Character
profile:
The world of Ankhesenamun
Name:
Ankhesenamun
Born: Transylvania, 1463
It was not a job. Perhaps an
obligation. A penance.
To live as one without soul. To live as one fighting for no reward. To live knowing
there would be no salvation.
Forced to slay countless
horrors. Horrors that would make a human run away screaming. Horrors that she
now knew were in her likeness.
Deep in her was a terrible
sorrow. Buried deep in her mind, in a region she did not dare explore herself.
Not always had she been one of them. Her parents were brutally murdered by
Dracula countless years ago, leaving her and her two brothers orphaned.
Dracula, however, had a worse fate planned for them. A fate worse than death.
Dracula had given them the
hungry bites of a vampire.
For countless centuries she had
lived in agony, neither living nor dead. She had hidden from the world in
shadow and solitude, trying to control the raging urge for blood that she knew
lay in all her and her brother's hearts.
She had failed. Failed.
Now, the time for revenge was at
hand. What was left of their family had sworn a grim oath. They would rid the
world of Dracula. Or die trying. For death was a mere flicker compared to their
undeath.
For a long time she had
been under Dracula's watchful glare. Dracula had caught her, had her in his
clutches like a hare in the talons of a hawk. Dracula had enslaved her will and
broken her spirit. When Dracula breathed, she was breathless. Where Dracula
walked, she crawled pathetically behind, like a dog to a king.
Dracula was her world.
That made not a difference now.
She was free. Now bound by the light to free those once her kind of the evil of
Dracula.
Her name is Ankhesenamun, and
her penance is to rid the world eternally of vampiric taint.
***
Once again, the castle screamed
in reply, echoing the cries of the one in agony.
In this castle lived evil, an
evil so malignant and so malicious that no mortal had ever seen it unveiled in
its full power. No one had seen it in its true form. No mortal.
Once beyond the gates, there was
no light. There was no hope. There was no salvation.
Again, a scream. Again,
Ankhesenamun resumed her futile struggles against the chains that bound her
wrists and ankles, and was with each effort plunged into even deeper despair.
Again, the Count, whom she had come to know, to love and to respect, roared in
sadistic glee at the sufferings he was the cause of. Ankhesenamun could only
sob as she beheld the horrific sights before her in their shadows, pleading
silently that she would never be subject to such.
The cold fear in her heart
blazed into life once more as a new sound now echoed in her prison. Not the
sounds of torture. But the sound of silence. For the screams of pain had ceased.
Something cold seemed to grip
her heart as she saw the creature emerge from the shadows. Count Dracula. As
the light fell on him, she saw the Count of Transylvania revealed in his full
wicked glory. Madness blazed in the eyes of the Count, a madness mixed with
satisfaction and pleasure. His fists were clenched and his lips, redder than
ever, were stretched in a terrible smile. Ankhesenamun whimpered in fear when
she saw the blood, the very blood that coloured his lips crimson, and the very
same blood that ran in hers and her brother’s veins. The Count noticed her
fear.
Dracula gave a languid smile. He
struck.
In a movement impossible of any
living creature, Dracula swooped down on his prey. Ankhesenamun caught sight of
the crimson mouth open wide, wider than any human's could. The Count shrieked
like a filthy animal, the twin canine teeth tearing out of his gums and
extending, becoming longer, longer. His eyes no longer held any semblance of
human sanity, now filled with feral madness.
Dracula's blood-red tongue ran
slowly out of his mouth, running over her lips and teeth. Then his head shot
forth like a snake's, his jaws turning sideways and clamping shut on the neck
of his prey.
Ankhesenamun screamed as the
fangs burst into the soft skin of her neck. The wounds on her throat were
burning. She could feel the warm blood running out of the wounds, She could
feel her spirit being pulled from her body, out through the two holes in her
neck, and a part of Dracula's spirit pouring into her. For a moment, she and
Dracula were one. An exchange, giving Dracula new life and her new death. The
pain numbed. She felt only satisfaction...her blood would now feed her King and
nourish his undead body. . .
The human mind suddenly surged
back, regaining control of her body. She tore at the chains that shackled her
arms and legs with renewed fervour, however futile her efforts would be. She
had to escape. She had to free herself of this never-ending nightmare of
shadow. She clawed madly at the walls. There had to be an escape, somewhere,
somehow.
"Yes," she heard
Dracula roar. "Yes! Unleash your true self, be rid of your filthy mortal
shell and surrender to my power!"
Dracula had receded from her,
and now stood before her, his face smeared with blood, his malevolent gaze boring
into Ankhesenamun. A sick smile pervaded his foul countenance.
Ankhesenamun could feel the skin
of her gums stretching, and the nubs of enamel that were already protruding
from them. She cried out in agony, as the canine teeth burst free. They lengthened
at a rate no human growth could rival, until they protruded from her lips. She
could hear the voice of the Count, repeating one word over and over.
"Yes. . .yes. . .yes!"
Ankhesenamun's world blurred, to
be replaced by crimson tinted vision. She felt feral strength build up in her
teenaged muscles. The urge to test her new strength was overpowering.
Ankhesenamun strained at the chains, roaring in the voice of a maddened animal.
She knew in her heart what she had become. She had become a vampire. Possibly
the worst part of it all was that she did not really mind.
"Yes. . .yes. . .YES!"
***