eyes shot open the moment he felt fangs pierce his skin, and sucked in a sharp breath, his first breath in a hundred years. For a moment he was paralysed by the shock and long time spent asleep.
"Hey..." His voice was weak from a century of disuse. "Hey thats....." He could feel movement gradually returning to his body. "Thats enough!" Lucien managed to pull one of his legs up to his chest and use it to kick Victor away from him. The moment he was free from the vampire, he pulled his swords from the sides of the coffin and got up. Though he soon fell onto one knee, breathing heavily. A century of rest, and another vampire draining him of blood on top of that, left Lucien in a weakened state.
His eyes briefly glew red, but the colour soon faded to an almost crystal blue. The red only remaining as a ring around the outside of his iris. "W-who....Are you?" He asked raising one sword and pointing it at Victor. He remained half kneeling on his own coffin.
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Post by Grimm on Nov 10, 2018 23:19:11 GMT
Lucien’s words barely registered with Victor as he was greedily sucking the blood from Lucien’s neck. It wasn’t until he was kicked off that his senses began to return to him. He picked himself up off the floor his mind catching up to what had just happened, the horrified look crossing his young pale face. Emerald green eyes that would remind one of high mountain lakes looked at the awaken man kneeling in the coffin and in fear at the weapons that were pointed at him.
“Victor Dardariel.” He brought his hand up to wipe the blood away from his lips, while his other hand when up to show he meant no harm. Even with the cloak that was draped across his shoulders it was evident his slender frame held almost feminine type curves. “I didn’t mean to…I wasn’t expecting to find a person. I’ve never…I couldn’t.” Victor was fumbling over the words, his face holding such expression when he spoke. He was a vampire that had just bitten a man sleeping in a vampire hunters grave and who presumably was Lucien Bastista. Long strands of black hair that seemed impossible to tangle clung in the remains of what use to be a neatly kept bun. If it wasn’t for the slight bump of an adam’s apple he could be easily mistaken for a woman. He was dressed rather practically for being out in the wood, although the quality of craftsmenship it was obvious he had a bit of money. Dirt was smudged across his forehead and other parts of his face, the past two days really showed.
“I’m sorry; it wasn’t my intention - God I’m failing at this.” Victor looked away from the man he had bitten trying to collect his thoughts in a precise way through the terror he was feeling. “Until a few weeks ago I thought vampires were just stories, myths to scare your little sister at night. But here I am, just bitten the neck of Lucien Bastista a Vampire Hunter who’s been dead for centuries.” Thunder boomed away overhead as Victor tried to explain his reason for trying to rob his grave. If that is what it really was.
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Post by Behax on Nov 11, 2018 14:40:05 GMT
Lucien watched Victor keenly, it was unmistakable the look in his eyes. The look of a man who was waiting for a creature to strike. He fully expected that Victor would try to attack him. He didn't drop his guard even as fear crossed the other man's features. That could easily be a ruse.
His expression twitched with the faint traces of recognition. Lucien knew that surname 'Dardariel' was a minor Lordship, though he couldn't remember a 'Victor' being among them. Clearly some time had passed since he was laid to sleep....But how much?
Gradually his posture relaxed, though not completely. As Victor spoke, Lucien eased himself out of his kneeling position and stepped down from the stone coffin with a strange grace. He didn't take his eyes off the other man as he spoke, taking in bits of information from what was being said. He still had one of his swords pointed at Victor. He pressed the tip to his neck, and used it to tilt Victor's face upwards so they were both locking eyes.
"So....Let me get this right. A Newling discovered the resting place of Lucien Bastista, and goes there to what? Rob the man's corpse? Instead he finds a sleeping man, and so hungry for blood looses himself and decides to take a bite?" He looked intensely at Victor, as if interogating him with just his eyes. He took in the man's condition, and the way he was dressed, and what he carried with him, as well as the way he trembled.
Something seemed to satisfy Lucien, for he eventually pulled his sword away, and looped both blades into his belt, as he had no sheaths. He cast his eyes around the crypt they stood in, and noted his unkept appearance. "And where is Lord Lamine might I ask?"
At no point did Lucien actually confirm his identity while speaking, nor explain why he wasn't as dead as he should be.
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Post by Grimm on Nov 11, 2018 17:30:03 GMT
Victor was doing his best to settle his nerves, but the sword that was now at his neck and tilting his face upward wasn’t helping. Even if there was fright written across his sylphlike brows, the emerald pure pools were almost luminescent with determination. Victor was a painter, he wasn’t a fighter but he also wasn’t a coward. He needed those weapons to kill that man. “That about sums it up, yes.” Victor replied eager to turn his eyes away from those eerie blue and red orbs of Lucien, his hand going to rub his neck the moment the blade had been taken away.
“Lord Lamine? If you mean the Master of this estate,” He shook his head, “this place has been abandoned for generations. I only found you because I was looking for weapons that might slay the man who did this to me.” Victor was still having a hard time processing that he was having a conversation with a man who was supposedly dead. Maybe he had just lost his mind after being lost for the past two days in this underground crypt. “No, I’ve lost my mind…you’re dead. I’m talking to a figment of my imagination…” But Victor knew that wasn’t the case, he could still taste the sweet beautiful delicious blood in the corners of his mouth.
“Are you really Lucien Bastista? You’re not just some weirdo that likes to sleep in coffins in the middle of abandoned ruins?” Victor looked at him questioningly, crossing his long arms in front of his chest.
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Post by Behax on Nov 11, 2018 19:15:05 GMT
Lucien had his back to Victor when he said the estate had been abandoned for generations, so the newly turned vampire didn't see the brief expression of worry that crossed his features. He'd pulled himself back together before turning back around.
"Oh I'm very real, and very much....Alive," Lucien replied, walking back over to his coffin, and rummaging around in the bed of lilies, searching for something. "Isn't it much more interesting if I let you work that out for yourself?" He jested in response to Victor's question. He pulled out a sort of harness from the coffin and pulled it on. It was made of leather and had a number of daggers strapped into each side, which followed the curve of Lucien's ribs as he pulled the harness on.
He then returned to rummaging in the coffin, eventually pulling out a bottle, that looked like a deep red wine. "Ah Garrett you are a life saver," he commented to himself, kissing the bottle. He pulled the cork out and discarded it. The immediate sent was indeed of wine, but after a short while Victor would be able to sense the faint smell of blood too.
He began to walk away, turning to Victor before leaving the room. "Come one, follow me if you don't want to stay lost down here. I know the fastest way out." He beckoned Victor with a hand, before then taking a deep swig from the bottle he carried. Walking as he drank.
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Post by Grimm on Nov 13, 2018 4:07:09 GMT
Victor’s expression pulled into a tight frown. He really had no choice but to follow the newly awaken corpse, but he did so in a sort of sour mood. He could smell the wine and the blood from the bottle Lucien drank as he lead the way. Victor wasn’t a drinker, his father had done plenty of that for the entire family when he was alive. But he was also cold. He tighten his cloak around his slender frame. The cold chill that would nip away at your bones had gone unnoticed until Victor fed, the warm fresh blood that pumped through him reminded him of the small things that it meant to be human.
Victor let the silence drag on, the closer they got to the entrance, the louder the sound of the downpour outside got and thunder warned how vengeful the lightening was in their strikes. “I didn’t mean to bite you, I just - well I haven’t fed since he turned me,” Victor shivered in his cloak. “I’m regretting it now.” He muttered in protest to the cold.
“So Mr. Bastista, if you really indeed are him, how did you come to find yourself asleep in a coffin in the catacombs of an abandoned ruin? You don’t seem very surprised at the situation you find yourself in….so why do all the history books say you died?” Victor was still keen on finding a solution to his ordeal. Having the weapons would be great, but having an expert that could use them - Victor could only hope he could be so lucky. He let the rest of his hair our of the bun, the ravenous black tendrils shifted through his fingers as he brushed it over to one side.
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Post by Behax on Nov 13, 2018 21:31:07 GMT
Lucien confidently led the way through the crypt, as though he knew the place like the back of his own hand. Twice he had to turn back and find another path, but not because he'd gotten lost, simply because he found his path unexpectedly blocked by a cave in. It seemed to hinder him little however, as he quickly navigated a new path.
He was content to let the silence linger on until Victor finally spoke up again. He stopped and turned abruptly when Victor mentioned not having fed since the night he'd been turned. "Here, drink this," Lucien said holding out the bottle, it was perhaps a quarter empty already.
"It wasn't a ruin when I was put to sleep," he answered simply, still holding out the bottle. "Mr Dardariel have you ever felt the weight of expectation? So crushing that you feel it might suffocate you? My family had high expectations of me, expectations which only grew. I sought to escape them and the restraints they put on me, and a.....friend was only too happy to oblige. " He paused for a moment. "History is full of many false truths and hidden things, I wouldn't take all that you've read at face value. Now....I would much like to find out what has happened to my good friend," he said with a sort of lazy smile, before leading the way out.
Above ground the storm was much louder as it raged. However Lucien was unperturbed by this, in fact he walked out into the pouring rain with his arms spread wide, letting the biting rain and wind hit him. It had after all been a long time since he'd felt such things.
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Post by Grimm on Nov 14, 2018 2:34:59 GMT
Victor made a look of disgust when Lucien offered him the bottle, however he took it anyway. Subconsciously he wrestled with drinking it, after all a dude he just woke from the dead had it hidden in his coffin. He could smell the scent of lilies still on it. He sniffed at it’s liquid contents suspiciously, before taking a few gulps of it and handed it back to him. The wine made him gag a little, while the hint of blood left him craving more. There were only more questions when Lucien explained why he was down there. Victor had wanted to escape family responsibility more than anyone, he tugged at his left sleeve; only his escape involved drugs and pain. Perhaps that was why he was such an easy target for the man who had turned him.
Victor watched Lucien lovingly embrace the storms raging howl. A celebration of nature in all her wondrous glory; it was a scene that left Victor feeling a little hallow inside. He had no love for life’s experiences, he only felt the dread of perpetual loneliness. Being a vampire was not something that appealed to him, eternity certainly didn’t. Victor pulled up his hood before stepping into the rain, his cloak had been treated with wax so the water beaded off the wool fabric, providing Victor with some creature comforts of staying dry.
“After you’ve satisfied your curiosity, I would like to invite you back to my home.” Victor’s voice tried to compete with the howling wind. “I am in need of council from a man with your particular skills and expertise. I could compensate you for your time.” Victor yelled, clutching the opening of his hood tightly to keep it from blowing off his head. It was madness to be standing out in this storm and Victor moved to the nearest cover.
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Post by Behax on Nov 14, 2018 19:52:54 GMT
It took mere seconds for Lucien to be soaked through. His white shirt clinging tightly to his skin, becoming slightly see through in places, while also revealing his slender but well muscled frame. Similarly his blond locks clung to his face and neck, perfectly framing his blue and red eyes. Being soaked was a look that suited him.
When Victor spoke Lucien began to move again. Though it was unclear if he'd actually heard the other man over the sounds of the storm, as he gave no reply. Slowly he began to walk towards the house in the distance. However as the building came into view, and gradually became clearer to see, Lucien's posture began to change. From loose and carefree to stiff and ridged. His pace quickening as the damage to the manor became clear. It became obvious that as some point a fire had ripped through part of the building, and much of the rest was unmaintained and overgrown with plants.
They reached a set of stone stairs leading to the main front doors, and Lucien took them at a run, throwing the doors open. Inside was dark and eerily silent despite the storm. Dust and debris littered the floor. Shelves were topped and books and paper lay decaying on the floor. A chandelier which as some point must have been a marvel to see, lay broken and shattered in the middle of the entrance way. Even now years after Lord Garret Lamine's fabled disappearance, there were signs that there had been a fight here, and one of no small consequence. There were cracks and scratches up the walls, and along the floors. There were areas where plants too were growing along the walls and across the ceilings, slowly reclaiming the abandoned house.
Lucien took it all in which shocked, worried eyes. He didn't quite believe what he was seeing, despite Victor having told him the place was long abandoned. He stepped into the foyer, before rushing off again, and leaving Victor behind. He skirted around the fallen chandelier and rushed up the central stairs. He leapt over any obstacles in his way, before ending up in front of another large set of doors. He pushed them open and stepped into a large ballroom, where he then froze in place, as if paralysed.
On the floor, written in blood so old it had turned black were the words. "Welcome back Lucy."
And past the morbid message at the back of the room was the decayed skeletal corpse of a man, pinned to the wall as if on display by a well decorated sword. The message and this corpse had clearly been there for some time.
Wordlessly Lucien began to step into the room, water pooling in his footsteps as it ran from his soaked clothes.
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Post by Grimm on Nov 15, 2018 3:33:50 GMT
Victor wasn’t sure if Lucien had heard him or not over the storm, but where ever Lucien went Victor was soon to follow, although he was in no rush to catch up to Lucien. Being an artist, Lucien’s drenched physique wasn’t wasted on Victor’s eyes. Neither was the decrepit beauty of the abandoned house. The fight that took place here was brutal, Victor could only imagine what kind of animal might have done that.
Through another set of doors and Victor stopped just on the other side taking in the grizzly scene as an outsider. The skeletal corpse pinned to the other side of the room, unsettled Victor. With his experience with corpses lately, they seem to come alive. Although that one looked properly dead. The flasks of lightning played tricks with the shadows in the corners of the room, the ominous message obviously meant for Lucien - he could only guess that it was someone that Lucien knew well. And he could only guess who was dead on the wall, perhaps it was this Lord Lamine, Lucien had asked about earlier.
As ghastly as the scene was, Victor found a morbid elegance and grace in it. It reminded him of the things he had painted that he kept in his private collection in the attic. They were not the fake grandeur of glamour that his clients so craved, they were not the works he intended to sell or even see the light of day. They were his demons that he had to expel and sometimes that would be in the obsessive focus of a drug-fueled rampage of canvas and paper for days at a time. They were terrifying and they were magnificence. This horrible scene moved him, inspired him. And it sickened him.
“Did you know him?” Victor asked no longer having to compete with the storm.
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Post by Behax on Nov 15, 2018 22:02:45 GMT
The flashing of lightning streaking through the skies cast brief flashes of light through the room. Illuminating for seconds at a time what once had been a marvellous ballroom, the walls decorated with paintings, once a sight to behold, many now slashed and destroyed. The largest of all was a painting which hung on the wall directly above where the corpse was pinned. It was splattered with blood, but otherwise undamaged. It depicted two men, standing close to each other, each with an arm wrapped around the back of the other, hands resting on each other's hips. Positioned in such a way that suggested not only familiarity but also intimacy. One man was slim with blond hair and almost haunting blue eyes, encircled with a thin red line. The other was taller and a little more stocky. His hair dark, and his eyes brown. He had a thick beard that travelled down his sideburns and followed around into a moustache, though his chin was shaven. Both men wore a soft sort of smile, and clothes befitting of nobility.
The way the corpse was positioned below this painting, even the way the blood sprayed up the wall and across the canvas, was clearly a deliberate display. Left here for someone.
Lucien didn't answer Victor's question, however it wasn't even as if he needed to. The bottle of blood wine slipped from Lucien's grip as he approached the morbid display. The bottle didn't shatter, the it clung loudly as it hit the floor, and the liquid inside began to pour out over the floor.
Finally Lucien had closed in on the skeletal remains. He gingerly put out a hand, cupping the skeletal face. Tears began to run down his already dampened face.
"I'm sorry..." His voice was hushed, and it was clear he wasn't speaking to Victor. "I'm....Sorry." His voice shook. "You did all that you could....Protected me while I slept...I'm sorry I wasn't here to return the favour...."
For a while Lucien was silent, and looked for all the world like a broken man. Lightning continued to race across the sky, and the thunder that followed seemed so far off. After what must have seemed like an age in the almost oppressive silence, Lucien reached out again. This time taking one of the skeletal hands in his own. He ran his fingers over the bones, before leaning down to kiss the hand. He slipped a gold ring from one of the bony fingers, and slipped it onto his own hand. Curiously onto his ring finger, where it joined a silver band already seated there. Then he stood. He took a breath as if bracing himself, and then pulled the sword from its perch, causing the skeletal remains to crumple to the floor.
Finally Lucien turned his attention back to Victor. The blue of his eyes was slowly being tainted by the red, as his grief transformed into rage. "I will formally introduce myself."
"I am Lord Lucien Bastista, and I would know if the vampire who turned you was named Lord Walter D'Glace?" There was a cold sharp edge to his tone. A murderous intent.
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Post by Grimm on Nov 16, 2018 3:11:06 GMT
It wasn’t hard to see that the deceased man had been deeply loved by Lucien, and even blind man could see the resemblance in the portrait above the terrible display. Victor could feel his grief almost as if it was his own. His own unseating heart ached terribly for Lucien. When his mother suddenly died from a mysterious illness and then his sister out of her mind with grief drowned herself in the nearby pond. He didn’t want to rip the scab off that wound. He turned his attention away to give Lucien privacy, only turning back when the corpse fell to the floor.
And Victor froze. The way Lucien looked at him made him want to crawl under the nearest rock, terror and dread crashed over him in a tidal wave he hadn’t been prepared for. Nor was he prepare for Lucien to blurt out the very name of the man who turned him into a vampire. Victor nodded hesitantly unsure if the answer would get him killed. “I had met him several months ago during the Queen’s 18th birthday, he expressed an interest in having his portrait painted. He came to my home a month ago,” Victor was omitting the details at how he had been practically swept off his feet. D’Glace had come prepared for a Host such a Victor, the finest of drugs, the deepest and darkest of conversations. His guest fueled his depression and embraced his suffering. Not only had D’Glace stolen his humanity but his virginity as well. “He turned me and disappeared a few days after. That was two weeks ago.”
Victor felt the need to explain, he didn’t like being looked at with murderous intent. He held his palms outward. “I came looking for weapons that could kill vampires. I certainly didn’t know you were down there. It was only by dumb luck that the Lamine Estate bordered the Dardariel Territories.” He recalled seeing the name of the property of the original deeds to his family home. “I want to be human again. I never wanted to be this.” Victor wore his heart of his sleeve. He could only hope there was a way. He had read somewhere that killing the vampire who turned a victim would return the person to their human state. God he hoped that to be true.
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