This started out as a Draco Malfoy story, dunno how this came out. I decided not to put the start in paragraphs because there would be so many. The world has been at war with Vampires for years and they have now lost. WOOOOOHOOOOO!! /cough cough/ booooo…Heh heh...anyway, one soldier is alive and kicking, kinda. Listened to MCR - “Mama” as I was writing this.

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Hit. Punch. Kick. Hit. Duck.

The same pattern every time.

Hit. Punch. Kick. Hit. Duck. SLAM.

“AHHHHH”

A chuckle.

“Look first, nothing stays the same.”

Footsteps. A click.

One thing stays the same. The same silky voice whispering in his ear. Him.

Vincent groaned and rolled over, staring at the ceiling. God, how he hated his life. His own very existence. Captured as a trophy of war. He closed his eyes only for them to shoot open seconds later. He groaned. He could still hear the screams. See their faces, their terror; their agony. Why had he not died with the rest of his race? His comrades. His friends. Why him? He hadn’t had a drop of sleep in days and before that it was only filled with nightmares. Blood filled nightmares. Blood. The cause of all this pain and war. Oh well he supposed it was all over now. They were all gone. His kind. Now the things of nightmares ruled the planet. Destroying all technology and turning it into something more medieval than anything. Them. Vampires. They had slaughtered his race. Babies died being held up before mothers. Mothers died being raped in front of their husbands. Husbands died fighting in wars for lost wives. Children were sucked dry in the night. Terror. Blind terror and chaos ruled for those last years. And him. A single soldier kept alive for His sick amusement. He wondered how they could survive know; without human blood. They must have a store of it. Or maybe they have a sub-human race to feed on. Or the children that were taken during the day and never found. He shook his head and turned his thoughts to slightly less depressing things. He was, at the moment, tied up in a cell in some medieval castle in God knows where, for some sick Vampires pleasure, dressed up in a medieval shirt and pants that looked like something out of Lord of the Rings. He didn’t know the name of this Vampire but he came often to feed him due to the fact he was tied up, and to fight him. Due to that he now had a fairly good appearance. Servants normally led him to a bathroom every week so at least the vampire didn’t wash him. But he didn’t get a haircut and his black hair came up to his lower back know. He sighed. Life wasn’t that bad he supposed. Note the immense amount of sarcasm in that sentence.

A chuckle.

Vincent shot up as fast as he could and winced due to the pain that shot up his arms. He glared at the man, no, thing sitting in a chair in front of the bars to his cell.

“Humans have such interesting thoughts,” he said, waving his hand in an odd direction.

Vincent growled. He had been listening in to his thoughts!

The thing laughed.

“Of course. Can’t have my little pet thinking of running away now, can I?”

Vincent continued to glare and, generally, wanted to, at that moment in time, to die horribly and painfully.

“You know,” the monster said in an off hand way, “That can be arranged…”

Vincent turned his glare to the back wall of his cell.

“Awwwww, don’t you want to play anymore?”

He heard the door to his cell open and footsteps walk inside. He kept his glare fixed on his on the wall. A hand grabbed his chin and gently turns his face to look at the owner of the hand. SLAP!

“I don’t like being ignored.”

Vincent was still in shock from the slap and hadn’t really gained anything apart from dizziness.

A chuckle.

“I’ll bring you dinner later pet.”

God how he hated that Vampire!