C H A P T E R 2

Vladimir Bloodthorn

hangs over him like gray clouds that lurk around in the sky. The scarlet red irises in his eyes hatefully glare at the scene in front of him. His skin paler than snow itself. His lips curled up in a devilish smirk. Running his tongue over his razor sharp canines. Making his enemies aware of the agonizing pain he can inflict upon them with them. His body sitting on a stone carved throne and decorated with the bones of his enemies to show exactly how powerful he is.

A man dressed in a long pitch black hooded cloak on both his knees in front of the King. His head looking down at the stone tiled floor as he cowers in fear and shame. "My Lord, forgive her. She knew nothing of her ways and should never have acted out the way she did. Please accept our apologies and have mercy, My Lord" The man's voice shakes with fear along with himself. Never lifting his head while speaking. The King on his throne lifts his right leg up and crosses it over his left one. His hateful glare has turned into disgust.

"Yes. She never should have done that and yet she did. Disrespecting her King and now she shall pay" His words are radiating with energy and strength. The fury burning in his scarlet red eyes showing a great deal of power. Sending the man cowering and wailing. "With her life" He finishes and a wicked grin plastered on his face. Both his hand on the arms of the throne. One of his fingers tapping the stone with his fingernail in boredom knowing what is to come. The man on the floor bowing snaps his head towards the powerful King.

"Please have mercy, have mercy on her. She's just a child. She never meant for this to happen. Have mercy on her" He begs and pleads to the King with tears streaming down his face. Showing his weakness and how much of a coward he is to the King. "Then you should have schooled her better. Her mistake is not hers alone but yours" He tells the poor man as he can only let the wicked grin grow into one of mischief as the ideas of evil swirl in his mind. The face of the man pales when he hears the man on the throne speak.

The amount of authority in his voice alone sends the kneeling man trembling with fear of him. The King nods his head at two guards by the door that march right to the man after receiving the signal. Harshly lifting the man by his arms they drag him pleading and begging for his life but the King has had enough of him. The doors slam closed when the guards leave with the man and leave the King alone in the large throne room. Uncrossing his legs he sighs before he stands up from his throne.

He walks down the three stairs that lift his throne higher up for everyone to be able to see him and to show people that he is powerful and he is the King. His scarlet red eyes filled with rage that needs to be unleashed on the world and the blood-thirst living inside him begs him to slaughter some beings. Walking to the same door that the guards had previously gone through with the man. The doors open for him as guards on the other side hold it open for him as he walks through and they close them behind him.

His head high as he walks down a dark and gloomy hallway. No lights nor fire lighting up the hallways and he doesn't need them. His scarlet red eyes give him the ability to see in the darkness as if it were lights all around him. The hallways are all the same and all empty. No decorations on the walls. The floor is dark out wood covered with red carpet that dresses the whole floor. His footsteps echo loudly in the hallways as he walks around a corner. In front of him is another hallway and down it is a large wooden door.

Opening the door and closing it behind himself he's met with the darkness inside the room as no light source lives in there. His mouth forms into a smirk. "You are not welcome here" He speaks as another person is inside the room. His scarlet eyes scan the place and when they see exactly who is there, he can only roll his eyes. Taking a few steps towards a wooden chair by a wooden table he sits down. "You're awfully grumpy this night. How about I take you out of this Hellhole tomorrow" The person inside the room speaks.

"No. Someone needs to rule this Hellhole" He says as he rolls his eyes. He takes a paper from the table and starts reading the writing that is written on there. "Come on Vlad, have a little fun instead of being old grumpy bat" The person speaks. Vladimir lets out a groan. "My name is Vladimir and will you shut up if I agree?" He asks annoyed. Focusing on the paper is hard to do when someone trying to distract him and the entire kingdom depends on him and finishing the paperwork. Ruling isn't just sitting on a high throne and controlling.

"Of course, Vlad. Scouts honor" The person speaks, annoying the King even further. "Fine then, I agree. Now leave, Killian. I'm busy" Vladimir speaks to Killian who is lying down on his bed looking extremely bored. "You won't regret this" He says as he stands up from the bed and walks towards the door. "And for the record you were never a Boy Scout" Vladimir calls after him while Killian opens the door but stops in his tracks. "Well, it's never too late, busy pants" He jokes then leaves the room before the King could release the anger inside on him. He lightly chuckles at his friend's weird behavior before he returns to the paper.

The shadowy castle dungeon filled with tortured souls. Crimson blood both old and new staining the stone walls. Human skeletons scattered on the dirt covered ground in every dungeon cell. Bars made out of pure iron makes the cells. The scent of death and decay lingers in the air like a shadow that never leaves. No light shines in as no windows or opening have been built or made. The ones in those cells are given fate worse than death.

Vladimir walks in the hallway of the dungeon. On both sides of him are cells filled with prisoners that he himself has ordered to be put there. The look of excitement forms on his face as his eyes see the pale faces of the ones he shall soon punish for their crimes. The ground beneath his feet dirty and disgusting yet he does not care, he walks down deeper into the dungeon depths. The darkness all around as his scarlet red eyes guide him through the dungeon hallway.

Reaching the furthest cell from the beginning of the dungeon and the cell that is the only one guarded. Standing in front of the one guard that is by the iron door that leads into the cell. The King nods at the guard and he opens the door for him and he walks inside while the guard closes the door right behind him. The scent of fresh blood fills his nostrils and the hunger rises within him. The sharp canines craving to be set free. A evil smirk on his face as he hears people groan in pure agony. The fear in the room only bringing him joy.

People in there are Blood Slaves that feed him when he's thirsty for blood or bored with his duties as King. Twenty of twenty five of those who are in there are still breathing and those who are cower in fear of him. No one wanting to be picked as a Blood Slave to the King. He walks around the room and looks at each and every one of them. Man or women they are all his Blood Slaves which he can choice from. The faces are pale and tried and the look of pure fright never leaves them.

"Which one of you like to become snack?" He asks out into the air. The people shiver and weep when they hear his voice, they tremble by the sound of his name and cower in fear by the sole presence of him. His smirk only grows. "No one? I guess I will just have to pick you all" He says and some yelp with fear by thinking of the pain he will be inflicting upon them when he chooses them to become Blood Slaves. Still walking around he stops in front of a man. The same man that was bowing before him only few hours before.

The man sits on the dirt ground and still wearing his pitch black hooded cloak. A figure behind him clutching his cloak like their lives depend on it. A girl in her teens. Her copper colored hair tangled and tears staining her frightened face. A girl he's rather familiar with. "Now here are familiar faces" He says and a spark lights in his eyes as the thoughts of murder flash before them. Both of them shiver out in fear and attempt to back away from the man responsible for their fear.

"Please have mercy" The man begs to him. He rolls his eyes at the man that still thinks he can plead for his life but it doesn't work like that. The other people in the room shake their heads knowing that this will not end well for the man nor the girl. Before the man has any time to react the King picks him up by his cloak. The girl falls down to the ground and back slightly away. Using only one hand he holds the man up to his level and gives a smirk as if he weights no more than a feather.

Using his other hand he rips the hood off the man showing his face. Opening his mouth and showing his shiny canine fangs he doesn't hesitate to sink them into the flesh in the neck of the man. Piercing his skin harshly and fast. The man screams in pure agony as the man has buried his fangs deep inside his flesh. The King begins to drink the savory metallic crimson liquid. The girl on the ground lets out a high-pitched scream as she watches this happen right in front of her face but no one cares about it.

The man slowly begins to lose the fight for his life and soon the light in his eyes fades away into oblivion and he falls limp in Vladimir's hand. Taking his head out of his neck he licks his sharp canines with his tongue to get rid of the blood. Dropping the man on the ground he falls limp and stays there with hints of blood where his two fangs have pierced his skin and are two deep holes surrounded by the crimson liquid. The girl lets out a wince and then breaks out into sobs and the salty tears run endlessly down her cheeks.

Vladimir's mouth and chin covered in blood as it leaks down to the ground and sinks into the dirt that has seen so much of blood and almost stained with it. "Let this be lesson to all... I don't do mercy" He says to them all before he turns around and walks back to the iron door. The guard opens the door for the cruel King and he walks back into the dungeon, leaving the poor girl weeping for her father and the other people scared out of their minds and that only puts a wicked smirk on his face as he feeds on fear. His thirst for blood still inside him and a slaughter massacre is what he needs to satisfy his uncontrollable thirst. The blood-thirsty Vladimir is the feared Vampire King.