Fingers trailed over the scarlet surface over his face. It was lifeless and cold, yet still stained with the crimson color of what used to be filled beneath his skin. It was as if his neck had exploded, ripped open and spilled liquid velvet over his entire body. There was no stopping it, but what could she do...? She had to... she had to.

"Its not your fault," the calm voice of a man called out in her mind, echoing about with a demonic lithe, "There was nothing that you could have done to stop it. You know as well as I do that you needed it..." His voice was calm, very to be exact. Though the figure of a man stood nowhere near the small circle in which this girl crumbled in, he was there. Somehow there in the shadows, watching with blood red eyes.

"B-but... I... I never..." her voice stumbled with her own words, unable to form them into correct sentences, make them into the right words. For a moment she blurred out heavily in Russian, slamming her fists on the dead corpse while the red on her lips spilled more droplets onto the victims pale skin, as well as the tears from her own crimson orbs.

"What is it that you always told me in Russian?" the voice called back again like a darkened conscious.

Her mind froze for a moment, staring into the empty eyes of the man's corpse before her knees. There were strands, trails of red hair still laced about his skin that mixed with his own blood. For a moment she could not speak, she could not move. All she could see were those dead eyes... Did hers look like that? That cold dead look within her own crimson gaze?

"Krev... za krev... krov za krov..."

"Bread for bread, blood for blood..."

Infatuation With the Devil

It all started about four months ago before the moment of the first kill for food. About four months ago she was still alive, with a heart beat and live blood still coursing through her veins. 120 days, 2880 hours, 172800 minutes, 10368000 seconds. Only nineteen years old. On July 17th, everything for her changed. No longer did she walk in daylight, no longer did she go drinking with friends. No more parties, no more flirting, no more vacations. Life was over for her... well, it had been over for about 10368000 seconds and counting.

Eva Stradavouski. Born in Russia under a Russian father and a Japanese mother. Both deceased. They died when she was around eight on a trip to Greece. The local Church took her into the Orphanage, and that is where she lived until she was 17 and finally left home. Her eyes were still blue then...

In looks, Eva took after her father almost 100. She had the fiery red hair that was usually kept up into a pony tail, and received his sea blue eyes that stuck out in the frame of her red hair. She had a Russian composure, and fluent in English as well, but never liked Japanese. The language was too fast, while Russian was strong, harsh, the rolling of the tongues instead of so many vowels. Whenever she spoke in Russian to people who didn't' know it she smiled. Back then her smile didn't scare her as much as it did now.

But the Japanese part she carried was shown mostly on her back and sides. Weaponry. Eva's great, great, great grandfather on her mothers side was a black smith, and made lots of different old-fashioned blades. But his best creations were passed down and practiced with by generation to generation. Hand carved to perfection, and restored numerous times by other family members. Two Katanas, by the names of Kaji and Koori. Fire and Ice. But her final weapon was the legendary Muramasa, the blade of evil. It was her favorite one, though not for the fact that it was about 5 feet in length and was too heavy to use in one hand like Kaji and Koori. But Eva knew how to use both of them well, and gained a lot of practice from one of the priests in the orphanage in Greece. The Priest everyone was afraid of... Now his smile was scary.

It was early in June when the young girl went jumping around from country to country with the money given to her by the Church for being such a valuable helper and having to spend so many long years in their grasp. The truth was, she hated religion with a passion, and saw Christianity as the worst. But hell, she carried around a golden cross that dangled about a silver linked chain. It was usually over the long sleeved shirt, of either red or sometimes even purple or black. It was black when she reached the borders of Transylvania, on her way by train back to her homeland. To Moscow. She had awaited the journey...

Too bad the train had stopped to soon for her. It had somehow un-railed off the track in the backwards country. No one knew how, but if the conductor wasn't as good as numerous aren't, the train may have tumbled right over into the dying forest. The conductor came on over the loud speaker to warn the passengers that the train may be stuck there for a while until helped arrived, or at least another means of transportation. But for the most part, they shouldn't wander out into the woods, because it was lined with wolves that especially hunted during the deep night like this.

One wasn't listening... one didn't follow the orders. A girl with long fiery red hair jumped from the railing of the caboose in curiosity and began to wander out into the forest...

Eva wasn't scared though. Due to the teachings of the priests, and what she had learned from her family line she wasn't scared of anything. The Muramasa within it's sheath rested on her back, while the two katanas were strapped to her side. There was no fear of the woods the trains had traveled on. No, instead, curiosity filled her blue eyes as she wandered through trees and brush. This was a new land for her, and though she was only 19 and far from childhood and puberty, curiosity was always one that bound the Russian Jap.

It wasn't until it got dark that she began to worry slightly. She has memorized the straight line she had traveled in, but as she tried to return the same path wasn't there. If the train had left she would have heard it, but she heard none. No lights from the windows shot through the branches and thickets of the dead branches. No sounds of fixing or another train approaching to help the other back onto the tracks. Even the tracks were missing!

"I... vere am I?" Eva muttered softly to herself with her somewhat heavy Russian accent. Her blue eyes darted back and forth in confusion, fingertips trailing over the smooth, yet dark bark, becoming darker for her gaze.

But suddenly a pair of glowing golden eyes came into her vision around the bend of a tree. The heaving breath of a beast was evident to her ears. The sound of her boots against the fallen leaves stopped, but her body froze to see the eyes. Was there fear on her face?

As the beast walked closer, the form of the wolf became evident. No, not just one, but three. Three fairly large and hairy dark furred wolves, most likely the males of the pack. Their fangs were bared in the moonlight, with saliva dripping from the bone and onto the forsaken ground. Each pair of glowing orbs were fixated on the young red haired girl.

Within moments the three beasts were off their paws and in the air, flying towards her with great speed with jaws wide open and teeth bared for the kill. Eva was quick enough to draw the Muramasa and use the sheath as a shielding from the wolves, but only enough for two wolves to fall for the trick and dig their razor sharp teeth into the metal of the saya. But the last wolf missed the long sheath and made an attack from under his two companions to come up from below. Yet again the girl was quick enough to draw out her katana to shield herself a bit, while the wolf caught the blade in it's mouth, and howled loudly to the impending pain of biting on the sharp edges of the blade.

The other two wolves had finally made notice of their stupidity and let go of the Muramasa's saya. Eva used their teeth, however, to help draw out the long Muramasa blade. It's weight made it difficult to hold at first with the one hand, but bringing her other arm up under her wrist with the Katana still in her other hand, it made it much easier to wield. With one swipe of her blade across one of the wolves' bared chest, the beast retreated into the woods in horrid pain. Eva twisted her hand so that she let go of the Katana and it slid back into it's saya, and used her other hand to grasp the hilt of her long demonic sword. With another swing she cut across the face of another wolf, and as well he ran in fear. The last stuck his tail between his legs, and ran off in fear of the large blade before it.

Eva's breath was heavy from this attack. Though she thought she did not fear the wolves, for a moment her heart skipped a beat. Her hands grasped her chest as she let the Muramasa fall to the ground, her chest rising and falling with a quickened pace. She was fine, just her heart was beating so fast it felt as if it would make an indent on her rib cage. But she soon collected herself, picking up the Muramasa sheath and sliding it carefully back inside. It was amazing how much smaller it seemed within the sheath. Did the hilt really peak over the top of her head? She was 5'8", tall for her age, and yet she knew the hilt must peak over the tip of her high ponytail.

"Zat vas too close fer comfort..." Her breath was still heaving even as she tried to calm down. It seemed no matter what she tried, her breath would not stop pounding. She wouldn't have to worry about it soon enough though...

As Eva turned about, a scream left her lips as her eyes came in contact with two blood red eyes. Her body tumbled in the quick spin, her boots twisting beneath her and sent her rear end to the ground. But her eyes kept focused upward to the two red eyes. Her heart was breathing faster again, and it would be the last it ever beat this quickly.

Those blood red eyes were still focused on the red haired girl who tumbled to the ground. They seemed soft, yet cold, lifeless. Pupils small, and the crimson gaze so bright, like the same fire that burned in her hair. About those eyes like an onyx frame was his long black hair. It stretched down to about mid back, and his bangs were of equal length. His hair matched the dark outfit about his body, a sort of velvet black cape draped about his entire being. The rim about the neck was fuzzy though, and she noticed the fur as well. Wolf.

But nothing scared her more than the look of his dead, cold eyes. Yet her heartbeat seemed to calm as the man continued to stare. She could see the scar over his cheek in the shape of a thin cross. After seeing the cross she had finally taken in the entire form of his face. He said nothing, and yet his expression was calm, cold, lifeless almost. His skin was pale, and within the moonlight it seemed an even deadlier pale.

"What are you doing here...?" His eerie, yet calm voice rang out in the silence. The sound of his voice sent chills down Eva's spine. It sounded somewhat Romanian, but not perfectly, seeming to loose that accent and yet gain one she knows a bit more. There was a trail of Russian in his voice, but not the same harsh one she had. No, it was calmer, smoother about the T's. And his W's sounded more like English ones rather than the R's she always slurs out when speaking.

"I'm... lost..." Eva told him bluntly, not moving to rise off the ground. Her hand was near the hilt of her Katana, reaching out slowly to grasp the cloth bound handle, but as he approached she pulled away to not seem as if she was actually dangerous.

"You're trespassing you know..." The man told her with a cold, yet eerie voice. Was it echoing in her mind as harshly as those eyes were?

"I... I did not...." She stuttered out, rising to her feet and gathering her weaponry. "I vent exploring in za voods... un lost my vay..."

"Where are you from? Lost your horse and carriage, or just walking... And your name?"

"Eva...." Should she had said her name...? "Und I am not from eh carriage o valking... I am looking for ze train..."

"You are miles from the tracks Eva..."

Eva was stunned. "V-v-vat...? Vat time is it..?"

"Almost 2 am here... when did your train stop."

The girl did not answer however, her eyes flashed with surprise and fear. She had been walking that long? From her memory, Eva drew that she had to have left at around 9 pm. But in her mental state she only thought she had wandered for about an hour or two, but not five! The sheath of her Katana's almost slipped from her grasp with loosening fingertips of surprise. There was no way, said her mind to herself, not a way in Hell that she had wandered that far for that long...

"Well... since you are lost I guess I can take you in... my estate is not that far... come along..." The man turned about as if floating in air, moving in the direction that Eva faced. When he moved his feet gave off no footsteps, no crunches off the dead leaves scattered across the ground. His cape flowed with perfect movement about his body, yet never once did a knee press up the fabric. It was as if he was not walking at all, or touching the ground for that matter.

"Oo are you...?" Eva finally asked while trailing behind the man like a lost puppy. Her eyes were filled with curiosity, and yet fear and woe. At this rate, she didn't think that she would make it back to the train, back to Russia. Stuck in Transylvania instead... somewhere in that region.



"Count Viedma child... now don't fall behind, these woods are dangerous, or you have already realize that..."

Eva's lips shut on command as she adjusted the weaponry about her body. For some reason, she felt light headed as she walked. Something was wrong with the woman, and she knew very well that her body was not reacting well to her body. Like the first taste of alcohol, how her mind swayed back and forth with her vision as she followed the black cape. Maybe it was not her mind that was swaying, but more or less that the increase in questions began to overload the system her brain worked on. Who was this man? Where were they going? Why was he taking her? How could she had been wandering for that long? Where are they exactly? And why did Viedma's eyes burn in the back of her mind...?

"You're falling behind Eva..." the count called out to her as his head turned to see her trailing behind. It didn't take her long either to rush up to catch up to him. For a reason she felt like a lost animal behind him, seeking shelter to a master that the animal barely knew. Walking into a trap blindly...

Minutes later the dead trees began to think before the forest's edge passed the two on their walk. Eva's eyes trailed over the thick gating that surrounded part of his property, the black spikes in which her mind could imagine that someone would be impaled on. The gothic design kept her interested though, the twists of fake iron ivy and thorn thickets, dancing about each poke and spike in the design. After passing the gates Eva's view trailed from the fencing to the castle itself. Her jaw dropped upon her viewing. A large castle of stone and iron, towering into the sky maybe 6 or 7 stories. Towers peaked off the top like spikes into the sky, laced with interesting designs of gothic décor, and the moonlight hanging overhead the largest tower, as if a stairway into the sky.

"Zis... Zis is ver you live...??" Eva asked aloud, her eyes trailing back to the Count to find him gone. The large iron and wooden door was wide open with an uninviting presence. No candles or electric lighting could be seen past the darkness that stood in the doorway. An shadow that curved its finger towards the girl. Her mind was screaming to turn and run, and yet her feet took one step at a time towards the castle.

Into the darkness her body plunged and then the light that was once hidden came up in full flare. Candles, hundreds, in candelabra's and chandeliers were light about the large archway of the main hall. There were lines of armor of old wars and weaponry that were placed perfectly about the walls. Eva could do nothing but stand in awe at the way he had decorated this building. It was beautiful, and no words could replace the décor in explanation. Words were useless now if Eva could tell someone. But something seemed... out of place...

There was no life in these stone halls or well light rooms. Nothing walked across the long scarlet path down a somewhat endless hallway. No music or voices echoed about the arched frames of the ceiling, only the cool wind that could not penetrate the stone and metal. It was if she was in a forsaken tomb, rather than an elegant castle of gothic design.

"Godspodin Viedma...?" Eva's voice echoed about the inner surface of the castle walls, only replied to by her echo. Each footstep she took did the same as her voice, and yet she could not hear any others but her owns. Sometimes, her head would peak about her shoulder with the feeling of a cold breath on her shoulder, only to see her shadow following. Was her shadow thicker than usual in this candle light...?

The Russian girl continued to wander until she found an open door. The sound of a soft violin echoed from the open door as the smell of cooked food waved beneath her nostrils. It was a delightful smell that filled her nose, taking her mind back to hunger. It wasn't an evident feeling before, but now the hours that her mind had missed her body had not. Her stomach growled loudly with tremendous power and sound, and soon fatigue took her body as well. But she didn't take the sudden music or smell as a warning, but instead turned into the frame to see the extremely large dinning room. At most, the room could probably hold twenty people at each of the five long, wooden tables. Windows towered on each wall and let in an array of different shades of moonlight that mixed with the candle light about the room. Cloths draped from the arched ceiling, with different symbols on the same color of a velvet red cloth, each trimmed with a golden pattern of swirls and spikes. Eva thought the symbols must stand for a family, or many, and depending on the amounts it must be representative of different visitors.

Finally her eyes trailed back to the table in dead center of all five, and at the other end, in a large golden and marble made throne was Count Viedma, and both crimson orbs staring back. The black cape with the fuzzy trim was gone, and revealed a type of robe instead. It was a very formal design of velvet black that matched his cape and hair, with long sleeves that were somewhat airy, and white gloves bound and covered both his hands. His fingers were laced within another as he leaned forward on the table, elbows on the glazed wooden surface, and his chin somewhat resting on his knuckles. But it was his eyes that caught her the most, those piercing red eyes that continued to burn into her thoughts.

"I was assuming you had gotten yourself lost..." The count said with a deep tone, and a smirk forming on his pale lips. Even with that soft, yet deep voice, she could easily hear him standing at the doorway. It drew her towards him, towards the table, like she was on a red string and as he curled his finger back her body moved with it. Eva was dizzy, hungry, tired, confused, suspicious, frightened, intrigued; and yet all the while she made no facial movements of either look except that of intrigued. After she had reached the table she sat at the other end, finally noticing the record player sitting upon another one of the long tables to her left, playing a soft melody of the violin.

"You seem hungry..." Viedma turned his head towards the right where the record player sat, and from a blind spot in Eva's vision walked in a young man of maybe 19 or 20, it was just hard to tell what age he was. His eyes were somewhat cold and lifeless brown that matched his fading colored hair. "Jepir... would you please have the cooks make our guest some food? Maybe some syrniki, some kotlety pozharskie, or maybe some kotelty po kievsky, some pelmeni and a mimosa salad? And tell the chefs to start desert... an apple sharlott is in order..."

Eva's mouth watered with the sound of the dishes. Not only could he pronounce them correctly, but he seemed to have picked out some of her favorite dishes from home before leaving Moscow. The cheese balls, the different dishes of chicken, the mince meat dish, the fish salad, and of course, the apple desert like that of a pie. Her mouth was almost drooling with the taste of something she had always loved when she could still get it. For a moment Eva was not even paying attention to the boy or the count, only the taste of each meal on her tongue in her mind. Not noticing the growing smirk on his face.

"Eva...." The sound of her name caught her attention. "What part of Russia are you from? Your accent is quite evident..."

"... Moscow... Count Viedma... I am-... vas... going home...." Eva's voice seemed to trail with the knowledge that she had probably lost track of the train by now, and may be stuck here in Transylvania for quite a while, due to the fact that her passport and her things were on the-

"Moscow... beautiful country." The count had perfectly interrupted her train of thought, and yet she decided to delve into the conversation more without fear.

"You... half been too Moscow...? To Russia?"

Viedma nodded. "It is a beautiful country, but quite cold in some places..."

"Did you zee ze St. Basil church?"

"I did not like it as much.... I am.. not much of a Christian goer."

"Oh.... I zee..."

"I know the legend behind its building though..." Viedma's voice became more of a cocky one as his gloved hands curved about a wine glass that Eva had just taken sight of as well. Within that glass was a somewhat clear red liquid, and yet it was thick as he tilted and rolled the glass in his hands to have what seemed to be wine in the glass. But it was too thick to be wine... much too thick, and much too dark.

"Oh?" Eva asked with curiosity, now also leaning over the table as she listened and awaited her meal.

The count gave a slight cough as he prepared to talk, bringing the rim of the glass to his lips and drinking it down softly, taking soft sips before returning the glass to the table. "It was during the reign of Ivan the IV... Ivan Groznyi, the terrible. After the seizure of Kazan, Ivan had the church of St. Basil built. When it was completed, he took in the marvel of the church that the architectures had built, and congratulated them by blinding them so that they could never build a structure so beautiful again..." The wine glass rose again and touched his lips so he could take another drink, and then it was set down again. "Did you know that?"

"N-no..." Eva said in surprise, shaking her head. Her mouth opened to say more, but a bell sounded in her ears as she watched Jepir, the servant, walk in with the dishes that the count had ordered. In one hand he carried three plates, all covered by metal, to keep them warm and keep the dishes easier to carry and or balance. In the other hand he carried an already open bottle of red wine and a glass. He moved down the long table until he reached Eva, and placed the wine glass and the bottle of wine before her. She reached out to poor herself a glass, but the count shook his head and she retracted her hands and placed them at her side. Jepir moved with the now empty hand to draw out a roll of silverware, placing them in the right spots, an appetizer fork, a salad fork, the dinner fork, a dinner knife, a butter knife, and a spoon. After her place was set he waved out the napkin and placed it on her lap, and began sorting the dishes. One went to her left side of her forks, another directly in front of her, and the last to the right above the knives. With her place set he pulled up each dish cover to reveal the food beneath and Eva's eyes went wide with delight.

The tray on her left held the Salad Mimosa on a large glass bowl. On top was a layer of graded yolks, but she knew that beneath this crust was the mashed fish, mayonnaise, egg, carrots, potato's and onions, and knew the salad would be a delight. The dish on her right were the Syrniki, or cheese balls, little round balls of fried Russian cottage cheese with some sugar, egg, and flower. Last but not least was the main course, the Kotlety Pozharskie, being for the most part, fried, boneless chicken breast that was covered in breading, and the smell beneath her nose was fantastic. Without any wait, and as Jepir poured her some wine, she began to eat at her Salad Mimosa and popped in a couple Syrniki in her mouth. The look on Eva's face was nothing more than pure delight as she had part of this dish, then the next, then some wine, and back and forth across the meals.

"Delicious?" Count Viedma asked with delight as his chin was rested on his folded knuckles yet again.

Eva swallowed and looked to the count with a happy face and cried out to him, "Perfect! I had not any Russian food since I vas a child!" And she began to dig in again.

But something soon tasted very strangely on her lips. The wine, it wasn't... normal... It wasn't that the year wasn't good or that the year was far too old, but more or less that it seemed there was something more in this wine... it tasted, somewhat like blood to her lips. Eva looked to count with a curious face, but soon her vision was beginning to sway before her again. The count was smiling though, as if not question why she had stopped eating as she continued to sway as her vision began to darken.

"Count.... Vied... ma...."

When Eva awoke again she was no longer in the dining hall, or able to see any sign of the count. For a moment her vision was still hazy, unable to see whatever red was in front of her eyes, but could feel sheets under her body. Silk, she was laying down in silk. But her body seemed tight, her waist especially. It was almost as if she could not breath properly... Weak hands rose up to her waist to feel that her body was in some sort of corset, since she could feel the rigid metal frame beneath he cloth. There was some sort of string or rope there too, a weaving of some sort in front of her chest... and as her legs moved a skirt or dress was evident. Someone had changed her.

"Ah, you have awoken," a females voice called out to Eva, which quickly brought the Russian girl's eyes to open wide. Her vision quickly adjusted and shot up from the bed to see a younger girl standing beside. Maybe 12, 13 years of age? With long blond hair that was kept in curls, bouncing as she walked and arranged the room. Her skin was pale, and eyes a fading blue, and was dressed in maid's clothing as she tried to help Eva up.

"The Count was worried for you! You passed out right at dinner, but he has been waiting for you!" The young girl tried to explain with a jumpy voice and expression. Eva was still so dizzy she did not know what was going on or how it all happened. All she knew now was that she was in some sort of dress, and a little girl was dragging her about the halls. Everything was flying passed her vision at super speed, and each bright candle seemed to drag along with the halls, like they were being dragged behind her into a black hole. The words of the girl became a blur as she continued to talk, and no longer could Eva's legs carry her. For some reason, she was tired, and yet her legs continued to walk.

"Ver... ver are you taking me...?" Eva stuttered slightly, her feet wobbling in the high heeled shoes as she struggled to keep up.

"To the ball room!" The little girl's high pitched voice made it into the Russian's ears, "Because the Count wishes for you to be his guest of honor!"

"Guest... of... honor..?"

Eva's mine kept twisting back and forth with confusion, fear, and exhaustion. For a moment her eyes closed, wishing to just collapse on the floor in front of her, but her legs kept walking, her feet kept running. It was when here eyes opened again she found herself in the ball room, sitting down in a cushioned seat on the edge of the room. The sound of a band filled her ears as she could hear the soft symphony of a violin, a piano, and a harp. The tune was soothing, and it calmed her rapid beating heart. But not for long. It wasn't until she realized that she was not alone in this room with just the band.

Count Viedma stood in the center of the wooden floor. The floor looked like wood, and yet the strange part was the design off the round roomed floor looked just like the pattern of angels and a blue sky above, sprinkled with clouds for the young naked angels to hide in. Every design that was on the ceiling was on the floor, and Eva found this quite strange. Her eyes trailed down to see more of the floor before her mind was taken by the dress she was still strapped in. It had to be something from the renaissance age. A purple cloth lined with black lacings, and black rope that held together the front of the dress like a corset. The sleeves were puffy about the shoulders, and yet tight about her arms which would extend into a sort of glove that covered her hand up to her middle finger in a triangle on both sides. After seeing a dress this expensive she shot up from her slumped position and gave a small twirl. The fabric was light, a type of silk that was light and yet, poofy.

"Do you like the dress?" The count's voice echoed from the center of the room over the sound of the music. Of course it was the same calm voice Eva had began to memorize for the past few hours. Yet those blood red eyes still burned in the back of her mind like a scar on her brain.

"Ja... it... it looks... vere.. pricey...." Eva stuttered out again. She didn't know how to react to such treatment. Never before had she had a dress that was this nice, this expensive looking. Actually, when she thought about it deeply, the only dresses she had were for plays at the cathedral at the orphanage.

Her eyes began to raise again to meet that of the count's, and realized that he had his hand extended out in her direction. For a moment her mind went blank, with no thought or feelings, and began to walk across the floor towards him. She could hear the tap of her heals, the sound of her beating heart in her head. Was she counting the seconds in-between each one as it grew with a rapid pace again? The seconds it took to get to his side again and took his inviting loved hand. This close, she was able to realize he had changed as well, now gowned in a uniform like that of a prince. A black clothed prince to be specific. A rose bud in his pocket, his long onyx hair tied behind his head, and the cloth much tighter about his body than his last robes. There was even a small black, velvet cape draped about his left shoulder, tied to his uniform with a silver chain.

"You look wonderful in it though..." The count whispered softly into her ear as he drew Eva closer into his grasp. Viedma took no time into wrapping his other hand about her waist, and her own free hand rested on his opposite shoulder and the two began to spin about slowly to the beat of the music. Eva never knew how to dance, how to waltz specifically, and yet here on this floor she knew how to perfectly to the beat. It was amazing that she could do that she thought to herself, and yet fear filled her mind on how she could. Yet the moment she started thinking again, her eyes were caught in his crimson gaze, and yet again she became mesmerized by his gaze and just continued to dance.

Their feet continued to tap and waltz about the floor in a rhythmical grace. Spinning about and sometimes separating from a their closeness, and yet their hands never released the other. Round and round about to the soft melody they kept their beat. Neither said any words between them, but Eva felt more as if she was hypnotized by his gaze. Caught without knowing that her body was still moving...

The song began to slow a bit more, and the dance became more with the swaying of her own body than to any other foot movements. A pause came and Viedma dipped the young girl back. Her balance was perfect due to all the fighting, but Eva could feel her tied back hair touch the floor, her entire body leaned back. For a moment, her eyes were closed, but something in her mind bugged her slightly, and they opened. When she did, she could see herself staring back... She could see herself in the floor, bent over backwards and facing the ceiling somewhat. The floor was made of glass! A mirror!!

But where was the count that was leaning directly over her to keep her dipped so far?

Eva's eyes opened wide to realize there was no reflection of the black haired man as he pulled her back up into his arms. Round and round again they waltzed about as the music started again. Her eyes kept trying to look down to see if her assumptions were true, but each time she was caught by his gaze again. It was not until she was spun from his grasp again and they were left across the floor holding the others hands did she see there was no reflection below him other than the ceiling above him. No, according to the floor, she was dancing alone.

"C-count Viedma?!" Eva screamed in surprise, and tried to break her hand free as fear filled her mind. But the man did not let go, and instead drew her towards him forcefully and she slammed against his chest with her own front. She tried to scramble away, but his arm about his back kept her pinned against his front, and a gloved hand grasping her chin softly kept her eyes on his.

"Calm Eva.... Calm...." He whispered softly against her face. Eva's mind was still racing with what she had seen, her heart still beating rapidly, ramming against her ribs. But the sound of her voice seemed to calm her. For a moment her mind became intoxicated, absorbed by his voice and his eyes. The look of deer in headlights vanished as she felt each tight muscle lighten. Her mind would wonder what was wrong with her, but the Russian's mind was no longer thinking.

The count closed in a bit more as his nose was close enough to touch the young girls. His voice became nothing more than a voiceless whisper as he spoke, with a deepened lithe that seemed to echo off his tongue in the large room. The music had stopped, time seemed still, and everything about them seemed unreal and fake.

"I've been hungry for a very long time...." the count whispered into her ear, no longer keeping his gaze on hers. It did not matter, she was staring out into space. She stared out towards the ceiling, up to the clouds and the sky painted up high, thinking of the dancing angels that she would never see again.

"C-count...." Eva tried to stutter even through her paralysis, feeling his hot breath on her neck, "Count..."

"You're going to help that...."

Eva's eyes opened wide as she felt a pang of pain surge from her neck. For a moment her voice wanted to scream, but all her lungs could give was a stuttering voice of a moan that echoed from her throat. She could smell the blood that trickled from the wound that the count had created, the pain that was still present even as she felt his lips suckle the skin of her neck. Even as she felt the pain grow to some moments, the girl could never scream, she could never move her body as it felt weaker and weaker. She could feel the scarlet liquid soak into the dress as her body began to feel colder and colder, her vision become wavier and darker.

"" It was the last words that left Eva's mouth as her vision before her turned black. Her breath froze within her lungs as her skin became cold. The blood slowly began to decrease from out of her throat, as it stained the glass floor beneath her. Soon her own image in the floor was erased, and she was left sleeping in his arms.

When Eva woke again, she realized that something that had changed her life happened the night before. Because when she woke, her eyes were red.