One never knows what day or hour love will strike the young heart. All that any person whether elvin, human, fairy or, yes, even vampire knows is that it strikes without warning and can lead to inconveniences. You see, dear readers, this tale is about love and an uncommon one at that. It’s a tale of what occurs when one were to put a young vampire and his true love together. Difficulties of course arise, but it’s how the lovers see it through that make this love even more so extraordinary. So thus the story begins, the story that took place exactly one year before a young, half bred, girl came into their lives.

--

Long, gold, locks fell gracefully down a young maiden’s bare back. Shaking her head a bit, the last few water droplets fled from her perfect hair. Just as soft as the feathers of a chick, the maiden ran a comb down with ease. Upon finishing with her grooming, the maiden covered her alabaster skin with that of a silk nightgown. The body was fragrant with the scent of a spring time morning and as vibrant as the new day suns. She was of a slender, smooth built and the one woman that no man can pass by without a second glance at her. Her eyes were large and brown like that of a doe. So young, so innocent she was having never known the touch of a lustful man.

Smiling to her reflection with her perfect lips, she turned away in order to complete her other nightly tasks. As soon as she did, a small breeze blew out the lit candles on her vanity. Turning in surprise, she searched for the source of the wind and found her window to be open. ‘Odd,’ she thought. ‘I do not remember having left this open.’ Thinking nothing more of it, she closed the shutters and then went back to light the wicks once more. Extinguishing the match, she had no sooner turned her back once more when the candles extinguished themselves once again. The maiden turned immediately to the window only to find that it was as she had left it. Nervously, her eyes fell upon the candles again.

Soon, the chamber darkened as the rest of the candles received the same fate as the first and she was in darkness. Gasping in fright, she searched about for the source of this disturbance, but could see nothing. Her heart began to beat strongly like that of a drum, faster and faster. There was someone or something in the room, something that roamed in the night. The only lights left in the room were the moons beaming though the cracks in the boarded shutters.

“Christine, Christine…” a deep, seductive voice crooned from the shadows.

Christine whirled around, but found to her great horror that no one was there. The feeling remained in her mind that she was not alone in the room. She could feel a dark presence approaching her, but she could see none but her own reflection in the mirror. It was then when she felt cold, slender fingers caress her throat. A voice continued its haunting whisper, “Do not fear me little one. I only wish for a bit of your blood.”

The fingers traveled beneath the line of her jaw and tightened their grip. Her body trembled violently, but she could not move away; could not run to save herself from this reflection less creature. She tried to scream, but her voice choked up in her throat. A squeak escaped, but it could not save her. Soon the fingers crept up to the side of her face and moved it to the side enough that she could see the face of the intruder. It was then when her voice loosened and a scream became released. The body went limp, eyes rolled back and she fainted in the creature’s arms.

In the light of the moons, a deathly pale figure of a man, donned in a black, velvety cloak and with hair as black as the night, it self could be seen. Grinning in the darkness, long, pearl colored fangs revealed themselves. His eyes glowed red gazing hungrily upon Christine’s neck, which he caressed affectionately. The vampire carried the unconscious Christine to her bed and laid her down upon it. With much seduction in his touch, he savored the smell and feel of the maiden’s skin before, finally, licking the side of her neck in anticipation. The fangs had just barely touched when a new voice interrupted the silence, “You really should stop playing with your meals Dartanion.”

Hissing in annoyance of the intrusion, Dartanion looked up to the source of the voice angrily. Dropping down from the rafters silently was another vampire dressed in black velvet like the first but had a head of dark, brown hair that almost blended in with the darkness. Dartanion sighed, giving the second vampire a sarcastic grin. “Phyconos,” he remarked. “Why am I not surprised? Surely you couldn’t have had your eye on this lass as well.”

“As a matter of fact I have for quite sometime now. You are well out of you league my brother.” Phyconos grinned in return as his golden eyes shone in the moon light.

Dartanion growled, “Do not refer me as such. I am not in any relation to you and you know that as well as I. Don’t insult me.”

Phyconos was soon standing upon the bed beside the sleeping maiden and responded simply, “Ah, but my dear brother you are for we are of the same in purpose, in desires, in our so called curse and so you see, we are all one big family. Brothers and sisters of the night, constantly increasing our numbers.”

“Only you can think of your heritage in such a twisted yet pleasant matter. Now my dear ‘brother’ you have wasted quite enough of my time so if you don’t mind, I would like to partake of my wine now.”

With a roll of the eyes Phyconos remarked, “Why must you refer blood to wine? It bothers me so.”

“Then it’s a good thing that I care not for your opinion now then is it.” Upon finishing the statement, Dartanion seized the woman from the bed and leapt from the window.

Dartanion fled from the house and into the woods that grew nearby. As a vampire, he was stronger and faster than any normal human being. Christine’s limp body did not slow him as he ran in search of a place to enjoy his meal in peace. Just as he believed that he was safe and had left Phyconos far behind him, the very vampire that he tried to loose, appeared before him; hovering a couple of feet in the air. “The maiden is mine brother.”

Quickly placing Christine on the ground, he hissed at his opponent, as did Phyconos in response. Lifting himself off the ground, Dartanion flew at Phyconos, knocking him to the ground. Hissing like snakes, the two vampires fought over who would get the maiden. Phyconos, with his long, pointed nails, clawed at his rival’s chest tearing through velvet and cloth. Enraged, he clawed at Phyconos with his own nails, which were not as deadly having only succeeded in rendering his opponent cloak less. As Dartanion continued to slash, his hand, to his surprise, found its way into Phyconos’s mouth which he had promptly bit as hard as he could. The fangs dug deeply into Dartanion’s hand, crushing the bone within. Shrieking in agony, he slammed the rival vampire into a nearby tree, crushing the spinal cord against the trunk.

His hand now released, Dartanion backed away cradling his wounded hand as his blood leaked from the punctures. While he tried to catch his breath, what would have killed or paralyzed a normal human being did not keep Phyconos on the ground for very long. Slowly, Phyconos got to his feet and straightened his back with the spine cracking and popping back into its proper place. After moving his neck side to side, adding the final cracks of the bones, he gave a menacing smile. Dartanion’s blood stained his fangs, which he licked off with his tongue and spat onto the grass. “The feud is far from complete, my brother,” Phyconos crooned.

Holding up his wounded hand, which was beginning to heal it self as well, he flexed it warningly. “It will be you who will crawl back to his coffin with an empty stomach in the end. We both cannot be out and about by the time dawn arrives.”

“All the more reason in speeding up my victory and you’re humiliation,” was the simple reply.

Sneering at the remark, Dartanion was soon running at full speed towards his foe, with his hands outstretched so to slash at him with more efficacy. However, just as he reached the spot where Phyconos once stood, he found there to be nothing but the tree he had broken his spine on from before. Immediately, he looked up to the skies above him, finding Phyconos floating above him with large bat wings protruding from his back. Launching himself up from the ground, the same sort of wings sprouted out from his own back, lifting him up to the level of his enemy.

The two vampires fought in the air fiercely slashing, tackling, breaking, hissing and getting themselves entangled in each other’s wings, arms and legs. Before long, Phyconos managed to get enough of a grip on his opponent in order to force him down to the ground below. Dartanion slammed into the soil and grass, creating an imprint of his backside in the dirt. Before he could even attempt to rise, Phyconos landed upon his chest, forcing the vampire deeper into the soil. Without getting more than a second to defend himself, Phyconos bent down, held him by the shoulders and bit into his neck. Now screeching in anguish, Dartanion could feel the smallest bit of his blood draining from his body before the torture finally ceased.

Straightening up, his legs straddling his fallen contender, Phyconos gazed down upon the vampire below him. The chest was rising and falling quickly in efforts to regain his breath, his neck bled from the new puncture wounds from Phyconos’s long fangs. As he laid before the victor, helpless and vulnerable, he felt his own blood spat upon his face. The golden eyes were soon staring deep into his red mockingly. “You lose.”

As soon as Phyconos had moved out of the way, Dartanion got to his feet holding his wounded neck as it healed it self. With wounded pride, Dartanion gave up on continuing to fight and fled with one last fierce hiss at Phyconos. The response to the fleeing vampire’s last reaction resulted in a simple grin. Phyconos had won once again as always. “It appears that I shall not go to my coffin hungry tonight brother.”

Turning to the spot where Dartanion left the maiden, he found to his satisfactory that the lass remained unconscious in that location. “Now it is your turn my dear,” he purred in anticipation.

He strolled to the sleeping maiden, rubbing his hands and running his tongue over his teeth hungrily. Quietly, he kneeled next to Christine and gently moved her blonde locks away from her slender neck. Savoring the moment while bringing his face close to her neck, the scent of her spring time lotion filled his lungs. The aroma added to the pleasantness of the meal he was about to partake. Caressing his lips against her skin at first, he found the vein that he wanted before finally opening his mouth wide for the strike. His fangs sank through her flesh easily and punctured the artery that he desired. Her heart pumped the blood straight to him leaving little effort for him to suck it from the wound.

Phyconos remained in his crouched over position for an hour or so until he had his fill of her life fluid. In the end, he removed his teeth from her neck and lapped up the last remaining drops of precious blood that managed to escape from the newly opened wound. He finished by running his tongue over his lips and teeth, cleaning up the remaining stains. Getting to his feet, he stretched his cramped muscles and sighed in contentment, feeling quite full. “That was a lovely supper,” he thought out loud to himself.

Soon after, he could hear the panicked voices of the lass’s family searching for their missing child or sibling. ‘Late as always,’ he thought with a shake of his head. ‘When will they ever learn?’

With one last glance at the maiden, he blew her a kiss and bade her farewell before vanishing into the darkness of the night; leaving behind the screams of terror that would follow upon discovery of the lass soon after.