The Anointed Prince of Dragons: Chapter 5.

When Vladimir arrived at the Native's Camp, it was littered with the bodies of their fallen, men, women, and children alike, as he'd commanded, yet the sound of battle still rang in the air, and he saw men rushing towards him, burning alive, but they were not truly alive. They were the men he had raised, and apparently the living Natives had discovered one of the weaknesses of all undead; fire. Vladimir formed a scowling frown upon his face, thoroughly displeased by the ultimate failure of the warriors whom he had raised. He reached out his hands, as they tried to run past, and that foul magic which had raised them, like crimson lightning, was siphoned from out of their walking corpses and into Vladimir, through his very fingertips.

They fell down, now not but simple corpses once more, and Vladimir began to walk towards the direction they'd fled from. Even as he walked, fire-arrows flew at him. With his speed like a shadow, he side-stepped to avoid one, then another, continuing to make his way boldly towards the danger with his hands clasped behind his back. He began to chant as he walked, in an ancient language long forgotten by man, but taught to him long ago.

As he chanted, appearing in one place, then the next whilst avoiding the arrows, still walking slowly otherwise, thunder could be heard as storm clouds came together in the sky overhead. Rain began to pour down, harder than what was natural, bombarding the area. The fire of their arrows and their camp was soon put out, and they turned to fled, but Vladimir would not allow their hostility to go unpunished.

Lightning fell down, as he continued to chant, striking all around, hitting tents and natives alike. From out of the corner of his eye, Vladimir saw the Chief coming at him with his tomahawk, eyes filled with righteous anger towards the man who was murdering his people. Vladimir turned and reached out with his vile hemomancy, which granted him his power to control blood. This man's death would be excruciating indeed, as Vladimir lifted him up and caused his blood to boil in his very veins, even as he levitated him towards himself.

Once the Chief was within reach, he put his right hand upon the man's bare chest, over his heart, and soon dug into the flesh with his claws, forcing his long, clawed fingers into the Native's Chest until he clutched his beating heart. "Thump, thump, thump, thump…" Vladimir chanted, mimicking the sound of a heartbeat, as he looked into the man's eyes with his own, burning through those windows into his very soul.

"And…" Vladimir began, then suddenly looked past the man. One of the natives, fearful but bold, was aiming one of their arrows right at his head. It was a woman, very fair to the eyes. Her red skin was so smooth, and her facial features were as though they had been sculpted by the creator himself. She had long black hair, down to her very waist, and eyes like fine emeralds. She had a somewhat more athletic figure than one might have expected of women at the time, but her figure was no less feminine.

She spoke in her language, a language which Vladimir knew by the memories in the blood he'd taken from the other Natives. In English, the translation was, "Let my father go." She spoke as calmly as she could, though her eyes were filled with fear and hatred. Vladimir stood there, still clutching the Chief's chest, and a devious smirk formed upon his face. "Your father? How very interesting…" He said, intrigued, before returning his gaze to the man.

He stared intensely into his eyes, which had gone wide at the realization that this evil man seemed to have some wicked intent for his daughter. Vladimir returned his gaze to the woman and finally spoke to her again, "Your weapon will do no good against me, my dear, but I am willing to negotiate his release." At this, her father called out, "Aiyana, run!" but she would not.

"What do you want?" She asked the man, who then withdrew his claws from the man's chest and used his blood magic to heal the wound, just enough so that he'd live, before tossing him aside. He hit the ground with a thud, still too weak to move. "In exchange for my sparing of your father's life, you will submit yourself to me and be one of my wives. You will share in my immortality, and you will be unwaveringly faithful and obedient to me. If you refuse, then your father's life is forfeit."

Aiyana stood there, her expression stoic, her eyes narrowed as she considered this. In the end, she knew she did not have a choice, if she wanted to save her father. She dropped her bow, and the arrow as well, then walked slowly towards this man, dressed in all black, blending with the dark of the woods.

She fell to both knees before him and lowered her head. "If you will let my father live, then I am yours for as long as you will have me." Her voice was like one broken, and tears began to form in her eyes. Though she did not want this fate; a life bound to such a man as this, she would do anything to keep her beloved father safe.

Vladimir chuckled in a devious manner, then side-glanced at her father as that smirk formed again. "You will watch this." He said, before using his blood magic to lift her up off of her feet, levitating her in the air. He pulled her forth, and into an embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around her as he leaned his head over his shoulder, turning it to whisper into her ear. "Now, you will become like me." He sighed in such a soft, sensual manner into her ear.

Aiyana shivered at this, filled with fear, then suddenly the Vampire bit down into the side of her neck. The flowing of blood into his mouth was quickened by his magic, until she was completely exsanguinated, a husk like so many before. He released her to fall to the ground, lifeless, before he slit his wrist with one of his claws. He manipulated his own blood, black as tar, and forced it into her open mouth in the form of a funnel, and she regained her beauty once more, as her eyes opened to reveal crimson irises. Her skin had paled, though the red complexion remained somewhat as an undertone.

She looked upon her new master, whom she found herself unable to feel anything but devotion towards. She walked towards him, and pushed herself against him, her hands upon his shoulders, feeling them. "I have awoken to serve you, always." She found herself saying, her mind overcome with intense feelings of obsession for this man, not love, for love could not be forced upon another by any man.

Vladimir moved his hands to her waist as she rested her head upon his chest, then he turned his head again and looked upon her father with that smug, devious smirk. "I said that I would let him live, but surely my dear, you must be very thirsty." He said, ever so suggestively, to which came the realization by Aiyana that he was right. "Yes, I am terribly thirsty." She admitted, but there was no living man around from whom she could drink.

There was no man, but her father. She turned her head to him, eyes glowing brightly as they fell upon him. "So thirsty…" She said, releasing Vladimir and turning to walk slowly towards her father. "This thirst… I cannot control it…" She said, as tears of blood began to trickle down her cheeks. "Aiyana… please…" Her father pleaded with her, tears now filling his own eyes as well. What this monster had done was unspeakable.

Like a shadow, nigh as fast as Vladimir himself, she rushed forth and grasped his throat, lifting him up by it and looking up into his eyes, through tears. "I'm so sorry, father…" she said, helpless to stop herself, before she brought him close to bite into the side of his shoulder, sicking her fangs deep within and draining him to the point of death, before letting him go to fall to the ground. She looked down upon him, sorrow and self hatred overwhelming her for what she had done.

She turned to Vladimir, looking upon him as though she were a puppy that had been kicked by its master. "Why?" She asked him, to which he answered coldly. "Why what? It was not I who killed him, but you. I kept my word, saying that I would spare him. I never said that you would, or anyone else for that matter."

She fell to her knees again, and her hands fell upon the ground as she wept. "Is there no way for me to end my life, now that I have accepted your curse?" She asked, desperate for some form of freedom, of escape, now that she had taken her own father's life. Vladimir began to walk towards her, slowly, his grace ever belying his darkness. He knelt down before her, on one knee, and reached for her chin to lift her head so she would face him, as he gently cupped it. "Not against my will…" He said, and that cruel smirk returned again. Aiyana closed her eyes upon hearing those words. Though they crushed her spirit all the more, the sound of her master's voice was strangely soothing, even knowing what he was.

With her father and many of her tribesmen dead, their camp destroyed, she had nothing left; nothing but him. He was the only one she had left, in this whole world, and even for all the evil he had done to her, she found it impossible to resent him. Now, broken and defeated, tears of blood still staining her face from how desperately she'd wept, she gave herself to the man, and the two became as one flesh.