Character profile: The world of Ankhesenamun

                                 

                             Name: Ankhesenamun
                             Born: Transylvania, 1447
                             Died: Transylvania, 1464

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.

 

She was 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 in her mind, in a place where fear and dread of the past existed unbridled. The place where she went in nightmares and hallucinations, and one where she could lose herself and her mind forever in an endless era of screams and torment – one she would never own the courage to see on her own.

 

Her parents were brutally murdered by Dracula countless years ago, leaving her and her two brothers orphaned. Dracula, however, had a far worse fate than death planned for them.

 

Dracula had given them the hungry bites of the vampire.

 

For countless centuries she had lived in agony, neither living nor dead. She had hidden from the world in lonely shadow and dark solitude, having long given up trying to control the raging urge for blood that she knew lay dominant in her heart.

 

She had failed. Failed.

 

The time for revenge was at hand. What was left of her family had sworn a grim oath. They would rid the world of Dracula and cleanse the taint he had left behind. Or die trying. For Death was a mere flicker compared to 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 with threats and torture. When Dracula breathed, she was breathless. Where Dracula walked, she crawled pathetically behind, like a dog to its master.

 

Dracula was her world.

 

It made no difference now. She was free. Now bound to free those once her kind from the evil of Dracula.

 

She was Ankhesenamun, and her penance was to rid the world eternally of vampiric taint.

 

***

“Sister, sister!”

 

The innocent voice rang in her mind, pulling her from the blanket of sleep. Ankhesenamun’s eyes cracked open. Sobek, her brother of fewer years, was the first thing she saw. She raised herself off the bed and turned to her brother. “What is it, young one?” She asked gently.

 

Sobek did not reply. His huge eyes held fear, an unspeakable fear that his little mind had failed to put in words.

 

Seth, her other brother, was there too. Seth was older than Sobek but still a child.

 

“What is it, Seth?”

 

Seth did not reply. His eyes were transfixed on the door. Ankhesenamun turned to look. There was no one there.

 

“He is coming.” Seth suddenly intoned. “He is coming for us.”

 

“Who is coming?” Ankhesenamun asked.

 

A black shade appeared at the doorway. A black shade with blazing crimson flame for eyes.

 

Time froze. Ankhesenamun grabbed Sobek and lifted him, almost throwing him into Seth’s waiting arms.

 

“Go!” she screamed. She shoved Seth away. At the same moment, the black shape struck. A blur of ebony raced toward her.

 

Ankhesenamun was thrown onto her back by the sheer force of the charge. The black shape landed on top of her. She saw, by the light of the burning eyes, the twin teeth that protruded from the gums and ended in razor sharp points.

 

Vampire.

 

She could feel the hot breath of the creature on her neck. A putrid stench wafted up, making her want to cease breathing.

 

The vampire spoke. It was a sound that she had never heard before, with a strange metallic quality and intonation.

 

“You are very beautiful, young one.”

 

The voice trailed off. Ankhesenamun could feel the breath again. Her conscious will seemed to have deserted her.

 

“Lovely - so beautiful; I hear the song of your blood – it calls out to me.”

 

Ankhesenamun wanted to scream, but all she could do was lie there and listen to this creature’s haunting voice.

 

“I will make you my own; yes, my own.”

 

Ankhesenamun’s mind suddenly surged back. She struggled. The vampire felt the movement.

 

“Struggle not, my love. . .”

 

The vampire’s icy cold fingers closed around her wrists. She cried out in pain as the iron grip paralysed her.

 

Now Ankhesenamun really did freeze. Her mind was still active, but she could not move. The vampire dipped out of her sight, to her neck.

 

Her neck!

 

She felt a burning tongue leave a trail of saliva on her throat. “Yes,” the vampire said. “Yes!”

 

The vampire came back into sight. He leaned over her, and kissed her full on the lips. Ankhesenamun felt her mind go numb.

 

“Yes. . .”

 

The vampire dipped out of sight again. Ankhesenamun felt a ghastly fear grip her. She was powerless. Her eyes shut, and her head fell back, her mouth open and breathing heavily.

 

The vampire struck.

 

Ankhesenamun screamed as the fangs punctured the soft skin of her neck. Her neck was burning. She could feel the warm blood running out of the wounds and her spirit being pulled from her body, out through the two holes in her neck, and a part of the vampire's spirit pouring into her. For a moment, she and the vampire were one. An exchange, one that would give him life and her 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. The whole world was spinning. She had to escape. She had to free herself of this never-ending nightmare. There had to be an escape, somewhere, somehow.

 

"Yes," she heard the vampire roar. "Yes! Unleash your true self, be rid of your filthy mortal shell and surrender to my power!"

 

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 monster before her, 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 to be free, roaring in the voice of a maddened animal. She knew in her heart what had happened. What she had become. Possibly the worst part of it all was that she did not really mind.

 

"Yes. . .yes. . .YES!"

 

***

 

Ankhesenamun woke with a start, as if from deep sleep. The gloom veiled her surroundings from her. “Strange,” she thought. The house was unnaturally dark.

 

She rose from her position on all fours. Again, something in her mind screamed a warning at her. Why was she on fours? Ankhesenamun tried desperately to remember, but with each effort her mind became more confused and her thought more hazy.

 

What had happened?

 

Ankhesenamun felt a strange wetness on her lower lip. She tasted it. Instantly she knew what it was.

 

Fear rose in her like that of a trapped bird in an invisible cage, but she fought it down.

 

Blood!

 

Her hands moved upwards, and she felt the razor-sharp fangs concealed there. Her hands trembled. What. . .what had she done?

 

Vaguely now Ankhesenamun could recall her encounter with the vampiric being. She had been bitten. She had been made his ilk! Tears came to her eyes, but she bravely blinked them back.

 

She was damned. Damned for all eternity. Never would she see the silver gates of heaven, nor the golden rays of the sun. She would now draw her strength from the moon and the darkness, for the sun would destroy her if it could. Even if she were to take her own life she would find it impossible, for the vampires could not be killed.

 

Then another thought rose in her, more frightening than the prospect of losing the eternal life promised to her by her Lord.

 

Her brothers! What had become of her brothers? Who had been bitten? The answer screamed at her, but she refused to believe it.

 

Her tears and fear of the dark forgotten, Ankhesenamun ventured forward in the darkness, seeking her siblings. They had to still be in the house. Seth had only been without the house but once, and Sobek never.

 

“Seth!” She called. “Sobek!” There was no answer. Only silence screamed at her in reply.

 

Her fear rising, Ankhesenamun continued her desperate search. Step by cautious step was taken in the complete gloom, each taken with the panic of a lost child.

 

Her bare right foot touched something soft. Ankhesenamun knew what it was - who it was.

 

She bent down, tears already starting to form. She lifted the limp body of her baby brother Sobek; burning tears of remorse and regret streaming down her cheeks.

 

“Why?” she murmured. “Why?”

 

She knew now what had happened. In her vampiric madness she had taken the blood and life of her newborn brother. From now on he would live, but as she did: neither living nor dead. She would not have blamed her brothers if they wanted to kill her themselves had they not been bitten. She only blamed herself, for in her mind she had let this happen.

 

Seth, no doubt too, had been bitten.

 

Ankhesenamun found Seth a distance away, the bleeding wounds on his throat torn even worse than Sobek’s. Ankhesenamun wept even more now, for she was alone.

 

Suddenly she became the booming laughter. It echoed in the darkness. It failed to frighten her though. A feral growl escaped her, low in her throat, and with the strength of a vampire and of a beast, she leapt at the source of the horrible sound.

 

The vampire was taken by surprise. Ankhesenamun hit him so hard that he flew through the wall and out of the house. Enraged, his five mutated digits twisted in some way of the dark, and Ankhesenamun fell too the ground, pain ripping into her. Her feral strength abandoned her, and she cried out in pain in the voice of a human being. At this the vampire ceased his dark magic and Ankhesenamun too ceased her struggles.

 

“Fool!” The vampire roared. “Fool! You dare challenge me! Know this, vermin! Know this and bow before my will! I am Vlad Dracula! I am your master!”

 

Ankhesenamun did not reply. Her breath was torn by tears of agony and sorrow.

 

Just then she heard a sound to her left. A sound that made her blood run cold. Seth, his new fangs bared and new wings unfolded, let out another roar of triumph.

 

Dracula roared with hideous laughter. “Child of the dark!” He shouted. “Go forth, and feed to your heart’s will in the world of Mankind!”

 

Seth did not glance at him, only turned and ran toward the neighbouring village. Ankhesenamun did not stop him. She could not.

 

***

 

Ankhesenamun twisted in her sleep, silent murmurs escaping her lips. Dreams of the past came swirling back to her, in the inky black whirlpool of slumber. Seth laughed as he listened to the old man of Buda Pesth, Sobek cried for attention once more. Her parent’s voices, her mother’s soothing whisper, and her father’s booming yet gentle tones.

 

A tear of pain and sorrow slipped from her sleeping eye.

 

So much terror, so much pain. Dracula was to blame. The son of the devil had raped her beautiful homeland and left it barren and desolate. Her parents had no doubt been slaughtered and consumed by his flame and his shadow.

 

As Ankhesenamun watched the scenes in her mind became no longer joyful. The sun had set and a brilliant white moon rose over Transylvania. Fear and dread, dread of an unknown evil, coursed through her once more.

 

A wolf appeared in front of the full moon. It was running, and as it ran it transformed. The eyes lit with a furious crimson hue, wings grew and expanded, and its running motions slowly transformed from four legged to two legged. The vampire took flight; arms spread wide, eyes seeking prey.

 

Ankhesenamun saw a tiny animal on the ground, a rabbit. It seemed oblivious to the impending danger.

 

“Flee, little one!” Ankhesenamun screamed silently in her mind.

 

The rabbit paid no heed. The vampire swooped.

 

Ankhesenamun saw another shape rise, sylph-like, behind the rabbit. This one was a pure pristine white, wings not made of leathery skin but of dove’s feathers. It swooped upon the dark, a manifestation of light in all its glory. The vampire glanced up, launched itself into the air and charged—

 

Again, Ankhesenamun was thrown into another world. Against a blood red sunset, she watched a human plunge a knife into a strange rectangular box, like a coffin. Something else caught her attention more than the box, though.

 

A lone figure stood in the background, silently and sadly watching the scenes of butchery before it. The figure suddenly slumped. Another figures grabbed its arms to support it, but the pain of the one fallen was obvious. It cried out in agony—

 

Ankhesenamun woke.

 

The world came back into focus. Transylvanian night cold assailed her. She breathed it in gladly, taking in several breaths of the sweet air.

 

Gradually she became aware of her surroundings. She was lying in a coffin of the purest marble. Her arms were across her chest, sweet-smelling flowers in one hand. And she was clad in a gown of the most glorious red silk she had ever imagined existed. Something struck her. This was not right.

 

She was lying there as if dead.

 

“Ah, my love, you are finally awake.”

 

A hand extended to her. Ankhesenamun took it, and was instantly lifted from her lying position in the coffin by enormous strength. She turned to the owner of the hand.

 

He was a tall, handsome man, his raven black hair combed neatly back. Dressed in a cloak of pure, infinite black, his crimson gaze bored into hers.

 

“Allow me to introduce myself,” the man before her said, with a languid smile. “I am noble Vlad Dracula, Count of Transylvania.”

 

Vaguely she could recall the being she had seen when she had been bitten. That had been a horrifying, sadistic monster, with an insatiable thirst for blood and violence. Could that being and this man be one and the same?

 

Ankhesenamun was aware that her fangs were clearly visible, but this man neither recoiled in horror nor seemed the least bit afraid. Was he nosferatu too?

 

“How long have I slept?” Ankhesenamun asked. She surprised herself by speaking. Her voice came out in a perfect, melodious tone, like the voice of an angel.

 

The Count’s smile never faltered. “Slept long you have, my paragon, my love. And in that time, you have grown ever more beautiful.”

 

The Count went behind her, and from the back his arms wrapped around her slender waist, and his face came suddenly over her shoulder.

 

“We will soon by wed, my angel. Ankhesenamun. We will soon be wed. Do not think little of me, for all I desire is your love.”

 

Ankhesenamun’s mind was racing. Another thought had come back to her, across the chasm of memory that had been split by her long slumber.  “Where are my brothers?”

 

“Your brothers?” The Count replied. “They are both here, and very safe they are under my care.”

 

A plan had begun to form in Ankhesenamun’s mind. One that was ruthless and cruel. One that had countless variables and possibilities. But the only way to free her and her brothers from bondage. “My gratitude is boundless.”

 

Dracula separated himself from her. He went down onto one knee, holding up a wild rose. At once, the flower died, all but one petal wilting and falling off.

 

“Will you marry me, my angel? Will we marry and become one? Will you be at my side through all trouble and difficulty? And will you be mine, to love and to serve, forever until the end of time and eternity?”

 

“Yes,” Ankhesenamun cried, the plan that had hatched recently fresh in her mind.

 

“Yes!”

 

She fell to her knees and bowed down before Dracula. “My lord, my life and my love, all and always for you.”

 

The last petal of Dracula’s wild rose fell, twirling and spiralling through the air before landing at her knees. It was the flower of their matrimony.

 

***

 

When Sobek looked to the skies he saw the moon, a dappled grey sphere of immense seductive beauty. For that he gave thanks.

 

To him it had been an age since that first bite. He had sped toward the neighbouring town and fed his vampiric urge on human blood. His mind had come back with his canines still buried in the body of a victim, and he had screamed in the indescribable horror of what he had done.

 

After his fear had subsided, instinct told him to find his new mistress—his sister Ankhesenamun. Sobek had raced to Castle Dracula in his vampire form and collapsed in raw exhaustion outside the gates, the power burned out of him by his exertions. When he awoke, he realised that he had fallen straight into Dracula’s trap. Dracula had used Ankhesenamun to lure him to the castle, for Dracula knew that a newly made vampire would seek his master or mistress when the feeding frenzy had ceased.

 

Seth, no doubt, had faced a similar fate.

 

Dracula had Sobek thrown into the dungeon beneath the castle, and vampire sentinels stood guard over the young vampire even during the morning. Dracula did not intend to lose his prisoner. What his purpose was as a hostage, Sobek did not yet know, but he was sure his suspicions bordered on the truth.

 

His sister’s beauty could not be resisted for long. Dracula intended to force Ankhesenamun into the robes of a vampire bride. If Ankhesenamun refused, Sobek knew his life would be used to trade. Ankhesenamun had a soft heart, and to see her younger brother suffering any one of Dracula’s ruthless tortures was more than she could bear. She would say yes. She would condemn herself to a lifetime, nay, an eternity of suffering before she let harm of any kind befall her brother.

 

Sobek surprised himself once again. After the bite, he had found intelligence drifting aimlessly in his mind, intelligence beyond his years. He could think clearly and rationally, and he could reason and argue.

 

A clank somewhere outside the cell jarred Sobek from his thoughts. He stood, just as a vampire sentinel threw the door of the cell open.

 

“Come,” the sentinel hissed, prodding Sobek with a sharp claw. “Someone awaits.”

 

“Who is this who awaits my coming, and what does he wait for?” Sobek asked.

 

“You will know in your own time,” the sentinel hissed back. He gave Sobek a rough push toward the dungeon exit. “Come.”

 

Sobek strode under many huge archways, he passed many cells, some of which were completely empty, some of which were occupied, though by what Sobek could not tell. All had glowing eyes, crimson like his. By the light of the full moon he could make out the shapes in the darkness, and they scared his worse than any vampire now could. They had strangely deformed appendages and mismatched limbs. Some crouched in the darkness, eyes searching for prey, while some cowered in the gloom, afraid of their inner demons. These were Dracula’s offspring and children, breeds between human and vampire. They were his experiments. They had committed but one crime to deserve this wretched fate. They had lived.

 

Sobek turned his eyes away from the sight, what he had just beheld replaying again and again in his mind.

 

The sentinel stopped. “Go,” he told Sobek. “Someone awaits.” Sobek turned.

 

“Sobek!”

 

Ankhesenamun ran toward him, arms outstretched. She threw her arms around her little brother. Sobek felt tears on his face. He felt like crying too, but held the tears back.

 

“Sobek. . .” Ankhesenamun cried into his shoulder. Her shoulders shook with sorrow. She must have been worried for him, Sobek thought.

 

“Sister, cry not for me,” Sobek said. His sister pulled away from him. Her face still showed sorrow. Sobek swore he saw guilt too, in those shining eyes.

 

“Are you well?” Ankhesenamun asked. Twin tearstains streaked down her face.

 

“Very well, sister.” Sobek said. “And you?”

 

Ankhesenamun threw her arms around him again, her sorrow renewed. “I am sorry, little one,” she managed. “I am sorry.”

 

***

 

Ankhesenamun was walking the castle alone, left alone to her dark thoughts. As she gazed at the ornate carvings on the richly decorated walls the image of only one person drifted into her mind’s eye.

 

Count Dracula.

 

Ankhesenamun hated him. She hated him with all her heart. He had promised not to hurt her brothers, even told her that they were well taken care of. She had learned otherwise. She knew that before her awakening from that deep slumber he had trapped her brothers when they had arrived at the castle seeking her. She knew that he had starved them of blood, making them howl painfully into the night for the coveted food. The sentinels keeping watch were well fed, and they had tortured Seth and Sobek with the sight of blood only just beyond their reach.

 

He had forced her to become his bride. It was unspoken, but she knew that if she refused he would take her brother’s lives before her eyes. He would know that a sight such would kill her.

 

Ankhesenamun clenched a fist tight. He would pay. Oh yes. Soon. Soon.

 

Without warning, a shrill laugh echoed, sending chills across her shoulders. Whirling around, her eyes searched the room. There was no one.

 

The laughter echoed again.

 

Ankhesenamun’s eyes shot upward, scanning the walls and ceilings. She caught sight of a beautiful stained glass window, depicting a scene in time of war and bloodshed. A shaft of moonlight streamed in. Instantly she knew what it was.

 

To human it would have been nothing more than a white, silvery shaft of light from the lambent moon. To a vampire, however, it would have been a passage, an entrance into the human world.

 

Ankhesenamun glared at the vampire she knew stood hidden in the white light. “Reveal yourself!” She demanded. “Who are you?”

 

The shrill laughter came again. A figure manifested in the light. It seemed a mere black shadow, slowly gaining shape, transforming from an ebony shade to a woman clad in a gown of black. Her face still remained obscured by a blanket of shadow.

 

“So you found me, little one. So you found me.”

 

Ankhesenamun showed no emotion. “Speak, vampire. What is your purpose stalking me?”

 

The horrid creature gave another laugh. “Stalking? No, my dear, never stalking. Never stalking.”

 

She leaned forward. “Only watching.”

 

Ankhesenamun remained impassive. “Why watching then?”

 

Ankhesenamun swore she could see a grin emerge from the cloud of shadow still covering the vampire’s countenance. “I would only like to see what my master the Count finds so alluring about you.”

 

The figure slid closer. “Perhaps it is this beautiful face,” she purred, a hand gently caressing Ankhesenamun’s cheek. Ankhesenamun would have reacted, should she have not found that she could not move. She had been placed under a subtle vampire charm when her guard was down.

 

“Or perhaps this long, black, silky hair,” the vampire continued. She stroked Ankhesenamun’s hair ever so gently. Ankhesenamun fought the spellcraft binding her movement with all her mind, succeeding only in freeing her jaws.

 

“So you are a bride.” Ankhesenamun managed through clenched teeth. The vampire paused, then nodded absently. “Yes. I was a bride. Once upon a time, once upon a time.”

 

The bride stepped back. “Now I know what the Count sees in you.” She hissed, her tone altered. Ankhesenamun began to feel afraid.

 

“The Count sees your youth, your fresh blood,” the vampire continued. All the time she spoke in a hiss of a voice, grating Ankhesenamun’s ears. “Once I was young, much like you.” The bride said bitterly. “My master the Count loved me the best of all his other brides. He said he would love me forever more, and he would have none other. He said that he would protect me from evil, and harm would never befall me again. He said,” The bride’s voice trailed off. Tears fell from the unseen eyes veiled by the black cloud.

 

Ankhesenamun suddenly found she could move again. She also found that she no longer felt a sense of repulsion toward the vampire. Now empathy was starting to work its way into her judgement. She reached out to the bride with one hand.

 

There was a flash of lightning outside. Ankhesenamun felt fear spear her heart. The bride seemed to feel it too. “No,” she whimpered.

 

“It is he.”

 

Ankhesenamun turned. Count Dracula stood there. His eyes were like grey stone.

 

“Master,” the bride whimpered. She took a step toward him.

 

Dracula turned to Ankhesenamun. “Why do you speak with this monster? Do you not see her intentions?”

 

“Master,” the bride whimpered again. She took another step.

 

Dracula grasped Ankhesenamun by the upper arms. “My love, why do you listen to her? Will you allow her to sow discord in our marriage?”

 

“I. . .”

 

“Master,” the bride whimpered again.

 

“Silence!” Dracula thundered. Outside, lightning flashed. The bride cried out.

 

Dracula whirled back to Ankhesenamun, his face a mask of rage. “She is a monster! Have you seen her true form? How could you not know?”

 

Dracula turned to his sobbing bride. “Behold, Ankhesenamun my love, the creature to whom you listened and to whom you spoke with!”

 

There was a third flash of lightning, this one so bright and intense that Ankhesenamun was momentarily blinded. She heard a scream, a ghastly scream that echoed in the intense light and drove the horror of the entire situation home.

 

The comforting darkness slowly returned. Ankhesenamun could now see and hear Dracula once more. The bride was nowhere to be seen.

 

Dracula caught her staring at him. “Behold!” He thundered triumphantly. “Behold! See the creature within!” From behind his back, he dragged the bride out by the hair.

 

By now, there was little that Ankhesenamun thought could frighten her. Since that bite, the fear of the darkness or the childish fears of demons that once gripped her imagination had released their hold. Now, she saw the creature that the bride really had been. The dark mist that obscured the face had been scattered by Dracula.

 

Ankhesenamun screamed.

 

The bride also screamed, tears running out of the blazing eyes. Dracula held her by the hair, and her hands were flailing wildly. “Do not look at me, do not look at me!” She screamed pitifully and uselessly.

 

Dracula was triumphant. “Look no more!” He boomed. He shoved the head of the bride toward the ground, and with one smooth movement and one smooth spellcast, he decapitated his past bride with one hand.

 

His fingers blazed with golden light, the shining colour slowly fading into the dull crimson of blood. The bride’s head had been completely separated from her body, severed off roughly - the jagged edges of the neck still visible. The body began to crumble, finally becoming nothing.

 

Ankhesenamun was paralysed with fear. Tears streamed down her face.

 

“Come.” Dracula said. He stepped smoothly up to her and took her in his arms in a warm embrace. “Fear not. She is gone forever.”

 

As Dracula led Ankhesenamun away, Ankhesenamun could only pray that her plan would go smoothly on the wedding day.

 

***

 

“Sister.”

 

Ankhesenamun turned. Her brothers stepped in, flanked by the stony-faced vampire sentinels. No doubt they were sent by Dracula. He might suspect something, but then again, he might not. She could never be sure.

 

“You may leave us,” she said, nodding at the sentinels.

 

“Mistress-” a sentinel started.

 

Ankhesenamun’s eyes blazed, lit with flames from within. “Do I have to speak again?” she asked quietly, in barely a whisper.

 

The sentinel said nothing. He and the others turned and left as quietly as they had come.

 

Ankhesenamun turned to her brothers. She took the hand of each one and stared into their eyes.

 

“Seth,” she said. “Sobek.” She paused. ““We will not be here for long.”

 

“Tonight I will be wed to Count Dracula. When the moment comes, I will give you the signal, and you will flee. Do not look back. I will deal with him.”

 

Sobek immediately reacted. “Sister, then you will bear the full burden of Dracula’s wrath!”

 

Ankhesenamun remained impassive. “If it has to be done, it will be done.”

 

“No.” Sobek said. His eyes showed anger and indignation.

 

“How could you do this? After all we had endured, as a family, you mean to sacrifice yourself for our safety? Did you not promise to our be with us and look after us forever, till your dying day?”

 

“That is what I have done always, and that is what I will do.” Ankhesenamun said through gritted teeth.

 

“And it is also what I will not.” Sobek declared.

 

“Sobek, if you do not obey I will have to make you obey.” Ankhesenamun said. Her fists were tightly clenched and the blazing anger leapt out of her eyes.

 

Sobek did not flinch, unlike the vampire guards. Suddenly, his eyes softened, and soon his anger was gone.

 

“The spirit of the vampire is tearing us apart. It is wrecking all the love and the lives we have had. Can’t you feel it, sister?”

 

Ankhesenamun looked away. She shut her eyes, and the flames went out. Tears flowed out of her closed lids and rolled down her cheeks.

 

Sobek moved and place an arm around his sister’s shoulders. “I am sorry.”

 

Ankhesenamun did not open her eyes. “As am I.” She said in a choked voice.

 

Seth, too, came and placed an arm around Ankhesenamun. Gradually, she opened her eyes. The anger was gone; all that was left was sorrow and remorse.

 

“Do not fear. Recall, what did Mother say when we feared things of the unnatural?”

 

Seth spoke up. Until now, he had said barely a word. His lips were horribly cracked and the deprivation of blood had taken its toll on him.

 

“I recall.”

 

“Did you know what it meant, Seth? Sobek? It meant that God was with us. And he will ever be present, until your dying day.”

 

***

 

Ankhesenamun had always imagined that her wedding would be a small affair, held in the village chapel. She imagined that her parents and most of the townsfolk would be present, and that she would be dressed in the white wedding gown her mother had worn. She would be a lot older, and that she would love the person she would marry.

 

Now, her dreams had mostly been shattered. For better or for worse though, she could not say.

 

The chapel where Dracula had decided to have the wedding was beautiful. It was nothing like the place that she though she thought to make the vows of her life in. Her parents were not present, murdered by Dracula, and the townsfolk were mostly gone too, although some of them were now present in the castle as Dracula’s newest slaves.

 

Dracula had given her a magnificent gown to wear for this occasion. It was pure black, and woven with such fine stitching that Ankhesenamun doubted if it had really been woven without spellcraft. She had aged maybe a year at the most.

 

Still, the most important of her wishes was shattered, for Ankhesenamun knew she would never love Count Dracula. For only hatred could live in anyone’s heart for such a creature.

 

Ankhesenamun stepped finally out of her chamber. Many gleaming crimson eyes were upon her. All Dracula’s sentinels, all his servants, all his guards were present. His son too. Her brothers stood in a corner, watching.

 

Again, Ankhesenamun had imagined that the townsfolk would be happy and would congratulate her on her fine fortune. It would be noisy, in a cheerful fashion. Now the vampires uttered hardly a sound. Only her footsteps could be heard. No happiness could ever exist in such a dismal place.

 

A waiting Count Dracula smiled.

 

“Ankhesenamun,” he began, smile never faltering. Ankhesenamun held a finger to his lips. She gave him her sweetest smile. At the same time, the vampire charm that the past bride had used on her began to work its magic. She only had to keep it on him for a short time, and. . .

 

For a moment Ankhesenamun saw Dracula’s face harden. His slitted eyes turned towards her. There was a strange expression in them, one she could not fathom at a mere glance.

 

Then the moment was over. Dracula’s smile appeared once more, as she had ever remembered it. Had the charm worked? What had happened?

 

Ankhesenamun decided to try again. She continued to smile as she wove the intricate magic once more and cast them. However, this time she did not try to conceal the casting as well as she had the previous. This time she forced the magic upon him, hoping to freeze him instantly.

 

And it was this time, too, that Dracula turned to her, eyes narrowed, teeth gritted. Dracula had known all along.

 

“My dear,” he hissed. “I gave you life, I loved you above all things. Is this how you will return my affections? Do you hope to escape with your brothers, with me frozen in the same charm I taught to you, and all my other brides?”

 

Dracula laughed. It was a cold, mirthless laugh.

 

“If that was so, my dear, then you have failed.”

 

Time froze. The chapel fell silent - perhaps even more silent then before.

 

Ankhesenamun whirled around, back to where her brothers stood, transfixed. “Go!” she screamed. All the memories of the past, the moment when she had been taken by the Vampire, and the shame of realization that she herself had bitten her brothers, all those memories came back. She would never let them happen again.

 

“Go!”

 

Seth instantly reacted, breaking free of the sentinel’s death grip. The sentinel howled as his arm fell to the floor in a gust of burning flame. Seth grabbed Sobek and ran.

 

Ankhesenamun lifted Sobek once more, in their parent’s house in Transylvania. Once more, replaying in her mind, came the moment when she pushed Sobek into Seth’s arms, intent on seeing her brothers safely out of the nightmare of the vampire.

 

Again, she saw herself being overwhelmed by the sheer force of evil.

 

Dracula roared, as his true shape manifested for the first time. He was a howling, terrifying monster, made of shadow and flame. Living hellfire burned in his eyes, and claws erupted from his limbs. He fell onto all fours, the fangs lengthening more and magnificent wings blossoming from his back. Dracula had become the vampire of Ankhesenamun’s dreams, in a stunning display of the might of the spirit of the vampire.

 

Ankhesenamun let out a roar of her own, as she let the spirit of the vampire too, exhibit its power on her. She became the beast she had become outside the house, after she had found out that Sobek had also been taken.

 

With a roar she leapt at Dracula, shoving him to the ground. He let out a roar to rival her own, but still struggled against the confines of time binding him to reach his fleeing prisoners.

 

Seth and Sobek were already at the door of the chapel. Once outside, Ankhesenamun knew, they were safe. She would have succeeded. Seth grabbed the door by its hinges, ripping it off and tossing it aside with ease. But Sobek looked back, back at the two vampiric shapes bearing down on him and his brother.

 

Seth grabbed his arm. Sobek turned away, and both fled away into the darkness.

 

This time, the roar Dracula let out caused the chapel to quiver. His servants cowered, and the hardened sentinels stepped back.

 

Dracula rapidly shrunk, assuming his human-like shape once more. He walked over to his sentinels. His steps echoed loudly in the frozen silence. Ankhesenamun stood rooted to the ground.

 

Dracula grabbed both the sentinels who had let Seth and Sobek escape by the throats. He did not regard the missing arm of one of them. The two sentinels looked up at him, eyes now full of fear.

 

Dracula forced them to the ground. “You were entrusted with duties.” he boomed. “You have failed them.” Dracula clenched a fist. From inside the palm of his hand began burning a flame. The sentinels recoiled, but could do nothing.

 

“You shall die for your failure.” He clenched the fist, and the flame went out.

 

The sentinels screamed. There was a flash of brilliant light, and the sentinels melted away, screaming all the way to their gruesome deaths. The other vampires, the servants and the guards, all ran away. They all fled the chapel. Only two others remained behind, besides Dracula himself.

 

Dracula smiled. It was a harsh cruel smile. Using a foot, he nudged away the remnants of the sentinels. Hardly anything was left.

 

“Ankhesenamun. You have seen how easily I can do away with one such as you.”

 

Dracula strode over and glared at her, his hands behind his back. She was still frozen.

 

“Yet I do not. Why?”

 

Ankhesenamun remained frozen. She had long become human once more, and now stood Dracula’s captive, under a much more powerful charm then the one she had used.

 

“It is because of my intense love for you. Yet you betrayed me. You helped your brothers escape, and were planning to escape yourself.”

 

Dracula looked up at her.

 

“You shall be punished.”

 

***

 

Ankhesenamun screamed, as the dark magic Dracula now used burned away her willpower from the inside.

 

“Yes. Scream, my love. The more one’s love for another, the more one will hate the other in betrayal.” Dracula laughed.

 

“Feel my love. Feel my hatred.”

 

Ankhesenamun screamed. There was to be no tomorrow. Her world was spinning, in one insane, twisted whirlwind. She was flying back and forth between nightmare and consciousness, her world one that knew only pain.

 

Tears fell from her eyes, burned out of her by the pain. Her world dissolved, blazing colours igniting and extinguishing before her eyes. She could see only the darkness of death and the crimson of blood. She would not see Dracula bending over, once more to her neck.

 

The comfort of death seemed far away, as Dracula punctured her neck once more with his sharp fangs. Ankhesenamun could only wish for death. She could see no more light, no more darkness. She tore at the skin of her neck, seeking to ease the pain, but not knowing how.

 

She heard Dracula laugh. “Pleading for death?” he roared. “No, I will not kill you. You will suffer.”

 

He could hear her thoughts?

 

One thought came to her mind. It was an insane one, one more insane than the thought of liberating her brothers that way. She could take her own life.

 

There was nothing to lose. She would escape from this nightmare of pain.

 

She clawed at her own neck, ripping away layers of flesh. The pain was almost comforting compared to the magic Dracula wielded. Dracula cried out.

 

“My love? What are you doing! No!”

 

Grim satisfaction crossed her mind. With her remaining strength she ripped the life from her own throat. Her world slowly faded into blackness. She could hear Dracula screaming “no” over and over again.

 

Ankhesenamun smiled her last, and slept.

 

***

 

Ankhesenamun would have though never to wake, but she did awaken. Her throat was completely healed, and she was lying in a stone coffin. Her face hardened.

 

“Show yourself,” she demanded.

 

A chuckle came from her side. A familiar face came into view.

 

“Greetings, stepmother.”

 

Ankhesenamun bristled. “Do not call me that.”

 

Obelisk, the bodyguard of Dracula and his son, gazed down at her.

 

“Why not, stepmother? I am as a brother to my master, Gan, son of Master Dracula, and you are Master Dracula’s bride.”

 

Ankhesenamun gritted her teeth. “I am no one’s bride.”

 

Obelisk laughed. It made Ankhesenamun want to get up and attack him, but she did not.

 

“I had to revive you. Oh yes. Master never planned for you to kill yourself. I was there.” Obelisk nodded. “Oh yes. I watched you scream and cry. I enjoyed it.”

 

Ankhesenamun’s face was hard as stone. “I swear,” she said slowly, every deadly word crystal clear. “I will kill you, and I will paint your world with your own blood.”

 

“And that is why I love you so.”

 

Count Dracula stepped into view. Instantly Ankhesenamun made a move to get up, but Dracula struck her hard on the face with one hand, and she fell back into the coffin.

 

“Your mind is so strong. Even in torture you try to kill yourself.” Dracula smiled. “I would never end my own life.”

 

“Do not be so sure,” Ankhesenamun spat. “For I will make you plead for death.”

 

Dracula laughed. “Alas, you will not be able to do that, for now my bond with you is even closer. None other has ever been bitten twice. It is painful, but it will strengthen our bond, so much so that you will live if I live, and you will die if I die.”

 

Dracula turned away. “Now I must bid you farewell, for I have other matters to attend to. I will drown you in the high tide, and go away. Forever I will try to ease the heartbreak of our separation, though I know it will not be simple. I never did lie. I did love you the most of all my brides.”

 

“Obelisk,” he said. “Seal the coffin, and let her sleep forever.”

 

Ankhesenamun made a move to get up, but Obelisk hit her down, and with a grin that infuriated her, he slammed the lid down.

 

“Oh yes, I forgot your brothers. I sent my past brides after them. I had no more use for them now that I had you, and so sent them to dispatch my little prisoners. They do not know this.” Dracula laughed a roar of a laugh.

 

“Goodbye, Ankhesenamun. My lady, my life and my love. Goodbye.”

 

***

 

Escape, escape. The words echoed. Ankhesenamun twisted in her sleep, ever plagued by nightmares and horrifying hallucinations from her past. She murmured in her sleep. Her hands brushed the walls of her prison.

 

She was back in her parent’s house. The memories flooded back, vivid and painful. She could see Sobek’s body splayed out on the ground, blood leaking from the bite on his throat. Behind him, Seth’s wings unfolded and he roared in her mind’s eye, the new vampire. The hateful face of the raven-black clad gentleman mocked her with its familiarity, seeming alien, yet not. She once again recalled the day he had lifted her from the coffin and asked for her hand in marriage.

 

She had failed. Her brothers now shared her fate. They were all nosferatu, cursed with immortality and forever damned with no soul.

 

The rage fuelled her powers. Her hands slammed forcefully against the coffin walls, a feral growl escaping her lips. She had to do something, but what?

 

It was no use. Dracula had staked the coffin with wild rose and its enchantments kept the lid sealed tight. There was no way she could escape. Ankhesenamun still floated partly between the real world and the dream world, and was unable to keep her focus for long.

 

Escape, escape. How long more?

 

Sweat ran in streams down her face. Her hands shoved desperately against the walls, all to no avail. Ankhesenamun gave a whimper of despair. There seemed no more hope.

 

Dracula manifested in his vampire form once more, looming ominous before her. She felt so small; insignificant. He towered above her and the rest of her village, the expression on his face terrible.  Storm clouds gathered above their master, the ebony shades bringing forth blinding flashes of lightning. 

 

As she watched, Dracula laughed, a horrible sound. He raised a massive forepaw, and he swung it into the chapel. Total mayhem broke out.

 

Century old stained glass rained down. People screamed. Some ran while others stood unmoving. Infants bawled. Ankhesenamun ran too, sobbing in horror and guilt at what she blamed herself for.

 

The crucifix at the peak of the chapel began to sway. Ankhesenamun was there when it crashed down. With it fell the hopes and faith of the people. The crucifix stabbed into the ground. Dracula roared in triumph. And Ankhesenamun screamed.

 

In the coffin, her magic woke. There was a blinding flash of light, and she was through. She hovered in the cool, azure waters, left to survey the undersea world. She was very deep down. The coffin continued to sink, finally plummeting out of sight into the murky deeps.

 

For a moment Ankhesenamun lay floating there, watching the space where the coffin had previously been. Only when she knew the coffin was truly gone did she raise her head and regard where she was.

 

The water surged in with a horrible roar to fill the space Ankhesenamun had opened in the sea. Unfortunately for her, it was neither sunrise nor sunset.

 

She screamed in pain as the water seared her flesh more than anything Dracula could throw at her would. The forces of nature were a hundredfold more powerful than Dracula was.

 

Her air disappeared in multicoloured bubbles, and her eyes lost their sight completely. Even blinded, Ankhesenamun flailed in the water, trying to bring herself back to the surface. She had to reach land. There was no point in coming this far ad drowning in the sea.

 

For many moments Ankhesenamun struggled against the chains the water had lashed to her body. The searing pain of the burning water, disorientation and the total confusion blindness gave accompanied each movement.

 

Ankhesenamun forced her eyes open, her teeth gritted, her fists clenched. She could see nothing in the swirling bubbles but the light that streamed into the sea from above. She was that close to the surface world. Unfortunately, her heart had long begun to slow. The pain numbed. The hope in her heart and the light streaming in began to grow dim. Her movement became more sluggish and dense, the strength vanishing completely.

 

She thought she could taste blood in the water. It was her own blood; her lips were torn from the intense pressure on her jaws. The blood aroused her, and with a last, desperate move, she kicked at the water. Instantly she knew she was spent. This would either save her or kill her.

 

Her head rose a little above the waves. The first breath came back out, full of water. The second one was heaven. Consciousness rushed back, her heartbeat faster and her eyes opened.  Unfortunately for her, the pain of reality awoke too.

 

Ankhesenamun cried out in renewed agony. Her head was forced underwater, and she came up again, coughing and crying in pain. She could feel her flesh ignite with horrible heat, splitting and suffocating her skin. Her vision began to fade once more, but she willed the blackness back, determined to live.

 

The black fabric of the wedding gown ripped, and she felt her wings pull through. Her mind had not willed the change, but had simply succumbed to endless pain. Ankhesenamun turned her eyes away and focussed on the looming shoreline.

 

With strength of will unmatched, she began to kick her way through the water.

 

It seemed endless, fruitless. With every kick pain slowed her, and with every second her strength ebbed. The wedding gown hampered her movements and dragged her down, its folds weighted with water.

 

The sight of the shore spurred her on. She flailed her way through the water, dragging herself closer with each movement. Her wings beat uselessly, dragging her down. The vampire was not built for water.

 

She coughed up another lungful of water as her movements pulled her deeper and deeper. Her hands grabbed blindly, the white horses of the sea obscuring her vision.

 

Her heart stopped. Foam?

 

With the last of her previously renewed strength, Ankhesenamun grabbed at whatever was in front of her, at the same time kicking hard to propel herself forward.

 

The sharp black rocks in front slashed her smooth hands, leaving long gashes down them, but now that she had a grip, Ankhesenamun hauled herself onto her feet. She dragged herself up the beach in slow movements hampered by the waterlogged dress, barely any strength left in her battered body. When she thought she was completely out of the water, she let her knees buckle, falling onto all fours.

 

A terrible numbness spread up one leg. Ankhesenamun pulled her leg out of the surf, which roared fiercely at her. Nature did hate the undead, after all.

 

Ankhesenamun coughed a horrible, hollow, dry cough. Water spurted out, and the blood from her lips trickled down. Her throat was burning from the salt water. She needed water; she would have to worry about that later.

 

Her eyes were beginning to dim. Even though Ankhesenamun knew that every single vampire Dracula’s castle had might have seen her crawling pitifully up the coast, and were waiting just a short distance away to capture her and kill her, and that every single vampire-hating villager in Dracula’s island homeland had seen her dreaded nosferatu wings and, too, were waiting just a short distance away to capture her and kill her, at this point she did not care anymore. Ankhesenamun felt her arms weaken, and she fell down onto the sand in a deep sleep.

 

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