C H A P T E R 8

Vladimir Bloodthorn

Vladimir mentally groans because of his friend. "Do not start" He warns but only gets a dark chuckle from Killian. "But, damn, that Werewolf does look tasty. Doesn't it?" He asks the King on the high throne who rolls his eyes. Getting on his nerves as always. "Yes, unfortunately I do need to agree with you but I will not say it twice, that Werewolf belongs to me and goes untouched by anyone. Do we understand each other?" He asks his friend. His voice goes darker and colder.

His presence alone is too imitating to many and they dig their graves themselves. "Not even one bite? You are losing your touch, used to share but now you keep all the fun to yourself" Killian says. He walks to the middle of the floor. "It even smells like it and it's intoxicating, and I just... love it" He says. Opening his mouth slightly and letting his razor sharp canines show Vladimir uncrosses his legs and stands up from his throne. Strolling down to Killian he stands in front of him with a glare that can kill with one glance.

Before Killian could react his hand goes to his throat and lifts him up into the air like if he were nothing but a light feather. "Do we understand each other?" He calmly but dangerously asks again. The friend he holds by his neck up into the air is unable to speak but does nod and his eyes give an apologetic look, one that no many see in Vampires. Only the one who controls them all. It's for after all a reason why Vladimir is the King and he's known his ruthless and cruel ways which no one dares to cross.

Throwing him across the room he lands harshly on the ground. Grunting and groaning in pain he stands up. "Thank you, I needed to see how dirty the ground is. Dried blood. Do those cleaners do nothing? Perhaps we should kill them..." Killian trails off. Vladimir only chuckles evilly. "Now you come with ideas I like. However... I'm growing short on staff and I'd rather keep those I have" He answers, yet is tempted of his offer as he is in need of some slaughter of any kind. Killian laughs. "You denying killing? Something seriously wrong with you" He speaks. Shaking his head in disbelief.

"Only when it benefits myself, as I'd rather not run out of staff" He says harshly. It is clear in the air around them that it may not be the case why he does not wish to kill as he has been known to murder anyone he wishes, no matter who they are. "I'm growing bored here" Killian says as he turns around to walk out of the throne room, never sparing a second glance at his friend. The fearless King walks over to his stone carved throne and sits down.

Bored and alone he sits there with one leg crossed over the other one and leans back against the stone back of the throne. The doors open and into the darkness three figures walk inside. They all walk to the middle of the floor before they bow down before him. The infamous evil smirk creeps up his lips when feels the power he holds over each one of them. "My Lord, we've come here to ask for your assistance" One of them speaks, fear laced in his voice as his whole body trembles with pure fear. Vladimir darkly chuckles as if this amuses him.

They all bow down lower than before as the fear of him begins to creep into their bones. "You have come to me asking for assistance?" He repeats the words that the Vampire had spoken to him only seconds before. "Y-yes, my Lord" The same one spoke again. His voice barely audible but the King on his throne did hear him. His scarlet red eyes glare at the three Vampires cowering in fright. "I have a whole kingdom on my back, I do not have the time nor need to assist three cowards, now get out of here before you find yourself with a spine!" He threatens his voice low and dark and so twisted.

When the three Vampires stand up and hurry to run out of the throne room in fright he lets out a laugh, so cold and so cruel. The wicked smirk never leaving his pale face as he watches the fright and terror he inspires in others and makes him whole. Boredom has once again formed around him and the life of a King at this week is slow. However so many responsibilities hang over his head and the kingdom is his to rule.

The darkness in the room is slowly becoming brighter and even when the sun is covered up, it does not cover all light and the few rays from the rising run make their way into the room are easily spotted. The light shows how the stone floor is dirtied with not only the dried blood of Valentina which he had refused to get cleaned but also dust and cobwebs that scatter around the throne room and stays there like it belongs to the place. The ruthless King has had enough of his boredom and finds himself standing up and going over to the doors that she had been dragged out of before.

A sweet compelling scent catches his nose and he can't help but follow it. The heavily smell confuses him to the core yet he cannot help himself. The King has not been disoriented in a long time and too arrogant to admit it even to himself. The hallways as dark as always but the darkness has come a comforting invisible friend or a shadow he wishes to never leave even when he cannot see it. The empty hallways welcome him with open arms as he walks down them.

Vladimir's head high as he walks with authority that would put any other to shame. His scarlet red eyes stare ahead with hateful glare. The infamous smirk on his face as all that runs through his mind is that very siren that lures him in like a sailor on a ship lost in the mist of the ocean. It compels him to continue on his way even he is not being forced to do anything. In general no one could force the ruthless Vampire King to be anything he did not want to. There is something inside him that brings to closer to her.

On his face his scarlet red iris catch something on the ground, an object that is reeks of the heavenly scent he can't help himself but follow. Bending down to the ground he picks up the book that was on the floor. Dusting the dirt off the book he reads the title. To kill a mockingbird. Opening the book he also notices the words that are handwritten with care and made with love, yet not that he could understand what that is. When darkness sinks its claw in you, all you have to do is fight back ~ Love dad.

Almost throwing up he closes the book before he sniffs it. A low growl escapes from his as the scent is sot strong for him that he feels like he will soon drown in it but he would rather drown than float. When he looks back down at the book he notices how carefully it has been used, not too bent and not a page is ripped nor ruined. It has been cared for. Shaking his head as these strange thoughts enter his brain and the storm inside his brain makes him want to slice his throat.

His face hardens as the dangerous and sick thoughts enter his mind. Slightly opening his mouth and running his tongue over his razor sharp canines that are begging him to sink them into warm flesh and feed and drain the crimson liquid form the veins and let a body drop down. His blood thirsty fangs are making him want to take a quick trip to the dungeon to murder and slaughter all those who stay there. Holding the book in his arms he continues his way and with each step Vladimir takes the stronger and more intoxicated the scent becomes.

Like a soft melody that pulls him towards her, his body no longer belongs to him as he walks down the dark and gloomy hallways of the castle. Not a soul to be seen nor does he allow anyone to wander the hallways unless given specific orders and if he would find a unauthorized staff member they would surly lose all the crimson red blood flowing through their veins in only mere seconds as it is all it takes for him to end lives and would do so with a wicked grin plastered on his pale skin face.

It doesn't take him long until he has reach his destination. Vladimir stands in front of a old door, too old and almost falling apart yet still usable. The wood has begun to rot away at both ends of the door and the door handle broken in half as the hinges are barely holding the door standing. Opening the door the King is met with a dark room like each and every room of the castle. However this room is the only one that is allowed the raging flames of a fire for the kitchen is the room he is walking into.

A small body lying by a small flame by the fireplace where not only the heat of the room comes from but the fireplace is also used to heat up food and bake. Her back turned to him as she trembles from the freezing cold even when near the flames that provide heat and warmth but it seems she's unable to grasp the heat and keep it. For a moment he stands by the door and looks at her. Listens to hear weak beating heart and her soft breaths as she calmly has fallen into deep slumber.

The scent of her has filled the room and as his ears catches the sound of the blood that flowers through her veins and keep her alive he feels disgusted with himself for thinking about sparing her life. It has rung in his mind and reminding himself that he is the ruthless and the most cutthroat murderer that has walked upon the earth that they have called their home and he does not care for simple nothings like she has become. She is nothing to him and will remain nothing forever. It is the Werewolf blood that he is attracted to.

Vladimir has become addicted to her blood and as an addict he wants more and would go to any lengths to get some, however keeping her alive is a first for him as in order to keep his addiction going he needs to have her heart beating in her chest and air inside her lungs. While her body can be on the brink of death. It does not matter how her health is as long as she breathes and there is a heartbeat. With an evil smirk on his face he imagines him sinking his sharp canines into her flesh and drinking her intoxicated blood that only pulls him closer like a drug should do and he does not deny the attraction that has formed.