NationStates Jolt Archive

Der Fuhrer smiled warmly then as she took Erzsebet's axe and set it aside of her. Softly now, she began, "Now, let us begin the talk. Tell me....you want to be killed. Explain to me the reasons. Tell me everything, no restraints."

She took her glass now and drank the entire glass quickly......she would need it. This day was going to prove to be more trying then some days on the battlefield. As she poured herself another glass, she prepared herself to listen closely to Erzsebet.

"The reasons are simple," Erzsebet said. Her once proud voice, though still somewhat proud, was quiet and soft now. "I have completely and utterly failed, both in my official mission, and in my personal desire. I was supposed to be an ambassador. All I succeded in doing was making you hate me and my nation. I also wanted, and this sounds silly, you to be my friend. I had no more success there. Instead all I got, either was given or brought upon myself, were dishonor and shame."

She looked down from Dyszel for a moment. This was very difficult. "I let myself be betrayed, bringing shame, for being weak and foolish." Erzsebet drank more from her glass. "And a whole plethora more," she added as her tears started flowing again. Despite the fact that to many people her speech wouldn't make sense, and that it translated poorly to English, it was clear she felt this all very deeply.

The man stooped over Richard, who was now laying on the ground, bleeding pretty heavily, to check his pulse. Looking at him, he spoke in the same cold manner devoid of all emotions, "That was rather hasty of you. Pretty rash. You should've known better."

He stood up again and turned away from Richard and walked a few feet away from him. "Medic," he said in that same voice. After a few seconds he repeated the word, "medic" before turning around to face them.


In the mean time, C9 scrambled to Richard's side quickly, her leg wound from before reopening during the duration of her scrambling. She reached his side and quickly grabbed his hand as she leaned over him, looking into his eyes. "RICHARD," she yelled, "OH SHIT! RICHARD!"

She did not notice the man as he moved toward them again. Temporary forgetting about the man, she looked into Richard's eyes until the man loomed over the both of them, causing C9 to shudder in anger.

Turning to him, she yelled, "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?"

And with that, too quickly her world slipped into darkness. She half fell onto Richard, her head landing on his chest, her face, sadly, not facing his. Blood from her head slowly seeping into Richard's already blood stained shirt. Whether a bullet fired or not, Richard would not know, for the man before them knew he was quickly losing consciousness.

The man placed his gun back in its holster, turned, and began to walk away. It would be the last image Richard would see in this fading light as he slipped into unsciousness.....that and the back of C9's head, her dark hair spread out like a fan on his chest.

Richard could barely comprehend his surroundings. There was a man.. he was shot! That woman... C9.... he wanted her by him so badly it was all he could think about.

And then there she was, like a lighthouse pulling him from the brink of a salty death at sea, C9.. she came to him! He strained to focus, but her eyes pulled him in, washed over him; made him feel like he had found home.

His moment of peace ended as soon as she collapsed to his already straining chest. Not sure what happened, but losing consciousness quickly, he took what he had left and put his hand on the back of her head; feeling her hair.

The last thing he saw were the eyes of the death incarnate; the man who shot him, the man he attacked in a vain attempt to save C9. A shiver went down his spine, his only comfort as he accepted unconsciousness was that beacon. A bit of her sprawling hair lay across his face, he could smell the fragrance; he allowed himself to become lost in it as time faded into nothingness, and he was washed away into a dreamless void.

The wind blew gently, a soft flowery smell eminated from it. A man, quite similiar to Damon's stance, the man who had shot Richard, walked back and forth in a room where Richard was laying recovering and slowly awaking from his unconsciousness.

The man left the room and went for a drink, closing the door behind him, leaving Richard alone in the room.

After Richard has passed out, the medic, the man who had left the room arrived and took Richard to this place. Damon, the taken name of the man who shot Richard, the man who struck fear easily into others had chosen to stay behind with C9 and the body of the man who he orginally been carrying.

Everything was white.

The room around him spun, the only discernable feature Richard could make out was whiteness, and the smell of clean. His head felt like a million needles decided to stand up and dance on his brain.. he had been drugged to control pain, those drugs were wearing off.

Richard's eyes travelled the room as things slowed down in his vision, gave him a moment of respite against their torrent of dizzying pain so that he could whisper a name, "C9."

He saw his audience.. it was a man.

'Why have I been taken here? This man... what a familiar thing that has gripped me about him.'

Just then.. Richard remembered that he had been shot as he looked at the man's dark, cold sunglasses. He felt terror rise up in his mind, but quickly quelled it with the thought that if he were to be killed, it would have already happened.. he wasnt sure he wanted to know why he was alive instead.. and hoped that torture, his or C9's, wasnt on his plate.

Richard laid in silent terror and held onto his image of C9.

The man walked over to Richard and pulled over a chair to sit next to him. His back was stiff, his black suit fitting him perfectly, the dark shades covering his eyes. However, from this close, Richard could notice the tatoo of a flying eagle holding a Molotav cocktail aside of his right eye, obscured by the shades slightly. He looked powerful and dangerous, just as Damon, but carried less intimidation with him.

"Richard, you don't know me, but I'm going to be your doctor. You were shot and lost a decent amount of blood. You were given a transfusion while you were unsconscious. It was a perfect match, we knew your blood type."

After a momentary silence, he continued, "Do you know where you are?"

Richard looked at the man who he thought was his shooter groggily, but spoke with passion in his weak voice, "You.. you better have not laid a hand on C9. Where is she? What have you done with her?"

Looking up at his surroundings after realizing that the man had no intention of answering his question until he complied and answered the one he was asked, Richard sat up a bit.. with confusion seeping through his features, "I do not know where I am. I would appear to be in a white room, and in a place that picks their 'doctors' without looking at past job experience," Richard took a momentary breath while looking at the still unmoving man, "I suppose that ive been captured, and I lie in some sort of headquarters. Now where is C9?"

"C9 is none of your concern."

"Then what else would you know?"

He wanted to look at his wounds, but found them to be covered with medical tape and gauze. The bandage on his right arm had begun to bleed through.. his wounds had not yet healed fully. Richard thought that he must have been out for at least couple of days, but no more than 3 or 4.

'I could be anywhere in the Reich.. but its unimportant,' he thought with worry, 'as long as I can find C9 in this ungodly place.'

The man stood up and moved toward the window, opening it. He looked out at the bright sun and chirping birds, the sweet smell of lilacs sifting through the open window. His voice deep, filled with some emotion, but at this moment very frank, broke through the silence, "You are in the nation of Surukai. We brought you here about two days ago after we transferred you from The Dictatorship."

He walked back toward Richard and stopped above him, looking down at him. He shook his head and breathed out heavily, "I guess there is no real harm in telling you this, but C9 is no longer here anymore. Sorry."

Richard tested the name on his tongue quietly after a pang of worry had subsided about the woman he had just begun to get to know, "Surukai.."

He felt a tinge of fear everytime his eyes gazed into this man's, but was beginning to become resigned to whatever they planned on doing to him; it did not serve to hold back his curiosity.

"What are your plans with C9 and I? What am I doing here? You seem to know everything about me, and im still alive.. even after attacking you. What is my use to an assassin in Surukai?"

Richard pondered the man's small emotional reaction, he had such control, that he didnt rule out the possibility of it being a ruse; something to catch him off guard.. but why? This wasnt about torture, they wanted to use him for something; and he intended to figure out for what purpose.

Mathias winced and pulled out the little pad of paper and a pen that he kept on him at all times. He frowned and sat on the edge of the bed on Dante's right side. He scrawled neatly on the pad a simple few words, you did it, and handed Dante the paper.

Dante read it, his face distorting with disbelief. Confused he looked at Mathias almost bewildered, "Me? What? I didn't......how? Me?" Mathias just simply nodded, as Dante shook his head in disbelief. Sullenly, his voice cracked, "But I don't remember it. I really don't remember. How did I do it?"

Mathias sat with the pad open scrawling and scrawling for a few minutes, stopping momentarily time after time to think of how to word things properly and to stifle the tears that were beginning to burn in his eyes.....tears of his failure, before ripping out the paper to hand to Dante. He handed the paper to Dante, who immediately began to read.

It was a time of war Dante. You attacked Queen Surukai, where Der Fuhrer Dyszel, that lady you met earlier, went to assist her in the war efforts. However, you shot her out of the sky, and she was suspected dead. I took control over the nation. You swept over our Capital City, where I was stationed, in attempts to overthrow us quickly. We fought a valiant fight on our behalf, but ended up evacuating the entire nation in order to destroy your forces with a bichemical.

When you started bombing us, you attacked the building I was in. Refusing to leave the nation without putting up a fight, when the bomb exploded, it repelled a heavy oaken desk into the wall, catching me in the midst, pinning me there. Scattered glass from the massive windows impelled me in several places, making it impossible for me to move without killing myself.

As Dante read closely, paying close attention to every detail, Mathias slid from the bed and pulled of his clothing to show Dante the marks left on his body from the war that Dante started. He waited until Dante finished, standing nearby, as Dante read on.

You then raided the building and found me laying there as pathetic as I was at that moment and took me hostage. After I recovered, you used me to get The Reich to surrender. You threatened to slit my throat to them. And they begged you and begged you to let me go, but you simply would not. When they refused to surrender and it became apparent to you that they would not surrender, you just laughed in pleasure as you started to have me beg and beg for my own life in front of my entire region......my home. And you slit my throat, cut deep and not just once. You made them listen as I gurled and gasped for breath, as I said my last words with blood spilling out of my throat, between my cries of pain and torment. You tried to cut off my head with that knife at first, but I guess the game got boring for you and you left me there to die.

So that Dante....is the story behind my muteness. I barely managed to live through that one. Clara was the one who saved me and took care of me. But as you see, I live today with the many scars you left on me.

Dante looked up, stunned and in utter disbelief. He saw the wounded Mathias, the scars that riddled his body, the mangled and twisted scars that ran across his entire body, the thick grotesque scar of his throat. Mathias stepped closer to Dante as Dante reached out to touch him.

Dante ran his finger slowly over the large scar that ran down his chest, and instantly a quick vision of a younger livelier him ran through his mind.....a man who ran his finger down that same scar when it was still just a stitched up fresh wound. It was then, in that moment, that he knew what Mathias wrote to him was true.

He looked to Mathias sadly, with regret in his eyes. "Mathias......I don't know what to say." He sat in silence and lowered his head, feeling ashamed at his past. "I'm really sorry Mathias."

Mathias nodded, the words he waited his entire lifetime to hear come from Dante's mouth, finally coming. He sat aside of the clearly dejected and depressed Dante and rested a comforting hand on Dante's shoulder, nodding his head in forgiveness.

Had it been another time, Mathias would have savored this moment and gloated or have just laughed, or tried to laugh, at Dante, but he knew that Dante really did mean his apology. For once in his life, Dante was serious, and Mathias knew it.

The man moved closer to Richard. "Did you not understand me? C9 is no longer here. As for you.....what we plan with you is none of your business. And I would keep quiet about what you think to know about me. You will find yourself dead running your mouth so much here."

He stepped back and removed a cigarette from a silver container, removing one for Richard as well and placing it on the table aside of Richard's bed, in case he wished to join this man. The man removed a lighter and lit his cigarette quickly, inhaling deeply and breathing the smoke out slowly before continuing.

"I smoke. Where was I? Ah....that's right. You will only be told from here on what you need to know. So don't bother asking questions. It's pointless with us. We could care less if your child was dying and you needed to know something to save his/her life."

He took another slow drag from the cigarette before sitting back down. "Need a light?"

This was a different man.. no less powerful; but Richard finally realized that he was in the grips of another assassin, similar to the one who took him, but subtly different. This was not the man who shot him. It did nothing but take his fear to a new level, there were more of them, and they still had C9.

The man lit a cigarette.

'Everyone has a weakness.'

"No, sir. I do not smoke, makes me feel like I cannot breathe. Thank you for the offer though."

No one liked feeling like the lone sheep in a den of wolves, but Richard liked the realization that he wasnt alone in having weakness. Thus far, he hadnt been shown weakness from these wolves, it helped to see one in front of his face, no matter how small. Richard had always considered smoking a weakness, an inability to deny a drug; he held onto the notion with everything of him that was left and forced a smile as he spoke.

"You are right, excess details are unimportant. They merely serve as a vessel to cause more harm than good. I never believed that I needed to know everything, only what I need to know to smile another day with a joy for what life has to offer," Richard paused, looking for a reaction from the man, he did not find one.

After the pause, he finished, "So then, have you told me everything that I need to know?"

The man looked over him, validating every fine detail about him. He took another long drag as he sat there looking over Richard without a word for quite a long time, creating an uncomfortable silence for Richard.

He stood up without warning and walked back over to the window, looking out at the scenerary, his face blank, staring into the life outside without discernable emotion. After another momentary silence that seemed to be needed to fill, he tossed the remainder of his cigarette out the windown and turned slowly back to face Richard.

"C9 is gone Richard. Gone.....Obselete.......no more..... She threatened too much exposure to our existence and we could not allow that. We had to eliminate her; she brought it upon herself."

He walked back over toward Richard, looking down at him. So many men such as Richard passed before them. So many men whose throats cut easily, whose skull were penetrated easily. When it came down to it for them, no one was more powerful then the other......men like Richard could all take a bullet in the head and that would be the end of it. Men though.....was that their real threat?

He closed his eyes for a moment; however, Richard saw nothing through the reflective shades he had on his face. The man then moved closer to Richard almost ominiously. "Do you know who we are? Who you've just come to face?"

The man's words about C9 were designed to cut to the core.

"She's.. dead?"

'How is this possible? Could he be lying? Will I ever see her again?'

Richard was crushed. He stared at the man while he spoke with desolate eyes, his hope feeling crushed.. his chance at being happy with another person taken away for a reason he couldnt fathom. He felt immediately guilty for leaving the mansion, for making an enemy while destroying two lives.

Richard just then remembered the faces of those who would be happy that she had died.. faces that he now hated.

He answered the man's question woodenly, "No.. I do not know who you are, I do not know anything about the type of people I stumbled upon."

Richard felt it best to not talk unless he was spoken to, lest he reveal anymore of himself to the cruel killers who had taken him and ended C9's life before he had a chance to experience it with her.

A mysterious letter enters the Der Fuhrer Dyszel embasy. It is a pale letter with a wax seal. Upon opening, the recipiant will read in elaborate red ink;

It's been a long time. You have our assistance if you request it in times of war.

yours always,

Ravelyn Shentavo

The man took a seat again, preparing himself for a long explanation. He looked closely at Richard again, staring and analyzing every detail about him beneath his shades.

His voice, devoid of emotion and taking on a very professional aspect, broke from his momentarily silent lips. "I am one of many members of a secret elite organization known as The Reich Freedom Fighters. We are an exclusive organization that knows no bounds. Children of The Reich are told stories about us since birth. Few though, know of our actual existence. You are among the very few; from this moment on you are sworn to this secrecy. If you cannot keep your mouth shut, we'll kill you."

He leaned forward, shifting slightly in the seat, his large figure looking menacing from this stance. "I assume you're wondering why you are here now? I can only tell you that your presence here was a mishap. You were not supposed to run into us. Because you did....you're here now."

With that, the man stood up abruptly and left the room promptly, leaving Richard alone to this new knowledge he had be given and to the thoughts that would undoubtfully fill his head now.

"The Reich Freedom Fighters," Richard tested the name on his tongue with measured fear and hatred alike. If he was to ever leave this place alive, he would have to earn trust; he had been told a secret that he knew immediately he should not have known, that he didnt want to know. A secret that tied himself to these men, for better or worse.

'I wonder..'

Richard shifted his weight around uncomfortably. He sat up straighter with difficulty and examined his surroundings.. the locked door, the security to stop any unwelcome intruder.. or keep away the possibility of escape; he was trapped in a place where he could be killed without warning any second. He was beginning to become conditioned to that bottomless fear, and instead, trying to fill himself with possibility.

As this was Richard's first trip to The Reich, he hadnt the requisite foreknowledge to have heard of these deadly men; but his curiosity was growing. Anything he could learn could be used to find the truth about C9's death, and to bring justice to those who oversaw the order. He would keep their secret, it chilled him to the bones, but it felt final; not that he could talk if he wanted to, but as if his mind had warded off any possibility of him ever speaking about The Freedom Fighters.. Richard supposed that this man was a Freedom Fighter.. he chuckled slightly at the irony of his incarceration by one who would preserve freedom.

'Too much to worry about.. ill need rest if im to figure a way out of this mess.'

His thoughts drifted to C9, and he closed his eyes, silently crying himself to sleep; her image burning itself into his mind.

A guard from the mansion ran into the room in which Admiral Hunny*Dew was still within. She was sitting on the floor against the wall, feeling oddly weak from her excurtions when he handed her the pale letter from a Ravelyn Shentavo.

Vaguely remembering the name, she took the letter. The messenger looked to her quickly with a startled expression. "Admiral, we cannot find Der Fuhrer. In fact, we could not find anyone. Miss Erzsebet appears to be missing, C9 disappeared, Richard is not in his room, Mathias has not been seen since his arrivial, and Dante, who was supposed to be in the medicial facility is now missing as well! It was addressed to Der Fuhrer, but no one can find her!"

Hunny*Dew clasped her hands after standing up and straightening the jacket she now wore. "I shall find Der Fuhrer. In the mean time, make sure no one leaves the complex," she said with a smile in her sweet soft singsong voice.

Der Fuhrer finished her second glass before she knew it, listening intently to Erzsebet. As the woman became deeply upset, Der Fuhrer leaned forward and placed her hand on Erzsebet's leg.

"My dear, failure is the path to success. Without failure you will never know success. Without failure, you will never appreciate what it is you have been given, what it is you have earned. Failure is not failure. It is just another oppurtunity to strive for something you do not have or have trouble acheiving. Failure helps us all. If we all asked to die upon failure, there would be no more human life on this planet. I hope you understand that my dear. You are a good person; you have much to learn. Ending your life now before you had the chance to learn would be the worst failure you can commit at this point."

She poured herself another glass, hearing the gunshot that would have been Mathias's death. She closed her eyes abruptly, pushing back the memory. "Mister Knut, I believe he said it was, would be terribly upset if you died. He loves you Miss Erzsebet. You may not be able to conceive children of your own, but there are alternative means. I believe he would want to share that special bond with you and you alone my dear."

She took another sip of the Bourbon, looking empathetically into Erzsebet's eyes, allowing her time to take in what she had just said.

Within the deathly silence that overtook The Dictatorship so long ago, the winds eerily blew off the ocean continuing to create an ominious sound of a raspy death looming nearby. The subtle howls were the only sounds that penetrated this deathly silence periodically while this once powerful and beautiful now nation lay in ruins.

The only true remaining structure stood atop a large hill in the distance of Stadt des Meeres; it was the mansion erected by Mathias Bortnainsky himself. Completely designed to withstand aerial assualts and bombardments, this large structure that covered a vast area was intrinsically constructed with an aritifical intelligence known as The Red Queen throughout the entire vacinity.

It was within this superior building, within this protected complex, that the national leader and most of the high Reich officials currently collected. It would be here that that nation would learn of their newest threat....their newest enemy. It would be here, within the thick darkened walls and dimmed corridors where the fate of The Reich would be changed from that day forward. For it was this sole threat that would force impossible enemies to fight together against their new enemy and tear apart old friendships all in vain and power. For here......The Reich would face an uncertainty not only about the war, but also about the potential of their long lasting dictator, Der Fuhrer Dyszel.


As Der Fuhrer silently sat listening intently to Erzsebet, striving to keep this poor woman from having herself killed, a little girl brushed her long black locks off her shoulders and sat back in a chair far too big for her tiny figure. She laughed as she prepared herself for her speech....protected by an impenetrable fortress within the depths of Mahanoy, a force powerful enough to take on The Reich itself.

Mathias resummed a seat wearing nothing but boxers in his room drinking steadily from a bottle of Bourbon that he had half finished since Dante joined him in his room. Dante had hoisted himself into a laying position on Mathias's bed, covering his naked body beneath the sheets of Mathias's bed, his head resting back comfortably on a pillow, his body aching with a pain far deeper then just old battle wounds.

C9 had mysteriously disappeared with Richard. None had been seen or heard from after they left the mansion. If they had survived, their whereabouts were unknown.

Hunny*Dew slowly walked the corridors, taking her time, oddly despite the tension that had now filled the entire vacinity. The disappearences of Mathias, Dante, C9, Richard, and now Erzsebet and Der Fuhrer had not impacted her graceful serenity slightly. She glided over the cold marble floor toward the foyer, as if she was listening to waltz that only she could hear.

Alex remained unconscious with Destiny sleeping at his side as supportive as a sister as she could, while others roamed the perimeter of the complex to ensure that no one would be leaving this vacinity anytime soon.

About their seperate ways, The Red Queen naturally was the first to pick up the transmission. It was from Mahanoy, directed to The Dictatorship. Wasting no time, The Red Queen searched the vacinity for Der Fuhrer and found her sitting and drinking with Erzsebet within the kitchen. Appearing as a little girl in a short flowing dress, she bowed as she interrupted Erzsebet and Der Fuhrer's conversation. Her normal giggles and laughter were replaced by a serious and businesslike manner. "Mamaa, Mahanoy is calling. Video transmission. Declaration. Shall I play?"

Der Fuhrer looked to her, not at all startled by The Red Queen's appearence. She thought for a moment, thinking of all the possible meanings of this tranmission and nodded while speaking coldly, resumming her normal manner, "Yes Red Queen, play the tranmission. I want everyone within The Reich. Arrange for it to be done."

The little girl nodded and disappeared as quickly as she appeared. Within the next few seconds a holographic screen appeared where she was standing seconds ago. Within every room inside the mansion were people collected the same screen appeared in the middle of the room, and on every television and radio within the Reich, The Red Queen overook and controlled the transmissions.

Within moments a malicious childlike laughter was heard, as the figure of a little girl with ravenblack hair and black eyes, sitting within that too large chair, appeared. She grinned, the same grin of her father; dark, malicious, filled with malice and the intent to destroy, finding pleasure in destruction. She spoke up, a careless child's voice, worryfree, finding humor in the current situation, "People of The Reich, Officials of The Reich, Leaders of the nations within The Reich, the Higherarchy of The Reich, and Der Fuhrer Dyszel. I declare war on you all! I, Genocide, declare war on you all! I Genocide, of the nation Mahanoy, declare war on you! Especially on you Fuhrer! Today, let it be known from this day forth, that we declare war on The Reich!"

She giggled as she pushed back her chair and stood up onto a stool that raised her above the desk she sat behind. "Silly stupid region! It was me who attacked your precious little city of Stadt des Meeres, not that foolish nation Callisdrun which you morons destroyed! It was me! I destroyed your pathetic city!

"Many of you may not know me. So let me enlighten you. I am Genocide," after a brief pause where her father's features filled her face, she grinned again, "The daughter of Dante. Goodbye now. Prepare for war Der Fuhrer."

As soon as she finished, the screens went blank and immediately disappeared from the rooms which they were, filling the region with a momentary awkward silence as they comtemplated what exactly this had meant.

Artemis paced behind his desk, as he had grown wont to do. He had just placed a base within the Reich, and populated it with some of Adyndril's people. They were too happy to go there furthering Adyndril's ideals; to be there if Richard needed them.

He dearly hoped that Richard was doing alright. The Adyndril Intelligence Agency had recieved reports that bombs had been dropped in two, possibly three Reich nations, and he knew little of any.

He listed the names as he paced, "Callisdrun, Stadt des Meers, and an explosion in the uncharted place where we traced Richard to earlier.. what's going on in the Reich?"

Those tracers had gone on the fritz and stopped working from the moment they left this uncharted territory, and left Artemis worried.. but he knew the boy, he knew that he could handle himself in many situations, and that included within the Reich itself, God willing.

Artemis offered himself a small smile behind his greying beard at his pride in the boy, the one who he raised like a son, his father being away on trips himself for most of Richard's young life.

The decision to place a base within the Reich itself was a lengthy one; he first had to get the approval of a subcommittee before bringing the matter to the council of Adyndril. They had been stiff at first, demanding more evidence as to why Richard himself was actually there; but recieving no more than he himself knew, and he knew it all.. merely that Richard was to seek an audience with Der Fuhrer, and find the resources necessary to help Adyndril train its troops to expel the raiders who came in from the hills. Artemis hadnt yet recieved word about how Richard was doing, but anticipated nothing short of the best from him, nothing short of what he had grown to know of the boy.

A glimmer of doubt entered his mind, 'Perhaps my expectations are too high; he is confronting death itself.. or so ive heard about many of the people within the Reich. Its certainly no peaceful place to be.'

His smile turned into a worried frown as he continued to pace the room, feeling trapped by his obligation.

___________

Dante laid his head back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling blankly, his eyes beginning to drift shut from exhaustion as a consistent internal pain pulsed through his every blood vessel, his every muscle, to his every bone. He exhaled slowly after a long drawn in breath while his body slowly shut itself down in preparation for a much needed sleep.

It was not until he heard the malicious laughter that he jolted awake, sitting upright, startled by the unexpected awakening, that he realized he had drifted off to sleep. He saw before him a darkened room, silent screaming that sounded faintly. He grabbed his abdomen as he looked down, expecting to see blood, until it occured to him this vision he had just had was a memory and not reality of the day he had shot himself.

He looked around the room, first taking notice to Mathias sitting close by him with his eyes transfixed to an object in front of him. He followed Mathias's gaze to a flat screen mounted on the far wall, looking into the face of this little girl who sat before them in a rather large chair. Dante sat unmoving, listening to her every word, as if put under a spell in which he could not summon himself from.

She declared war on these people, on all of them, on all of 'us', but why? He stared at her dumbfounded as she spoke, feeling an odd chill arise from his heart overtaking his entire body, sending a shiver up his spine and filling his skin with goosebumps; however, he continued to stare at her, trying to figure out what she had meant. That was.....until she made her claims:

"I am Genocide.....The daughter of Dante."

"Genocide...........," his mind raced with the name, fear and confusion filling him.

He shook his head in disbelief and murmured a slight no. He tried to pull himself out of the bed, but his body refused to move against itself. "No," he whispered again in disbelief. "I thought she was....you said she was dead.....dead....I....dead....she....dead.....I," he shook his head again in disbelief. "She's alive..... She declared war against you....against me," Dante finished sadly, as if lamenting, feeling a powerful surge he recongnized as the feeling of failure overcome him.

He looked to Mathias, trying to shake back the feeling, "I.....think I'll take that drink now, please."

A meal awaited Richard's awakening. His growling stomach could smell the food itself, as if he was inhaling its substance already. The food tray had been deliberately placed where he would have to get up and get it for himself.

He tested his legs on the floor, and finding them sufficiently prepared to support his body weight, he took a step; and fell crashing to the floor.

Lying down on the cold, hard ground for a moment to collect his thoughts, and to push down a well of rage which forced its way to his surface, Richard uttered a curse word and tried to get up again. His arms made it difficult, they were bandaged and felt heavy, as if a localized pain medication had taken away his hurt and left behind that dead feeling in his flesh.

Finally standing up to his own elation, Richard pushed the tray over to his bed with his hip, sat down, and was faced with another obstacle immediately. The food in front of him would need to be lifted to his face before he could eat it and sate his hunger.. Richard did the next best thing and met the food at its home instead.

Pushing his face into a plate of some sort of processed, but tasty meat, Richard heard a girl's voice; he snorted and hurried to wipe himself clean before anyone would see his degrading behavior. As he looked up, Richard saw the hologram of another little girl, one similar to The Red Queen who he had met at the mansion.. but this one was real, this one was alive.

Her words laced across his mind and seared into his bones.. Richard knew that this was no idle boast; he knew that this little girl had the power to destroy nations, and the means to get it done.. he knew that he should rightfully fear the change that had been put into effect, the devastating nature of the war that they in The Reich were faced with. He briefly wished that he could be with C9 in a remote location, where they wouldnt be found, and could live alone.. but washed the thought away with sadness.

Richard finally took mental control over his despair as the door to his recovery room opened, and he saw a black shoe take a first step inside.

Another man stepped into the room, carrying with him an air of superiorty, which he knew he had. He stopped before Richard and grunted as he leaned against the bed post; the same suit, the same shaded reflective sunglasses, the same shoes, the same tattoo as the other two men Richard had already met.

He grabbed a pen and from inside his suit jacket and a piece of paper and began to move the pen along the paper in a rhythmetric movement. When he finished, he looked up to Richard, clicked the pen and slid it back into his pocket and leaned toward Richard, looking him closely in the eye behind his shades.

Stiffly, he spoke, "Hmmm, you're Richard I see. I've got news for you. A certain Artemis has stationed a base within The Reich for your nation, hosting support for you. Unfortunately, you're not capable of going there any time soon."

He looked at Richard again, brushing a piece of meat off Richard's chin for him. "I'll remind them to give you a straw next time," he added in the same stiff voice as he stood up and handed Richard the piece of paper, which bore a woman laying on the ground in a puddle of blood with the words Lady Bortniansky written next to the head. He stood up straight, fixing his suit jacket and turned to head out of the room.

Richard spoke without bothering to finish chewing the bite that he had in his mouth, showing a complete lack of civility that didnt bother him whatsoever.

"Waib! Ibe god do dalg do oo!"

But it was too late, the man had left the room. Kicking the fancy trough away from him and splattering the food across the door where the man had just exited; Richard screamed incomprehensibly with renowned fury, and took another look at the rough representation that he had been handed. It bothered him that the Freedom Fighters would make him a picture depicting C9's death, instead of taking a photograph. Perhaps they hadnt killed her yet after all.. perhaps it was a joke at what they had already done.

He spoke at first in a whisper, his voice gaining confidence and rising steadily, "Ill do anything for you C9.. ill do anything to ensure your safety. Do you all hear that?! ILL DO ANYTHING!!"

Richard already knew that he hadnt a choice in the things he would or wouldnt do for the Freedom Fighters, but when he did; he would do it for her sake, for the possibility that he might have the chance to see her again one day.. and if not, for the possibility that she might live to be happy once again, that was all that Richard hoped for. Their acquaintanceship had become rather serious; and he longed for the silken feel of her lips on his.. it all steeled his mind for the future, to do whatever it took to get her back, or to ensure her safety.. barring that, to hunt down her killers, by any means necessary. Artemis could handle Adyndril without Richard, so he felt free to finally reach for his own goals, and didnt feel one bit selfish for the opportunity.

Richard was left alone for three days; food brought to him only in his sleep. On the third day of this silence, a man walked into the room. It was almost as if an instant coldness followed in his footsteps and spread before him like an evil auora.

"Richard of Adyndril. We meet again," his cold emotionless voice broke through the cold silence. "I see you've been taken care of during my absence."

He moved toward Richard with a step forward. His dark reflective glasses showing only Richard's reflection. "Should we get to business?"

Richard looked at his first visitor in three days with haunted eyes. He had been left to contemplate the state of his affairs for long enough to be sure that he still feared these men.

The look in this one was the same as all of the others; but Richard detected a colder imprint on his, as if the Freedom Fighter in front of him had experienced more life than any of the others. This was a man who radiated danger.. the feeling brought him unexpectedly to the first time he had felt fear like this.

The memory of being shot in his gradually rehabilitating arms flashed in his mind, and he was sure.. this was the man who shot him.

Instead of feeling indignation at being addressed by his shooter, Richard felt guilt at his stupidity, his mistake. He shoved down the growing seed of fear in his belly and answered the man with a hard face, "Yes."

Hunny*Dew slowly glided into a small office area, a vast desk spread before her. She sat behind the chair of the desk and pulled out dark red paper with the emblem of The Reich as a letter head.

Dear Shentavo,

This is Admiral Hunny*Dew, Der Fuhrer's trusted subordinate. I answer only to her and work exclusively just for her. She is currently busy at the moment to receive your letter, but as a high official of The Reich, I speak for the entire Reich and Dictatorship that we would honored to have you visit. Any personal assistance during our time of war is greatly appreciated.

If possible, we would like for you to send representatives here. Working out of your nation may bring unwanted attention and destruction to your nation. If anything does go afoul, harm will be brought upon us here and not your nation if you are within The Reich.

Thank you again, we will be pleased to meet you. Any friend of Der Fuhrer is a friend to The Reich. Please arrive to Stadt des Meeres unless notified elsewise. From there, you will be brought to our current head quarters.

Truely,

Admiral Hunny*Dew


Hunny*Dew sealed the letter and sent it on its way along with a bottle of The Dictatorship Finest, Bourbon of course. Gliding back toward the foyer, she sat on an old chair staring at the massive doors. Her memories wondered back to a time when she heard about the doors of Dante's home.

Der Fuhrer finished her second glass before she knew it, listening intently to Erzsebet. As the woman became deeply upset, Der Fuhrer leaned forward and placed her hand on Erzsebet's leg.

"My dear, failure is the path to success. Without failure you will never know success. Without failure, you will never appreciate what it is you have been given, what it is you have earned. Failure is not failure. It is just another oppurtunity to strive for something you do not have or have trouble acheiving. Failure helps us all. If we all asked to die upon failure, there would be no more human life on this planet. I hope you understand that my dear. You are a good person; you have much to learn. Ending your life now before you had the chance to learn would be the worst failure you can commit at this point."

She poured herself another glass, hearing the gunshot that would have been Mathias's death. She closed her eyes abruptly, pushing back the memory. "Mister Knut, I believe he said it was, would be terribly upset if you died. He loves you Miss Erzsebet. You may not be able to conceive children of your own, but there are alternative means. I believe he would want to share that special bond with you and you alone my dear."

She took another sip of the Bourbon, looking empathetically into Erzsebet's eyes, allowing her time to take in what she had just said.

Erzsebet nodded. Perhaps she was taking her adherence to honor a bit too far, come to think of it. She would never let it go, though. "My honor is very important to me," she said quietly. The Callisdrunian conception of honor was in no way connected to glory. Honor was something more dignified, reserved than the pursuit of fame. Indeed, it was seen as very dishonorable to brag of one's feats. Erzsebet continued after a short pause, "but... oh, Knut is just as close!" Her accent was quite strong, but somehow, despite the slight hissing of it, the eccentricity made her voice even prettier, though it was still strong.

Suddenly she had a puzzled look. "Why are you doing this? I thought you hated me..."

Just then, the transmission came.

Erzsebet sat in calm, only a little bit stunned, silence for some time after. She had been expecting that someone must have ordered the attack, since obviously no Callisdrunian did, and so a declaration of war of sorts was logical. However, either this... child was intentionally trying to decieve everyone, or she did not know that only a couple cities in Callisdrun had been destroyed. Thinking of that made her boil with rage again, at C9. It had to have been her she thought. "I will rip out C9's throat and drink her blood till she's dry before I end, if I am to live" Erzsebet muttered angrily under her breath.

OOC: I'm going to be away for the weekend.

This wasn’t the way that Charmaine liked to travel. She hated flying more than anything, though it wasn’t out of fear, but pure discontent with nothing to do. She crushed the envelope easily in her hand. The only reason she was doing this was for her nation, and would offer her intelligence and force as much as possible. She was a half-blood, which let her at many advantages. She was stronger and faster than normal, however was caused quite a bit of pain if exposed to the sun. She hadn’t been a direct descendent of the Shentavo clan, which left her (with Alira’s permission), simply using the name.

Charmaine looked around twenty seven with an athletic build and light skin. Her straight, white hair was pulled back into a clip, and trailed to her upper back. Her youthful visage gave wonder onto why her hair had become so pale, yet remained healthy. Her eyes; a deep violet fading into light pools of lavender toward the center. Her lips were berry stained, and a slight flush still lingered upon her cheeks. When standing she reached a height of around 5’8”. She wore a dark cloak to shield her from the rays of the sun on the journey, and underneath which she wore long white pants and a silk shirt.

As she approached Stadt des Meeres, the sun had finally set on the horizon. She felt the rough landing of the small vessel, and stepped out of it almost the second it reached the ground. She hated flying. She walked forward a bit, waiting to be received.

The approaching plane was noted long before it landed. The deathly silence that consummed The Dictatorship broke with the loud hum from the turbines as the plane neared Stadt.

Hunny*Dew stood up at the first sound of the distant hum and gracefully drifted toward the massive doors of the foyer. Opening one of the doors, she slowly glided toward Mathias's personal airport singing softly to herself, regaining her normal relaxed and softspoken manner.

Stepping on the destroyed airport she looked up toward the sky. Lightly, she spoke, "My dear Red Queen, can you please clear this runway? It appears we will be receiving guests soon."

After a moments hesitation where The Red Queen determined whether or not to take the order, a red light shone down from the sky, eradicating all of the rubble cluttering the runway, including the crashed plane that Der Fuhrer, Mathias, and Dante arrived in. With a swift fluid blast, she cut a straight runway along the destroyed runway created a blast of hot air that brushed past Hunny*Dew, causing her to step back lightly.

She smiled at the newly cleaned runway as she looked up to see the plane approaching nearer. As the plane landed, she worked her way toward the representative. Seeing the young athletic woman step off the plane, dressed in unusual garments, she momentarily stopped, taking in the appearence of this new comer before she stepped forward again softly, gliding up to her as if dancing to imaginary music inside her head. Hunny*Dew extended her hand warmly as a welcoming smile lit up her entire face.

"Hello my dear. I am Admiral Hunny*Dew, welcome to Stadt des Meeres. Unfortunately, Der Fuhrer was unable to give you a proper reception, but I assure you that I act in the best interests of The Reich. Come my dear, quickly, it is not wise to meander about devastation during times of war. Forgive the unpleasent appearence of our nation; due to our constant state of war, we have been unable to rebuild fully. Also, we have a terrible silence here....it is best to not speak loudly outside, and be advised that outside of the mansion, your voice carries far, so private discussions are best done inside my dear. Oh, pardon me my dear, what is your name? I have been so rude, haven't I?" she finished with a smile and a wink as she gently wrapped her arm around the new comer walking swiftly but still gracefully toward the massive structure that lay before them.

The hybrid clasped her hand, an icy chill to her pale skin clearly startling Hunny*Dew. The woman did not smile at the warm greeting, but nodded her head. She really didn’t care if there was rubble. She was here to do what she was sent to do; to help. I understand that some conversations are best left unheard, but perhaps my element of secrecy is why they sent me instead another one of the elites, Charmaine said silently, as if a whisper inside of her host’s head. She pulled the hood back from her cloak, revealing her angelic featured face. She was hardly an angel, for the very rays of the sun would kill her.

I do require only a few considerations. I do not work in the daytime, and hopefully you have ways of providing me with a chamber that receives no sunlight or has windows. I do say should I see a ray of sunlight I will be blinded. She paused for a moment. My name is Charmaine, and it is a pleasure to meet you. I understand in times of war casualties and wreckage are very much expected. I have seen several in my own nation.

Hunny*Dew just smiled warmly, as if she had heard nothing at all, the ominious howl of the wind from the ocean silently dancing about the remenants of Stadt. She spread her free arm outward slowly, her singsong voice breaking the deathly silence that dominated for a moment, "Miss Charmaine, this is our current station, Konigsreich der Mathias, Mister Mathias Bortniansky's home. You needs will be accomdated as best as we can, in the mean time, I will ask you just relax and enjoy this momentary silence and inactivity. I hope you enjoy Bourbon, we happen to have the finest," she said with a wink as she glided toward the massive doors that entered the front of the mansion.

Stopping outside, her friendly demeanor dropped momentarily, a serious businesslike front taking its place, "I must warn you. Mathias's mansion is infused with an AI.....you must try your best not to offend her and to abide any orders given by Der Fuhrer. Certain wings of this mansion are not to be wondered. I am afraid our Red Queen will not hesisitate to destroy anyone who wanders about or causes trouble. When in this mansion, it is best to keep reminded that The Red Queen always is listening unless Der Fuhrer directs you someone elsewhere to talk. Also, the owner of this mansion appears to be home and may be about. He cannot speak, so please be aware of his incapabilities. He is usually an accomdating man, but recently he has been sentenced to death for a terrible terrible crime we speak nothing of; his execution has been delayed due to recent events, but he is well, rather destroyed......no longer the same proud and strong man he once was. Well, I think that covers the basics.....oh next to Dante. We brought in our enemy; it is best to keep your distance. It appears he has no recollection of the destruction he brought on us, but if he regains those memories, he may resort to old ways.....and well, he is a dangerous and clever man."

She smiled warmly again after her warning and opened the massive doors, a loud creaking as they slowly crept open, revealing the dimmed interior of the massive foyer.

"Come in my dear, take a seat. I will fetch you something to drink," she offered without a response, as she quickly turned off toward the kitchen, gliding gracefully over the cold floor.

The Reich Freedom fighter looked at him apathetically behind his dark shades validating his response for an excruciating few minutes. Feeling satisfied with Richard's response, his cold emotionless voice broke through, "Follow me."

He turned sharply, and started to leave the room. If Richard was serious, he would follow the man with all his strength. If he could not keep up, Damon would dispose of him properly.

Der Fuhrer sat back in her chair, her back straight and her eyes unmoving from the screen that had appeared in front of her. She finished another glass of Bourbon and poured herself another; the information Genocide spilled neither shocked her or reassured her any. They had their ace against her, but would it be good enough?

"Miss Erzsebet," she started, her cold professional manner settling back in, thinking briefly for a moment, she looked into Erzsebet's saddened eyes. "I do not hate you. Yes, I was offended, but hatred cannot spawn from being offended. Honor is important to many of us. As I understand, your nation takes it very seriously. I understand this well. We take many things, honor included, just as seriously within The Dictatorship; however, we have different ideals of what honor is. Take Mathias Bortniansky for instance.....he lost all honor he had. Now look at him; he is a destroyed man. The body of a strong and respected man now wasting away without a soul. The same must not happen to you."

She drank from her glass again, contemplating on Genocide's declaration. "Miss Erzsebet, we have work to do now. If it is not too much, I would appreciate your help in this matter. Genocide should not be taken lightly despite her age. I have a hunch, Genocide is much more clever then she is letting on, but I also assume she is just as impressionable. I have already taken proper steps to fight her. Yes, it is true, I knew this would happen before it did. I did not know she had anticipated on attacking Stadt; in fact, I am alittle curious as to how she bypassed The Red Queen, but I believe we have Dante to thank for that one. Now, let us go, there is much to do."

She stood up, finishing the remainder of her glass and taking up Erzsebet's axe to hand back when Hunny*Dew walked into the kitchen swiftly and softly.

"Admiral," Der Fuhrer nodded to Hunny*Dew who grinned as she opened a door from the large liquor cabinet and seized another bottle of Bourbon.

"Der Fuhrer," she said with a pleasent smile, "and Miss Erzsebet as well. Pleasure to see you two gabbing away like little old ladies in here, but we have company. I took the liberty while you were busy to invite a representive here. She has arrived. Will you both be joining us for a drink?"

Der Fuhrer simply nodded and handed Erzsebet back her aze as Hunny*Dew grabbed four glasses and waltzed back to Charmaine who was still in the foyer. Der Fuhrer leaned forward, offering Erzsebet her arm to assist her in standing and whispered into her ear, "If you must talk later, pull me aside. If there is anything that lies unresolved, we will discuss it at a later date. Right now, we have business to attend to. We must put this aside for the moment."

With as much grace as he could muster, Richard sat up and put his feet on the floor next to his bed. He was surprised at how well his wounds had been tended to when he arrived, and how strong he felt after his three days of seclusion.

He stood up as straight as he could as his legs shook gently. Taking a tentative step towards the door, Richard found that he could support his body's weight. He moved down the hallway to catch up to the killer in front of him, choosing to go just fast enough so that he wouldnt have to spend time in his company. The man frightened the shit out of him, and it was just the second time in his life that he had ever been as scared. He remembered the first with sadness, he remembered it as the day that he lost C9.

Richard had already shed a mountain of tears over her, today was a day to move forward with resolve. He stood up proudly as he walked down the hallway, instead of letting the pain of his injuries drag him down.

As he caught up to the man, he conjured up a nasty vision of ripping the man's heart out, and met him with a smile.

Mathias stood up, grabbing a glass for Dante, tipping the liquid into the glass and handing it to Dante who drank the full glass way too quickly before Mathias could stop him.

Dante shook his head in disbelief, struggling against the weight of his body and the pain that surged through his entire body to stand up. "I.....no...." he murmured, "I need something to drink."

Placing his feet after a few moments against his struggle, he pushed himself off the bed, but fell forward into Mathias's arms, who perceived the fall and stood quickly to catch Dante, dropping the bottle which shattered into many fine shards against the hard cold marble floor that composed his the ground of his bedroom.

Dante's head spun as Mathias hoisted him back onto the bed and laid him in a resting position, propping up his head and covering him with the sheets. He swiped his hands over Dante's eyes to motion for him to sleep.

Mathias, knowing well ahead, that there was nothing that was going to put this man to sleep, retreived a bottle of vodka, and handed it to Dante who was still muttering in disbelief. Mathias shook his head, but sat sat down regardless. He knew that Dante would be in for one hell of a rude awakening.....and he feared the outcome. Dante was not a man of kindness.....reawakening him to his past might bring out his darker nature....and Mathias had felt that nature when a blade at the hand's of Dante slid across his neck, spilling his blood.....the maniacal laughter filling his head once again.

As the man continued forward, they approached a group of four men, all appearing to be replicas of the man who guided him. They turned and nodded with acknowledgement.

Once Richard and the man met up with the others, they all continued outside, where the bright sunslight that spread across the fresh air and soft and lush green grass. Small yellow flowers swayed with a slight breeze in the warm air. No birds or crickets chirped nearby though. Other then their hard footsteps muted by the soft earth they walked on and the slight breeze that brushed the leaves of the nearby trees, not a sound or peep issued.

The man who was guiding Richard continued to walk, emotionless and cold. His voice, devoid of any feeling, issued, "Richard of Adyndril. We will be infiltrating The Dictatorship once again. You are not to contact anyone to warn them of our plans. Understood? You are to gain Der Fuhrer's favor. You will tell her that you led C9 out of the mansion and had killed her and had disposed of the body. You will tell her that C9 stood in the way of her nation and that C9 was planning a coup. You will tell her your injuries were received from a retaliating C9, but that you had shot her in the head in return. You will make no mention of us at all. We will know. Also, someone landed recently in The Dictatorship.....you will keep an eye on that person. Befriend Der Fuhrer and keep on eye on this new person, understood?"

A helicopter emerged from the air, its blades swopping silently as it hoovered a few feet from the ground before them. "We leave now. Are you coming?"

Had it not been for the company, it would have been a beautiful day. Richard thought about his situation with lament and listened to the man's instructions with a stony face, committing them to memory.

"I understand," he stated as they waited for the heliocoptor to land.

"You want me to befriend Der Fuhrer, lie, and twist her trust to follow your directive; that wont be a problem," Richard said truthfully, scanning the sky in the distance as the wind tore at his hair and clothes, but then asked with a raised eyebrow, "but just how.. close.. do you expect ill need to get to Der Fuhrer?"

Richard did not want to do this deed, but he would do anything to learn more about these men's secrets. The man continued to give him a hard look as the heliocoptor landed. He made no pretense as to who entered first, and he took his seat immediately, awaiting Richard to sit in front of him. Apathetically eyeing the blades twirling around no more than a few feet above his head, Richard briefly considered jumping before he took his seat.

Another man spoke, answering Richard's question with a vicious pleasure he seemed to enjoy too much, "As close as takes Richard. So if that means you need to fuck her, then fuck her, but you WILL get close to her," he said with a malicious grin that spread across his face.

Damon, the leader of this group of men, sat in the middle, with Richard in front of him facing him. He did not move or blink, it seemed, although his eyes were obsecured behind the dark shades. He said nothing as the other men seemed to enjoy the thought of Richard trying to get close to Der Fuhrer.

After a few hours of silence between the other men and Richard, and Damon not speaking a word, or seemingly even breathing at all, his cold voice broke the silence, where the other men immediately silenced the conversations they held about the desruction of someone Richard had not known. "We're not landing this time. Prepare for a jump."

The men pulled out thick heavy ropes from beneath the seat and properly attached them to the base of the helicopter; throwing them outside the helicopter, the long thick rope dancing as it untangled and dangled in the wind with the slight rocking of the now hoovering helicopter. The men pulled out black gloves which they issued to everyone who would be making the jump, including Richard. The four men jumped first, sliding down the rope and touching the ground. Before Richard could move though, Damon placed his cold hard hand on Richard's shoulder.

He detached the rope, the thick heavy rope crashing to the ground. It was him and Richard alone in the back of the helicopter as it broke from its hoover and moved further toward an unknown destination.

Richard occupied his time on the heliocoptor with idle thoughts about what he was to do for these people in The Dictatorship. A cold shiver rose up his spine as he worried about whether or not The Red Queen would see through his ruse, and knew Der Fuhrer to be a woman who was not easily tricked. He felt his shoulders sag as he sat with the weight of committment. Richard was certainly committed to doing this, so he began to convince his own mind that it was truth; that he was the one who killed C9. He used every adaptive strategy in his arsenal to prove to himself that he was the one who did it, so that it would not be as easy to see through the facade which he presented to Der Fuhrer.

'It wont be hard,' he thought, 'I did kill her. She wouldnt have gone outside if I hadnt pressed the matter; by my own hand C9 is dead.'

Instead of tears over what he was doing to her memory, he sacrificed himself to false logic so that he could do what he had to do.

After Damon cut off the rope which had just supported four of the Freedom Fighters, Richard gave the man the same unreadable look which was given him, and felt nothing. Richard peered down at the four men standing below, and figured that what will be, will be.

He sat back down and waited with apathy for whatever the man would have to say as they headed towards their unknown destination, listening to the blades of the heliocoptor beat with fury all around him.

Damon stood up abruptly after a half hour and grabbed Richard by his collar, leaping from the helicopter with a cold force that spoke volumes without saying one word. He released Richard in midair and placed his elbow outward to break his fall.....the fall into a darkness that they could not see.

"Brace yourself. Dive," he called out simply as moments later, his large body broke the surface of liquid and a massive splash was heard. It was impossible for Damon to have created such a splash, but Richard had no time to dwell on it, for he hit the water himself, a massive explosion blowing over the surface of the water, while a strong suction seemed to pull them both under deeper.

Damon kicked free and broke the surface, sliding his shades into the pocket of his suit. His gaze spread across the area as his eyes searched for Richard in the darkness that spread before him. Richard should surface soon, unless he had been pulled under and was beginining to drown.

Richard's apathy was rudely shoved aside by surprise as Damon hauled him out of the heliocoptor.

Hearing only one word from Damon as they plummeted, Richard understood that they were going to hit water, not land. He stopped himself from blacking out with that fact, and prepared to smash into the water.

As they hit the surface of the water, the area was rent with an explosion; massive enough to completely disorient him underwater. Before he could panic, Richard relaxed his tense muscles, and watched the direction of the bubbles escaping from his mouth. As he approched the surface, a big hand hauled him up.

He finally looked at the Freedom Fighter in front of him, into his eyes; and what he saw there gave him more shivers than the cold water which had nearly sucked him under.

Damon spoke nothing as he started to swim toward a destination unknown. The frigid cold water was as cold his demeanor. An hour of constant swimming finally ended when Damon's feet struck shallow water. He stood up, slowly wading without haste toward the edge. Feeling the slick mossy edge, he hoisted himself onto hard surface, turning for the first time to see if Richard had kept up with him. Darkness had composed this place, while a thick rolling fog rolled over the surface of black ripples which lapped against the cold earth beneath them.

After a few moments Richard finally gave way to his sight. He waited with his hand extended for Richard to grab hold of and doubted Richard would have the strength to continue, so when Richard grasped ahold of his cold hand, he pulled him to the cold earth and let him rest as he went off into the woods without warning.

Swimming to the shore had drained a lot of the energy that Richard had left in reserve. He had a hard time keeping up, not being able to fully utilize his arms; so he swam in an inprovised breast stroke, with his legs providing most of the power as he meandered towards the edge.

As the man helped him up, a lance of pain ignited his arm. He merely gritted his teeth against the sharp feeling that rode down the whole side of his body, already focusing on the task at hand; which was currently keeping up with Damon, who was striding off towards the dense woods behind the water.

He took a long breather with his face in the dirt; not bothering to follow the silent killer into the forbidding woods, which looked different from the ones he played in as a child, the ones he learned how to track in as an adult. Richard figured that if Damon wanted him to follow, it would have been made clear from the start.

He flipped over to gaze up at the stars, and gasp in the sweet night air while he waited for the Freedom Fighter to return. For a moment, it was the most peaceful place he could imagine himself to be, and he offered the stars a smile in return for their favor.

Charmaine nearly fell to the floor in silent frustration. “I…I don’t drink bourbon,” she called out after Hunny*dew, but received no reply. Charmaine sighed softly, brushing back the stray alabastor locks from her eyes. She observed the room, and finding nothing that interested her, was forced to wait for her host to return. She really was of the cheerful sort, and Charmaine would not be so if war had struck her nation.

She watched as Hunny*dew returned. “I don’t drink bourbon, but thank you for offering.” Without missing a beat, she continued, "I believe that we will have more joining us who can enjoy a glass on my behalf."

Der Fuhrer sat back in her chair, her back straight and her eyes unmoving from the screen that had appeared in front of her. She finished another glass of Bourbon and poured herself another; the information Genocide spilled neither shocked her or reassured her any. They had their ace against her, but would it be good enough?

"Miss Erzsebet," she started, her cold professional manner settling back in, thinking briefly for a moment, she looked into Erzsebet's saddened eyes. "I do not hate you. Yes, I was offended, but hatred cannot spawn from being offended. Honor is important to many of us. As I understand, your nation takes it very seriously. I understand this well. We take many things, honor included, just as seriously within The Dictatorship; however, we have different ideals of what honor is. Take Mathias Bortniansky for instance.....he lost all honor he had. Now look at him; he is a destroyed man. The body of a strong and respected man now wasting away without a soul. The same must not happen to you."

She drank from her glass again, contemplating on Genocide's declaration. "Miss Erzsebet, we have work to do now. If it is not too much, I would appreciate your help in this matter. Genocide should not be taken lightly despite her age. I have a hunch, Genocide is much more clever then she is letting on, but I also assume she is just as impressionable. I have already taken proper steps to fight her. Yes, it is true, I knew this would happen before it did. I did not know she had anticipated on attacking Stadt; in fact, I am alittle curious as to how she bypassed The Red Queen, but I believe we have Dante to thank for that one. Now, let us go, there is much to do."

She stood up, finishing the remainder of her glass and taking up Erzsebet's axe to hand back when Hunny*Dew walked into the kitchen swiftly and softly.

"Admiral," Der Fuhrer nodded to Hunny*Dew who grinned as she opened a door from the large liquor cabinet and seized another bottle of Bourbon.

"Der Fuhrer," she said with a pleasent smile, "and Miss Erzsebet as well. Pleasure to see you two gabbing away like little old ladies in here, but we have company. I took the liberty while you were busy to invite a representive here. She has arrived. Will you both be joining us for a drink?"

Der Fuhrer simply nodded and handed Erzsebet back her aze as Hunny*Dew grabbed four glasses and waltzed back to Charmaine who was still in the foyer. Der Fuhrer leaned forward, offering Erzsebet her arm to assist her in standing and whispered into her ear, "If you must talk later, pull me aside. If there is anything that lies unresolved, we will discuss it at a later date. Right now, we have business to attend to. We must put this aside for the moment."

Erzsebet nodded as Dyszel recounted the unfortunate state of Mathias Bortiansky. She might be taking the honor thing a bit too far, she had to admit.

As the embattled leader mused aloud about Genocide If I remember that word right... why would anyone name their child that Erzsebet thought, she nodded again. "Obviously she is fairly clever. Her bombing was successful in far more than its surface objectives. I think she made a blunder in announcing that it was her planes that bombed Stadt, though, instead of keeping everyone in the dark."

Erzsebet hooked the axe back onto her belt. She did not feel complete without the ancient weapon. She nodded and gave Dyszel the faintest hint of a smile, taking her arm as they followed Admiral Hunny*Dew.

Der Fuhrer stepped out into massive foyer, her back straight, with the barely recognizable slight limp and the mein of an experienced leader. She wore a full body black stealth suit, despite her obvious high position within The Reich. A long metallic object shone behind her back....the sniper rifle she was always equipped with. Had one gotten past that gun....it was usually a shock to see the figure that had shot at them.

Der Fuhrer's hair long dark hair was pulled back tightly in a twist; her dark eyes scanning the foyer before positioning themselves on Charmaine.

Hunny*Dew had already taken the liberty to pour the glasses and was smiling pleasently as Erzsebet and Der Fuhrer approached them from the kitchen. "Mein Fuhrer, Miss Charmaine," she said as her hand motioned to the newest addition.

Der Fuhrer's gaze set on her, carefully evaluating every detail of Charmaine. Her voice came out cold, distant, clearly resumming her profession, "Welcome to The Reich, if you have not already been welcome. Your stay here will not be a comfortable one. I cannot promise comfort in times of war. I trust my confidante has already enlightened you on the important facts. I am Der Fuhrer Dyszel, dictator of The Reich."

Taking a glass, she drank it slowly, still looking into Charmaine's eyes. "You are not from here at all. In fact, you are different. We will discuss this later in privacy. Keep your identity hidden unless I specify otherwise; that is an order. You will be valuable prey at the hands of our enemies."

She finished her glass and set it down lightly. "Now, that we have finished that, share with us information about yourself. You can trust us here. Miss Erzsebet currently has my confidence. In the event she loses it, she will not be around any longer to share with others of her betrayal. One moment..."

She turned from Charmaine, and speaking colder then before, she called out to appearingly nothing, "Red Queen, secure the perimeter and scan for anyone who may be listening."

The giggling of a little girl was heard, "Yes mommy!" and after a few seconds, "Area secure. No peepers mommy."

"Thank you Red Queen," Der Fuhrer concluded as she turned back to Charmaine. "You may continue now."

Charmaine was a bit shocked at the entry, but her facial expression did not portray her feelings. Prey? She had never been one to be called prey, but rather the hunter. She knew that all of this could change in an instant. She wondered what to say about herself, or if even to let her advantages stray from her mind at all. Pausing a bit to collect her thoughts, she nodded at Der Fuhrer’s introduction, and continued with one of her own. “My name is Charmaine Shentavo, as I feel I have already been introduced by my summons. Other than that, there is not much to say other than I do not work in the daytime.”

Her pale complexion and violet eyes would scarcely convince Der Fuhrer that what was left unsaid was unimportant. Charmaine took the time to push back her white hair from her eyes and settler it over her shoulders. She had not touched the drink in front of her, nor had any intention on doing so in the future. “I have a degree from one of the most prestigious academies in manipulation and combat. If there is someone you wish to get information from, I will be able to do it, though make sure they are human. I offer you my intelligence and strengths if you take with them my weaknesses. I do hope you will fill me in on the current situation."

Damon stepped searched through the dead woods, grabbing logs and kindling. They would need a fire if they intended on taking rest here for the night. The crisp cold air bit at Damon's face as he trudged over the remenants of a stronger forest that stood before it and the undergrowth that had spouted up during momentary times of peace. Occassionally his large mass crushed the skull of the remains of a dead soldier or animal.

Scooping down now and then, he grabbed a humorous or femur that he happened upon. There was not enough good burning wood in this forest, their only chance of heat would end up relying on these mere bones of former soldiers.

A half hour later and a pile of wood and bone next to Richard that would last the night, Damon croutched down and began to build the fire, the structure he built as a base quickly catching. He added a log onto the fire as he stared into its twisting flames that lapped the wood as a dog mauled a bone. After a few moments of complete silence, he sat down in front of the fire, the small frost that begun to form on his wet suit melting away.

He looked to Richard, the ice that formed in his hair beginning to melt, dripping down his face. "You should rest near the fire. It freezes here at night time," his cold voice sounded, colder then the air they were both breathing.

Damon took in a deep breath, the cold air piercing his lungs as he stood up and walked toward the large mass of water before them. Again, he sat back down, staring out into the nothingness within the dark, just the darkened figure of a bulky man in the darkness. He felt the water that had just melted begin to freeze again as he sat there staring out, feeling nothing, thinking of the only mission that he strived to accomplish.

The capture of Der Fuhrer Dyszel.....the greatest mission of all missions. Killing Dante in his prime would have been easier. With Dante dead now though, they had no one inhibiting Der Fuhrer. That measly child would not be able to consume Der Fuhrer's thoughts like the infamous Dante had once done. No, that girl could not compare to Dante.

Erzsebet sipped from her glass, her fangs clinking on it audibly, though quietly. So... she doesn't work during the day? How curious.. I wonder... she thought.

However, she did not say anything. The woman, Charmaine, had talents that were far different from her own. Charmaine appeared to have skills in intelligence gathering and other fields of work that tended to be done low profile. Erzsebet herself was best in a full-on pitched battle. One at sea, specifically. Though possessed of incredible abilities in combat on the waves, she was not especially good at land warfare.

The branches of Callisdrun's military were fairly strict about not encroaching on one another's "territory." The army, or, as it was more literally translated, the "Unified Horde," had no ships whatsoever. The Navy, the "Unified Longboat Fleet," had no land-capable forces other than the Berserkers, who were best mounting amphibious attacks, hit and run strikes and such things. Erzsebet knew how to fight, all Callisdrunian Moroii vampires did, but her knowledge at tactics on land left something to be desired by Callisdrunian standards. She had no knowledge at all of covert operations.

Trying not to let this Charmaine know that, her expression remained cool, her attention clearly fixed on the woman.

Dante laid back in the bed, finishing the bottle of vodka before he realized that he had been drinking a lot. Feeling the effects of the alcohol starting to take effect on his tired weakened body quickly, he stared at the ceiling, his body seemingly starting to swift and sway on the stationary bed.

"Mathias, I think I need something to wear. I'm naked," he said, slowly rolling his head over to face Mathias, who seemed to not be able to sit still in one place without rocking back forth for Dante.

Mathias shook his head again, knowing that Dante had far too much to drink. Standing up, he went into this large closet and produced two uniforms; both black, but one different from the other.

Scrawling neatly on a piece of paper, You left this here. It should still fit, he handed Dante the paper and tossed one of the uniforms onto the bed. Turning his back to Dante, he slid on the pants of his uniform and was working on sliding into his shirt when a heavy thud sounded behind him. He turned to find Dante face first on the floor on one knee with the other leg still attached to the bed, the empty bottle still in his hand, his face pressed against the floor by the force of gravity.

"I think my rib just broke," Dante murmured through a weak cough as he felt the stitches in his shoulder slowly rip open from the extreme force placed on him. He coughed again as the air continued to force itself out of his weak lungs.

With haste, Mathias scooped down quickly, struggling to pull Dante up from the floor. After a moments fight, he rested Dante on the floor against his bed. Dante, who felt the room spin and immediately fell over onto the floor, the pull of gravity too strong for him. "Mathias," he slurred, "I think I need another drink."

Mathias shook his head in disapproval as he grabbed Dante's uniform and helped the drunk man into it. After dressing Dante, he allowed Dante to lay on the floor, holding onto it as if he were about to fall off. Taking the time that Dante used to stare at cold hard marble floor, he finished getting dressed himself, retrieving a holster and his Desert Eagle, filling a few clips in case of an emergency. He did not trust the current company; C9 and Richard were not to be trusted. And with the way things have been going on within The Reich and especially his own house, he felt little at home and more like back on the battlegrounds in enemy territory.

He heard the sound of Dante moving about as he filled his clips, concern starting to grow within him. Perhaps he had let Dante drink too much, but the man needed an escape. He shook the thought from his head, disregarding the fact that the last time Dante heavily drank, he had shot himself, or so it was rumored he tried to commit suicide.

He finished loading his clips and slid them inside his pockets, walking back toward Dante to find the man laying on the ground with bottle of Brandy, clutching onto it for dear life. Mathias let out a long exasperated breath as he engaged in a two minute struggle with Dante to remove the bottle from Dante's undying grasp, which only faltered as his body weakened even more. Dante released the bottle which Mathias resealed and placed back onto the bar. Bending down once more, he helped Dante to his bed and assisted the man, who smelled heavily of liquor by this time, put on shoes. After they were both fully dressed, and a gun concealed on Dante, despite Mathias's growing fear that the drunk man may attempt to shoot them all, they left the room, Mathias supporting the weight of Dante as he struggled to keep step against the horrendous pull of gravity.

"I would rather him shooting at us then him unarmed surrounded by enemies who hated him," Mathias thought as they approached the massive staircase. They stood atop the staircase, looking down at the little ensemble.

A little girl giggled, "Mommy....I think Mathias is listening to you," and the entire ensembled looked up to see Mathias and Dante standing atop the stairs. Mathias in an all black uniform trimmed in white, his gloves, fresh white ones no longer containing blood stains, stood there looking like the once glorious and reknowned man he was, supporting Dante, the man who was once feared at the mere thought of his name, who wore an all black uniform with a small silver pin baring a flying eagle holding a Molotav cocktail.

"Permission allotted, Red Queen," Der Fuhrer's ice cold professional manner resumed, as Mathias took the first steps downstairs, the man aside of him wavering with each slight movement.

Charmaine found this company rather droll, especially with the RQ watching her constantly. She wondered if the computer had picked up her lack of body heat and classified her as dead. The notion made her chuckle a bit, as her full glass of bourbon sit before her. She trailed her fingertips along the rim of the glass, seemingly uninterested in introductions. Why the hell did Alira ever choose me to come, she thought quietly to herself. Why should she not come herself? She sulked inwardly, then heard someone at the stairs.

She looked up to see two men, Mathias and Dante. The latter caught her eye and she tilted her head in observation. Well you are an interesting one… she said to herself. Reaching toward his mind, she was unhappy to find it confused and muddled. The man was drunk, or had been recently, which kept his thoughts and memories out of the young hybrid’s reach.

Richard awoke at the sharp sound of wood hitting against wood as Damon returned from his foray into the woods. His body had long ago adapted to the cold weather by drawing his blood within, giving him the appearance of death; a dim part of his mind worried about frostbite, but it didnt really matter.

He continued to lie on the ground as Damon built and started a fire, only sitting up once the tinder had caught and Richard began to feel the warm touch of the growing fire. He stifled a maniacal fit of laughter and biting retort at Damon's news of the temperature.

Damon stood up and appeared to need space to collect his thoughts; Richard had no intention of following, prefering the painful warmth of the fire over the cold company of the man. He sat and pondered his situation, thinking of a solution, not the problem.

While sitting peacefully, staring into the depths of the living flame, Richard idly wondered about how Alex was doing, and imagined the thought rather curious when there was so much more at hand. He went over a mental list of people he knew to be at the mansion.

'Der Fuhrer, the Admiral, Dante, Mathias, and Erszebet.'

He thought of them, not as innocents, for they had done nothing to put him in this predicament, or C9 into her grave; but as living proof of his failures within the Reich. He did not know that this encounter would mean his survival, nor did he care. For once, the people of Adyndril came after his personal problems, and he couldnt help flashing a grin at how right it all felt.

Damon felt his eyes shut as he stared into the darkness, the frigid cold starting to nip at his face once again. Pulling his shades from his pocket, he placed them back on, feeling the coldness of them press against his face.

He allowed the frigid cold to wrap around him, filling his every vein. He embraced the icecold feeling surmounting within. Coldness.....the only life he had ever known.

His head grew heavy though, falling onto his knees. He could not hold it up. It was cold.....too cold. He felt the weight of his upper body fall forward....had he fallen asleep? He felt a piercing coldness, frigid, icelike, but he could not move his body and was fading into a semi-conscious sleeplike state as he felt his body struggle for breath and fight to reach the dark surface.

He was sinking.....but how could he be sinking on solid ground?

The temperature had dropped noticeably since Richard began to sit in front of the fire. He only became alarmed at Damon's absence when he had to add another log on top of the glowing carbon deposits of the stack Damon had made.

Despite the temperature drop, Richard was comfortable outside in front of the fire, the pain from his limbs re-circulating finally abating; he had always enjoyed the outdoors, and knew his limits when they were concerned. Taking his boots off hadnt revealed any evidence of frostbite, and he figured that there was little to worry about.

His thought process had become centered around the Freedom Fighter, Damon. Richard needed Damon's advice and foreknowledge of Der Fuhrer and the guests of the mansion; and again became worried about his whereabouts. The man hadnt yet outlived his usefulness, and Richard decided to brave the deadly cold to search for him.

Coming upon the spot that Damon's tracks led to, Richard found that they ended at the lake, and was shocked at the ghosting away of his prints, as if he had...

"Shit."

He had become used to his newfound warmth, and did not relish a dip in the waters of that massive lake to search for someone who would kill him on a whim. Diving into the water chased the air out of his lungs as surely as a hot iron to his buttocks.

Damon hadnt drifted far in the placid waters, and Richard located him immediately. Richard dragged him out by his waterlogged shirt, and dropped his limp body on the ground. Taking a calm assessment of the situation while checking the lifeline of the blue skinned killer lying on the ground, Richard realized that the man was near death, and so he immediately dragged him back to the fire. There wasnt much he could do except wait, they hadnt brought extra, dry clothes; the fire was all Damon had for survival. His heart rate was dangerously low, his pulse weak, and his breathing labored. The man would not survive the night without proper care, and would continue to sleep like death itself for a while after that.

After an hour in front of the fire to dry himself out, Richard trudged off to the woods to make a litter to begin carrying Damon back towards the mansion when the sun began to rise in a couple of hours.

Mathias helped Dante down a few more flights of stairs, Dante struggling to place his feet upon the stairs as the proceeded downward. He looked up from his feet, the room doing a wild pitch forward that was haulted by a strong force from aside of him.

He looked at the people staring up at them like they were a showcase and he hated it. He hated the way eyes searched him, as if trying to find an explanation. He hated them all....he hated them all.....Genocide.....

He felt his body tighten, but could not control the aftermath, as his knees gave out and he slid from Mathias's grasp. He felt gravity pull him forward, and he barely had enough time to spin around and reach for Mathias. His fingers brushed the outstretched gloved hand grasping for him as he fell backward, reaching for something to stop his fall, but the sole of his shoe slid off the corner of the cold marble step and his back bent awkwardly as he fought to regain his balance, but the staircase moved beneath him, he became a slid, or so he could have sworn it did.

His back hit the solid onyx designed floor hard followed by the back of his skull, his breath escaping him fast in a cough. He groaned as his head spun, struggling to take in a sole breath.

"Owe," was all he muttered as he laid on the floor staring at the spinning ceiling of the foyer with faces moving in closer toward him.....faces he did not want to see.

Mathias shook his head again, walking slowly down the remaining stairs. Rushing would accomplish nothing..... "But the gun? Would they find it?" raced through his mind in a fleeting thought.

The sun rose with anger the next morning, already beginning to bake the ground with its heat; it was a far cry from the frigid temperatures he worked in a mere hour before.

Standing up through his exhaustion and pain, Richard realized that today was going to be a hard day. He had just finished packing Damon on his improvised litter, and retrieved water in a cleaned bottle he had found in the woods.. likely belonging to the owner of the poor bones which had turned to ash in the fire long ago.. before strapping the litter on and marching off in the direction of the mansion.

Damon had survived the night, but his chance of survival was still dim; he needed medical attention, and there was little time to spare. Richard hiked off towards the mansion, stopping only for short breaks, and never satisfying his need for a long nap.

Finally arriving within sight of the mansion later in the day, Richard breathed a sigh of relief at seeing the imposing fortress that lie just ahead. It was likely that the ghastly device known as The Red Queen had already alerted someone to their presence.

As Richard approached the mansion, two men, similiar to Damon's stance, just like the four that had made the jump much earlier the day before stepped in front of Richard, cutting off his progress toward the mansion.

"We have been waiting for you. Put him down now," the one spoke as he cocked his head to a third man behind them farther with a rifle aimed at Richard. The two moved closer to Richard. "What did you do to him?" the one spoke, hostile and aggitated, obvious in no mood for any games.

This time, Richard didnt bother stifling his venomous tongue; he was far too tired to dick around with these cold-hearted bastards.

"Think. If I had meant to kill him, he would be dead, not strapped to a litter on my back. Anyways.. how would YOU go about capturing a man like him?"

Their guns didnt lower, Richard's voice softened, "This is the effect of sub-zero temperatures and falling face first into standing water, frostbite; I saved him. I think that he would prefer if we discussed a strategy for his survival, rather than placing blame on something done, wouldnt you agree?"

He knew that they would not like his flippant tone, and assumed that they had already known what to do as soon as they saw him; but his first priority was Damon's survival, and until out of Richard's care, Damon was his responsibility.

The two man to Richard's left thrust his gun forward into Richard's face, his tense finger threatening to pull the trigger at any moment. His eyes burrowed into Richard from behind his dark shades.

"Drop him," he demanded as he pressed the gun into Richard's face, his voice cold. "You are lucky you didn't lie to us. You're head wouldn't be recognizable by the time we were done with you if you did."

As Richard slowly and carefully put down Damon, the man spoke to him as if reminiscing, "He has a predisposition for the cold. He cannot feel it you know. That's why he was out there. The cold still effects his body though.....he just can't feel it."

Richard slowly moved away from Damon, as the two men moved closer checking Damon's vitals while the third man in the distance kept his rifle closely aimed on Richard.

"Alright, he's still alive. Let's get him back. Yo, Rich, stay here, you'll be breifed on your assignment," he said to Damon who was laying there unmoving, his eyes shut, the dark shades missing beneath the depths of the icy cold water he plunged into.

The news about Damon didnt surprise Richard; the man would have been crazy to allow himself to grow that numb from frostbite without noticing its onset.

Richard watched the men head off with Damon and gave them hard stares from behind the barrel of the gun trained on his head. The one left behind didnt move a muscle as they waited, and continued to stare at him coldly; Richard returned the stare in kind.

The day wore on a bit, and Richard spotted the Freedom Fighters return; though, not until they seemingly popped up out of the grass. He was pleased that the staring contest between him and the man left behind was over, and the briefing would finally begin.

When the men returned another bolder more arrogant man, dressed similiar as all the others, appeared with them. He stopped in front of Richard and glared at him, a sardonic "I'm superior to you and I know it" smirk spreading across his face.

"Richard, that's pretty funny. I knew a Richard once; he seemed to disappear though.....hasn't been seen or heard from since. So.....I hear you took out The Man," he said with a whistle, his cocky smirk spreading farther across his face. "Good job man. I'll be acting in his place. He's been.....well....we term it, disposed of," he finished with a sneer.

"You see Richy, with us, one keeps up or is elimated. Very simple rules. Kind of a shame.....The Man was quite the man for the job. He was cold though. Hahaha, get it.....cold! Way to push him in the water like that Richy.....the oaf wouldn't even feel it!" He sighed for a moment, grinning at the image in his mind as he looked toward the others.

After a moment of laughter, he pulled out a pair of shades, scratched and dirty. "Here," he tossed them at Richard, "They're The Man's, we fished them out of that lake, if you can call it that. It's custom to keep these if you hack off one of our kind. Kind of like a trophy.....or, if you aren't working for us, a reminder you're going to die soon."

He handed Richard a gun, the gun Richard would recognize as the one that Damon had fired at him. "You'll need this as proof you shot C9. If they uncover her body, which you won't tell them where it is, they will measure bullet marks and such....you'll need this. Your assignment now is to go into that mansion and befriend Der Fuhrer Dyszel. Once you are in her favor, you will come outside and stand at the gates of this complex, by that gryphon statue and smoke a cigarette. We'll meet you there. You have one week. If you don't gain her favor, you'll be killed."

He grabbed Richard's shoulder hard, leaning closer to him, "Good luck man, you're going to need it. Oh and watch the rest of these blood suckers, The Man was an inspiration to most of them, so they'll be gunning for you if you're not careful."

He laughed again as he turned his back to Richard and headed away. "Let's go," was all he said to the other men who joined behind him and vanished into the nearby woods.

Richard looked at Damon's replacement with a stony face, not betraying his confusion; he didnt want anyone to think it was the orders themselves which were confusing.

'What odd people, I didnt kill Damon, they did,' he suddenly scratched his stubble in thought before shaking his head, 'I wonder what it will take to be rid of their presence now that I know things that I shouldnt.. im obligated to them for life from this point on.'

At this thought, he glared at the back of the leaving Freedom Fighters head's, and absentmindedly secured his firearm in the shoulder holster. He hadnt recognized it as Damon's until his replacement implied that it was.

Richard looked into his breastpocket and nearly gasped in surprise.. a single cigarrette and a match rested there in a tiny, clear plastic case; apparently put there by one of the Freedom Fighters, they were thorough indeed. He had already decided not to use it as he headed towards the entrance of the mansion.

He felt like sitting down on the road towards the mansion's entrance and letting the next person hit him on their way out; but remembered with brief despair that there was no one within the area who would be passing by. He let out a sigh at his lack of conviction as he strode up to the mansion door, and opened it without protest.. Richard hoped it was merely because he wasnt a real physical threat to those inside, but imagined that he could be expected. He stood in the entranceway a moment to gather his wits about him for an inevitable confrontation that he was beginning to harden himself for. His head was held high with a hand on the sword at his hip as he heard footsteps approach.

"I think I broke another rib," coughed Dante as he struggled to roll over, but the scene was quickly changed when the massive doors opened, revealing the missing Richard.

"Perimeter invaded," sounded The Red Queen, as a little girl apparated in the middle of the room. The hologram of The Red Queen wore a short flowing dress with her hair pulled back in a bow. She bowed at the sight of Der Fuhrer and turned to meet Richard.

Hunny*Dew glided toward the door, a soft patter intended to be her footsteps. "Dear Richard, welcome back.....we thought we had lost you," her singsong voice rang out gently, as she looked past Richard's shoulder expecting to see someone. "Richard....." she stopped as she sensed that this was not a matter to discuss in front of everyone.

She leaned forward, grabbing his shoulders, whispering, "We will talk later....this looks serious," as she kissed each cheek of Richard's. "Welcome back," she smiled brightly, "Now come, we have a new visitor."

Sliding her arm around Richard, she pulled him toward the ground gathering around a man laying sprawled out at the bottom of the staircase. "Richard, this is Charmaine," she said smiling as she motioned to Charmaine. Looking toward Charmaine, "Charmaine, Richard," she said with a gentle smile.

In the meantime, Der Fuhrer scruntized Richard, overlooking his appearence. He had been out in the woods, that much was clear. Der Fuhrer instantly smelled the scent of nearby woods she was quite familiar with. She moved without a sound, sliding past her current company toward Mathias.

"Progress report," she simply whispered, barely heard, as Mathias shook his head a negatory. "Understood," she said as she walked back toward Dante, dropping to one knee, moving closer to Dante.

Erzsebet continued to quietly sip her drink. It would probably taste good with some blood she thought. The only sound coming from her, though, was the occasional clink of her fangs on the glass. Glass cups were not used much in Callisdrun, in her homeland most drinking vessels were metal.

She did not say a word as Richard came in, though there was just a hint of that deranged look her eyes sometimes got. It was often there, though usually just very slightly like this. Even so, something about them unnerved people fairly often, or at least made them either curious or uncomfortable.

Richard's heart nearly leapt at the initial sighting of Dante, it was the friendliest face he had seen in what felt like months rather than mere days. The Red Queen quickly sobered his offhand happiness with her childlike innocence and deadly countenance. As a result of his encounter, and his general feelings about this whole encounter, he might have appeared more frightened to Hunny*Dew than he thought fair; it had a desired effect, she gave him a look of sympathy, smiled, and introduced him to the visitor.

Charmaine was hauntingly beautiful, but her eyes left him feeling cold, as if he had been doused with ice water when he stared into their undulating voids. Taking a step towards her after introductions, Richard took Charmaine's gloved hand, and kissed it as he bowed.

When he came up, he looked into her eyes as it was proper to do for introductions, and said in his warmest voice and most winning smile, "Its wonderful to meet you Charmaine, I would consider myself lucky if we got a chance to work together."

Introductions having been completed, Richard turned his attention to the others, it was strange to see everyone upon his return, "Good evening to you all: Der Fuhrer, Mathias, Dante, Erszebet; and of course, Admiral Hunny*Dew," he spoke with a nod and smile at each in return, only Hunny*Dew's was shared. He certainly had his work cut out for him, and knew that he would die if mistakes began being made where lies could be caught; he feared the encounter with restraint, driving himself foward with his greater fear of the Freedom Fighters.

"Im not sure I can share my news with you all, but I understand that Der Fuhrer will have questions for me?"

Der Fuhrer gave him a hard look and led Erszebet and Charmaine out of the room to be escorted to their own by Mathias. Only she, Hunny*Dew, and the obviously still inebriated Dante remained.

After a concilatory nod to say that she indeed did want to get to the bottom of things, Richard continued, "I will tell you all that its been a frightening experience.

I am tired, hungry, and in need of bandages for a wound that broke open in my trek last night. I must ask that I be given a chance to explain this further once ive rested up a bit. In the meantime, I think Hunny*Dew would be a wonderful escort to the infirmary."

With another smile at Hunny*Dew, hiding his fear, Richard held his arm out, "care to join me?"

Erzsebet’s fangs clicked against the glass, and Charmaine’s eyes immediately shot toward her. Another vampire? she thought to herself, and mulled over the idea. Invading her thoughts a bit, only to hear the surface thoughts, she chuckled aloud at her comment, and silently responded. I don’t think that they will serve us any blood here, unless we should take some for ourselves. Charmaine’s razor sharp fangs extended over her lips, and retracted again, their appearance like alabastor marble.

She turned her head as Richard entered the room, and took her hand, kissing it lightly. “The pleasure is mine,” she let slip through her lips. The only two who knew of her race was Erzsebet, who had gotten only a glimpse, for Charmaine was a hybrid. She had told Hunny*Dew blatantly that she was a hybrid, though she really didn’t think that Hunny*Dew had taken notice of one thing she had said, including that she didn’t drink bourbon. She ran her fingertips over the full glass while continuing to look at Richard. “I do hope you work late nights. Because of my flight and the time difference, I don’t think I could possibly work in the day, for your day is my night.”



Charmaine
http://www.geocities.com/angelshood_rpg/Genesis.JPG

Erzsebet felt odd when she looked at Charmaine. It was almost as if Charmaine's mind had gone into hers... strange as that was to imagine. She had known that foreign vampires did something akin to that. However, it was not a skill that many Callisdrunian Moroii possessed, though it was thought that all could learn. Only the Batory family was said to know how, and they guarded the skill jealously.

The next sensation was even stranger, it was as if Charmaine's thoughts were being put into her head. Erzsebet could not discern them clearly, despite talks with the Batorys, the Sorvik clan had never been able to succeed in getting them to share their knowledge. She could tell it had something to do with feeding though, that much was easy to tell. Knowing that Charmaine could probably... hear... her... Erzsebet held back a smile, though the corners of her mouth almost went into one. I've already fed she thought.

At that point, Charmaine slid out her fangs. Another trait I've heard of. I sometimes wish mine were like that Erzsebet thought. No Callisdrunian Moroii had retractable fangs. They were all fixed in place, from Erzsebet's long Sorvik daggers to the broad arrowheads of some of the southern clans to the notorious barbed teeth of the Batorys. It was impossible to hide one's nature without being restricted to using a very soft voice, so as not to open one's mouth too wide.

The green fire of Erzsebet's eyes remained fixed on either Charmaine or Richard, but she wondered whether Charmaine was one of the foreign vampires that usually killed when they fed, and whether she was immortal, and a host of other things she had heard and read about foreign vampires.

Dante successfully rolled over, his breathing labored and smelling strongly of brandy and vodka. He struggled to get to his feet, his elbows giving in allowing his forhead to smack hard against the cold oynx beneath him while his legs were positioned ready for standing. It was always comical to watch a drunk stand up....they almost inevitably ended up ass in the air, like Dante currently was.

Der Fuhrer stood up, allowing Dante to try help himself up without assistance. She stood there, her back straight, her pressure slightly off balance as her eyes surveyed Dante.

"Alittle help please," he murmured through his face which was pressed against the onyx, as his body once again felt the gravitional pull that made him fall over.

Genocide....

He started laughing as he began once again to clamor to his feet, giving up and resigning to stare at the ceiling. He laughed wildly at the thought of his daugther.....his daughter.....the one he did not raise.

Der Fuhrer closed her eyes; Dante drunk was wasted valuable time.....or was it? She tilted her head toward the main staircase, directing Mathias with only one simple gesture. He did not need anything more to follow her orders, as he simply walked toward Charmaine and Erzsebet, placing a strong hand on each of their shoulders, slowly pushing them away from the scene and up the staircase.

"He will take you to your rooms. Rest. You are going to need it," Der Fuhrer simply ordered as stood above Dante, wondering whether or not Hunny*Dew, who did indeed run off with Richard toward the infirmary moments ago, would need any assistance. Finding that this time with Dante alone could be used more appropiately, she stood there, withdrawing her long rifle from behind her back and setting it on the ground, resting on it as if it were a crutch while she thought.

Not long after Mathias had guided the young women upstairs, she pulled the rifle up and moved into a sniping stance she regularly took on one knee, aiming the rifle toward Dante who was again attempting to stand up another time, laughing as he fell, feeling the world revolving beneath him.

"Mommy, are you going to shoot him?" asked the little girl who was momentarily forgotten in the rush. Der Fuhrer looked toward her, a cold stare and dark glint in her eyes. "Oh boy mommy. He must've been a bad boy....." she finished as she gasped. Quickly skipping, she found that following Mathias would be more interesting then following Richard and Hunny*Dew, and she definately knew that she did not want to remain there to watch Der Fuhrer shoot the man. She fumbled her way up the stairs, giggling and yelling, "Mayphias wait! Wait! Wait! Mayphias! Me follow!"


"Dante," Der Fuhrer's voice sounded. Only this time, it was not her normal coldlike no bullshit voice.....it was far more seductive, menacing, deep....almost erotic, if it was not for the large high powered rifle aimed at him.

Charmaine did not like being escorted in this manner, nor did she need sleep. It was not yet daylight out, and their sunset had been her sunrise. She removed Mathias’ hand from her shoulder the instant it touched, but was led, anyway, to an upstairs room. She closed the door behind her, and went to one of the mirrors in the room, her reflection unable to be seen. She went to each of the windows and pulled down the shade, taking a few tacks from her bag, she made sure that all would stay down, and none would let the slightest ray of sun in through the windows. She looked over the room, and removed her cloak. She did not like being ushered away so quickly, and she was not one to obey most rules.

She opened the door to her room quietly, and slipped through the shadows. Her violet eyes reflected the light of the dim hallway and allowed her to see. It wasn’t long before she saw Mathias. There you are… she thought softly to herself. She needed to be discrete, and this was her specialty. Without a heartbeat or need to breath left her soundless. Without life, there is no sound. You take away sound, you take away life. Charmaine had died once before, and with that, was reborn into this life. She observed carefully.

Mathias continued to walk down the corridor, heading toward the main stairs, but stopping briefly and turning abruptly down a narrow corridor, The Red Queen at his side. His mind was consummed with the hell wrought on The Dictatorship and his mansion. He once enjoyed being the only man walking these corridors, the sound of his footsteps echoing off the walls, he eyes seeing the passages through the darkness he loved so much. He felt threatened anymore; it was not the same. His home felt like a battle zone; he was probably one of the least liked men in this building; one of the least liked men in his own home.

So transfixed in his thoughts, he barely noticed The Red Queen as she rambled on about Der Fuhrer and Dante and something about a rifle and their guests. He needed to lose himself; he needed to think.....and there was only one place within this mansion that would provide him with most of the desires he sought.

"So Mayphias, why is Dante here? I bet he's here because of her. I don't like her Mayphias. She's too naughty. Mayphias, you shouldn't go where you are going.....bad things happened there. Yep yep.....C9 broke in and things were taken.....and blood and fighting and....ohhhhhh Mayphias, someone is following us," giggled the little girl as she watched Mathias abruptly stop and spin on his heels.

Mathias's mind raced; he could have sworn he did see something, but perhaps his pre-engaged mind kept him from reacting. Upon seeing Charmaine, he stepped back, his eyes questioning her. He looked at her closely, for the first time taking in her appearence. He waited for a moment, his heart suddenly racing, to see if she would explain herself, but seeing that she had not, he withdrew a notepad and scrawled neatly with his script handwriting onto it, Why are you here?

Ripping out the paper slowly, he extended his arm, his gloved hand secure around the paper, the small space between the sleeve of his uniform and the glove revealing a thick scar that ran up the entire length of his arm. His mind hit a brick wall as he stared at her, her appearence so unfamiliar to him. "Why was she here," was all he could think as he stood there staring at her, his arm extended, barely moving.

Hunny*Dew's arm wrapped around Richard as she escorted him to a large conference room rather then the infirmary. As soon as the doors firmly closes, Hunny*Dew locking them, she looked into Richard's eyes sincerely.

Softly and gently, her singsong voice rang out like a birds evening song, "My dear, what has happened to you? You look ill! What has happened? Something dire has happened......Richard.....where is C9? I would have thought she would be with you; she has taken a fancies you. Please, what has happened? And forgive me, but you'll need to start at the top."

Before he could start though, Hunny*Dew pulled up one of the chairs and helped him into it before taking one herself and sitting it aside of him. She grabbed his hand and held it, as he prepared to begin his recollection.

Erzsebet went into her room, which was a little distance from Charmaine's. That woman intrigued her. She'd have to get to know her. However, Erzsebet had never been known for being discreet, in fact, quite the opposite.

Her quarters, as she thought of them, were spacious and posh, but she would rather have been in her cramped compartment on her flagship. The bed was enormous, and taking Dyszel's words into mind, she stripped her clothes off and got beneath the covers, though she almost feared the bed would swallow her, it was so much bigger than her normal bunk on board either Varghona or Ithtyr.

She couldn't sleep. At all. Part of it was the bed, it was just too soft for her, and too big, and located near the middle of the room, whereas she usually slept against the wall on her bunk mattress. Part of it, also, was that her body was unsuited to sleep this early. At home, she would not have even considered sleep for another five hours or so. All Callisdrunians went to bed late and got up late, but she was Moroii, so it was even more so with her.

Wrapping a sheet around herself, she got up and went out her door, looking for someone to talk to. The sheet was an afterthought, only done for her present location, as she would never have bothered either on her ship or in Callisdrun. Even so, the unusual display of what foreigners considered 'modesty' was hardly such. The thin white fabric of the sheet was transparent enough to be able to make out some of her tattoos, and it hid almost nothing. Almost.

Richard might have found Hunny*Dew's manner somewhat seductive, but felt little real attraction attributing to his recent loss and impotency inducing nervousness and stress which had added up with no relief since he was shot.

She had no intention of exploring at the moment, it was not on her mind; Richard admired her dedication to duty first, and her first was extracting information about his whereabouts.

"Is this room secure?"

Hunny*Dew responded with a patient smile, "This is a confrence room used by Der Fuhrer herself, the room is sealed, no noise and little vibration can escape these walls; say what you will."

Richard paused, collecting his thoughts before speaking, he looked Hunny*Dew in the eyes with confidence betraying his inner anguish, "After our encounter with Mathias and Dante, C9 and I left the mansion. At that time, I felt a real connection with her, and was beginning to trust the things she did and said. While walking, after I proposed the question, she related to me the reasons why her and Mathias hated each other; she said that they once dated and bad blood remained, I could tell it was a lie."

After a confirmation nod from Hunny*Dew, Richard went on, "At this point, I was very suspicious of her intent towards the Dictatorship as a whole, and did not want to be involved with a possible traitor, understandably.. Adyndril comes before personal desire."

She kept her eyes locked onto his, intimidation was beginning to gnaw at Richard's mind, but still, he went on, "After I heard her mention a plan to overthrow Der Fuhrer, I realized that it was in everyone's best interests to lure her back to the mansion, and report the things I heard. As soon as she saw my intent, she drew her gun and fired twin shots into my arms from 3 feet away to slow me down, not to kill.. I fear what she would have done to me after my capture."

Richard showed her the exit wound on his left arm, brutally exploded flesh from the expulsion of pent up gases hadnt yet fully healed over, she gave a look of concern, he couldnt tell if it was mock or real. Richard finished his story, "I fell onto her knee and broke it with my forearm above the kneecap, she continued to resist, so I disarmed her and fired a shot into her head right.." he put a finger to his forehead, "here. She's dead... I killed her."

At this, he broke into real sobs, having admitted the truth as he saw it for the first time to another person; when he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, he continued in a weak voice, "I was afraid that leaving without notification would mean my death, so I carried her to a spot away from the mansion, and gave her a full burial with tools found in an abandoned building a couple miles from the site. I left the site as soon as the job was completed, and began the journey back to the mansion, having decided to accept my fate, may it be merciful."

Having completed his story, Richard sighed and outwardly showed his inner exhaustion with a relaxing of his tense muscles. Hunny*Dew showed no emotion while she considered his words.

Charmaine took the paper into her hand, gently brushing her fingertips against his as she did so. She looked at the paper, and smiled lightly. No need for writing anything down… she said silently in a soft voice. You looked like you could need some company. She observed him carefully. She finally spoke through her lips, letting the angelic tone seep over the figure before her, as if she was entrancing him with a siren’s song. “I’ve watched you for a while,” she said with a slight smile upon her lips, her violet eyes never breaking from his.

“I couldn’t really sleep. Nightmares often plague me, especially when I’m away from home,” She looked up at him, her innocent eyes sparkling. “I just need someone to be with.” She stepped forward, and it was clear she had no weapons on her. For the first time someone had viewed her without her cloak on, and the soft black fabric wrapped around her feminine figure accentuated her curves. She placed her hand up to Mathias’ face, running her cold fingertips down to his neck, and around his side. He could smell the scent of roses in her hair, and even though the strands were white, they were healthy and youthful in texture. Charmaine herself didn’t look a hair older than twenty five. “Would you mind keeping me company?”

The Red Queen disappated, slowly fading away, as Mathias stepped back through her, his mind filling with too many images to process. Charmiane's hand touched his face; he began to panic until he froze solid, the color draining from his face when her fingers lightly brushed the scar on his neck.

He stopped breathing, holding his breath, fighting the panic and anxiety surfacing within him. He could not move though; his body suspended.....his mind detached from his unwilling body.

"What does she mean....no need to write anything down? What the hell? How is she going to understand me? Shit....she's going to kill me. Where's The Red Queen; how the hell am I going to summon her? I....damn Dante....why did he have to take away my voice?" Mathias thought as he tried to step back again, but could not muster the strength it needed to move his leg.

"What does she want? Keep me company? I....I don't need company? Do I? Where did The Red Queen go? Why....how did she find me? .......the lab......" he thought as he quickly glanced over his shoulder. No one could know about his laboratoty; it was illegal....they would destroy it. Panic swept over him again as he looked into her captivating eyes.....why.....

“Shhhh…” she said softly, trying to settle the thoughts of his mind. It’s okay, I just needed someone to be with. I’m not a monster you know, I’m just scared because I have no idea what’s going on. I’m somewhere I don’t know, nor have ever visited, to help hu…people that I don’t know nor have ever met. And…you…just seem like you could protect me, that’s all. She looked up to him, and began to focus. She just needed to calm him. She listened to her heart beating.

I really meant no harm, she continued. Oh, please don’t be mad… She stepped foreword, and wrapped her arms around his abdomen. Lightly, burying her face into his chest. I just can’t get rid of those nightmares

Mathias felt her face burrow into his chest; he felt sympathy for the young woman. Slowly, his mind settled, the thoughts calming, as he raised his hand and placed it supportively on the back of her head, wishing he could feel the softness of her hair through his emmaculate white gloves.

He began to feel more like a father in that moment, comforting his daughter after a traumatic event. He held her there, wishing that her mind would not be plagued at this moment, that she could feel some comfort. He wished his home could provide that, but he knew his home was the farthest thing from comfort to anyone.

After a moment, he slowly pulled her away from him, looking at her as if to ask if she felt any better. He was not sure how to help her.....how could he communicate with her if he could not write. A frown settled upon his face as he wished so much to just comfortingly speak to her; a calming voice usually helped many people, but his voice.......he could not even recall the sound of it, for it has been so long since his throat had been sliced and cut the way it was.

Charmaine did not want to let him pull away, but did out of fear that she might scare him away. He seemed very concerned with her, and had begun to comfort her. She looked up to him with thankful eyes, and took his hand. He could not feel her cold skin from underneath his gloves. Please, sit with me for a while, she continued, her lips unmoving still. He did bring her comfort, though there was nothing that her heart truly needed comforting about. She was a charmer to the last.

“Please come with me,” she whispered, a bit of sadness still lurking in her voice. “I have something...I want to show you. If I show someone, perhaps these visions will stop plaguing me." As she lead Mathias, it was clear she was a mature woman from the way she carried herself. Such a woman plagued with nightmares and visions was a strange thing, but all would be revealed in good time. Mathias had a story of his own, Charmaine had a different one, yet both had one thing in common. They were never the same after the one day.

Unrelenting at first, for it has been a long time since has sat down with a woman, he looked at her, his eyes trying to read her emotions as he stared into her eyes. Seeing nothing, but perhaps sadness, genuine or not, he let out a long breath and moved with her to sit.

"She wants to show me something? What could she show me? What could she show me that I have not already seen? I haven't seen it all, but still, something is different about her....she's cold. Not naturally cold; not mein Fuhrer's coldness....no cold.....Dante cold? No, Dante wasn't cold. No....darker cold.....deathlike coldness," he thought as a disturbing chill ran up his spine. He thought about it for a moment, wishing he could laugh at the thought, "Dead.....yeah right. What the hell am I thinking? Damn, I need to sleep." He wondered for a moment when the last time he slept was, and shrugging it off, he allowed her to take the lead on this one, stepping back from being a 'proper' gentlemen.

Germaine opened the door to her room, and closed it behind Mathias. He could see the shades to the windows tacked closed securely, and her bag was the only foreign item in her room. She sat on the edge of the bed and motioned for Mathias to follow suit. She rummaged through the contents of her back, her eyes tearing a bit. She took out a picture, and handed it to him. It was of two girls. Charmaine was the older of the two, he could tell that. The younger was her sister. There was a man in the background smiling: her father. In the picture, Charmaine’s hair was a light blonde, her skin sunkissed with a golden tan. Her bright lavender eyes shown through with an ethereal smile. She looked angelic.

He then would notice the contrast between the two. The face was exactly the same, only the skin was paler. The eyes were darker, the hair was lighter, and sadness lingered in her eyes. Promise me, she said, her lips unmoving. That you won’t run away from me when I tell you, please don’t run away. I just need someone to talk to…this nightmare has to end… Her lip trembled slightly. She bid Mathias to stand, and brushed her fingertips over his eyes lightly, easing them to close. She stood in front of him, and placed one arm around her. Open your eyes… she said silently. They stood before a mirror, Mathias’ reflection the only one to be seen.

“Could anyone ever love a soul like me?” Tears welled in her eyes, though the mirror did not show them to Mathias. “No one could nor will ever be there to protect me. So give me this moment, please…because it’s all I will ever have. This ethereal appearance and cursed reflection. And I share it alone because no one will stay with me, not even a night. But you had something happen to you. Your voice…” She ran her free hand over the scar. “It changed a lot, didn’t it? As my life was changed in one instant.” She looked to him pleadingly. “Please…I don’t want to be alone. Please stay with me, just this night. I never have anyone…”

Mathias stood back in disbelief, looking from her to the mirror rapidly. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out, only the soundless motioning of his lips. His mind raced, "She's not there. She's not there. But how, I see her....I can feel her, can't I?" he thought as he went to grasp her arm, thinking it would move through her. Startled that it had not, but had touched a figure standing aside of him, he looked to the mirror again, panic racing. "Wha....how? She's right here. She's right here! I touched her! How? Damn it....I'm crazy! I'm crazy....that's it! I needed sleep. Now I'm seeing things................Is she crying?" he asked himself as he looked into her eyes.

Quickly he pulled out the pad of paper, his shaking hands barely was able to write when the pen and notepad fell from his hands. She reached for his neck, gently touching the scar, fear raising inside of him, paralyzing his body instantly. He stood, afraid, staring at her, unable to move himself.

"I don't understand," he thought as he looked into her eyes, terror filling his, while he looked for something to disprove what he had just saw. Her soul missing.

“I’m a vampire…Mathias, so if you direct your thoughts toward me, as if you were speaking…I can hear them…” She turned her head to Mathias, who could clearly see her tears now, and also her extended fangs. She retracted them as she turned from him. She shook her head, paper was not necessary. She had a soul, but she was cursed with the gift of vampirism. Charmaine fell to the ground, slumping down to her knees, and head bent. Her pride muffled her tears into soft sobs that she retracted only in breath. She was beautiful, but she cast no reflection to see it.

“I don’t think anyone else would understand…you’re the only one I can talk to who one yell at me. I just want to talk with you. Just stay with me for one night,” she repeated, as another tear fell. “Please don’t leave me.” Strangely, she really did want him to stay. Indeed all of what she said had been true. The pain of it all had been numbed by her gain in the matter, but...somehow...she felt some of it. It came back to her..

Hunny*Dew patiently listened as Richard told his story. Her mind taking in all the information he presented her. She stood up and began to pace as her mind ran through a list of possiblities.

Looking to Richard sternly yet concerned, her songlike voice broke out of her, alittle sharp and strained, "Have you told anyone else besides myself about this?[/i]

When Richard shook his head "no," she began to pace again, thinking of what to do now. Speaking more to herself then to Richard, she began, for the first time an anxious worry filling her voice, "We need to tell Der Fuhrer. We must tell Der Fuhrer. She never did like C9, but still, she needs to know. We cannot let anyone else find out; this is too valuable of information for others. We simply cannot have anyone else find out! We must tell Der Fuhrer though! She must know! What if C9 has a plan in motion? What if C9 has used someone else to implement her plan? What if she....RICHARD!"

She shot a glance toward Richard, who sat up straight with a startle. "Oh so help me Red Queen, if you are lying on behalf of C9 to infiltrate our ranks and destroy us from within, I will break every single bone in your body and and tear your flesh from your legs up, you hear me? Oh, you best not be lying to me! So help me, I will destroy you!" her voice rang angerily, no longer the sweet calm that it once was.

"I'm sorry Charmaine," he thought, as he concentrated hard to see if she could really hear his thoughts. At recognition that she did, he suddenly looked down to his feet, embarrassed that she had probably just overheard what he had thought.

"I'm sorry.....it's just....this is so unfamiliar to me. The only one I know that was, well, 'different' was Noskalenaeuroph. But he disappeared after I....ah....I should've apologized. I broke his nose and jaw.......I....damn it! He left because of me. I bet the shit out of him and he left. I think he's dead now. I don't know, the city was bombed, maybe he lived....I don't know....I'm rambling in my own head and you probably can hear everybit of this," he thought as he slowly looked croutched down, his body stiff lacking agility and flexibility as his knee touched the hard wooden floor, his hand resting on her shoulder.

"Charmaine......I understand. My reputation here in The Reich has been destroyed. People look at me different too. There glares are like daggers sometimes.....I think I understand, just maybe not to the extent of what you go through. I'm sorry I reacted like I did, you caught me off gaurd. Here I was expecting you to pull out a magnum and put some metal through my head. Thought you heard about....well....you know. Not many people like me. I'll stay with you; I'll try and understand, but....I'm not sure you want to be around someone like me, not with a death sentence hanging over my head and oh practically everyone in this region dying to be the one who kills me," he finished as he removed his glove, revealing his scar riddled hand to gently wipe away Charmaine's tears.

Richard looked at her with real alarm, "lying? I dont lie Admiral, others do it for me when its necessary; besides, I wouldnt want to get those pretty hands of yours so needlessly bloodied up by.. deskinning me. I completely agree that Der Fuhrer should be told, after all, its her who C9 was plotting against.

I dont think you need to be too alarmed, I would not have killed her had I thought that plans were in motion, or if she had contacted others; which was the reason I wanted to bring her here.. for questioning just in case. She merely expressed a desire to overthrow the leaders of the Dictatorship, an idle thought. In my opinion, she wanted to find an ally, which was her whole reason for trying to gain my affections; until then, you tell me, who else would help her plan? My previous attitude towards Mathias might have made her believe I had the same vision as she, I do not. Once she learned this, she fired two bullets into my arms, and I killed her.. as much for her attempted manipluation as for her treasonous words."

Charmaine’s sobs eased into a bit of staggered breaths. She felt his hand wipe away a few of her tears. Her tears were cold and on the point of freezing, though they did not. She felt the warmth of his hand flush the cheeks of her face. “I don’t care what you’ve done, you are the only person who hasn’t tried to kill me on the spot. You are actually staying, and it means the world to me.” Her eyes scanned over his face, and she looked into his eyes, her violet eyes engulfing his image hungrily. She had never had anyone to listen to her before, and could never find someone who ended up staying. There were no nightmares, there was only reality.

“I wish I could love the sun again,” she whispered softly. She looked at him with a priceless expression, her mouth slightly parted, and her eyes glistening from her tears. She passed the notion of shunning his presence in the blink of an eye. “I don’t care who you are, or what you’ve done. You have a good heart to stay with someone with a condition like mine.” As she looked him over, she lifted herself a bit, and threw her arms around his neck, bringing her lips to his in a soft and breathtaking kiss. She heard his heart beating. She then drew her lips away, and receded to rest her head against his chest. Help me love the sun again, she thought softly to herself.

Mathias trembled as her cold lips touched his lips; the kiss indeed taking away his breath. His heart began to race; a feeling surging within him that he had not expected. She rested her on his chest and he fought against his power to ease the heavy beating of his heart, which she could probably hear from a mile away at the rate it was going.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, still feeling the coldness from her lips. "She's so cold," he thought, quickly remembering that she probably had heard that thought. Trying to reassure her that he would not leave her if she ever needed him, he brought his hand to her head resting on his chest and for the first time, felt her hair. He ran his hand through her hair, feeling the hair gently part and fall between his fingers....the feeling was undescriable to him. It was the first time in his memory where he had really truly touched a woman's hair.....the first time that he remembered at least. He settled his hand on her head, wishing that this moment would never end.

"Please don't leave me....." his mind begged as if this was all a figment of his imagination.

Charmaine’s words were caught in her throat. She had approached Mathias only for information. No, no…this can’t be emotion. She silently wished that she felt nothing, but she would be lying to herself. Did he, was he starting to genuinely care about her? If she was hurt, or if she was alone? Did he care what happened to someone like her? His skin was so warm to the touch. Would he stay, with a monster like her? She could never walk in the sun with him, nor share the pleasures of the sunrise. Yet he was worried about his past as she was about hers.

“I won’t,” she whispered, her voice now at a reasonably calm rhythm. Frantically trying to keep her emotions and her job in check, she gave into the former of the two. “I won’t leave you…” The words slipped out of her mouth effortlessly. In truth she realized that she needed to do her job, but she placed that aside for the moment, and buried her cheek into his chest, settling in the warmth around her.

Erzsebet passed the hallway in front of her room. Well, partly. She also went as far over as Charmaine's room every now and then. Thinking she heard something, she stopped to listen. Someone was sobbing inside the room, and there were soft voices. It was a woman crying, plainly. Probably Charmaine. I wonder what she's crying about? And who she's talking to? Erzsebet then realized that it was a possibility that Charmaine had heard that thought this close. It was unnerving for the woman to be able to hear thoughts.

Having never known how to hear other people's thoughts, Erzsebet had never learned how to guard hers. She now paced more in front of Charmaine's room than hers. Crying worried her when she didn't know the cause of it.

Mathias just wanted to hold her there, allow time to stop, and just hold her there; relishing in the moment. She was cold, but the cold was no longer startling to him; her skin devoid of warmth was becoming more a longing to touch the to run away from.

He wanted to tell her it all then, his past, his pains, his horrors. He just wanted to unwind time as he confessed the secrets behind locked doors to her; unwind the bullet that grazed his cheek and was intended to pass through his skull. He tried to kill himself.....would she understand that? He had violated a young woman against his will.....could she accept that? He had cried for his dear life at the hands of Dante, but felt the only mercy he would get in the form of a cold blade running across his neck, spilling his blood, soaking his uniform....could she mend that wound?

He did not feel the tears drip down his face, falling into her hair. All he could feel was humiliation, shame, failure. He let down The Reich; he failed his people. He was shot by his own friend; his own friend shot him while he tried to protect The Depths of Hell from invasion. He believed Der Fuhrer to be dead....the worse crime of them all.

"Could she accept a man like me?" he thought, as those silent tears ran down his face. Suddenly aware of his emotions, he tried to laugh as he regained his composure, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his uniform, the dark material courser then a hand. He tried to smile, but depression overwhelmed him.

"I should have killed myself," he thought as he looked at the floor, avoiding eye contact with Charmaine.

Charmaine looked into his eyes. Don’t you start crying now, too. she smiled softly at him, and lifted her hand to brush away the tears from his face. She turned fully around to face him, and turned his chin up toward hers with her delicate fingertips. I’ve shed enough tears for the both of us, she managed a light smile, and delved into his eyes once more. Don’t say things like that, either. It is a greater gift to avoid death entirely then die and be forced to live in the shadows alone. She passed her hand along the side of his face, and let it settle.

She looked at his hand, and pulled the white glove off. She entwined her hand in his, her pale skin contrasting with his. She heard someone pacing in the hallway, and her attention drifted momentarily to the door. Disregarding it at last, she focused back on Mathias. Stray tendrils of her white hair fell to either side of her face, framing it in a picturesque manner. Sunrise would be soon, and Charmaine would be confined to this room or the hallway, to where ever the sun could not reach.

Erzsebet went back to bed, reluctantly. In the morning, she would pay her neighbor a call, perhaps. For some reason, she kept thinking about Knut. How very strange she thought.

She tossed and turned quite a bit in the plush bed before finally falling asleep, wondering what was going on. Her dreams were peculiar, filled with Knut suddenly being in her room in the mansion, catastrophes on unknown land missions, and other things too odd to describe.

Mathias looked toward the door as Charmaine did, an unsettling feeling arising within. "Someone is out there...." he thought as cursed the possibilities. C9? He was surely a dead man if it were her. Der Fuhrer? She would not hesitate to barg in if she had needed him. Dante? No, he was drunk, he could not pace. Richard? Could be him....he may have somehow followed him. Erzsebet? No, she was sleeping. His mind strained the possibilities, but resided to not caring who was there.

He was tired of living afraid; afraid of turning any corner and being shot. Too many people had hated him....and all because they did not know the truth. But how could he tell the truth? His word would not be believed when the overwhelming proof of a crying hurt young woman was all that was needed to condemn him.

He looked to Charmaine, a sad smile of lament playing at his face. He tried so hard to smile for her, to be strong, but he could not. His features dropped, as his face fell into a frown, his eyes suddenly filled with regret and hopelessness.

"I'm sorry Charmaine," he thought, "I'm a destroyed man. I'm weak and I'm tired....I just want to rest....." Before he could stop himself, his strength gave out and his body fell backward slowly, as if he were falling asleep. He tried, struggled, against his body, but he could not keep himself from falling...... "I just need to sleep....." he tried to tell himself, fighting the heavy exhaustion that settled from deep within..... "I just need to sleep........."

Charmaine looked at him carefully. If Alira or Ravelyn had been there, he could be restored of what ails him; however Charmaine is neither of the two ancients. Exhaustion had set in so quickly, though he mentioned of his lack of sleep before. She was a bit perplexed at what she should do. She placed her hand to his heart, and drew back for a moment. You…you can’t be dying… She almost felt another tear stream down her cheek. You…you can’t be…I can’t let you…. She threw her arms around him as he lay on the ground, and remained there for some time. You are dying, slowly. From the inside…I don’t understand her thoughts raced, but she was left with no answers. She rested her head upon his chest and closed her eyes. Dawn was breaking, and there was no where that she would rather be.

Charmaine eventually fell asleep, basking in the warmth of his skin and his touch. It was back to work at sunset.

Dante heard his named called, a chilling sound that tingled his every nerve, growing deep in loins, causing the hairs on his body to stand up instantly.

"Dante..........." The seduction.....the sweet taste of blackberry brandy....the blood red liquid twirling hypnotically inside his glass..... "Dante.........." The kiss......the removal of clothing.....the passion filling him.....the feel of skin touch each other.....those dark eyes......

He shivered as he slowly looked toward Der Fuhrer, a longing growing from deep within, uncontrollable, intense, seductive. He moaned quietly, trying in vain to fight back the feeling.......

"You......" he breathed heavily yet softly, his voice shaking, the feeling taking over his body, tingling and sensual.

Der Fuhrer grinned, a satisfactory response from Dante, but it was not precisely what she needed. She needed to trigger something deeper; the will power to wage war, to fight, to destroy.

Aiming thoroughly, although she needed not being at such close range, she pointed the rifle at his head, as his eyes stared at the rifle, seemingly begging for her to pull the trigger. And she did, there and then, the high powered rifle fired immediately. The bullet hit its target before a sound even issued, shards of onyx scattering into the air. The shot was heard moments after, loud, powerful, forceful.....surely many within the foyer proximity were bound to hear it.

Dante gasped, feeling the heat from the speeding bullet sear his cheek, a large shard of onyx cutting his neck. Neck: The blood pour through Der Fuhrer's fingers as he was pushed down onto the table, the scalple no longer in his hands. Neck: The knife held tightly in his hand as he grabbed Mathias's hair, pulling his head back as he began to savagely cut at the man's throat.....the man's warm blood spilling over his hands and splurting outward as he severed the major vessels. Neck: The hands around his throat as he struggled to break free from that man's grasp.

A flash flood of memories resurfaced beyond his control now. The rifle.....the gunshot.....his head.....his abdomen......his ass.....an explosion....Der Fuhrer's helicopter going down.....the battlefield.....his base in Whitecastle......GENOCIDE.......

Mathias laid there as Charmaine rested on him, the comfort of a woman's compassion soothing his weak and tired body. He struggled to fight the exhaustion within, but he could not, even raising his arm to rest upon her was far too much of an effort at this point.

He closed his eyes, embracing this moment, for he feared this moment would be the last he would ever experience. He wanted to suspend time again, suspend it so he could feel her touch longer, but he knew that was impossible....he knew it could never happen.....unless he died. If he died, he would be suspended in time, this compassion, this care, this feeling the last moment he would have. But no, he could not die; no, he had to live out his living sentence until The Reich ended his misery. He had committed the crime, he must pay for it.

His thoughts ceased plaguing him and before he knew it, he was asleep, Charmaine sleeping as well, resting on him. Perhaps, as the day wore on, his strength would regain momentarily as he rested, or so he had hoped. He felt for a long time now the deep exhaustion spreading.....he suspected he was dying, but how to stop it, he could not fathom. He slipped into a world of peaceful dreams of the old days within The Reich, but come even as his dreams were, he could not speak in them as well. His voice was a relic of the past; a forgotten relic no one seemed to remember. His dreams shifted from the past to the future.....a dance with Charmaine.....he thought that would be wonderful.....something worth dying for, as their bodies just glided around effortlessly without a care in world, without pain or weakness to stop them.

Mathias was becoming attached to this woman; her pain became a beauty to him. They had much more in common then both had realized; the life in darkness for one, for Mathias too hated the day....his mansion showing that aspect strongly with its thick dark drapes, the dimmed lights and dark corridors. He preferred the darkness; not many enjoyed its mysteries.

As the day broke away, night time slowly beginning to slip into Stadt, Mathias slept soundly; his tired exhausted body slowly regenerating the energy he would need to survive the next day. Each day was becoming harder for him......perhaps it was about time he broke the news to the others.....or would this just be a secret he would keep with Charmaine, who had been the only one to discover the truth, his secret, his deepest weakness.

Hunny*Dew grabbed Richard's arm and quickly pulled him from the conference room, fumbling with the lock as she tried to undo it. As she did, she quickly swung open the door and issued him out, working her way down the labyrinthe of corridors until they neared the foyer.

"Quickly, we must tell Der Fuhrer right away. We simply must. This is very imperat......" she was cut when the sound of her infamous rifle fired a sole shot. "Oh no," she murmered as she stopped dead in her tracks, "this cannot be good."

She looked to Richard, fearing surfacing in her eyes. She hesitated to move forward; fearing the sight they would see. Der Fuhrer never fired her rifle inside unless it was serious.

The gunshot echoed off of the walls, loud enough to hear despite the distance Richard could tell was between them and its issuer.

"We must go quickly Admiral," Richard stated with urgency, noting the hesitation of Hunny*Dew, "someone might need our help."

He grabbed Hunny*Dew much the same way she grabbed him and ushered her off towards the sound of the rifle report; he too feared what they would find when they reached the origin of the shot.

Hunny*Dew did a double-take and seemed to gather her wits, she took her hand out of his and ran next to him, their footsteps echoing down the barren hallways.

When they reached what appeared to be the area where the gunshot came from, Richard pulled out Damon's gun to take every necessary precaution; out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hunny*Dew visibly steel her resolve for the sight they would soon encounter.

She easily snapped the neck of the first, taking to the second in sinking her fangs into his shoulder, tasting the blood before breaking his nose. One after the other. Their blood accumulated on her hands, staining them a deep crimson as her scarlet eyes flashed at those who challenged her. Bottles were braking in the bar as the brawl ensued. Charmaine was not alone; she was with another woman with dark red hair and black eyes. The other woman had darker skin and a devilish quality about her not really able to be placed. Both of them were caught up in the fight, back to back and working with each other as if programmed to do so. As less people came foreword, Charmaine made a break for the stairs. The other followed, drawing a dagger and slicing the hand of another.

The two came out upon the roof, and some followed while the majority stayed downstairs. She other one sighted, and laughed out loud. “This is what we get, Charmaine, eh?” She chuckled as she threw her dagger into the neck of one of the ones approaching. “Fighting off a bunch of worthless cattle for the sheer purpose of finding one person…Charmaine?” she said, turning toward the white-haired girl. Her eyes were settled on the wounds of some of the others, a deep bloodlust in her eyes. Charmaine glanced down at the blood on her hands, and for a moment, felt a wave of emotion come over her.

Charmaine’s eyes fluttered open as the last rays of sunlight dwindled. Mathias was still asleep. She kissed his forehead, not completely realizing that she had, and rose to her feet. She passed into the bathroom, the door not shut completely. She slid her silken yukata off of her shoulders, and continued to remove the rest of her clothes. She stepped into the shower, and turned on the water. The hot water rushed over her frozen skin, warming her deeply. She continued to dwindle over her hands. She still felt the blood, still saw it, still tasted it, and still craved it.

Hunny*Dew haulted aside of Richard, placing her hand on his raised weapon quickly to pull it down, feeling the heat beginning to pick up as The Red Queen took precautionary steps incase of a fired bullet.

"Lower your weapon! NOW!" she almost yelled quickly looking to him, " My goodness, you could have been a pile of dust! Der Fuhrer is not in trouble, but I fear......well....."

She moved into the foyer, her eyes settling on Dante who was propped up on one hand covering his neck with the other; Der Fuhrer still her sniping stance. At the sight of Hunny*Dew, she lowered her rifle and slowly stood up, a grin of satisfication spreading across her face. "I believe I made progress today," she said simply, as Dante tried to turn his head despite the small trickle of blood through his fingers.

"Remain still Dante," she ordered coldly as she walked toward Hunny*Dew and Richard. "Report," she said simply.

Hunny*Dew looked to Richard, "It is best you explain."

Mathias continued to sleep as Charmaine took a shower, unaware of anything as his body regained its energy. Fast asleep, lost in the world of dreams, of young Charmaine, those eyes and that cold feel of her skin, he was jolted awake when the all too familiar sound of a rifle reverberated through the corridors. It was not loud, not too loud, enough to be heard though, but it invoked thoughts and memories he worked for a long time to push aside.

He tried to yell out, but his muted voice only escaped as a raspy harsh breath. He rolled onto his side, trying to work out his stiff joints in order to merely stand. Finding his joints not flexible enough, he resided to lay back onto his back and stare at the dark ceiling as listened to the sound of the water running from the opened bathroom door. She was taking a shower......he could only imagine what it would be like for her. His thoughts ran from whether or not she took a cold or warm shower to what it would be like to wash her back and feel her wet hair, but he pushed aside those thoughts quickly. He could not even stand yet, there was no way she could accept a man like him, he told himself as he resigned to staring at the ceiling, trying slowly to bend his knees and work out his stiff muscles and joints.

Richard was the one who showed surprise this time around, had he known that it was Der Fuhrer who shot the gun, he would have likely stayed away; there was no need to interrupt an angry woman with a gun. Der Fuhrer, however, looked oddly satisfied, and more amiable than before.

He swallowed and looked at Hunny*Dew, "you want ME to report to HER?" he said with a glance at the long sniper rifle which Der Fuhrer still had in her hands, Richard had seen Der Fuhrer move before.. it was doubtful, but he might be able to get there before she could raise that gun and fire it, it was a long rifle after all, but his skin wasnt armor enough against the .50 calibur ammunition that the gun appeared to use. He also had plenty of reason to worry about The Red Queen, more so after what Hunny*Dew said.

Richard forcibly cleared his throat to remove any obstructions, and asked Der Fuhrer, "Would you like a seat?" She shook her head no while continuing to stare into him, Richard was careful to tell his story the same, but with different words to allieviate the possibly of self-incrimination from Hunny*Dew's mind, "Alright, then its best I just start from the beginning. C9 and I left the mansion under direct orders to stay. C9 related to me her desire to see you in a grave with her standing on top wearing your 'crown'.. and as Adyndril comes first with me, I felt it necessary to protect the leader who I hope will one day recognize my nation, and perhaps send assistance to help us control our rebels, few though they are. They seem to be highly trai..."

Richard trailed off his words with a guilty smile in response to an impatient look from Der Fuhrer, "Yea.... anyways, I tried to apprehend her and she unloaded two bullets into my arms; at which point I fell down onto her knee with my forearm and broke it. C9 attempted to retrieve her gun from the ground, I got to it first, and unloaded a shot into her forehead. Fearing your retribution for the two of us leaving, and then for me killing someone suspected of plotting against you before information could be recieved; I took her body and buried it, returning here after deciding to accept my fate. I cant run forever."

He finished his story of half-truths, his eyes having never left the raptor gaze of Der Fuhrer.

Charmaine turned the water off, and let the last drops trickle down her back. Her crimson eyes subsided into her normal violet. She could fight her inner demons as long as she walked this earth, so she had eternity to do so, until the rays of light cast down upon her. She sighed softly, unable to see her reflection in the mirror, which was now clouded with steam from the shower. Her white hair fell in damp waves to her shoulder blades, and she didn’t bother to put it up. She wrapped a towel around her figure securely.

She opened the door, and saw Mathias awake and trying to stand. He was stiff, and was unable to do so. It started to show dreadfully last night. Charmaine swallowed. She tried to let her emotions be restrained, but she couldn’t help but feel a bit for him. Silently she scolded herself for forming even the slightest attachment. Her eyes were wide for only a minute, and she made her resolution. It wasn’t any day that you would be on the receiving end when in the company of a vampire.

She passed him, not looking at him for fear of showing emotion. She passed her hand over her bag, and rummaged through it. She pulled out a case, and opened it. Three syringes were empty, and only one was left full. She looked away as to not toy with her bloodlust, and took an empty syringe. She stood behind Mathias. She didn’t want him to see what she was doing. “I realize what’s happening to you,” she said softly, while pricking the needle into her arm. She pulled the plug upwards, and the vial began to fill with her deep sanguine blood. She withdrew it from her arm, and licked the stray droplets as the wound already began to scab and heal.

She walked around to his side, revealing the vile. She had no intelligible reason on why she was doing this, or rather not a reason she would like to admit. “My kind heals quite a bit quicker than yours. Blessed with regeneration of tissues when I receive injuries, except from those which coincide with sunlight of course. There is no returning after that or a sword through the heart.” She tried to smile lightly as she spoke of her own death. “I believe this will ease your pain, and regenerate what tissue is being eaten away. The effect will most definitely not be permanent, and will last you up to two days. After the second day, my blood will have circulated through your system and cells been replaced.”

She rolled up the sleeve of his arm. “Don’t worry…” she continued. “it won’t turn you unless I take from you, which I have not in mind.” She looked into his eyes reassuringly. “Even if its just for two days, I don’t want to see you in pain…if it is in my power to do something to relieve your ailments.” She rolled up his sleeve, and inserted the tip of the syringe, injecting the sustaining blood. She withdrew the needle, and covered it with her fingertips for several seconds so it would not bleed. She tossed the syringe on top of her bag, and bent down next to him, the towel still secure around her body.

Der Fuhrer looked coldly to Hunny*Dew, who simply nodded in confirmation at what he had said. "Show me the gun," she ordered as Richard handed over the gun obediantly.

She turned the gun over and over again observing it closely, releasing the clip to see that three bullets were indeed missing. "This is the gun that she had you claim. C9 must have taken it from Mathias; he is the only one here who would keep a gun such as this, or at least, the only one who procured guns like this," she said firmly as she slid the clip back in with a click. Holding the gun, feeling the weight of it, she simply said, "Remarkable weapon," she gave it a light toss, admiring everything about it.

"Richard, tell me about your feelings toward C9," she said, sliding the gun behind her back, looking into him coldly, prepared to detect any lie whatsoever.

Richard sat down heavily, betraying the pain he felt inside on his face, "THAT is a difficult question Der Fuhrer. I think that I could have loved her with time, but her selfish desires to hold your power would have harmed us all. Whats more, I fear The Red Queen and what it can do.

Der Fuhrer, I love my people. Adyndril is a nation of proud citizens, and I am one such.. not above its laws.. answerable to any; I cannot advocate assassinations, because they are the path to power of rebels, not true warriors. Adyndril comes first with me, and her actions would have harmed my people.. after all, you have technology to waste my nation; I saw that she was trying to use me, and took action of my own. Do I regret what I did? Will her face haunt me in my worst nightmares? Yes.. I do and they will, but I could only deny something from her which would take away the freedom of others to live their lives; yet... despite what I saw in her, despite the hatred, I loved her.. I think I loved her.. I dont know.."

"You regret?.." Hunny*Dew asked, breaking the eye contact between Richard and Der Fuhrer.

"Yes, I regret shooting an unarmed woman, no matter how dangerous; I would have preferred to die than do what I did. She has served her penalty for treason, I am now allowed to regret what happened, and feel sorrow for the loss."

Richard's voice became weak as he fought to hold back tears as he moved his gaze back towards Der Fuhrer, "I had to do it.. the act brought me no pleasure.. please forgive me for disobeying your orders, it wont happen again."

By the end, he had already regained control, and looked up at Der Fuhrer with proud, red-rimmed eyes.

Under normal circumstances, Mathias would just accept his fate, accept his pain and reside to suffering with it......punishment for his failure against his region. However, Charmaine's offer allowed him to stand without struggle, kneel without sniffness, and walk without fear of falling, but most importantly, it would ease his pain. His unmoving joints ached, his body tired, sore, exhausted.

At first, as he listened unmoving on the ground, he was unsure whether or not it would work, but after a moment of thought, he did not care if it would work or not.....it was a chance, it could not harm him. Afterall, she did say it would not change him and it would not be permenant. He trusted her; believed what she said. If she had not been telling the truth, at least it would be for a good reason, he had hoped. She was giving him hope now.....he wanted to embrace that.

"Will it work?" he thought almost sadly as he wanted to prepare himself for a let down rather then get his hope up.

It did not take long at all, surprising, after she had injected her own blood into his, to feel the difference. He slowly sat up in disbelief, looking at his hands, making a fist and relinquishing it, amazed at the results. He rolled onto his knees and again, slowly stood up, still expecting his back to give a wrenching sharp pain that would send him back down. But when he reached full height, his back erect, and his back did not hurt, he let out a laugh, or at least, an equivalent to that.

A smile spread across his face, as he looked to Charmaine and jumped lightly, no feeling the intense pain that would have probably instantly crippled him. He reached down and scooped Charmaine up, pulling her into an embrace.

"I don't believe this. It worked! It actually worked! Thank you Charmaine......it feels good to feel young for once. Thank you.....you're wonderful," he thought with a smile spreading across his face. It felt good to smile.....he had not done it in so long.

Der Fuhrer only looked at him colder, her voice growing more persistent by the second, "I did not want to know about your feelings toward your nation Richard. I want to know how you feel about C9. Your nation has nothing to do with your feelings towards C9 and you shall not be reprimended for any feelings you should have toward C9. I am not that cold Richard."

She grabbed her rifle and began to spin it around in her hands as if it were a toy of some sort, her eyes still remaining locked on Richard.

"First though, Hunny*Dew, we need something to drink. Bring out some brandy. Not any brandy either; the blackberry brandy. I find it most appropiate," she said, a hint of a grin playing at her lips as she continued to stare at Richard.

As soon as Hunny*Dew left the room, she continued, "Now, resume. Tell me about your feelings toward C9."

“I’m not that wonderful,” she whispered, shaking her head lightly, but a smile remained on her face. She felt a wave of dizziness come over her and a sharp pain of hunger hit and then subside within her. She masked this well. What was she doing? Giving away her blood to the one that she needed the information off of. Those hands of hers had killed a good number of people, and wrought pain on a numerous amount of innocents, though why did she find herself compelled to help him, even if that meant being at a loss against the war raging inside of her? Surprisingly, the smile across her face was genuine.

“It will only last for around two days,” she repeated softly. “I can help you for as long as you stay with me.” She paused, her bare arms wrapping around his neck. “And I daresay that I don’t wish to be without you.” It was night, and for her, it was safe to travel now. She rested her head against his shoulder, her damp hair pressing against the fabric of his shirt. She could not mention to him her bloodlust. Not now, she didn’t want to ruin all of this. The other vampire, stronger blood in relation to that of a human for feeding. Indeed the young vampire could replenish what Charmaine had used easily, but she mentioned nothing of that either.

“I thought I heard something in the shower,” she changed the subject. “I couldn’t be sure, the water was quite loud for me, every drop ricocheting off the walls. Did you hear something?”

Richard became a bit annoyed at the questioning, "Ive told you how I felt about her, what does it matter anyways? Adyndril was only important as justification for my participation in manslaughter against someone I loved. Perhaps its the justification I need to feel less like a horrible monster."

The strain of the questioning was beginning to show, "She was merely trying to use me Der Fuhrer, and her use for me would have harmed my people; I couldnt help her, and had to make a decision. I chose between love and duty, have you ever done that before?"

His stare became piercing itself, aching to find a trace of memory in her eyes as she looked upon her own past.

Richard continued to look into her eyes as he made a flat statement, "I have never conspired against the Reich, and I wish no one here any undue harm."

Mathias held her there for a moment, embracing this feeling inside of him as well as Charmaine in his arms. He smiled at her, feeling younger and more lively then before. He held the moment dearly.

"To me you are wonderful," he thought as he reached up with ease to touch her wet hair. "I don't want to leave Charmaine.....you're different......you understand."

She looked so good to him, and temptation slid into his mind with her standing there in nothing but a towel, but her question threw him off gaurd.

"In fact, I did hear something. Der Fuhrer Dyszel's sniper rifle. That sound is unmistakable......brought back some rather unpleasent memories to be honest. I don't know why it was fired inside.....unless......shit....no.....that couldn't happen. If Dante remembered and went to attack her, she might, but we need him. Dante is too important to kill and firing that gun at him to injure him is too extreme. Dante is too important to The Reich right now. Ironic how the tables turned. I'm ranting again in my head.......sorry.....I forget you can hear my thoughts," he finished, with a slight smile to convey his feelings.

“Why do people always resort to guns?” she said softly, as if to herself, and withdrew from Mathias. She grabbed a black yukata and a pair of white pants from her bag, and stepped into the bathroom. She pulled the shirt on over her head, and took her former clothes and towel from the floor, walking out and dumping them on top of her bag. There really was no time to waste. She peered out the window, noting the darkness which had all to often reassured her. She trailed her hand along Mathias’ shoulder, and opened the door to her room. “Come on.”

She took in an unneeded breath and started out the door. I won't let my feelings affect my job...she thought to herself. She couldn't help that burning urge, that should she see Dante, she would have every desire to bleed him dry for what he inflicted upon Mathias. In the end, what it would come down to was to her emotions, and her job. Do the emotions of a murderer really matter to anyone else? She grabbed Mathias' hand, reaching back and glancing at him.

Der Fuhrer stopped her rifle in mid swing and strapped it onto her back again, continuing to look at Richard coldly.

"No, I have never sacrificed anything at all for my region, more or less, my nation.....as you can tell," she said as she rolled her eyes. "You may have loved her Richard, do not deny those feelings. You act as if I am going to judge you based off of them. Not here, not now," she said simply.

Hunny*Dew arrived back with the brandy, holding four glasses by their stems. "I assumed Dante would be drinking with us mein fuhrer," she said sweetly as she opened the bottle and poured the deep dark red liquid into the glasses, handing one first to Richard, then to Der Fuhrer, and lastly Dante before helping herself, placing the bottle down and taking a seat on the stairs near Dante.

"Drink now Richard," Der Fuhrer ordered simply. "It will help calm your nerves; you are too tense. I think tonight, we shall throw a party perhaps. I think everyone here has been feeling quite down lately. Not a good attitude to step into war with."

She took her glass and spinned the liquid inside.....indeed, so many memories. She sipped from the glass, allowing the taste to settle in her mouth. They were in for quite a show soon, or so, she was only left to assume, as she turned her back on Richard toward Dante, who was still holding his neck looking somewhat confused and irritated.

Mathias turned away as she went to the bathroom, allowing her privacy he wished not to intrude upon. When she finished, she came out, running her hand along his shoulder. He felt her touch, longing for it to remain, as he watched her leave the room, his eyes taking in her image.

He followed after, bending over without pain to grab his gloves, which he quickly placed back on in fear of anyone staring at the scars that riddled his hands. He watched her from behind, her figure, her movements, her hair. She stopped and grabbed his hand as she glanced back at him.

"It came from downstairs.....I doubt they left the place we last left them," he thought almost sadly, yet afraid somehow. He was afraid, although he struggled to not show his fear. He had feelings for this woman, deep intense feelings to this stranger he had up to this moment never met before. She comforted him; she understood him.....he was afraid to let go of her.....so terribly afraid to lose that.

"Should we go?" he simply thought, still wondering if she had heard his thoughts.

Richard took a few tentative sips of the brandy after watching Der Fuhrer drink, it wouldnt do to be poisoned.. finding that it tasted better than he expected, he downed its contents, feeling it wash away his tension on the way down.

"That is amongst the finest brandy ive ever tasted! May I have another glass?"

Richard was not an experienced drinker, and would be more careful with the second glass; taking his time so as to finish it, and no more. He didnt want to be drunk around these people, the trust was as thin as a cracker. Der Fuhrer would have to force any more down his throat.

He sat and sipped his second glass, feeling his body first become warm, then slowly, miraculously uninhibited. If Richard was anything, he was in tune with his own body.. settling himself into a ritual of calm breathing from the pit of his stomach, something he had done since the age of childhood, he let himself feel the pleasure of the drink while retaining an inkling of control; he could, at this level of inebriety, pull himself back into full conciousness should he need to, yet could happily forget his conundrum, and the memories of what he lost.

I’m not sure, she replied, this time, keeping her verbal speech to a minimum as they approached. I think it best that we see what is going on before we interfere, if we need to at all. She paused slightly, as she could hear voices now. Mathias now stood slightly in front of her. There were two sitting on the stairs that she could make out. She could hear their hearts beating along with Mathias’. She shook the notion from her head. No, no…if she was going to feed it would be off the vampire. At least she could recover from it. She felt another pain strike her, but did not show it. How long could she keep up this façade? She noticed Der Fuhrer, Hunny*dew, Richard, and Dante, all of whom were drinking.

A bit confused from the shot that was fired off and seeing little chaos at this current time, she wondered on how to proceed. Easing her mind up a bit, she takes a step forward, Mathias by her side. If she were a human, her cheeks would have been flush from his presence. For once she is grateful for this curse. In seeing Dante, the man who Mathias attributes his ear to ear scar from, she feels a burning in her chest. She stifles it quickly. Who was she to care? Though her emotions were playing awful tricks on her, if that is what they were. She couldn’t help but let the thoughts continue. How easily it would be to kill him then and there, but Mathias said that he was important to the Reich, so she doubted the others would be happy. When he falls asleep, of course. The thoughts of the mind become dreams, and dreams can haunt a man.

"It is really best to do something about that bleeding," she let casually slip out of her lips as her eyes focused on Dante's neck. No better place to be wounded, in her opinion. She said nothing more about it, but turned her face away from the wound, and toward Mathias.

Though Erzsebet had been looking forward to some sleep, a gunshot cancelled that notion. Her eyes snapped open upon hearing the familiar sound. Did I dream it? she asked herself. No, she could not have dreamt it, it had definitely been there. And by the sound of it, it was a pretty high caliber weapon, too. She got out of bed and wrapped her sheet around her body. She then slung her AK over one shoulder and grabbed her axe with the other hand.

Her trip down to the foyer was quiet. She could be quiet, if she wanted. Her eyes remained open, what one did not see could cause a lot of trouble.
In the foyer, she found Dyszel, holding a massive sniper rifle, Admiral Hunny*Dew, Richard from Adyndril and Dante.

"I suppose I missed something..." Erzsebet said quietly when she entered. She felt a little embarrassed, because she probably looked quite absurd. It wasn't so much that she was hardly wearing anything, in fact, she would have felt much more comfortable in the nude. It was the fact that she was wearing a bedsheet while holding a battle axe, with an AK-103 on her back. "What exactly is going on?"

Dante held his glass shakingly in his free hand; the other still tightly holding his neck from the shard of onyx that pierced it, the blood beginning to dry on his hand. He held the glass, looking into the liquid, becoming once again transfixed by its color and movement.

As if in a trance, he did nothing but stare into the cup, his eyes unblinking, his breathing slower, and his body unflinching, despite the awkward position he was sitting in.

Der Fuhrer finished her glass as she moved toward the corner of the room, a position where she could monitor Dante unseen by him. Hunny*Dew oddly downed her glass, smiling as she felt an instant rush of warmth in her stomach. "Oh dear," she said pouring herself another glass and finishing that one rather quickly as well. She giggled like a prim and proper lady, but stood up and danced around Dante with her third glass full, dancing and humming pleasently to herself calling out for Richard. "Richard, come join me! Come dance with me!"

Mathias saw the four of them, glasses in their hands, drinking as if nothing had happened; Dante in the same position they had left him, only partially sitting this time with his hand to his neck as if he had a cramp. If it wasn't for the blood on his hand, Mathias would have sworn he was crazy.

"I did hear a gunshot......" he sworn in his mind as he looked at Der Fuhrer, the rifle still on her back. "I'm sorry Charmaine," he thought, again hoping she could hear his thoughts, "I might have just dreamed the gunshot. Sometimes my memories resurface in my sleep; they can be very lifelike. I guess I just had a dream that it was fired. I'm not sure.....Dante's bleeding though......so something happened while we were gone.

He looked down at the scene again, perplexed. "It would appear to me as if they are cutting back. I'm not sure. Do we go?"

Just as the Prussians came on the field at Waterloo and the Army of the James showed up at Appomattox Court House, President Hallacker of the Dictatorship of McClella brings his substantial army to bearing on the field flying the banners of the Erste Reich von der Fuhrer and, carying the same weapons as carried back in Napoleonic times, loads buck-n-ball shot and proceeds to march against the enemy, bayonets glimmering in the sun, ready to take on anything there is. The banners fly, the brass buttons shine and the uniforms stand crisp as the front ranks kneel and the rear ranks stand at the ready. President Hallacker, attending to his Army on the field remarks, "The enemy may go to hell as he pleases, for we shall have none of him. He is a weak willed force that will run from our forces like cavalry from the square. May God have mercy on him, for I shall have none."

Erzsebet looked to Charmaine and Mathias for help in explaining the situation. However, they, well Mathias at least, looked just as confused as she was.

"Um... should I go back to bed?" she asked. "Was there a gunshot or wasn't there?"

Der Fuhrer noticed Erzsebet come down, leaning against the wall as she observed the young woman's behavior. It would appear her gunshot had startled many people. At that thought, she let out a faint smile.

"Welcome Erzsebet," she interjected from her corner, stepping forward as she spoke, "I see you have come just in time for a little drink and party. I would order pizza, but seeing that all the nearby parlors have unfortunately been blown out of business, I will just have to order that some be made."

With that, she turned her head toward the kitchen, knowing well in advance that Mathias's guards collected there when off duty. "Hey big boys, make us a pizza," she laughed with an added element of seriousness.

Richard became bored of trying to control himself rather quickly. He became acutely aware of his rear-end resting on a hard, uncomfortable chair.. seeking to avoid this discomfort, he stood up, finding his footing barely stable.

"And strong too... ugh.. after only two glasses?"

The room was slightly crafty in its relation to his senses, it kept playing tricks on him.. or trying at least, he wouldnt let it win.

Hunny*Dew's insistance that he dance brought a quick smile to his face, it lit up his eyes as he couldnt help but spawn a big grin ear to ear.. like a child, he hopped towards the Admiral and took her hand.

"No need for that," Richard admonished with a mischevious smile before downing the rest of her half-full third glass, "a proper lady shouldnt be tipsy when there are guests about."

He gave her a wink and twirled her away from him and back clumsily, holding her in his arms and bowing with her down to the ground. At the bottom of the bow, Richard lost his footing and fell on top of Hunny*Dew laughing. He stood up and offered her a hand, embarrasment showing through his features. Worry crept through his mind as he pondered what he would do if he lost what control he had, but he had long ago decided to let himself go and have a good time; after all, what harm could just one night of drinking cause?

"You stepped on my toes!" Hunny*Dew exclaimed with glossy eyes.

"Then I think you might have to help me refine my technique, Admiral.. I hope it wont be too onerous of a deed."

OOC: wtf?

*Richard pulls out his civil war era musket and shoots McLella(n)'s Halleck(er?) in the head, hopefully ending his odd contributions, and saving him from what Der Fuhrer would bring*

Charmaine considered the option carefully. Things are settled, and the only one who seems to be injured is Dante. She again marked the site of the blood on Dante’s neck. How dreadfully she wanted to end his life, not only for his blood, but for what he had done to Mathias. She refused to let herself believe that with every second she was falling harder for him.

She looked at the other vampire, who had entered the scene, though had not spied Charmaine and Mathias above. She would soon learn of Charmaine’s intentions anyhow. The young vampire turned to Mathias, and settled her hand within his, the warmth of his flesh sending chills down her spine. We could join them if you wish, I wouldn’t’ mind. She smiled, her pale berry colored lips curving upward.

Just as the Prussians came on the field at Waterloo and the Army of the James showed up at Appomattox Court House, President Hallacker of the Dictatorship of McClella brings his substantial army to bearing on the field flying the banners of the Erste Reich von der Fuhrer and, carying the same weapons as carried back in Napoleonic times, loads buck-n-ball shot and proceeds to march against the enemy, bayonets glimmering in the sun, ready to take on anything there is. The banners fly, the brass buttons shine and the uniforms stand crisp as the front ranks kneel and the rear ranks stand at the ready. President Hallacker, attending to his Army on the field remarks, "The enemy may go to hell as he pleases, for we shall have none of him. He is a weak willed force that will run from our forces like cavalry from the square. May God have mercy on him, for I shall have none."


OOC:
Psst.....McClella, you neglected to mention who you were attacking. Rather odd to march troops toward an unspecified enemy; considering The Dictatorship is a desolate waste land, your troops would die in a day and Mahanoy, home of my enemy.....well.....it's population could kill you with expelled breath if they so choose to.

If you are serious about joining this RP, you will do best to contact my nation. Thank you for your post.

Der Fuhrer Dyszel

Erzsebet lowered her axe. She was still confused about what was going on, but apparently it was less dangerous than she had feared. Her attention then went to her appearence. She was not sure of laws in the dictatorship regarding the matter, but in her own opinion, it really would have been better not to have bothered with the sheet.

"My apologies for my... um... how I'm dressed," she said rather sheepishly. "I didn't want to delay... may I please have a drink?" After this, she shut her mouth and looked back toward Mathias and Charmaine. It appeared they did not know whether they were going to stay or go.

Hunny*Dew laughed as Richard had helped her up. "No no no! You've gone and done it all wrong! This is how!" she chirped as she spun around herself and lept into the air, misplacing her footing, as to be expected, and falling down, laughing as if it were the most amusing thing in the world.

"I fell," she giggled as she rolled over the floor, curling into the fetal position with her laughter. "Mind helping me up again kind sir?"

Richard bent over, picking her up and setting her on her feet. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and danced around him, spinning, before seizing his hands, and leaning backward while beginning to spin them both rapidly. The room spun around them as they appeared motionless, laughing.

"It's as if we are flying......in a tornado," she said in awe as she stared at the figures falling into a single blurs.

Mathias contemplated for a moment, wishing nothing more then to just remain with Charmaine, but knowning in advance that with their drunkness, things could easily get out of hand.

"I think it might be best if we join them. They can get rather rough drunk. I'm afraid to see what they will do by the morning.....my poor house......if they hadn't destroyed it enough already," he finished with an afterthought.

He hold her hand tightly, afraid to let go, afraid to lose the feeling he had. He wanted so much for all this to end so he could just be with her, but he knew, knew deep down it would not happen.....not when The Reich wanted him dead.

"Pssst... Mathias" Erzsebet called, in a sharp whisper, that she knew Mathias could hear, or at least thought. Charmaine would be able to hear her for sure, though. "Why don't you come down and have a drink? Dyszel just ordered some of your guards to make us a pizza, too."

Der Fuhrer disappeared, retrieving five more glasses, filling one for Erzsebet. She extended the glass toward her, a warm smile for once. "Come, let us forget business for a moment and just cut loose. Once we begin our attack, I am afraid nights like this will be scarce to none. Furthermore, if I recall correctly, the reason we are in Stadt was to celebrate my return. So now, let us celebrate," she said raising her glass.

"To The Reich, may it remain so. To The Dictatorship, my destroyed home," she said, a bit of a frown forming on her face at thought of her home being destroyed.

She turned around, just as two soldiers came in, carrying two large circlular pans that had two pizza pies on them. "Pizza, my friends," she said with a laugh. "We are claimed to be one of the largest pizza sectors in The Reich if I do recall," she said with a cynical humor setting in. "Enjoy everyone."

Charmaine chuckled a bit at the comment. It must seem strange to have a conversation through thoughts when others use speech, and to hear a laugh at an unheard joke or exclamation of a silent tale. With her hand entwined in his, she stepped out from him in and spun in with a smile, laughing a bit. She smiled brightly. Your heartbeat is music to me, she thought to herself, and looked up towards him. Oh if she could only tell him. She was beginning to realize that there could only be one victor; her compassion or her duty. For a moment, she forgot about why she was there, and took a breath in.

The two walked down the stairs, and Charmaine clearly saw the two drunkards dancing wildly. Dante remained on the steps, and she tried to refrain from looking at him, but could not help but glance once more at the wound. Erzsebet had an axe in her hand, and was clad in bed sheets. Charmaine took little apparent notice of it, as she would have a talk with the woman later.

She wished she could stay with him, never break this clasp of his hand. She knew that he would never love a murderer. For that is what she was, a child of darkness. She wanted to love him, but for what she has done, she was condemned to her existance alone. But, oh.., how warm his touch is.

Her kiss on the cheek left him feeling a different sort of warm, and Richard stood there with a finger on the spot Hunny*Dew kissed until she took his hands again and spun him without regard to personal safety. They achieved a velocity that a tornado would indeed be proud of before Richard felt it necessary to slow down; doing so meant an imminent collapse, and they fell down together again.

"Why Hunny*Dew! I should think it rather forward of you to keep falling on me like this! Decency would be better served with more stable footing m'dear," Richard said with mock indignancy. He then stuck his tongue out.. it becoming a point of intense interest for a moment before he shook the drink out of his vision.

As he did so, he found Hunny*Dew staring into his eyes; he did the same, his inhibitions nearly drawing his lips towards hers.. but he just looked into her eyes instead, everyone else in the room having been forgotten.

Mathias wanted so much to touch her hair, to feel the strands fall between his fingers again, but he knew now that he was in the presence of people who had hated him, people who had looked upon him with coldness.

It was first noted by his guards, who despite their loyalty to him, lowered their eyes from him at the mere sight of him coming down the stairs. He thought he saw a glare from Richard, but it could not be determined.

He hung his head low, despite how happy he was to be with Charmaine.....if only all of this could go away.

"Charmaine......I......nevermind......" he ended his thought quickly, pushing it to the back of his mind. He just wanted to hold her again, feel something, and now with his tired exhaustion gone, he was inhibited.

Erzsebet took the glass readily, though not too fast. She didn't want to be rude. She said the Callisdrunian word for "Cheers" as she clinked glasses with the others before drinking. It was good stuff, though it had little effect on her at first. Callisdrunians possessed unusually high alcohol tolerance.

Erzsebet smiled warmly and approvingly at Mathias and Charmaine. Vampire/human relationships were common in Callisdrun, though a few human parents slightly disapproved of their sons going out with vampire women. Erzsebet, of course, highly approved, since the love of her life was a human.

Hunny*Dew leaned over him, smiling pleasently as she moved closer for a kiss, but was haulted with an abrupt backtracking of liquid, which happened to of course, land itself all over Richard who was beneath her no less then a foot away.

She giggled and apologized, standing up but stumbling backward. "I made quite the mess. We should go to aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa bathrooom!" she said with more enthuiasm then needed.

Charmaine commanded respect in her nation, not from the people in it, but the leaders. Her name was known well through the government and at a minimum with the citizens. While she had killed many of them, they knew her as Victoria…not Charmaine. She watched the guards lower their heads, and she knew why. She didn’t believe he should be treated like this, but did not say a word about it. She didn’t care. She was a proud woman, and whomever she chose to be in her company would be the only one that concerned her.

Lift your head, she whispered softly as they reached the bottom of the stairs. If you can’t meet anyone else’s gaze, look at me.. She had done far worse than Mathias in terms of a ‘crime’, however that was unknown, and remained hidden. The cold blooded killer, however, was getting deeply attached to the one at her arm. Who could ever think such an angelic face would have witnessed and caused so much chaos. She thought carefully. Her job would have to wait, because her emotions were at a high, and would not be denied. She didn’t know how to tell him, or even say a word. In a day and a night he had become her protection, and her warmth.

If you fall, I’ll catch. If you love, I’ll love, and so it goes my dear. Don’t be scared, you’ll be safe. This I swear, if you’ll only love me. the thought reverberated throughout her mind, yet she couldn’t bring herself to say anything to him. Don’t be stupid Charmaine… she repeated softly in her head, but she could not drop the notion, that she was falling in love with this stranger. If you’ll only love me back….

"Wow, thats a lot of throw-up," Richard said in a moment of rare lucidity as he examined his shirt, pants.. and somehow, even footwear, "I think I agree, we need to clean up a bit."

Under his voice, so that only Hunny*Dew could hear, Richard said, "that kiss can come later," he took his finger off of her lips hazily and put it back like a child who is unsure if someone quiet would stay so, "after we wash out our mouths of course.. shall we go?"

The words, 'shall we go' were amplified above his earlier whisper; but no one in the room seemed to notice, their antics had obviously made the more responsible drinkers weary.

"Oops," he said with a crooked grin, taking his finger from Hunny*Dew's lips and covering his, "shhhhhh."

Richard took Hunny*Dew out of the room with his other, dripping hand. He mumbled as they wound their way down featureless hallways, "Bathroom.. I cant seem to remember where one is! Bathroom.. bathroom.. does this mean we get to take a bath to clean up? Oh.. I certainly hope so, ladies and gentlemen are never found with.... vomit on their clothing, or their person.. ewww."

Mathias listened to her, her words not a cold demand, but more a comfort, a strength. He straightened his back, lifting his head in the process, and held his composure.....the Mathias Bortniansky that The Reich had known when he was the first to rush to The Depths of Hell to fight off advancing enemies, waiting against odds to protect the base.....the Mathias Bortniansky that came back from the hands of Dante alive and not programmed to kill Der Fuhrer. In that moment, he became the Mathias that demanded respect.

He looked to Charmaine though, unwilling to part eyes with her's. They were compelling and he found he could not pull away from them....and her hair.....it was beyond words to him.

"Charmaine......will you dance with me?" he asked, as he held out a hand for her to take to begin. Afraid that she would say no, but the desire to dance beyond his control, he smiled at her, forgetting for a moment that no one else was in this room but him and her with her eyes and hair and angelic grace. He needed not worry about music, for Hunny*Dew and Richard did quite a great job at dancing without it. The music would be in their heads he assumed; that was, if she would accept his dance.

Hunny*Dew giggled as she stumbled forward with Richard, forgetting where the bathrooms were inside this massive complex. She opened a door for her and Richard and stumbled through, into an empty bedroom. They managed to stumble their way into a bathroom, where Hunny*Dew walked toward the bath, turning on the hot water and the cold just slightly to create what she felt was adequately warm. She stumbled forward, head first into the large tub hanging over laughing.

"Waters warm!" she chirped excitedly, "Now time to undress."

She fumbled with the zipper on her dress, unable to undue it, but with Richard's help and the zipper now undone, she slid out of the dress, taking off her undergarments and hoping into the only half filled bath.

"Hurry hurry!" she called to him as she giggled and splashed in the tub like a child.

King Crisco sits at his dining room table unwraping salt water taffy one after another, washing them down like pills with his bourbon. "Butler please bring me something stronger", he mummbles. He picks up the paper and sees the headline "ON-GOING WAR" and sighs. *the butler walks over and asks "Is it time?"*. King Crisco nods, "call him now, I've avoided this far too long." he replies.

A man gets out of his limo and walks over to the group of people, as they look at him, unknowing who he is, he ignores and continues walking towards Der Fuhrer. "Am I inturupting your fun?", he says sarcasticly, "Let me introduce myself, I'm Aston Stolichnaya, King Crisco sent me to offer my help." He clears his throat and whispers, "I'm ready to die" as he shows the explosives hidden under his coat and winks, "Your command is my doing.". *closes his coat and lights a cigar*

Her eyes sparkled, and she took his hand. Not being of drunken mind and possessing an aptitude for dance, Charmaine took the hand of a man whom with no one she would rather be. Her hair fell in light waves down her back, having dried a bit since taking a shower. “We have no music,” she said musingly, and bent up to him. Unexpectantly, she kissed him squarely on the lips, not drawing one other thought within her mind than the feel of his lips and the warmth of his breath. She pulled back from him, not bothering with the others in the room. As the drunken couple had already forgotten the others in the room and probably their names, Charmaine was more ‘graceful’ at forgetting the rest.

As she pulled back from him, her hand still clasped by his, she began to sing. Oh! How terribly melodic her voice was. It had a hue of color in it, serenading softly and cleanly. It was a voice stolen from an angel, and while her song was soft, meant for Mathias and herself, it filled her mind as well. “You cast a perfect shadow on the paper, fade away with sunlight, in your eyes my reflection entrances me.” She was a performer, and her voice could have done all her work for her. That entrancing melody, that siren’s song. She had the voice that made grown men jump overboard in squadrons, even though they may see beached skulls. “You are my only hope, and make me stay awake another day. I wish you bear with me stay near me, when the autumn leaves have fallen.”

Besides a flash of extreme prudence, Richard was having the time of his life. After the complications that they had getting Hunny*Dew's clothing off, Richard was unsurprised to find that he had many of the same problems.

The Admiral was frolicking around in the tub naked, splashing more water out than was getting in, her form drawing his eyes like a moth to light. She really was a beautiful woman, nothing like C9 used to be to his eyes, but beautiful nonetheless.

Richard couldnt get his shirt off, so he tore at it until it ripped off, slipping in a puddle of water and finding himself staring up at stars, then some ceilings; well, maybe just one.

"Hunny*Dew dear, im having trouble getting my pants undone," he said while fumbling around with his belt, "no bath for me with pants, come give me some hellllp pleeeease."

She got out of the tub and caught her balance before she joined him on the floor; sliding towards him in a barely controlled maneuvour lacking grace. Pulling himself up, Richard found himself mere centimeters away from her face, looking down into her eyes. A warm, erotic feeling snaked through his willing mind, whispering its venomous intent into every crevice of his consciousness.

They stood there for what felt like an eternity, breathing each other's air; Richard's hands still holding Hunny*Dew's sides for balance. He leaned in and gave her a wet kiss.

They parted with a look of mild disgust and Richard said, "you should have washed your mouth out first!"

He stuck his tongue out again and chased her into the bathtub, pants still on, she screamed in mock fright to escape his grasp. Hunny*Dew stopped and looked into his eyes with her hands clumsily working at his belt and said with a mischevious smile of her own, "We need to get you out of those."

Mathias held onto her gently, yet at the same time, firmly, unwilling to let go. He had never felt this way about someone before. He had once, or so he thought he did, but that memory was gone from him, erased like nations that Dante had attacked. His past was nothing more anymore then a mere figment of what was or what should have been; the only records of it was locked inside his head, practically forgotten even by himself.

She pulled in closer and kissed him; her kiss, her cold lips pressed against his warm lips, and odd mixture that left him almost begging for another. The coldness of her skin did not frighten him, he longed to touch it, despite how much others would recommend not to. When her lips parted his and she pulled back, his heart beat began to race, the coldness of her lips touching his very soul.

As she pulled back from him, she began to sing, still clasping his hand. Her voice sifted into him, touching his very soul and essence. Her kiss, still filled his mind. He longed to kiss her at that moment, to just kiss her, but her voice drowned his thoughts and only pulled him into her. The lyrics he seemed not to hear, although the words hung in his head, filling him with a feeling unlike any other he had experienced.

"Charmaine......I love you....." his thought broke free, unsure if he had thought it and if she had heard it. "I don't ever want to have to leave you...." he barely thought as her words filled his head her voice pulling him into seemingly another world.

He did not know if they had been dancing, her voice and his mind were the only two essences in creation at that very moment. He had hoped they were dancing, their bodies gliding along the floor as they had in his dream, but this moment, was far more then dancing to him.....

Hastily removing his glove again, he reached up, his eyes not really seeing, his mind just feeling for the voice, and touched her face, he looked down, pulling her inward, feeling coldness as he pressed his lips against hers, the world around him melting into that voice.

Hunny*Dew giggled as they finally succeeded after about ten minutes and a few dozen splashes later to remove Richard's pants. She giggled as she pulled him inward, laying down in the water so that Richard almost laid on top of her. She gave him a kiss before quickly rolling over and dunking him beneath the water, sitting atop of him, laughing like a child who thought something was incrediably funny.

With Richard's splashes and her fighting to keep him down, you would think that Hunny*Dew was in an underwater rodeo.....RIDE THAT COWBOY!

She giggled he finally pushed her off and came up for a gasping breath, where Hunny*Dew started at him with a mock innocence, acting as if she had done nothing wrong at all.

"Where's that bipper!" she called out excitedly as her hand fished underwater stopped by Richard who feared his manhood's protection.

Within the medical facility, Alex slowly drifted awake, an oddly heavy feeling within his chest. He struggled to sit, and felt the warming hands of his sister help him up. His vision was blurrly, he could not make out her figure, but he knew her touch, and it was the only welcoming feeling he believed he would receive in this cold facility sitting upon that cold table.

His clothing had be cut loose of him before they took him in for surgery, and he scarcly remembered how he got in there, except for a sharp pain in his chest and an odd tingling.

Destiny helped him up, grabbing a robe that was hung nearby, and helped him slide into it. He did not say a word, and kept his eyes shut, as his bare feet touched the cold floor. She guided him out of the facility gently, toward a great deal of sound that seemed to be coming from the distance and the smell of pizza that drifted down the empty corridor. No one was within sight, and if was not for her weak brother shaking beside her, she would worry.

They followed the sound, reaching the foyer with the sounds of clinking glasses and lots of laughter as it seemed that most of the people within the mansion had collected here within the past hour or so.

Alex still had not opened his eyes, clutching to his sister, his guide. He felt weak from his surgery, but knew he would recover soon.

"Oh dear!" Destiny cried out at the sight of Dante sitting there still staring at his glass as if it might do an astonishing trick at any moment. She looked around, everyone merry, no one seeming to notice him sitting there, as she began to wonder if he was a figment of her imagination.

She closed her eyes tightly, opening them, wishing he would be gone, but disappointed to find he was not. Feeling Alex growing heavier as he lost ability to stand on his own, she issued him into a seat and quickly looked around for someone who looked sober....someone who looked like they knew what might be going on here.

"What do you want with my.. bipper?" Richard asked as Hunny*Dew fished around underwater in an attempt to grab him. She gave a delighted squeal when she finally did.

"Alright, you have your prize, what now? Hmm? You cannot keep it for yourself.. but I think it likes you." Richard said, barely able to contain his grin.

Instead of waiting for an answer, Richard decided to take the upper hand and re-flip himself on top while she was pondering her predickament. Nothing could kill his mood at this point and he gave her forehead a little kiss. Finding that spot suitable, he went off in search of other places to leave an imprint of his lips.

Leaving one at the base of her neck was enough to elevate the seriousness of the position they were in, and he became aware of the fact that he was lying naked himself on a naked woman in a tub, perhaps having convieniently forgotten that in the proceedings. She arched her back to draw herself closer to him, her forbearance evaporating in the wake of lust.

Richard was fully aroused, he picked Hunny*Dew up in his arms and kissed her within his embrace; completely forgetting the world and his problems.

---

They awoke some hours later to the glaring light of a midday sun in the bed outside the bathroom. They had been at each other for most of the rest of the night before: kissing, laughing, exploring, and finally, release; one that came after the alcohol had worn off, after a night gloriously without inhibition. Richard smiled warmly as he looked into her eyes, but couldnt help feeling a pang of regret for what he had just done; it didnt feel right.

"We should get back to the party," he said, planting a kiss on her achingly soft lips before getting up, still as naked as the day he was born.

Charmaine was taken by surprise. You what? she wanted to say, not really believing that she had heard him correctly. Time seemed to freeze, and she was stuck in this moment, having two options. She blinked several times, and he bent down to kiss her. Der Fuhrer, Dante, and Erzsebet vanishing into the scenery around them. She placed a hand on the back of his neck. If you fall, I’ll catch. If you love, I’ll love and so it goes my dear. Don’t’ be scared, you’ll be safe. This I swear, if you’ll only love me. She kissed him passionately. In that kiss, she relinquished her job and surrendered to her greater emotions.

She would sustain him, as long as she was able to, until a permanent solution could be found. She would not loose him that quickly. He was the only person who had every gotten close to Charmaine. He was the only person who actually cared. She didn’t know if they should stay there or leave, and frankly, she didn’t care of her public display of affection. Stay with me… she continued as the silent conversation passed between the two. I never want this to end.

Mathias relished this moment, the younger feeling, the passion between him and Charmaine, the trust, the vulnerability, the love. He did not care about anything else at this moment; Genocide was no where to be summoned within his mind....an unexistant problem.

As they parted from their kiss, Mathias looked into her eyes, transfixed as they pulled him. He smiled and took her hands.

"Charmaine.....I would be more then honored if you took a walk with me. I haven't been able to do that in so long."

Richard and Hunny*Dew wound their way back to the party room, Richard giving Hunny*Dew smiles of affection as he held her hand while they walked back. He was having mixed feelings about what had happened, but he also felt calmer, more relaxed; as if he had a runners high, just barely skimming the clouds.

He opened the door to the room and found Der Fuhrer, Dante, Mathias, Charmaine, and Erszebet still within its confines. He looked at each in turn, no one had yet paid heed to their arrival; Richard's face burned when he remembered his conduct earlier. There was no way that he still carried respect amongst these people.

'Well, it WAS strong brandy..'

"Der Fuhrer," Richard said with a bow, his head pounding with the pain of the hangover, "we have returned. I must apologize for our hasty departure.. it was unseemly."

He blushed as he said this, feeling the erotic stain of what he had done. Richard's eyes scanned the room again and fell upon Dante, sitting near the door; he looked ashen, colder than before.. something was wrong.

He glanced wide-eyed at Dante's lapel, 'that pin! I would recognize that mark anywhere!'

A gasp escaped his throat as he thought of the implications that came with the mark; he swallowed hard as he wondered about how Dante could be connected with those assassins. The memory of what he did to Dante surged in his blood, and Richard eyes locked onto that pin, its design etched in his memory long before he saw it on the man in front of him wearing it; each of his features in shock, he took a step towards the man in the chair.

Richard then remembered his instructions, he remembered that he knew nothing about those assassins. He gave himself a mental slap and tore his eyes from the pin; but the damage was done, and Dante gave him a wild look of hatred when he looked up.. Dante knew something.

Charmaine remembered the cool steel-colored eyes looking through strands of short black hair. His skin was pale. He was tall and strong built with an air of arrogance, about him. He had a wedding ring on his hand which had long since caught her eye, for she had often wondered who such a man was married to. Persisting in questioning him got her no where. Through ways of her own, she found out who the man had married, if a man is what you would call him. She soon found out, shortly after her background research began on him, that his name was Michael Vaughn, the draconic knight from Underaloz. His wife; no other than Ravelyn Shentavo. She had thought the two to be dead but kept her mouth shut. Vaughn had been training her in combat for a while now as a professor at the academy.

Frustrated at her incurable bloodlust, he lashed out at her with his words. “You can’t control it, Charmaine. You have the ability to within you, but you love the taste, don’t you? Don’t you?” the girl shook her head in response, for who was she to disagree. “Your mind is filled with fairytales. Names, don’t mean anything hear the lady sing. All laws you disobey. How many people have you murdered? You need to handle the dreams of the day.” He turned from her in disgust at the sanguine liquid upon her lips. “my wife…is a vampire, and she never has the urges you do. She controls it and has not killed one single soul from feeding. Why can’t you control your urges for once? I will not train you to be a killer.”

“It’s only occasionally,” Charmaine chimed in, seemingly indifferent from the subject. “Sorry if it is too much for you. I only take my share of what is set before me.”

“You’ve hurt them many times, why apologize?” he scoffed. “Oh, be my valentine, play along with an angel with a silver tongue; play with a stranger. Do you enjoy manipulating people so?” She nodded. “Why the hell have you come to me then? Get out of my sight. I don’t want to see your face again. You think you are right in a way, but that is something I hear all the time.” He turned back to her, his eyes raging with a swirl of emotions. “I cannot understand you; to me you live in a world of chaos. To you it’s all a game, isn’t it?” His eyes turned completely black. “I can outsmart you. I am wise, and can defeat you any way I like. You are not all powerful, Charmaine, and you can’t play a god by these killing sprees of yours.”

“Because it’s what I need to survive. I was created this way, and not by my choice mind you. I have to live on human blood, should I be scolded if it is in my nature to kill them. Screams are just a bonus.”


Charmaine blinked, trying to collect her thoughts as the memory had come as quickly as it faded, and her hand had clasped Mathias’ rather harshly. She released it uneasily, and tensed up. She pulled away from him, and could not turn to look at him as she spoke. “Mathias…I…” she choked a bit. She had changed, hadn’t she? But the past would always remain. Trying to summon up the courage to tell him, she wondered how she would put it. She placed her hand on one of the sculptured and breathed in. She turned and exhaled at the same time, her eyes flushing a brilliant crimson. “583 men, 341 women, 32 of my own kind, 21 children, several cats, and two dogs.” She said simply, knowing that she would never miscount, and would never forget.

She bit her lower lip, not wanting to confess to the one person whom hadn’t run off from her. The one person who loved her, if he could love her after her words. “I care for you dearly, Mathias. But the woman you see before you is a murderer, hardly worthy of anyone’s affection.” She turned from him, not wishing to see his expression darken.

Mathias would have left out a slight single laugh, if he could, and if it would not have sounded rather pompous. "An entire nation....." he thought, as he sat down on the damp grass, bending with ease, pleased that his body could now do such a thing. "Plagues your mind, doesn't it? Yeah.....same here. It was my sole decision to unleash that stupid chemical. Hahaha....I thought I evacuated everyone; least did I think they would refuse to leave the nation. And to think.....I created it.....XGN T2. It was only a prototype, but it still created mass devastation, sucks your life out from within....kind of like what's going on with me, except much faster and more painful and body wrenching. Destroys your lungs and eats away your internal organs until you die. I've created such devastation.....these torn apart human hands have created chemical beasts that killed thousands.......I......killed them. I wasn't there to witness their deaths, but it was still my hands that they died by, and to believe they trusted me.....a man like me..."

He looked down at his feet, feeling the failure resurface.

"Charmaine.....I've never killed animals, but I assure you, that won't stop me from loving you. You're different, maybe it's your past.....maybe that's why we can relate so much. We've hurt many.....I was forced to kill and by choice. I choose to pull the trigger on so many....I regret killing though. And now, I'm the hunted one. I'll be dead after this war with Genocide Charmaine. I hate to say that, but I've been sentenced to death. I....uh....I....I....I raped a little girl. There is no one else to blame and the truth doesn't matter to anyone anymore; I'm already condemned.......I.....you....I'm not the kind of guy you can love Charmaine. I'm sorry......don't hate me though.....you make me feel normal....."

Charmaine let out an airy sigh, and her eyes flushed back to their normal color. She considered each word carefully, and stepped a bit towards him. “Well you see, “We are both hunted,” she began softly, her velvety voice slipping through the night sky. “Inquisitors and hunters have quite the bounty on my head. I am afraid I was not well behaved before.” She passed a hand through her hair, smoothing out the tangled strands. She drew her arms around him, holding him as closely as possible. She shook her head, and then took on a defiant glare. “I will not let you die. Those who threaten you, I would kill in a heartbeat. I nearly took a shot at Dante, after learning what he had done to you. That open wound on his neck could be easily reopened.”

“If you should leave this world,” Charmaine continued. “I daresay those responsible will live every day as they would in hell. Should a nation condemn you, I would take them down one by one.” She tilted her head in observation. “I know that you aren’t the rapist sort, and can only assume what other variables were involved. If I believed your nature to be otherwise, I wouldn’t be as close as I am to you at this moment.” She gave him a smile. “I’m afraid that I can’t let you die, because your death would lead to the death of my heart, a pain of which I could not bare.” Killing was in her nature, and she would never be fully freed of her impulses.

Looking up to him, the moonlight cascading over his features. His dark hair contrasted with her white, and her pale skin glowed with a youthful radiance. “I just keep living this night as the next will never come.” She ran her hands over his arms and around his shoulders. No more could she deny herself the lust for blood than her desires for carnal pleasure. She nuzzled her head into his chest, ignoring the feral urge. They were both killers, both hunted, and both condemned to one form of death or the other.

As the memories resurfaced, Dante fought back the emotions and feelings welling inside of him; the rage, the hatred, the anger. His jaw clenched tightly as he stared into the now still deepened red liquid within his glass, his hand mocking the same resemblence of his jaw, shattering it, the shards of glass cutting in his hand, as his eyes burned with fury.

And within that moment, he caught a sudden change on the face of Richard. Richard was looking at him, an expression difficult to place, but mostly one of disbelief and perhaps loathen curiousity. However, Richard was not staring at Dante's face, rather his chest....something on his uniform. He looked down to see the silver lapel reflect the light and instantly knew what Richard was thinking, rage surmounting within him.

Before he could gain control of his impulses, he had already lunged at Richard, his left hand wrapping tightly around Richard's neck, digging his fingers into the vital blood vessels within. The fire of the rage burned in his eyes, as he wanted to destroy the look that Richard had just given him.

Nearby, Der Fuhrer monitored the events unfolded without intervention as she sipped her brandy here and there, her eyes always remaining on someone. She witnessed the event that happened so quickly; Dante had broken his glass and quickly attacked Richard, as if unprovoked.....it would have to be the memories, she was left to assume. Quickly moving forward to intervene, she dropped her glass, meaning to set it on a table she missed.

The glass shattered, warning Dante that Der Fuhrer was heading their way. Unwilling to remove his hand from Richard's neck, he fished for the concealed gun Mathias had left him....his instincts of destruction taking over, one handly unclicking the safety and spinning it to fit into his hand, where he instantly pulled the trigger merely fifteen feet from Der Fuhrer, who was moving with the speed of a cheetah at this point.

The shot fired silenced the room instantly; Der Fuhrer realizing there would be no way she could dodge this bullet without inflicting a serious injury. Stopping, she braced herself for impact, when a loud girl's scream issued, "MOMMY!" yelled The Red Queen.

It happened so fast, that unless someone was watching it directly, the would not know what had happened. The Red Queen quickly apparated in between Dante and Der Fuhrer, closer to Der Fuhrer then Dante, with her arms outstretched. She pulled them, as if curling into the fetal position, and seemed to shoot outward, becoming a blinding red light that exploded outward.....a supernova, if one could say.

The bullet passed through the light, instantly disingrating, the explosion of The Red Queen spreading the vastness of the foyer, an intense heat way that pummelled anyone in the distance; including Dante who released Richard as he fell forward from the blast and Der Fuhrer, who hit hard on back laying sprawled out.

As the light and heat dissappated, Der Fuhrer lay there still unmoving, the sound of what almost sounded like a generator dying throughout the structure of the foyer. Everyone within the proximity laid on the ground or against something that supported their bodies from the blast. Silence ensued as it took everyone a moment to process what had just happened.

Dante knew...

He lunged for Richard with fury. Richard blinked in surprise as big hands locked around his windpipe and squeezed. He felt blood pool in his head as he became lightheaded, stars forming in his vision; the world blacking out. There was no need to fight back, by the time Richard had realized he was being choked after the shock of seeing Dante's pin, his arms began feeling weak; and why fight back? He was a betrayer, a traitor, and lustful; all things he had been raised to avoid, but he was turning into the people who made up his worst nightmares.

The supernova shook the earth, Richard was dimly aware of a bright light; for a moment, he thought he was dead. Blackness consumed him.

He awoke moments later, having passed out for a short time; he sat up and his head spun with dizziness. Richard groggily looked at Dante lying on the ground nearby and thought, 'what the fuck happened?'

With a hand to his head, Richard stood up and swayed in place, thinking distinctly that he would never come back to this mansion again.. it was a place of walking nightmares, and living accidents. He bent over and emptied the contents of his stomach on the ground, facing away from Dante.

"You guys throw exciting parties, if you'll excuse me.." Richard tried to walk to the bathroom, but couldnt walk; so he sat down dejectedly and looked around the room in a daze to see if anyone was injured.

Mathias looked at her confused.....a plaguing curiousity entering his mind, "Inquisitors? I'm not sure of what that is. Charmaine....are you in trouble? National trouble? Or is this something else?"

He felt her hands touch his arms and shoulders, his eyes searching into those compelling eyes. He reached up, touching her hair again, the softness sifting through his fingers. He loved her so much; yet, he barely knew he anything about her. Was it possible? He was not sure, but he knew he could not deny his feelings, as intense as they were.

“I’ve been in trouble for a while, though not with the authoritarians of our nation. Inquisitors set on genocide of my kind, and I’ve given them good reason to come after me anyway. I hadn’t been a good girl a year ago, which is when I was with a demon named Hesione. We nearly tore entire cities apart. I did it willingly. Ever since our little spree there have been people after the both of us. Hesione took up a position teaching, as it were, at one of the academies, and I fell safe within the confines of Ravelyn’s council. She won’t kill me, but has put my skills to use for quite a while. She won’t deal with the inquisitors. They’ve caught her once, put her through a trial which no vampire has ever survived before. The damn seraphic lived. She is possibly one of the most complex people you could ever meet. I don’t understand her at all. It doesn’t matter. I deal with them as they come, though there have been some close calls. There have been more as of late, but considering that I am in another nation at the moment, I shouldn’t worry here.”

Charmaine tilted her head and rested it against Mathias’ chest, pulling him closer. “In my nation I am treated very well, and in being a board member I have access to the finest of things. I sing, mostly, and take care of the assignments given to me. Even while I’m in my own nations, inquisitors make it through easily. It’s not like they are different in appearance from normal people. They just specialize in killing me, or so that’s what I’ve been told.” She chuckled a bit. “So far they haven’t done such a good job.”

Wrapping his left arm around Charmaine, Mathias used his right hand to rest upon her head, feeling the softness of her hair. Her hair intriqued him; it was a beauty he could not express.....its color, its softness, its vitality. As she rested her head on him, he felt a sudden wave of fright grow within him.

"Charmaine.....are you sure you're safe? I mean....are you sure they will not harm you? Charmaine.....I don't want them to kill you or hurt you....I...love you...."

Dante pushed himself off of the floor, grabbing the gun that he had dropped on his fall down, not taking notice to the steady growing pool of blood from his head and fresh opened neck wound. The explosion had confused him, but he knew one thing, he needed to get away.....and really fast.

He stumbled past everyone who was still laying down, some unconscious, some just unable to get up at the moment. His head hurt, his vision blurry, as he held the gun in his right hand, feeling with his left toward the massive doors of the foyer.

Opening them, he felt a rush of cold air brush past him. It contrasted completely with the intense heat wave that had just struck him moments ago, filling the room with an odd chill. His body froze in shock for a moment, but soon enough, regaining itself.

Stumbling out of the mansion, he wandered aimlessly, just trying to get away from Der Fuhrer's presence and Richard's eyes on his lapel, when he stumbled into Mathias and Charmaine, grabbing Charmaine's shoulder to steady himself.

"Who are you?" he asked quickly, unable to see from the blood running down his head after splitting open his forhead on the cold hard onyx floor. He felt her shoulder, taking notice it was a woman. He stepped back, trying to remain steady as he wavered back and forth, his left hand grabbing his head.

"Where am I? Dyszel? No.....I.....Autumn? I....sorry....she's....I....how? She's mine? But I? She's mine? I....why didn't you tell me? She's my daugther....I'm a horrible father....Autumn.....I....she's our baby girl......"

He stumbled back, almost like a drunkard, but his confusion was simply a combination of recent events. He coughed, feeling his lungs straining for breath from after the fall, "Help me Autumn. She's going to kill me," he said, taking his hand from his head and grabbing her shoulder again, smearing his blood all over her figure.

Mathias cringed, unsure of what was happened, but a deep fear settling within. That gun in his hands could be fired at any moment.....and he was not prepared to take a bullet unless it was for Charmaine.

"Charmaine......" he thought, "He doesn't know who she is. He's wounded pretty bad. What if he? No, he thinks she is Autumn, but she is, I don't know what happened to her. Just please don't hurt her Dante....don't take away the only thing left in my life....."

Charmaine’s eyes widened at the blood. She was unsure of what to do. She watched the crimson liquid, as if in slow motion, trickled down from Dante’s neck. Her eyes flushed a deep red, and her fangs extended almost instantly, showing over a vague smile. I can’t…I can’t… she repeated to herself repeatedly. She closed her eyes, not wishing to see the blood which was smeared on her shoulder. Don’t open your eyes, don’t open your eyes. You can’t open your eyes. The smell was intoxicating, and the only sound which resonated through her mind was the beating of his heart. As much as she tried not to, she opened her eyes, and took on a feral demeanor. Her muscles tensed, and she eyed Dante carefully.

“Don’t’ worry Mathias,” she said roughly, her voice taking on a vicious undertone. “I’m a strong girl, I think the one that has to worry are the inquisitors and this striking man before me.” She scowled at Dante. “Mathias? You did say that this was the man that sliced you ear to ear, did you not?” She grinned wildly, showing her fangs to the ever confused Dante. She gripped the hand on her shoulder with her left hand with a lock that could have shattered. If only the sun would rise! But that would not be for hours, and Charmaine was dreadfully hungry. “I guarantee,” she continued, taking a step toward him. She released her grip, and placed one hand on his chest. With a sharp motion she pushed him back a few feet, and stared at her prey. “You were a lot safer inside.”

Charmaine stepped forward and pulled Dante’s hair to turn his head to one side, exposing the open wound. Seeming to take no regard of the gun in his hand, she plunged her fangs into the wound, and began to drink that rich sanguine liquid she so craved.

With a grunt, Richard stood up and cracked his neck loudly; he had every intention of following Dante, even if it was for a short distance to see which direction he was running off to. Richard was wary of the gun that he spotted Dante pick up, and intended to keep his distance.

Leaving the mansion's artificial warmth to a deathlike cold that permeated the still dark air outside; Richard took in a deep breath, it was going to be a beautiful day once the sun peaked.

He felt bad for Dante, there was something going on in that man's life which had him at an extreme upheaval. Turning a corner, Richard spotted the man and rose his hand in greeting, having decided to talk and find out what he knew; figuring that death by Dante's hands was no worse than by the Freedom Fighters', it in fact would likely be far more humane here and now than later with those cold assassins.

Something was wrong, Dante wasnt moving. In the faded light of the moon, he spotted a pale woman with her lips tenderly on his neck; Dante looked to be busy.. but with whom?

The woman's eyes met his, and Richard saw something other than tenderness within; he saw pure, unsaturated blood lust. This woman was drinking the blood from Dante's neck.. Richard had never heard of such a thing in his life, it was a horrific sight, amplified by the sheer hunger in the woman's eyes. The hair on the back of his neck stood up on end, and night became day as his pupils expanded to answer the flash of fear he felt from within.

Richard spotted Mathias standing nearby, then he recognized the woman and broke into a run towards the three, "CHARMAINE!!"

Dante nearly fell backward, his hand hurting from something which had seized it. He tried to look through his blood coated eyes, but saw nothing, only felt a force push him backward and grab his hair, turning his head. He felt a piercing in his neck and then nothing more, just dizziness settle and a slight feeling of lightness as the darkness seemed to grow darker and his body fainter.

He groaned as he tried weakly to push away from whatever had him in its grasp. "Autumn? Is that you? I.....can't....see you.... Autumn....take..your..knife..out of..my..neck......." he spoke barely above a whisper. "You're not Autumn, are you? Clara....." he said with a hint of helplessness through his weakened whisper, feeling the humiliation as he saw her face among the four who had betrayed him.

His knees grew weaker and he fought the urge to collapse, grasping Charmaine's shoulders to keep his balance. He began to feel cold, unsure of why he was feeling so weak and cold.

He started to slip into unconsciousness, when he heard someone yell a name, he could not distinguish what it was. Fighting the urge he was feeling, he tried to fight back with what little energy he had left, using his gun to strike Clara on the back of the head, falling forward weakly in the process.

Meantime, Mathias stood by, shocked by the sudden change of events. He had hoped Dante would have just meandered on his way, while wondering why Dante was as confused and injured as he had been.

He watched as Charmaine plunged her fangs into the disoriented Dante, draining his blood to feed her thirst, Dante's skin becoming oddly pale as she continued to drink. He stood there confused for a moment, unsure of what to do; at one moment, he felt relieved that Charmaine had fed off of him, for he would not be able to hurt either of them, but at the same time, he felt sympathy Dante as he seemingly put up no fight whatsoever.

Dante grew weaker, he could tell this, as Mathias began to move forward to stop Charmaine. "Please don't Charmaine. He's.....I think he's dying....Der Fuhrer needs him....we need him. He.....The Reich....He's Genocide's father. He can stop her," his mind begged as he gently placed a hand on her shoulder to ease her away from him....that was until Dante had struck her with his gun in attempts to break free, before he fell forward weakly onto her.

He heard Richard yell Charmaine's name, his eyes piercing through the darkness to see him moving in a run toward them. "Damn it," he cursed as he reached inside his uniform jacket to retrieve the gun he had kept, aiming it at Richard as he moved toward them. He was not sure why Richard had come, but their past experience was not a pleasant one, and he could not take any chances this time.

Charmaine withdrew from Dante, and she held his shoulders. After the knock on the head, which was diminished do to his lack of strength and low amount of blood, Charmaine quickly pushed him off of her, and hit him in the face, sending him to the ground. He was not dead, but he was very badly wounded. Charmaine ran her tongue around her lips, savoring the taste. She laughed a bit, if Mathias hadn’t have said a word, she would have killed him. She wiped the stray blood off of her face with the back of her hand, and noted Richard hurtling towards them, screaming her name.

Mathias had his gun drawn, and Charmaine slipped behind him, as her crimson eyes did not fade. She wrapped one arm around his waist. She nuzzled her head into his back. No, not him… she thought to herself. I can’t harm him…I can’t… She looked up at Mathias, and pulled away from him, not wishing to hurt the one person she loved and loved her in return. Still, the feral appearance stayed with her, and she eyed Richard. She smiled lightly, taunting him. She could tell that he and Mathias did not have a good past due to the reaction. She hardly noticed Dante on the ground when she stepped over him, about a yard away from Mathias and three from Richard.

“You know, I find it dreadfully rude when you interrupt me when I’m having a drink,” her voice had twisted around the curves of his neck, as if marking him should he step any closer.

Richard stared at Charmaine in a new light, he had a million questions to ask; but he couldnt get his mouth to form words. His staring must have bothered her, because she retracted her... fangs... and went to stand by Mathias.

"What the fuck? Mathias, are you involved with this witchcraftery?" Richard finally noticed the gun pointed at him, "get that thing out of my face, all I did was interrupt your.... feeding; I wouldnt pull a gun on you if you caught me eating dinner, its no capital offence."

Richard gave Mathias a belittling look of scorn and disregarded his weapon, Charmaine didnt like it and turned her red-eyed glare on him. Richard swallowed heavily and tried to form a disarming smile, but it ended up looking sickly and awkward instead.

He barked a laugh, "it seems as if im stuck between a gun and a sharp place," he said with a glance to Charmaine's mouth, which was still smeared with a bit of fresh blood, "Dante is injured, im going to carry him back inside. Do you have supplies of blood in the mansion Mathias? Dante will need a transfusion."

Richard waited a moment for an answer, having forgotten that Mathias couldnt speak; he frowned and said, "I suppose I can just ask Der Fuhrer."

He went to pick up Dante and couldnt help but wonder aloud, "I wonder what kind of creature drinks another's blood for nourishment," he risked a long look into Charmaine's eyes, his curious nature overwhelming his better sense, "I need to find out more before I leave with Dante. This is.. facinating; are you human?"

Mathias appeared to be angered by his callous question; but Charmaine looked used to questions, used to being different. Richard felt a measure of sympathy for this strange woman; but not as much as he felt for her victim laying on the ground, still bleeding, though not much. The wounds were coagulating at an unnatural rate, leaving twin dime-sized bruises on Dante's neck; it was a horrifying sight.

Vampires are some of the most prideful beings in the entire world. They pride themselves in their sophistication and indulgences. The Shentavo family was one of the most prideful families, as they had Ravelyn as the head. Charmaine was both a vampire and a Shentavo, which let her level bubble over the top of the cup. Charmaine was indeed a part of the Shentavo family, though not in the sense that she would like to be. Vaughn would never allow it. Richard observed Dante, keeping a close watch on the two. "I wonder what kind of creature drinks another's blood for nourishment," he risked a long look into Charmaine's eyes, his curious nature overwhelming his better sense; "I need to find out more before I leave with Dante. This is…fascinating; are you human?"

She eyed Richard sharply, and looked upon him with disdain. An expression of anger and scorn slipped across her beautiful face. “What type of creature ?” she repeated, clearly unamused. She stepped toward Richard quickly, her agility getting the best of him. She was fast. She pulled Dante’s gun from his fingers before Richard could get to it, and pointed it to his head. “You aren’t taking him anywhere,” she continued, and hit the gun on the back of Richard’s head, just hard enough to make a good sized open welt. She pushed him back with a swift kick to the stomach, sending him staggering back a few feet. “Fascinating, do you find me some type of specimen?” And there it was. The innate Shentavo fear of being studied. Ever since Ravelyn was created, no Shentavo had welcomed a hospital or laboratory in their entirety of existence.

Her cool eyes met his with encrypted rage at his choice of words. “You need to find out more about me,” her pupils shifted, and she raked her fingernails across his face. “Well then let me tell you.” Her posture straightened. She craned her neck, her alabastor fangs clearly in his view. She paused, seeming to turn her attention to something else. The gun, still in her hand, pointed directly toward his abdomen. “Your heart is beating so quickly. You are very fortunate that I have already had my fill, and taking from you would prove to be utterly lackadaisical and unsatisfying. Don’t get me wrong, if Dante had not done anything to me, then I would not have bitten him. He, however, is the reason that I can’t hear Mathias whisper to me before I fall asleep.” She paused momentarily, and walked back to Dante, observing the wounds. “He can’t die from my bite unless I took all of it. He should be fine if you let him rest.” She tossed the gun to Richard, and stood between Mathias and him directly. She cared little for Richard, but she hated Mathias seeing her like this.

Her eyes returned to their normal violet hue, and her fangs retracted. “Get out of my sight,” she threw back at Richard, still facing Mathias. Creature…not even noteworthy of having right mind. A tear had fallen down her cheek. Why did you have to see me like that… she thought to herself, and looked up at Mathias.

Mathias wanted so much to intervene, to stand between them, but as the anger at the sight of Richard consummed him, he sought a gratification at seeing Richard abused as such. However, that ended quickly as he watched and listen intently to the unfolding scene about him.

He lowered his gun, placing it back inside its holster while fixing his uniform to hide the presence of such a weapon. Charmaine almost brutalized Richard; Richard's words clearly having a deep impact on her.....unless....this was the way she normally was when she fed.

He moved toward her, slowly at first, unsure of what to do. His step hesitant, he looked around, somehow feeling the odd presence of someone else in the vacinity. A chill moved up his spine, the deathly silence of The Dictatorship consumming the moment. He could not move; he could not bring himself to move. Instead, he stood there, constantly looking over his shoulder, his eyes moving rapidly around, trying to see if someone was around them.

His glance brushed over Charmaine again, as she began to cry, for reasons he could not tell. He moved toward her, taking her in his arms, glaring at Richard on the ground despite the fear that was surmounting within him. He was afraid, deeply afraid, something seemed to be stalking him, creeping up on him, and he could not fight back that feeling that was starting to control him.

He gently pressed her head against his chest, holding her there as if she were his life. "Oh Charmaine......what has happened?" was all that he could think at that very moment. He had never loved before; never loved like this before, and because of that, he was unsure of how he should express the feelings he had within.

He pulled away from her slighly, using his hand to raise her head, as he brought his lips to her's, despite the fact that she had just drank the blood of the man who had destroyed his life.

"I love you....." he had hoped it was all that was needed at this moment.

Richard stood up calmly and holstered Dante's weapon at his rear, not wanting to interrupt Charmaine and Mathias; but finding time of the essence in getting Dante back into the mansion.

"That was highly unnecessary Charmaine; on both of our accounts. Forgive my ignorance," he said with a grimace, rubbing the back of his head; the wound wasnt great, but he had a growing headache, "if my curiosity scares you that much, ill find out more about your kind elsewhere. If you are no creature, then you are like no other human ive seen; I have not grown used to being expected to know things like these, Adyndril is remote.. none of these are reasons, just excuses; and I apologize."

He then spoke dryly to Mathias, "thanks for your help with Dante, you were vital to his survival."

Without saying another word, Richard picked up Dante and walked with him back to the mansion, carrying him fireman's style. As he neared the doors, he remembered the details of what he saw happen to Dante, he remembered the fangs.. the pale skin.. the striking, barely human features.

'Erszebet.. damn it,' he thought, immediately wondering how he could possibly approach another one of these.. things.. and just begin asking questions. He opened the door and strode inside, again with Dante slung over his shoulders, again with a wounded man in his care.

'Im going to have to stop seeking trouble one of these days,' he thought with a rueful grin as he plodded off towards the infirmary, his sardonic cackle was enough to make him believe he had begun to grow a bit insane, he shoved off the thought, 'but its too much fun to stop on this day.'

Charmaine looked at the ground in contemplation until Mathias had pulled her forward to his arms. She did not cry, in sobs, but rather a silent pain which Richard had inflicted, though he did not know it. She felt an awkward feeling as if she were being watched, and let her eyes wander around the terrain. Satisfied that she didn’t see or hear anything besides Mathias’ heart, and the heavy panting of Richard, she closed her eyes, allowing herself to be enveloped in his arms, her back still to Richard.

She kissed him softly; surprised that he would do such after she had nearly killed Dante with her vicious bite. It wasn’t always vicious. She could charm and sooth so that the pain would turn into a rather pleasurably experience. When she did not put in the effort, her bite was like razor wire, which Dante had earlier felt driving into his neck.

Charmaine’s deep amethyst colored eyed delved in to his, and it was enough. Charmaine was the only one who could hear Mathias. Mathias was the only one that would actually listen to Charmaine.

The blade moved swiftly through her abdomen, cutting upward towards her heart. The young girl coughed, letting up quite a bit of blood. Her pale skin and white hair contrasted with her deep crimson blood. The hand holding it was sunkissed, and belonged to a girl of similar resemblance. They were about the same age, though the one holding the knife’s features were alive with color, while the other was strikingly pale. She was none other than Charmaine, and the other; Sarah. Sarah’s face was smeared with tears as she jammed the short jaded dagger deeper into her sister, and watched her fall to the ground.

She paced around the room many times, and stared at her sister, devoid of life. “You sleep so soundly, those fresh tears across your face mean nothing to me. You dreadful girl! The love you never received I gave it to you. You really don’t deserve it, but now there is nothing you can do. You’ve became a animal that can’t even walk in sunlight. You vile creature! I can't bare to even look at you anymore. So sleep in your only memory of me, dear sister.” She kissed Charmaine’s forehead, watching the blood seep from Charmaine’s wound. She could find no tears. She didn’t feel enough for her to even cry for her own sister’s suffering and death. She turned, and gazed in the mirror, straightening her hair and wiping the blood off of her hands with a napkin.

She suddenly felt a sharp stabbing pain through her back, and turned. Her sister was sitting straight up, wound closing quickly. Sarah watched the flesh rebuild itself, and eyed Charmaine’s outstretched hand. She had thrown Sarah’s dagger, to cause the death of its master. Charmaine stood, and looked at Sarah without gratitude for the ‘love’ she had given. Charmaine placed a hand on either side of her darling sister’s face, and snapped her neck.

The image flashed in her mind. She wondered if Mathias had caught a glimpse. He was so close to her, and she was focused on hearing him should he speak, and hear her should she do the same. She couldn't help that a connection was forming between them. She squeezed him a bit tighter.

Erzsebet came to hearing voices shouting outside. She got up groggily, noting that the sheet she had been covered in as makeshift clothing had been blown clear of her. Oh well she thought. She got her axe and AK, before heading towards the door, just in case. The naked vampiress soon headed out into the chill (or, actually, for her it was quite warm) night air.

Outside, she found Charmaine and Mathias tightly locked in an embrace. She put her hands to her sides, though still holding both gun and axe. Her eyes said she was thinking criticism, though they also seemed to hold sympathy, and something else, though it was hard to say what that extra emotion was in those circles of green fire. She regarded Dante, motionless on the ground, for a second before looking back up to Charmaine and Mathias with curiosity.

"So, Charmaine," she started, quietly, her voice hard, the voice of a soldier, but not judging, though, as usual, it carried that usual hissing sound that Callisdrunian moroii voices had in addition to their strange native accent. "Did poor Dante do something in particular to become your meal, or do you just have as little self-control as I do at times?" The last part of the question carried a bit more than a hint of sympathy and regret, which indicated that Erzsebet had experienced unfortunate lapses in judgement herself.

She was surely a very strange sight. The black vine tattoo snaking down her left arm almost seemed to ripple in the moonlight, with the relaxing and re-gripping of her fingers that seemed to show anxiaty. Knowing that Charmaine already knew what she was, Erzsebet made no effort to hide her fangs while she talked, and the Sorvik daggers (OOC: her teeth) gleamed in the dim light when she opened her mouth. She often wished for the retractable fangs that foreign vampires had, she had never heard of a Callisdrunian moroii with them; most had very large, permenantly fixed-in-place fangs that could be quite cumbersome at times. The Sorvik clan, of which she was a part, had not been the ones to give a name to their specific fang shape, she suspected it had been humans who had come up with the rather silly name. Foreign vampires often found both the size of Moroii fangs and the fact that they were not retractable somewhat odd.

Awaiting Charmaine's answer, Erzsebet simply looked at the woman expectantly. She tried to maintain an impersonal face, but anyone who looked deep enough into those eyes could tell that she was not all that hard at heart.

Charmaine closed her eyes, and Mathias felt her nails dig into the back of his jacket. She recognized the voice before she turned around, and was not in the mood for treating Erzsebet to an answer. She grit her teeth, and her enveloping glare cast upon the other vampire as she turned around, Mathias still standing behind her, one hand on her waist. Her haughty expression clearly stated that she was severely unamused. “Don’t speak of what is none of your business,” she hissed back, mimicking the others tone.

“You couldn’t bother to just keep your mouth shut, turn away, and leave me in peace? Could you?” She stepped forward a bit. “Dante has made a thousand death wishes in his life time, and proceeds to make more every day. There is more than enough reason to harm that man, and mine are my own.” Charmaine had just wished several minutes with Mathias, but she would be provided nothing it would seem. Charmaine scoffed at the daggers, for her, you’d fight without a weapon, for they were used by ones who could not inflict the same damage with their own hands. She looked at Erzsebet’s garb.

“And could you find nothing else to wear,” Charmaine jeered, “Get some damn clothes on.” Her expression darkened and her eyes narrowed at the woman. She eyed her fangs, and extended her own with a mocking sneer.

As Charmaine held him, a glimpse, almost like a flashback into his life, although it was not his life, flashed within his mind. It was two young women and the death of Charmaine, or.....at least a woman who looked remarkably like Charmaine. Her murderer a face he could have sworn he saw before. The thought filled his mind, as he wondered how to ask Charmaine about what it was he had just seen, but Erzsebet had abruptly come out, carrying with her an air, a mein, that made Mathias tense and flinch.

Mathias stood behind Charmaine, as she stepped toward Erzsebet, watching silently from behind her; his eyes piercing into Erzsebet, as he watched the young woman's stance. "She has not had the experience we have had Charmaine," his mind sought her's, hoping she could hear him at this moment, "Do not waste your time with her."

He moved a step closer to Charmaine and embraced her gently from behind her, resting his head lightly on her shoulder. "I wish we could just forget them all sometimes......" he thought, not really sure if he had conveyed his thoughts to Charmaine.

Dante remained to lay unconscious on the ground, his opened wounds continuing to drip thick dark red blood into the damp dew kissed grass his face lay in. Within his mind, no visions, no dreams, no memories resurfaced.....it was a dark blackness he was in; one which he had been in before, a long comatose state where everyone suspected that he had died within the confines of the now condemned and isolated Whitecastle base.....his body, to have become nothing but a decomposing piles of bones that were to remain within some testing labortatory torture room.

His breath had been shortened, his body fighting to perserve life, chilling in the coldness of the crisp air that was quickly becoming freezing outside the mansion. His skin became a deathly pale, almost such as Charmaine's, as he lay unmoving, the dampness of the grass freezing to his face and hair; his blood becoming harder and seemingly thicker as it was exposed to the coldness that was settling on them quickly.

Meantime, Der Fuhrer Dyszel, slowly pulled herself off of the floor; her back aching from the intensity which she had hit the ground and the rifle which had dug into her back. She placed a hand to her head, feeling dizzy, and slightly confused.

Had The Red Queen just imploded?

Der Fuhrer looked at the structure of the room; everything had seemingly been in shape, except perhaps the items that had been blown out of the way when The Red Queen "supernovaed." She instantly knew that The Red Queen was out of commission, an irritated aggrivation growing within her.

Looking around, she took notice that Erzsebet, Richard, and Dante were all gone. She took notice that everyone was starting to regain their senses and were beginning to stand up from the blast. Assuming a coldness that was one of which had only been seen by The Reich Freedom Fighters, she spoke, "Recollect, clean the room, and find me Richard, Erzsebet, and Dante. Dante is not to be harmed in any way. I mean that. You hurt him, I shall kill you," she said as she began to walk away, her once slightly barely noticable limp now more prevalent and noticable.

She saw blood drops running across the floor, coming from the puddle which she remembered Richard and Dante standing. Feelings leaving her, she followed the blood drops toward the doors of the foyer, seeing blood smeared about the handle. He had left the mansion.

She stepped outside, closing the door behind her, sealing the light within off from the outside world, allowing the world to fall into darkness. In the distance, she immediately saw the back of Erzsebet, who she recognized clearly from past encounters. The paleness of a woman stood in the arms of another man.....her heart seeming to drop into a pit in her stomach. Mathias.....

She took a step forward, but quickly stopped. For the first time in her life, she retreated. She stood back against the door, her back hurting as it pressed itself against the door, pushing the rifle once again into her back rather hard. "No.....," she thought, as she tried to open the door without removing her eyes from him. Finding it impossible, she closed her eyes, was she crying?, and quickly slid away from the door, using her stealth combat skills to run silently, low to the ground, avoiding any moonlight which may have been present to the edge of the grounds, where she disappeared.

Charmaine exhaled, Mathias was her restriction once again. He was her control. She relaxed her muscles and looked toward Mathias, and though he had said nothing aloud, she replied “I suppose you are right.” She closed her eyes. She needed to get away from them. Could they not have one moment of peace? Surely Erzsebet would have so many more questions, but they really weren’t worth the effort to answer. She hadn’t seen the event happen. How Dante ever do such a thing to Mathias? It made her blood boil and her skin hot with anger at the thought. Then let’s forget them, she whispered within the confines of her mind. When this is all over, I’ll take you to my nation. We won’t be disturbed, and you can meet what family I have.

She could have sword she heard someone else around them, but listened once more. Hearing nothing, she dismissed it as the wind, and looked at Mathias. We should go inside…well you can stay if you wish, but its an hour until sunrise, and I really have to get back to my room.

Mathias slowly moved away from Charmaine, acknowledging the need to move indoors. He breathed out heavily, his breath contrasting to the coldness outside. As the began to move toward the mansion, they passed Dante; Mathias unaware that Dante was still even out there.

They stopped outside of the mansion, Mathias extending his arm to open the door; wondering when it had closed; for the last he could remember, the door was left open by the interferences that had bothered them. He had never been disturbed more then he had that night; it irritated him. All he wanted was his moment with Charmaine, and it would seem as if no one would let him have it.

Looking behind him, taking notice no one, not even Erzsebet standing there, he opened the door, allowing Charmaine to enter first, as Reich custom of respect. He smiled at her, a longing smile, almost a sad smile, that seemed to convey that he just wanted to be with her.

"She's beautiful.....wonderful....and this will all end up being nothing but a dream. I'll wake up tomorrow, who knows where, unable to move again, and she will be gone."

He longed to reach out, as she walked inside, and touch her hair once more; just embrace her and forget about everything, but he restrained himself, fighting against his being for that moment. He was sure he had never felt like this before for anyone. How could have he forgotten it if he had? He did not want to forget Charmaine though, that much was certain, while he himself entered the mansion and closed the door behind him.

Charmaine passed through the door before Mathias, her deep lavender eyes casting over the mansion. It reminded her much of the Shentavo mansion, without the chaos. She suppressed the urge to turn to Mathias, and fall into his arm, and tell him everything that had happened. She had never had nightmares, considering she never slept at night. She had sought to charm him from the start, in order to get information. Nothing happened as she expected, and what had started out as a simple façade had escalated to stirring emotions inside Charmaine that could not be suppressed. She had fallen in love with him. Because of this, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him she had deceived him before.

They walked about the halls, and toward her room. She opened the door, stood in the doorway and turned around. “If…if you want to stay I wouldn’t mind the company, but I understand if there is other things you need to do,” she looked up at him, and lifted her arms up around the back of his neck.

Mathias debated for a moment, battling his feelings against his respect for privacy, as he stared into Charmaine's eyes, being pulled in despite the internal battle inside his mind.

"Yes Charmaine.....I'd love to be in your company tonight. Are you sure you won't be bothered though?" he thought as he wrapped his arms around her waste, pulling her in and leaning down for a kiss, but stopping inches from her lips, unsure if he should continue.

"I love you Charmaine," he thought as he stared into her eyes, their pull arousing in him feelings he believed to have been dead.

I wouldn’t mind your company in the slightest bit, she giggled internally, and perhaps was the first time she had laughed in fun. So many things were pulling at her. She pulled her back up from the floor where she had left it, setting it on the bed. She pulled out a light blue tank top, cropped just above the naval. She pulled her shirt over her head, her back turned from Mathias. She was prideful, and would have changed in front of him without second thought, ironically enough; she did have some sense of etiquette and behavior, as well as morals. It was then that he would notice the beautiful tattoo on her right shoulder of a rose and leaves on either side.


She slipped on the blue tank top, which was more comfortable than what she had previously donned. In being in such a hurry, she hadn’t bothered to pick her clothing out carefully, for she had come out of the shower when the gunshot was fired. She pulled on a pair of grey shorts, and then took off her skirt. On her upper thigh was a small pouch, though it wasn’t really determined on what it contained. She slipped off her shoes, and rose to her feat, the feathery carpet massaging her toes. She caught a glance at Mathias, her soft eyes carefully studying him. She fought against her deep carnal impulses, and settled her eyes coolly upon the bag once again. She picked it up, and set it on the floor.


She turned back to Mathias, and opened her mouth for a moment, as if she was going to speak, but she choked back, and could not form the words. Scolding herself inwardly for not being able to tell him, she let the thought pass and stepped toward him, looking up and placing her hand on the back of his head to tilt his head downward to kiss her. Her kiss was passionate and strong.

Mathias watched as Charmaine changed, despite his usual mannerism of respecting other's privacy. He noticed the tattoos on her back and smiled to himself; she was beautiful in more ways then he could have imagined. When she finished dressing, she moved toward him and kissed him passionately, stealing his breath in the process.

As she pulled away, Mathias moved into the room, closing the door behind him. He leaned in, kissing her in return with the same passion, feeling his heart begin to race within his chest. Heat was beginning to rise off of him, as he felt his body begin to sweat from the rapid beating of his heart and the heavy fabric that consisted of his uniform. He looked into her eyes, the passion rising within his own, as he fought the temptation rising within him.

He kissed her again, feeling the coolness of her lips against the warmth of his.....a feeling that he could not put into words either. "Charmaine.....you're beautiful....."

Richard shut the door behind him and sighed loudly, eyeing the bed nearby with a look of hunger and thinking briefly to the bed he had shared only hours ago. He would find Hunny*Dew to make sure she had reassurances that she might need before his nap; but first came Erszebet, he wanted to talk to her and figure some things out. There were more pressing matters at hand, but this was something which was just too big for him to ignore.

Richard left the room and went towards the main entrance, he found her walking back inside, "Erszebet, its wonderful to see you again! I guess there wasnt conversation outside to stimulate you sufficiently; those two can be rather rude, that certainly isnt the kind of company you need."

He hoped that he had read her reactions properly when first he saw Erszebet and Charmaine in the same room together; these two were not made to be friendly towards each other.

Richard raised his soon to be healed arm and pointed in the general direction of the confrence room where he had spoken with Hunny*Dew before, then offered Erszebet his arm, "I need to know.. certain things about Charmaine; would you be so kind as to indulge me with some of your time?"

She did not respond to him directly, but toyed with his lower lip. The sunrise was beginning, and every shade was drawn in the room. She ran her slender hands over his chest and shoulders. Clearly as much restraint as Mathias was attempting was how much Charmaine had lost. She stopped herself, and controlled herself once more. She opened her eyes and sighed softly. She drew her arms around him once more. They were alone, though the young vampire wondered how long that would last.

She took his hand, and led him to the bed, both lying down next to each other. Her head resting on the right side of his chest as her left hand came over to settle just below it. Once this is over, I can bring you to Summerset. It is the most beautiful city in the entire empire, and also the capital. I work as an alchemist simply for the fun of it, even though it isn’t necessary. I wish you could see how beautiful the sunrises are there. I still remember them. Hues of gold flecked with autumn cast out upon the land and waters, breaking through the violet and azure hues of the sky. It was wonderful. She seemed lost for a while, but then found herself content in entwining her left hand with his. There was so much she wanted to show him, to tell him, but she couldn’t find the words.

Come with me there, when I am finished from my stay here.

Mathias felt the coolness of her fingers interlock with his. He brought his free hand around and rested it on side, lightly brushing her cold skin with his fingers. "I would love to come with you to Summerset; if I am permitted past the confines of this region. Charmaine....will you love me? I haven't been loved since I can remember. I haven't even loved someone since I can remember either. You know, when Dante left me to die, a woman saved me. I will never forget those mystic green eyes; she tended my wounds rather kindly. It was the nicest I was treated as a captive and I couldn't even thank her. I did a lot of thinking then.....I guess, I began to dream of settling down, having children. I have always wanted to be a father Charmaine, but.....well....I am Mathias Bortniansky, leading war expert and commander of the military. My nation wouldn't allow me to settle down, but when they realized I couldn't talk, I was shipped out to foreign nations. And to think.....'I just only ever wanted to be a father...to hold that little baby and hear the word "Daddy"...' I just wanted a family; to live in peace and happiness with my family......."

He ran his fingers up her back and began to lightly play with her hair, as visions of a child danced in his head. He held back the tears of the lost dream as he played with Charmaine's hair......for at this moment, this was a dream he had never fathomed, and he embraced it with his all.

If Charmaine had been sipping a glass of wine, she would have choked. The rogue had never played the thought of having children, nor settling down. She was like the wind, she came and went, and when a storm was brewing she was fierce as ever, but she never truly stayed in one place. She was fickle, and occasionally reckless. She took needless risks. How apt would she be at being a mother? She feared that they would eventually end up as she is. She said nothing at first, and simply felt him caressing her pale strands of long hair.

She then toyed with the thought a bit, and felt a bit of pressure wrenching at her heart. “The one person I loved stabbed me,” she said blatantly, closing her eyes. “After that, I closed myself to deep emotions.” She paused for a moment, her words caught within her throat. “I do love you Mathias. I’m not quite sure how, but in these past two days we’ve spent together, I’ve fallen in love with you.” She let her mind take up in his fantasy. If she should bare a child, would it turn out like Quissera Shentavo? Or like Sarah Vaughn? Would she be able to even at all?

“There is not a problem in getting you out of the nation, take no worry to that. I have friends in high places, and in a heartbeat, so to speak, you would be escorted by myself, and Ravelyn herself should the need call for it,” she thought about the devil of an angel, and smiled softly. Her muscles relaxed.

Mathias continued to play with Charmaine's hair, gently twisting and sifting through the soft strands that fell between and around his fingers, as he fathomed the possible future with a woman he loved outside of his home nation, outside of the place he had erected himself, outside of the chaos that had prevaled.

He wanted to kiss her again, but found that impossible due to their current positions. However, at the same time, he did not want to move; for once he felt comfortable and relaxed. He closed his eyes and rested his head back, taking in the moment entirely. His love for Charmaine was great; how it had happened, he did not know, but he had fallen deeply in love with her in the short amount of time they had known. For a woman who removed his hand in rather digust upon their first meeting, they had a rather quick turn around.

Mathias wanted to live this moment to its fullest. He knew that shortly, the strength and revival that Charmaine had presented him with would wear off, and his body would no longer move, and his breath would no longer come with such ease. He took a deep breath in, allowing his lungs to fill without pain, holding the breath before releasing it, feeling the natural way his body used to behave. He felt a pang of loss in that moment; feeling the loss that he was no longer the youthful and strong Mathias he had once been; no longer the invincible Mathias he had felt like many years ago.

Charmaine sat up, and bent her head to kiss his lips softly. All her training had failed her, for her emotions were no longer concealed, and the veil of her eyes had been lifted for Mathias to explore the deep lavender rings. “There could be a permanent solution, Mathias, though I don’t have the ability here to research it. In my nation I do quite a bit of alchemy in my home. I might be able to come up with something that would reverse this process entirely.” She lifted herself from the bed, and opened one of the small pouches which were strapped to her thigh. She set something on the dresser, though from Mathias’ position, he could not tell what.

She removed the syringe from her bag, and withdrew another vial of her own blood from her arm. She would not need to feed, for it was a small amount into comparison to what she had taken from Dante. She was lucky that he stumbled upon her when she did. I hate seeing you in pain, Mathias. she said silently, and walked over to him. She rolled up his sleeve, and injected the scarlet blood into his bloodstream. She rolled his sleeve back down. “Believe it or not, before I was turned I was shadowing a blood specialist at a hospital. It’s what I had always wanted to do, but never really got a chance to. It wouldn’t matter now though. I pray that there are two options for a permanent solution. I know there is one, but it is not in my personal favor. Perhaps we will find another back home.”

She set the syringe on the table, and climbed back onto the bed. She slipped her figure coolly over his, inadvertently taking advantage of his immobile state before it changed. Her lips brushed against his cheek.

Mathias felt the renewel again, the fresh rush of energy filling his body. He lifted his head to Charmaine's and kissed her passionately, bringing his arms around back, feeling his heart beginning to beat faster again.

He looked into her eyes, the lavender abyss pulling him in. It was that moment that he decided he would stop at nothing to leave with her. He wanted nothing more then to be with Charmaine; if she had loved him despite it all, he knew that he would never find a better person, and what better then loving her in return.

He ran his hands along her back, his fingers gently brushing the surface of her skin, playing at the tips of hairs. His lips met her's again as his eyes closed, Charmaine's eyes still remaining in his vision still.

"I love her so much........don't fuck this up Mathias.....you can't afford to lose her......" he thought to himself as he felt her cold skin beneath his finger tips and on his lips.

Charmaine nuzzled his head to the side, and her lips trailed across his neck. She felt a bit of warmth rush through her and settle in her chest. For the first time, her breath was hot. She lingered on his ear and settled back to his lips. Such impulses she had not quite felt so strongly before, and she had given up the thought and thrived on the feeling of his caresses. Logic was useless in this battle. “When can we leave?” she whispered softly. She locked both his arms down with her hands. “Though I know there are probably some things that need to be done before then.” She chuckled a bit and took up a wry smile. “However, as the sun is rising above our heads as we speak, there is little I can do until night. Until then, we have all day.”

Mathias let out a long breath, his heart beat still increasing. He felt youthful again and struggled to fight his hormones as they surged through. "Damn it......she's beautiful......" he thought as she ran her lips down his neck, his body not freezing as if paralyzed for once when someone had touched his neck; rather, he responded by trying to fight his hormones, feeling the passion rising inside him.

She locked his arms down, where he responded in a way that rather embarrassed him, the blood rushing to multiple places, as his face turned red, rather ashamed that he could not control his body.

"Sorry Charmaine......really......I.....damn.....sorry....." he thought rapidly unsure if she had noticed, but certain she would now know. He cursed him at that moment, feeling as if he had no control over his own body, but throwing that aside as he looked into her lavender eyes, kissing her despite his embarrassment.

Der Fuhrer pressed her back against the cold fence that lined the perimeter of the mansion complex. She slid down the rough stone like surface with difficulty, removing her rifle in the process, and rested her head on her knees. She did not understand why she had felt the need to run, to take flight, but she had followed her intuition. Now though, she did not feel like running anymore.

She wiped moisture from her eyes, was she crying?, and mustered the courage to stand once again, wondering why her eyes were tearing up. It was probably due to the cold air and the speed at which she ran down the perimeter within the darkness. The cold air hitting her eyes at a rapid speed no doubt would have brought these tears to form. She stretched her arms behind her head, reaching down for her rifle, and continuing to walk toward the massive gateway, her limp much more pronounced, and her back in pain.

Sliding out of the gates, she did not take notice to Dante who was still lying on the frost covered grass, his blood hardened from the cold, his skin a paleness which matched the color skin of many whom he had buried. He laid unconscious, his life weak and wavering in the freezing air of the night, now breaking into day within The Dictatorship.

Der Fuhrer stopped outside of the gates, the sun rising, spreading its golden rays across the demolished Stadt that lay beneath her in ruins. She looked at once familiar structures to find they had become nothing more then a large pile of twisted metal and rubble. She felt an emptiness rise within her as she stared at the destruction, counting dead bodies among the rubble before her. Her face showed no emotion, as her eyes counted 78 visible bodies from where she stood; children and buried bodies excluded. She stepped forward slowly, her limp evident…..she was making her way toward her last city…..her destroyed home.

She walked down what was left of the main street, the sun streaking across the sky, the chill air still settling from an unknown, the wind whipping with ferocity, as if warning her to turn back and not continue forward while it moaned and growled around her, pushing her back…..the only sound besides her footsteps stepping over broken glass and rubble. She stepped over dead soldiers, old friends, warriors, wives, mothers and fathers, and their children as she continued on her path, stopping now and then to brush the dirt off the face of child or soldier.

As she reached the edge of Stadt, she watched the ocean come to shore, the waves splashing against the sands, carrying remnants of Callisdrun’s destroyed ships and occasionally a dead body to within the waves to shore. She stared out into the dark midnight blue waves, her eyes searching the ocean for anything, but seeing nothing…..perhaps that is what had happened this morning, she was seeing nothing.

She leaned over a silver railing that lined the street, separating the city from the ocean, much like a child would, as the wind rushed past her filling her empty soul with the salty air. She removed the clip that held her hair tightly in place, allowing the wind to catch it and dance with it in the early morning hours. One would ask if they had watched her that morning if she was free; if she had felt free when she spread her arms like a bird floating in the air, feeling the wind rush past her body; standing defiant of its fierce ominous warning.

She closed her eyes, blocking the sunlight out as she traveled in her mind, her thoughts unknown as the black figure with a rather large weapon on its back stood atop the railing, balancing itself against the furious wind set on throwing her from the railing and sending her back toward the mansion.

And that had happened…..she did fall….or so she thought..... She felt the pain in the back of her neck, like a bee sting. What she thought was just a nervous spasm ended up quickly putting her to sleep, as she fell back from the railing with a rush of wind, into the arms of a large man, with black shades, and a tattoo of a flying eagle carrying a Molotov cocktail, wearing an all black suit. She would not see her captures face, or even feel him as he hoisted her onto his shoulder and carried her away before the sun rose over Stadt, bathing the city in sunlight that would bake the dead bodies if it were not for the chill air blowing in from the ocean.

Charmaine laughed softly, clearly more focused on his ear than his apologies. With his words, her grip on his wrists tightened, becoming more aggressive to restrict his movement even further. She was rather strong for someone her size. She hovered possessively over him, trailing back to his neck. Her carnal desires had made their way to the forefront of her mind, should she had ever been thinking about it to begin with. Her cheeks were lightly flush with a deep rose that had crept its way along the pallid complexion.

Don't speak... she said softly to him, kissing him once more. Just feel.

Don't speak... Just feel.

Mathias smiled, "You won't hear a word from me.....," he played in his mind as he tried to fight against Charmaine's strong grip, surprised a woman of her stature could restrain a man such as himself.

He focused on her kisses, feeling the passion, feeling a desire he had not experienced before. Lifting his head slightly, struggling against Charmaine, he kissed her neck, his lips lightly brushing the surface. He no longer had a care in the world; his world was this moment....Charmaine and himself.

Der Fuhrer awoke, a bright light shining down upon her, the room hot and empty, as she lay naked strapped to a table. She struggled to break free from the restraints, but found as she moved, a material cut into her skin; the more she struggled the deeper the cuts became.

She resigned to lying immobile upon the hot metal table beneath her. Closing her eyes, she refused to look into the bright light above her, trying her hardest to disregard the intense heat within the room. She was trained to withstand hot temperatures and cold temperatures, but this, the heated room was unnaturally hot, and her body despite her training could not withstand the unnatural.

She heard a man's voice, but refused to open her eyes to see where it has issued from, for she knew the bright lights were designed to slowly blind her. She was no stranger to torture tactics; however, she had a feeling that this time it would take more then just bodily endurance and will power. Her capture knew what he was doing; she admitted that much and she suspected she would need something more, something on the lines of a miracle, to save her this time.

"Der Fuhrer Dyszel. We finally meet. You've finally woken."

It was at that moment, at the sound of that voice, a man whose only purpose in life was obviously based around other’s pain and suffering, that she began to contemplate her own mortality. She could tell from his voice alone that he received satisfaction from other’s screams. She would not give him that pleasure; she would not succumb to his game. And she knew that this man would kill her because of her incompliance. People who screamed lived……but she would not play his game. While she laid on that increasingly becoming hotter table, she remembered her past, her rise to power, her restructuring of The Reich, her glorification of The Dictatorship, its fall, and the hell her region has lived in since.

She tried to think of anything; anything other then the rising heat and her sweating body. This man was smart; he had removed her stealth suit, which would have protected her against this heat. She showed no sign though that she had acknowledged that this man knew precisely what he was doing. When the temperature reached critical heights, she felt her body begin to prepare itself for death, as she continued to lay there, unmoving, willing to accept the fate that was inevitable. However, she did not die from the heat; rather, the lights shut off emerging her in complete darkness, the room almost instantly beginning to freeze, as the temperature began to drop.

Her sweat started to freeze on her body, chilling her as her hairs stood up, and her body trembled uncontrollably in the cold. She refused to open her eyes even now; struggling to focus on anything that would consume her mind. She found that focal point when she remembered a little girl, remarkably alike herself, standing at her leg, hugging it…..her protégé. She smiled at that moment, refusing to allow her captures the joy of seeing her suffer, as the temperature immediately dropped ten more degrees; her lungs beginning to hurt, her heart beat slowing, and her systems beginning to shut down as the temperature reached critical low levels.

She did not give sign of surrender though, or even the faintest scream of pain or facial expression to convey her suffering. The lights shot back on, and for quite a long time, her sense of time no longer existent, she was subjected to this routine; continuing to refuse to convey any external sigh of suffering, fatigue, or anger. She smiled as memories of children trying to sneak up on her to proceed her skills and families waving as she walked past filled her mind. She refused to give those memories up; they would sustain her through this. And as the days passed, she fought harder and harder to maintain a smile; defiant to her capture's wishes.

Charmaine smiled lightly as Mathias had submitted to her will. Her grip released slightly on his arms, and moved to just above his shoulders to support herself, leaving his hands free. The left strap of her Lycra tank had fallen off her shoulder. She licked lightly at his neck in hot feverish fits. It was the first time that Mathias had felt her skin warm, (well, a bit warmer) to the touch. She undid the buttons of his jacket. Seeing as he would be staying a while, he might as well take off his coat. There was a devilish glimmer in her eyes, that Mathias could clearly catch on to.

Perry meandered through the hallways, after the aerial assualt, he had tried to find someone, but rather, he found himself immersed in a maze that he could not find his way out, working his way through the labyrinthe of corridors and staircases. The mansion was definately much more complex then could have imagined, as he walked past a corridor he swore he had walked down at least two dozen times.

Angerily, he turned abruptly down a narrow corridor, find a much large corridor at the end of it, with many rooms lining the corridor. This place was definately familiar, and for once he had a glimmer of hope rise in him; he was finally getting his way out of that foresaken mouse trap.

He stopped and looked from left to right, unsure of where he should go. He turned right and found his way to the massive staircase, but quickly retreated when he saw prominent figures below him and the chaos below. He no longer wanted to be captive and quickly pressed his back against the wall.

He needed to hide.

Quickly looking around, as he swore he heard someone begin to climb the stairs toward him, he saw a room nearby. Fumbeling with the knob, he quickly turned it, and burst into the room, afraid to be seen by anyone.

He shut the door after a moment of panicked breathing, and pressed his back against it, hoping that no one would happen to be coming to this very room, which was rather dark, blocking his vision until his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Mathias helped her in removing his jacket, quite relieved to get out of his uniform jacket, which was holding in the heat of his body, making him hotter then he desired. Tossing his jacket off the bed, he leaned up toward her, using his left arm to raise him as his right hand ran up her arm, playing with the strap that had fallen off her shoulder.

He kissed her, moving his lips down her neck, and onto her shoulder; losing himself in the moment.....that was, until the door burst open and someone scrambled in. Fear arouse within him, paralyzing his movement, as his breathing suddenly stopped.

"I'm dead...." his mind raced, imagining it was someone who had found the perfect oppurtunity to end his life.

At the light which had shortly entered the room from the halls, Charmaine had moved from the bed to the other side of the room, clinging in what seemed to be slow motion, to the shadows which remained. As the door closed, her muscles relaxed, and her body eased from the wall. She saw the figure as clear as if it had been daytime. She heard Mathias’ concerned, and proceeded to quietly grab a syringe from the top of her bag and pull out the contents of the vile she had left on the dresser. She put this in the pouch on her right thigh, and scowled. They truly would never have peace and quiet.

She listened to Perry’s breathing, and heart beat, drawing on it what she could. She smiled lightly, and slipped to his side silently. She flicked on the light switch with her left hand. The room was brightened only slightly, and the lights were quite dim, but bright enough to Mathias could see. Already across the room from the scare of the light entering, Charmaine eyed him carefully. Does he mean to harm you? Charmaine directed at Mathias, her fingers twisting the syringe, filled with a vile azure liquid, within her hand.

Mathias's grabbed at his chest, his heart having stopped beating from the intense jolt of fear that had arouse within him suddenly. He tried to breathe, his lungs refusing to accept oxygen, while his head began to spin.

The wave passed though, as Charmaine stood aside of Perry with a syringe to his neck. Mathias stared blankly at Perry, unsure of who the man was precisely. He reached for his gun instantly, aiming it at Perry, remembering three gunshots that had taken him down from his friend that had aided that man's accomplice while he fought to defend The Depths of Hell from invasion. He tried to move off of the bed, wanting to put a bullet through the man's head, but resided in droping his gun and shaking his head "no" in response to Charmaine's inquiries.

He was tired of killing; he deserved to be shot. He shook he head again, "No Charmaine, let him go......he's not worth it. Come and rest. You should get some sleep," he conveyed to her as he slid off of the bed, smoothing the sheets he had disrupted.

Perry muttered a curse beneath his breath; as his luck would have it, he naturally would enter a room with someone in......a room with armed people who could kill him.

He was the mercy of this stunning woman before him; his eyes traveling over her body as she stood aside of him, twisting something in her fingers which he dared not to look upon. He noticed another in the room; a man....and his heart beat picked up.

"Bortniansky," he muttered, cursing his luck even more that he should enter the room where Mathias resided, appearing to be rather involved with a woman he should not have entered upon. His heart jumped when Mathias held a gun to him; knowing that they were not on good terms.....for he and Nye were trying to kill Mathias to overthrow The Reich.

When Mathias had discarded his weapon and shook his head, Perry's panic seemed to settle some, alleviating partially when Mathias stood up and as it seemed, was preparing to leave. He looked to the woman, who still played with something threateningly near him, and realized why Mathias had been so interested in her.

"I bet he was just after her ass. He just wanted to bang her and go. Damn.....who wouldn't! She's a looker....and a killer....." his mind talked to itself as his eyes ran over her body once again.

Admiral Hunny*Dew raced about, gliding quickly and hastily over the onyx floor of the foyer, bustling about in search of Richard. She had wanted to see him again; remind him that what they had done was not just because they were intoxicated, or was it? Her mind had been consummed since that moment, wondering whether or not Richard had any feelings for her.....remembering that he had feelings for C9.

When she could not find Richard immediately, she searched for Der Fuhrer, but found that both were missing; or as it would seem, everyone was missing. She had not seen Erzsebet, Richard, Mathias, Charmaine, Dante, or Der Fuhrer since she had awoken from The Red Queen implosion.

Finding that no one had taken notice to any of their appearences, she drifted her way upstairs, toward Mathias's bedroom, hoping he had perhaps went to sleep and she could confide in him. But when she found his door slightly ajar and empty, her hopes diminished, as she seemed to droop down the corridor and up another flight of stairs to the third floor, into her own bedroom, where the bright light had filled the room. Drawing down the thick and heavy drapes, she shut out the sunlight and slid into her comfortable and soft bed, pulling the comforter up to her chin and rolling onto her side in the fetal position to go to sleep dejected.

Charmaine’s left eye twitched slightly, and she narrowed her eyes at Perry. She placed the syringe calmly down on the table, and turned back towards the intruder. She looked straight into his eyes. Keep your eyes to yourself, she said to him silently, and lifted the stray strap back to her shoulder. She tilted her head toward Mathias. “You know, it can be quite a curse to hear the thoughts of some people. Sometimes you hear things you really can only look upon with disdain,” she walked back to the edge of the bed, and sat down, placing her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands, staring at the one who had just entered. While she did not want to kill any more, the constant disruptions had put her very much on edge and uneasy. Maybe if she would kill one, they would all just leave her alone for once! She, however, could not go against Mathias’ request.

She chuckled at Perry’s thought a bit. It was she who was in control.

Mathias, dejected and feeling slightly embarrassed, walked toward Charmaine, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Please rest Charmaine.....I'll go escort this man out of here. If you need me, I'll be in my room....it's to your left at the end of this corridor. I really don't want to leave, but it seems we'll get no peace, and it's daytime, you should rest. I'm going to get to work....we're preparing for war and I'm unfortunately the leading professional for the task," he finished with a frown; depressed that it seemed he was solely designed to destroy people in mass numbers.

He leaned toward her and kissed her gently on the forehead, running his finger through the tips of her hair lightly before pulling away. "Damn......I love her....." he thought as he felt a pang of sorrow in his heart that he was going to let her rest without him.

Neglecting to grab his jacket or gun, he turned away, sad that he was leaving despite his desires. He wished he could stay, but he knew soon everyone would be looking for him to find out what was on the agenda. Grabbing Perry's arm tightly to escort him from the room, he placed his hand on the door knob, waiting for Charmaine's "okay" to open the door.

Charmaine realized that Mathias had to leave, but tried not to frown. She smiled lightly, and held him close to her a last time before their parting, and slipped something into his pocket. It was her silver chain bracelet with a platinum rose charm, matching the tattoo on her back. There was a far deeper story to this symbol, though it seemed an ordinary rose. In each leave on the side of the rose was a small diamond. She didn’t think he had noticed her doing this, and tried to seem nonchalant about it. She put her hand on the door handle, and turned the knob, opening it toward her and staying in the shadow the door had created.

I suppose I should, it’s been a long night. I’ll see you at sunrise.

Mathias left the room, rather forcefully pulling Perry along. Escorting Perry down the stairs, he opened the door and pushed him out, conveying the feeling that he was not welcome here. After quickly closing the door in Perry's face, Mathias stood within the foyer, looking at the damage that had been wrought. He shook his head in disapproval while making his way back up the staircase.

Once inside his room, he closed the door and sighed, walking over to private study he had off to the corner of his room. Looking around, he searched for a small book, feeling the need to process some of his recent thoughts. However, that small book could not be found, and he began to pace back in forth in a frantic nervousness.

He remembered deliberately leaving here; he recalled placing the small book down there last. He vividly remembered that. But where had it gone?

Searching the book shelves, he had not found it among the other books. Turning from the book shelves he searched his drawers, closet, and even his bathroom, but his search resulted in absolutely nothing.

Feeling frustrated and realizing he had not slept for sometime, he abandoned his duties and fell onto a black couch near his study, removing his shoes and socks, and resting his head on his arm as he staired at the ceiling. His body was feeling great, but he could not deny the process continuing within him. This existence would become painful for him, and he made the resolve to begin research the next day. Before long, Mathias had fallen asleep, in the same position he had first laid down as the sun was beginning to set in the distance. He did not move at all during the course of his sleep except for the rising and falling of his chest as he slowly breathed in and exhaled.

Once outside, the cold crisp air immediately began to nip at Perry's nose, as he grabbed his shoulders and slowly stepped away from the mansion. It was unusually cold for daytime in Stadt, and it left him with a forboding feeling he could not shake.

He made his way toward the large gateway, not really paying attention to his surroundings because of the intense cold. Off in his own world, he tripped over something large in his path, falling forward into the grass. He got to his knees and turned around, seeing a body lying on the grass, imaging them to be dead do to the lack of movement and the paleness of the skin.

He noticed a seemingly slight breath come from the man and scrambled toward him to check if he were still alive and that it was not his mind playing tricks on him. He rolled over the man and fell backwark.

"Mother fucker! What the fuck! How the hell! No fucking way!" he obscenely swore aloud as he looked upon the face of the man believed to be dead for too long now; the man he had watched on TV for years and admired. He touched Dante's face, feeling the man in his flesh. It was seemingly impossible, yet right in front of him, here Dante was....alive, although barely, and not trying to kill him. He noticed the large cut across his forehead and the cut on his neck, wondering what had happened and why he was here.

Grabbed Dante from under his arms, he drug him quickly from the mansion complex, toward his Blackbird he had arrived in, which much to his surprise stood unscathed from the bombing run.

He hoisted Dante into the plane, normally designed for one pilot, and scrambled in himself, seeing the airport ahead of him cleared and readily available for his personal use. Wasting no time, he took off down the runway, the sound of the plane reaching Mach speeds in moments after takeover echoing through the desolate Stadt. He was free to run now, with the man he had always fantasized about meeting and becoming like; he would make it his goal to restore Dante to his health and allow him to return to his former glory.

Charmaine grabbed her cloak from the hanger, and wrapped it tightly around herself, taking a breath; she opened the door and stepped out into the corridor, the fabric protecting her pale complexion from the sun. She picked up her pace. She could not sleep; she would not be able to, not until the warmth was gone from her flesh. She opened the door slowly, and closed it behind her, her cloak remaining on to shield her from the light which entered the room. Mathias had fallen a sleep, and she took care not to disturb him. She took careful note of her surroundings, and was surprised how large the room was. Past the sitting area to the left was his bed, which Charmaine took comfort at the corner of. She could rest here, with Mathias in the room. Soon, she began to fall to sleep.

His icy blue eyes toyed with the image of his fledgling. She had been sitting so long on the edge of her bed, and it was nearly afternoon. Her eyes were closed, and he could tell she was resting as much as she could. Days could be very trying. She was no longer a fledgling, but she was his just the same. His dark black hair was combed in a disheveled manner, though his attire was fine. He parted his lips, and two alabastor fangs, (far longer than Charmaine’s), rested on his bottom lip. He savored every moment of watching, of waiting, until he finally raised his voice.

“My dear,” he said softly, and Charmaine’s eyes shot open. She jumped slightly. “So surprised to see me? I said that I would be checking in on you this month.” He walked around the room, and then shot to Charmaine’s side, lifting the syringe from the pouch on her thigh. He was certainly quick, and seemed not to make a sound. “What is this now?” It took a while for the girl to answer, she was clearly shaken by his presence, but managed to stand up and firmly plant herself on the ground. If he had ever found out about her and Mathias…

“It’s Botulinum toxin, it has the power to kill in the form it’s in, though in purified pill form it can heal,” her eyes caught on to those of her sire, and she was left immobilized, he stepped forward, rather gliding across the floor back to her once again, and swept his hand softly across her face. “Aiden, you really need to leave me. There are many things that I need to get done, and it’s in the middle of day, shouldn’t you have come at night, anyway?”

“The sun doesn’t burn like it used to. It fades to a painful stinging, but nothing more than I can bare. It only grows weaker with age,” he took note of the other in the chambers. “May I ask what you are doing here with a human, Charmaine? I would hate to think that you were involved with such a vile creature.” He lowered his head, and his eyes delved into hers. But Oh! How great the vastness of a Shentavo’s mind, he could not see anything past those violet shields.

“Just doing my job,” she replied softly. “You know?” She quickly tried to come up with a reply. “He has a lot of information, you see.” Her sire nodded in agreement, and accepted this as a fair answer. He passed to one of the walls, and took up a great axe, twirling it in his hands. Charmaine lifted her hand. “Please don’t, you will disturb him, and I can get nothing more from him should he not be able to rest his mind.”

“I suppose,” Aiden replied, and continued his tour of the chambers, axe still in hand. He then turned back to Charmaine and smiled. “This is quite a place.” Charmaine nodded, but felt uneasy. She prayed that Mathias would stay asleep. She prayed for his own sake that if he had awoken, he would pretend to be so.

Mathias was stirred awake by a feeling as if someone were watching him; remembering that feeling all to well. Many times in the depth of his sleep he was stirred awake by this feeling, only to engage in a fire fight as enemies advanced and tried to attack.

He heard soft voices, one of a man and the other of Charmaine, and he felt his heart beat begin to race. They were in his room.....for what purpose he did not know, but he felt a primal instint arise within him, pushing him to either take flight or fight as his mind convinced him that he was in danger.

Trying not to move, he listened in, despite the heavy thudding of his uncontrollable heatbeat. Picking up pieces of the conversation; he began to feel a pang of hurt rising within him. He was beginning to feel as if Charmaine had known this man rather well and that they had a relationship. He wanted block out the possibilities....run from the truth. He knew it was too good to be true....that man was probably like Charmaine he suspected, and he felt foolish for believing that she could have any feelings for him, a mere mortal human who was dying from deep within.

He grimaced as his mind raced, "No.....just please tell me no. I'm dead. I'm going to die. She can't love me, she loves him. I'm just a worthless human. I'm just a pathetic dying old man. Was I that naive to believe someone as amazing as her could possibly love me? What's going to happen? Why is my heart aching? Why is my head hurting? What is going on? I....they're in my room. They've got access to Reich material. They....my weapons....I'm going to die...."

His mind losing all sense of logic and reason, his eyes shot open and he scrambled from the couch, as if suddenly awoken by a horrible dream. He did not look at either of them as he faced his book shelves grabbing his head, which was steadily trobbing intensely with the beating of his heart. He heard their light footsteps, tremedous pounding to his fragile senses.

"Where am I? Why? Who are they? I'm going to die.....just please make it quick...." his mind fought to think as the trobbing became more intense, feeling as if he were starting to spin.

“For such a tired man, he does have a lot of interesting notions in his mind,” he turned to Charmaine with a deadly look. Her eyes widened, and she stepped back from Aiden, her cloak shrouding her face. “Are you telling me that you share no interests in this man while his mind races and questions if you love him.” Charmaine narrowed her eyes and took up a defensive stance. He saw the defiant look in her eyes and he scoffed. His eyes deepening to a rich scarlet. “Damn it Charmaine!” he yelled, not caring about Mathias’ peace. He further advanced on Charmaine. “For all the years I spent training you, teaching you what I knew, and giving you all I had, you turn on your name to have feelings for a human!” he turned and walked towards Mathias.

Charmaine was immobilized by her sire’s presence. She tried to yell out but couldn’t. He continued on, “He has your blood in him, Charmaine. He has YOUR blood rushing through his veins. I can smell the sweet sent of that angelic liquid, make no mistake.” He observed Mathias carefully, and placed one hand on Mathias’ neck while the other held the axe. “I will not have you waste such time on such a mere mortal. You can’t possibly love him, it is mere infatuation for the fact his heart beats and yours remains still with mine.”

Charmaine watched as her sire gripped Mathias, and she could bare it no longer. Her fangs extended, and her crimson eyes flushed with the same hue of crimson, with the reflection of Aiden within them. She had made it to Aiden in less than a second, bringing her fangs squarely down on the arm that held Mathias. His grip released the man and his other arm swung the axe into Charmaine’s side, sending her across the room. She lay on the floor, a bit of blood trailing from her lips. She pulled out the axe from her side, but could not bare the strength to move. A pool of her own blood seeped around her, as her eyes remained open. She fell motionless.

Aiden looked at her for a moment, and then left Mathias, alive and very much gasping for air. He looked over the sight of his fledgling, surprised at what he had done. He stood looking at her for several seconds. He sat down in one of the chairs, and took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He lit one, and inhaled, blowing out the smoke into the room. “You know, if she would have been maybe ten years older, she could have regenerated. She was always a quick learner, but I doubt she’ll be able to recover. She hasn’t fed for days.” He spoke as if it were common conversation. “I didn’t pierce her heart, but the blood loss seems to be enough to have killed her. It’s not like you can check for a pulse or anything.” His long sharp fangs were clearly in view. “To think she could fall in love with a mortal,” he scoffed again to himself, ignoring Mathias. His fledgling had taken the force of his anger, and he had none left and no more reason to exact any of it on Mathias.

Mathias tried to gasp as a hand seize his neck, knowing it must have been the man because the hand had not been Charmaine's. He tried to breathe, but could not, his head seeming ready to explode as it trobbed as the man spoke.

He tried to look into the face of the man, but simply could not, struggling to breathe in the man's tight grip, when he was released suddenly, crumbling to the ground. Never since Dante's brutalization of him did he feel as powerless and weak as he had at that moment. He watched the man swing the axe into Charmaine, sending her away farther from him.

Without getting to his feet, he scrambled across the floor like a pathetic wretched animal after her. "CHARMAINE!" his mind screamed; despite what he had heard just moments ago, he could not deny his feelings for her.

When he had reached Charmaine, he touched her face, strands of hair having fallen into her face, feeling the the coldness of her skin along with the softness of her hair. He wanted to cry, but anger had surged within him. No longer at his weak fragile state his body was subjected to, he stood up with ease and ran toward the large chest of drawers that line the wall, removing a rather large knife that had been collected and used for gutting people, while running toward his bar to grab a glass.

The man said she had lost a lot of blood; perhaps he could save her, or so he wished as he ran back to her and fell to his knees before her, cutting open the sleeve of his shirt and plunged the knife into his midarm, cutting downward toward his wrist; deep red blood pouring fast from the cut which he collected in the glass. Filling the glass and feeling rather dizzy himself, he lifted Charmaine's head, bringing the glass to her lips and trying to make her drink of it, but finding he was far too weak to continue holding her and the cup.

"Save her! YOU SAVE HER!" he cried in his mind as his shaking hands tried to pour his blood into her mouth, spilling more onto the floor and Charmaine then into her mouth, while he savagely cut arm continued to bleed, weakening him further, as he kneeled in the steadily growing pool of Charmaine's blood.

"Save her......" he seemed to beg, as he brought the knife to his arm, cutting deeper to produce more blood to give to Charmaine. He had never felt this way for someone, and he would go down with her if that is what it took to keep her.

He grew weaker, trying so hard to have Charmaine drink, while he began to feel colder while continuing to spill the glass in attempt to feeding Charmaine.

"Save her....." he thought as he dropped her head and a few seconds after the glass, falling onto her while losing his strength quickly.

Richard sat down across from Erszebet, unsure about how to begin; he had become intimidated by the unknown. Even the Freedom Fighters were a known, he could even make an inference at how he would likely die should he displease them; a bullit through the head couldnt be that bad, it would be only for the people who had to clean up such a large, obscene mess. Richard had seen a victim of terror headless, the contents of her cranium splattered on a wall from the immense blast of a shotgun at short range. It still haunted his memory occasionally, a faint impression of his past; of his father trying to have him conditioned to not feel like his newly 'befriended' assassins. He had been a lost hope then, not the killer his father wanted him to become; someone who genuinely wanted to help the people of Adyndril before anything else. Richard already knew that he was a better man than the one he called father. Recent events were starting to wear on him, but he could feel the compassion within him for all things; something he could reach for and touch, and he did that as he spoke to Erszebet.

"First, if there is anything I can do for you, dont hesitate to ask; thank you for joining me in here, I had an.. unpleasant encounter with Charmaine earlier and its inspired me to seek out answers. I went on a walk outside looking for fresh air after the odd explosion, and saw Charmaine sucking the very life out of Dante; im sure you saw at least the results of that.. free-for-all.. on your way out.

Erszebet, ive seen you drink from a goblet, your incisors are as hers are; made to pierce flesh much deeper than mine or Der Fuhrer's were ever meant for. I didnt like the way Charmaine ruthlessly beat my skull, I had to fight not to pass out and perhaps even be next. You seem to be more a lady of class, and I thought you wouldnt mind helping me with information. I tried to ask her a few questions, but it seemed to only villify her further; so you can see how I might be a bit nervous to ask you anything about your.... differing lifestyle. I most assidiously hope that you do not mind any inquiries."

Richard turned his worried creases into a friendly smile when she said that she did not mind at all, but expressed a bit of impatience, obviously wanting to get back to what she was doing just recently.

Richard cleared his throat of an impediment, "excuse me. I really have but one question; however, its... multi-tiered. How did you get to be that way, why must you drink blood for nourishment, and what does it all mean?"

He sat back and awaited her response with the utmost of patience, a look of growing understanding upon his face.

Charmaine had needed no blood. Her sire had failed to notice the flush of her cheeks. She had fed on Dante earlier, and gorged herself on his blood. Her side mended, and her eyes fluttered, as she realized what Mathias had done. She looked at his wrist, and brought it to her lips, her lips closing over it and sealing it off. He had lost a lost of blood. He would survive; she had closed the wound which he had created. “You fool!” she yelled. “Don’t try and save me, you damn fool.” Tears streaked her face, though they were ones of blood rather than water. Her emotions had gone past their limit. She heard his voice inside of her head. “Just shut up and let me protect you!” she shouted at him, holding his body close to hers, her side having nearly fully repaired itself. She had ignored the pain, for the one she loved had nearly died in an attempt to save her.

“How touching,” her sire commented, and then scoffed once more. “The day that you ever put your life on the line for a human…” he looked as if he was going to take another shot at her as he stood up. She frantically scanned over him, throwing a wild hiss at her sire. She left Mathias on the ground as she removed the syringe from the ground and took it up in her left hand. She jabbed it into her sire’s arm, and injected it so quickly, that even the ancient could not avoid it. He backhanded her across the face, but she was only pushed back ten feet, and remained standing. She growled. Her sire was a bit startled that she survived. He had underestimated her potential before. He could not fathom that it was because of Mathias.

She growled at him, and her sire returned the glare. He stepped over Mathias, who was slipping in and out of consciousness. Charmaine’s blood was within him, and was frantically repairing the flesh underneath the sealed wound as well as continuing to circulate. He let out a husky growl, and leapt forward. Charmaine did as well. He landed a solid heel into her chest, and she was sent back once again. “Such a foolish girl,” he said, and pulled the syringe which was still stuck in his arm, out. He felt a shiver run through his body.

She smiled lightly. “Maybe, but you see, that toxin…it will affect you as it does everyone else.” He felt a slight wave of nausea, and felt his eyes closing. He was falling and couldn’t help it. He fell into a deep sleep, though he couldn’t be killed from a toxin that killed living cells. He was put into a comatose state, however, and would awake in a day or so. Charmaine walked back to Mathias, and fell beside him. Her fingertips brushed against his, and both lay there, soaked in blood. Even Charmaine had felt dizzy from the lost, and her violet eyes returning, she fell to sleep.

Mathias had barely heard her screams, managing to weakily smile at the thought that she was alive, although the smile quickly faded as he fought the darkness he was slipping in and out of.

He was unaware of the fight that her persued between Charmaine and the man, as his head now lay in the puddle of blood from Charmaine's side as he drifted into unconsciousness as his body struggled to save itself by making Mathias rest.

He lay unconscious, even after Charmaine had fell asleep aside of him and had awoken later that night. His body would remain in this sleeplike unconsciousness for at least another day yet as it regenerated the lost blood cells and restrengthened itself from the weakness.

"No! Don't do it! PLEASE! Please Dante! Don't! We beg you! Please! PLEASE DON'T! Mathias!"

"Dante....please don't......please.....Dante....don't.....I......(gurgling sound)....please.......(gurgle).....help me......(coughing).....help....(gurgle)....me....."



Mathias twitched in his sleeplike state.



A bullet sailed past his head as he fired three rounds before taking cover behind a pillar. These men were cunning, smart, and instinctive.....anticipating his every move. He heard the struggling on the staircase, shoes kicking against the ground, as a man struggled to break free from someone's grip. The man tried to break free with all his might, but three men had restrained him securely.

Mathias dove from the pillar, firing three shots again at the struggling man, or seemingly at the man; his aim was on the men restraining Dante. They were saving their enemy; the men in the black suits making their way toward the complex doors. He had to stop them. He fired three shots again, each shot hitting one of the men in his head, splitting his skull into countless shards while destroying the man's brain instantly. He heard gunshots fired and quickly rolled on the floor stopping at a table. Kicking the table, it fell over him, protecting him with a thin shield of wood as he replaced the clip and prepared to fire some more.

He fired four bullets, two hitting a second man in the back, one in his shoulder, as the other missed his head by a foot. He went to dive again, his foot catching the table, sending him onto the ground before the final standing man still holding a restrained Dante. The man brought his gun to Mathias's head, but all that was heard was a highpowered rifle shot that echoed within the room as silence ensued afterward.



He grimaced in his sleep.



He stood outside the sealed shut gates of The Depths of Hell; a dozen well trained and respected men he had trusted at his side; Inferno joining him momentarily.

The bombings had only been the start, but was quickly broken by two men, Mr. Nye and none other then The Supreme Council member Major General Henning von Tresckow, who ran down the stairs, unaware that Mathias had headed them off. Met by his soldiers, the two men dodged behind a massive support beam that had half fallen as a fire fight broke out.

Tresckow had insisted that they be let in. Mathias, despite his obligations to the leader of The Supreme Council, could not allow The Depths of Hell to be given to an enemy. He continued to fire at Nye, unwilling to let them pass.

And a bullet passed through his chest.

He stumbled forward, feeling the searing pain as he looked into the eyes of Tresckow who had fired again, peircing Mathias's shoulder, sending him to his knees. Mathias fired a shot, hitting Tresckow. Unsure if he had missed the man, Mathias fired again to be sure, the bullet implanting itself in Tresckow again. The third shot Mathias did not feel as he fell face forward, bleeding from the three wounds and his mouth, as Tresckow walked over his body to gain enterance to the base, Nye stepped on him.



His face distorted in pain in his sleep.



He danced with Charmaine; she sang, her voice unlike any he had ever heard. He lost himself in her as they continued to dance and soon left the mansion for walk in the brisk chilled air of the moonlit glimmer in the darkness. He had loved her so much; his feelings beyond words.

They had returned and lain together in bed; their passion rising before Perry intruded. He had left her.....he left her.....despite his feelings, he had left her. And he would pay for it.....

He had awoken to hear a conversation that had drained all hopes of a future with her. A conversation that caused him to panic and get up rather then just playing that he was still asleep. And for that she was nearly taken from him.....that man hurting her.

He cut at his arm to save her; drained his blood to save her......but she had not loved him. She had not loved him; yet he was prepared to die to save her. That man had just laughed at him; he was nothing more then a bug to these people. Even Charmaine could crush him easily with a stamp of her foot.....he was an insect to these people....a disease carrying filthy cockroach in their eyes. He was nothing more then a cockroach to Charmaine. She would crush him when she had extracted what she needed from him.........but how he loved her dearly.....how he cut his own arm deliberately to save her life.......



He made no motion in his sleep.

Though initially wary of Richard, as Erzsebet had learned, unfortunately, not to trust anyone until they proved they could be trusted at this level of power, she was pleased to find that he was not rude, unlike Charmaine. And she agreed to his request to ask her about what she was, figuring she would correct some misconceptions he had in her answer to whatever question she had.

"First of all, I want to clear something up," she said, in a very matter of fact way, sounding not angry, but simply wanting to correct misinformation. "It's not really a lifestyle as you call it, at least not for most of us. It's nothing that's chosen. Also, generally vampires' fangs are in the place of the normal canines of humans. In my case, they are simply much larger." She paused for a few seconds. "Now, on to your question. Unfortunately, the answer can be summed up in two words... it depends." She gave Richard a level look, to let it sink in a bit. "Not all vampires, as most people call us, are the same. In fact, Charmaine and I are quite different, though we are both vampires. I am a Moroii, a living vampire, and unless I am incorrect, Charmaine is a Strigoii, a dead vampire." Erzsebet tried not to grimace. She didn't like talking about Charmaine, but it wasn't Richard's fault that the woman had acted with such hostility towards her. "There are no Strigoii where I am from. Callisdrunian vampires are Moroii. However, most vampires from elsewhere are Strigoii. They are usually less common within their own nation than Moroii are in Callisdrun, Hel, we're fifteen percent of the population, but there are more nations with Strigoii than Moroii."

She paused before continuing. "How did I get to be this way you ask?" Erzsebet paused and shrugged. "I was born. Not much I could do about it. I was the daughter of two vampires, who were themselves the children of vampires, and so on, though there were many humans thrown it that mix as well. You see, a female Callisdrunian Moroii will always bear Moroii children, even to a human father. I suppose I shouldn't call non-Moroii simply 'humans' as we are human too, technically the scientific name of the Callisdrunian Moroii is Homo Sapiens Carnivorus, but we all sometimes use shortcuts when speaking." She kept her voice pleasant, and level. Though to many foreign ears, the hissing sound of Moroii's voices sounded somewhat fierce, by now it was probably apparent to Richard that it was simply the way her voice was, not any kind of anger at him.

"Not all vampires are like this of course. Some Strigoii can only make new vampires by turning normal humans. They accomplish this in various ways. For some breeds, just a bite is sufficient to make a new Strigoii. For some, they must drain the normal human until he or she has suffered fatal blood loss, and then, just before death, cause the normal human to ingest some of the Strigoii's blood. I do not know what breed Charmaine is, though I don't think a simple bite is enough. I'm not sure, though." Erzsebet gave Richard a considering look, as if she really would like to know. "Callisdrunian Moroii, however, have a very difficult time turning humans, it's complicated and I'm not going to go into it, since it's an almost unheard of occurance."

"The origins of vampires, as I suppose that might have been part of your question, are different for almost every breed. Assingtonian vampires, for instance, are Strigoii, and said to be some strange sort of demon spawn. I don't know about demons, but it's clear that their beginnings were quite different from ours in Callisdrun. My breed's start is quite boring really, we simply evolved as a sub species in what was essentially an arctic wasteland. You'd be surprised the number of strange mutations that can occur. A paleoanthropolgist or a biologist would probably be able to tell you all about it, but during our evolution, in Callisdrun, certain bands, in order to get additional iron, I suppose, began drinking the blood of animals. Eventually, they developed a very high tolerance of iron, and then became dependant on a much higher level of iron than normal. Then, through mutations and circumstances I don't know much about, they somehow became dependant on human blood for survival. Many vampires, Charmaine is one of these I think, don't eat regular food at all, just blood. We still need it, though we generally eat our meat pretty rare. These..." she opened her mouth and pointed to the long 'Sorvik Daggers,' where her upper canines would have been if Erzsebet had been a normal human, "developed some time after the depency on human blood. There are different shapes of them. My clan, or family, as it is, has very long slightly curved ones, while those of the Batory clan are barbed, like a harpoon or an arrow, on the back..." she grimaced. "Most of them only insert them part of the way, when they bite, so as not to hurt their donor too much, but a few have been known to put them in all the way."

"Anyway, I'm not quite sure why Strigoii need blood, some can drink animal blood, but many can only drink that of humans. Many breeds also require much more blood than I do, some basically have to kill their source." She did not say victim, since in Callisdrun, they weren't victims, they were donors, and often developed close friendships with their vampires, and sometimes those friendships turned into something more. This made Erzsebet think of Knut, her donor and the love of her life. That brought a tear to her eye. Her voice remained level, but it contained just a barest trace of unsteadiness. "I've heard that Strigoii need the blood for a variety of reasons. Some include that they need it to re-animate their bodies, or that their still living brain cannot function without the human blood, or a whole host of other reasons. Generally, it is better to be bitten by a Moroii than a Strigoii though, as I've heard that some Strigoii have the most appalling opinions about non-vampires. Horrible, really." Her voice sounded angry ont he last sentence, because it did anger her that some vampires thought of humans as livestock.

"Does that answer your question?," she said, interested. She could now see why people chose the teaching profession. It certainly was rather satisfying to talk about something that she knew about. "If you have any others, feel free to ask, I really don't mind."

Charmaine hovered over her work, taking different ingredients and mixing them with a mortar and pestle. She worked quickly, the alchemist pausing to observe her work. It was almost done. She was a diligent worker, and worked hard to provide poisons and antidotes to those who wanted them. They paid very well for her work. Her skin was flush and tan, her hair was blonde. She had not yet fell victim to Aiden, who then entered from the front door. His cloak was heavily draped around him. He took in the sight of the beautiful alchemist, and walked toward her, stopping at the counter.

She raised her eyes to him. “Can I help you?” she asked softly, until upon seeing his face curled her upper lip. “Aiden,” she continued, and he removed the hood of his cloak. It was dark within the shop, and stained glass windows prevented the light from hitting him there. “I’m almost done. It should be able to protect you for a few hours while you gain up immunity.” He didn’t respond as she continued to work. For several minutes she worked before looking up for a response. “What?” she inquired.

“Nothing,” he replied casually, falling back into a chair on the side. “I wouldn’t suppose you’d ever consider joining me. You are a direct descendant of Miss Genesis, and that makes you half of my family in a way. Though I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to live forever, never age…You’ve already got killing down to a science, my dear.”

“Enough!” She snapped, and turned her focus back to her work. “I would never become such a vile parasite.” She saw Aiden’s face and scowled.

**
Aiden took what he wanted when he wanted. There truly was no one who would fight back against him
He threw Charmaine against the stone wall and locked her hands up with his own. She struggled, but her strength was no match for his. He plunged his fangs into her neck, and she let out a scream, and tears rolled down her cheeks. This was not her choice, she did not want this. She felt herself growing weaker as her blood loss began to take effect. He slashed his wrist with his fangs and placed the wound to her mouth. Forcing her to take of his own blood, he then pulled away, and let the woman fall into his arms.

He watched her die.

Richard listened intently to the description of.. vampires.. put out by Erszebet, disappointed that she did not know more about Charmaine's type of vampire, but none of it quite gave him what he was looking for.

He proposed the question carefully so as not to alarm Erszebet with its nature, it wasnt Erszebet who he might have to fight one day, "Thank you for answering my question with such eloquence, but I do have another. I fear Charmaine after I saw her instability, after she tried to knock me out. I dont know enough about the.. Strigoii. How do I defend myself against one should I be attacked again? How do you kill something thats already dead?"

Richard saw patience in Erszebets eyes, it calmed him to a high degree; he didnt mind spending this time around her, she was comfortable talking about an uncomfortable thing, and Richard felt a great deal respect for her for that.

Genocide laughed from her too large ergonomic chair; slipping out of it as she walked toward troops spread vast across the distance, spreading into the distant horizon as the sunset behind them.

"My soldiers, we go to war!" she excitedly yelled, as if playing a game, her voice echoing amoung the ranks who cheered at the news. As she prepared to speak again, the vast ranks silenced immediately, "Blackbirds and Spirits; my lovely little boys, take flight immediately. You're mission will arrive after take off."

With that, four men moved from the front ranks, walking past countless billions of eyes stairing at them, envious that those four alone were called to perform Genocide's task.

Within the building, a figure watched Genocide and the troops moral to such a young child; a grin settling upon its face. "Perfect," it seemingly hissed as the figure slid into the shadows.

Within moments, the sound of two Blackbirds and two Spirits taking off sounded, a cheer among the soldiers beneath Genocide roaring aloud. This moment was what they have prepared for since their nation has been isolated after the fall of The Great Empire.

Major General Henning von Tresckow emerged from the depths of the underground section of Mathias's mansion, trembling with cold, and irritated with the countless others who were forced there for their own protection.

He looked around the desolate foyer; for once it was completely empty and looked as if a tornado had ravaged through it. He grimaced, feeling as if he should not be here; yet, feeling the overpowering need to try and explain the situation to Der Fuhrer. He had shot Mathias three times; sure had he killed the great General. Der Fuhrer would indeed not be pleased with this news and he feared his death by The Red Queen; a fitting death for what he had done against The Reich......if only they would have understood.

Without conscious thinking, he was heading up the staircase and turning toward Mathias's bedroom as his mind traveled among the possibilities of everyone's reactions; hoping.....praying.....that a loyal Reich supporter who had known him and of his actions would not see him. He did not need that at this moment; he just wanted to think.

Noskalenaeuroph awoke on in the medical bay; his eyes adjusting to the bright light. He felt renewed, his wound fully healed, unsure of when that had happened. He stood up from the bed, searching for his clothing and his sword; he would need to speak with Erzsebet.

After dressing, he found his long sword, sliding its sheath over his head so it hung from his back. His long white hair fell about him, messed and unkept from speading much time resting in the medical bay.

He searched his way back toward the deck of the ship, finding one of Erzsebet's soldiers to help him locate Erzsebet. He would definately need to find her and as quickly as possible; for an unsettling feeling arouse within him and he suspected emminent danger.

The leader of The Reich Freedom Fighters lay slowly awakening on a hard metal table. He felt his wrists tightly bound; for a moment he suspected he was in The Depths of Hell, but he knew this place all to well.

He stared coldly at the ceiling.....his own kind......

The door opened an hour later; Damon turned his face toward his capture, seeing a mirror image of a man much like himself, although with blond hair and a cocky grin. "Interesting you found yourself here. Like being the hunted? You've killed enough men in this very room......I think you'll find it an appropiate place to die yourself. Ah....the day the great one was taken down......be sure I'll enjoy every moment of it......and every scream that comes from your mouth will be like a gift from the Gods!" the man grinned as Damon stared indifferently into his eyes.

If he were to die this day; he would leave this "predecessor" with the most chilling image he'll see in his life.

And the sound of a woman's scream echoed from a nearby room. "It appears we're making progress! I've succeeded where you failed! Even the strongest crack.....even the strongest....."

Erzsebet knew Richard was asking about how to kill Charmaine. She was not sure she would want to tell him, even if she was exactly sure. Even after Charmaine had demonstrated such hatred towards her, Erzsebet still felt a very slight level of kinship with the woman. They both had fangs, after all. She told Richard what she knew, anyway though. After all, many Strigoii did think of humans simply as food. "Again, it depends," she said.

"Different breeds have different weaknesses. Some are vulnerable to silver, a silver bullet in the head or heart will kill, but that's not universal by any means. Direct sunlight is fatal to almost all Strigoii, I've never heard of it not being so. Some will die from massive head trauma or decapitation, some will die from any injury to their heart. Generally, garlic and crosses and other such things don't work at all, or so I've heard. They don't work for Moroii either, in fact, I rather like the taste of garlic as a seasoning on steak."

Erzsebet realized that she was still clothed in naught but her skin. She blushed slightly, though she wouldn't have in Callisdrun. Others said she was beautiful, though she did not think so herself, they said that her ghostly pale skin made her large green eyes stand out. Knut had often complimented her on her beauty, though he sometimes joked that her pale skin was a perfect canvas for all her tattoos. She crossed her legs and looked down at one in particular, of the Sorvik clan's symbol, a blood red rose with large thorns on its stem crossed with a vicious looking axe. The same axe, in fact, that she carried with her. Erzsebet wondered what her family would think of all this.

Charmaine was the first to wake. She propped herself up groggily, and her eye caught Mathias. She then recalled what had happened, and frantically looked toward her sire, comforted that his body still lay where it had fallen due to her poison. She lifted up Mathias in her arms. It would have been a comical sight due to the difference in size should it have been under different circumstances. She carried him to another portion of the rooms, where a bed lay, and laid him down, shifting the blankets over him. She kissed his forehead, and walked back to where Aiden lay.

She took his pack of cigarettes and put it in one of the pockets of her shorts, as well as his lighter. Her long white hair fell in tendrils curling at the bottom down her back. Wiping the blood away from her skin, there was little she could do about her clothes. She estimated another half hour before Aiden should wake up. She walked back into the section that Mathias was in, took to a desk at the side of the room, removed a piece of paper, and began to write.

Mathias,

I have to tell you the truth, because I no longer can bare it. I manipulate people in order to get information. I am exceedingly skilled at it, and that’s what I was doing when I first had my encounter two nights ago. Remember? I had nightmares. Think honestly now, what type of vampire who is awake at night has nightmares during that time, when she isn’t even sleeping? I lured you in, I tricked you, I deceived you. I don’t blame you if this hurts to hear, but I’m telling you because what started as doing my job ended with me caring for you. I don’t know what happened, for I have never felt this way for anyone that I can ever remember. I understand if you won’t trust me any longer, for that is as much as I deserve, but I tell you in earnest I love you now, more than my own life.

I died a very long while ago. Eighty nine years to be exact. You make me feel, like I never did. Why you’d come to be with me, I don’t think I’ll ever know. I’m scared, and despise the way I have to live. I haven’t told anyone, because no one would understand. Whisper in a dead girl’s ear, doesn’t make it real, but being with you touches me deep within my soul. I can lay my body down, but I can never die from age. I wish I could take my love and bury it in a hole that’s 6-foot deep and save you from what pain it would bring you. I am not allowed to love you, and even though I do, it would most likely result in your death. So, I’m telling you, stay away. My love is a deadly poison, and if you bare to love me after knowing what I am, if that should not kill you, then others will.

I’m sorry I can’t stay with you any longer. The danger I have put you in, I can not forgive myself. That man you saw is my sire, the one who made me as I am. There is no other person that I hold a greater contempt for in this world, for I had not been willing to fall from heaven. In being what I am, it is looked down upon to have any relations with humans other than for what purpose Dante had served earlier. I’ve dosed him with one of my poisons, and he will be waking within minutes. If he should get another chance to kill you he would, knowing now that I am still alive. His name is Aiden, and if the two of us should go against each other, he would surely win. He is far older than I am.

I’m going to kill him, if I am able, while he sleeps. I do not wish any harm to come to you, not any more with the pain I have caused. While Aiden regards human as cattle, and vile creatures unworthy of any respect, not all of us as you have seen, hold the same regards. I admit that I had similar thoughts though not as severe, though you have become the exception. You, however, have seen me for what I really am; a parasite and a killer. You have seen me feed, you have seen my eyes turn scarlet, you have seen my fangs, and you have seen everything about me that I have not wanted. You shouldn’t love me! You should despise me for what I am and I should loathe in envy of your heartbeat until I stop it. But I’ll follow you like a girl possessed. I’ve been labeled a traitor in my sire’s eyes and I don’t care. The thought of losing you hurts me more than you could ever imagine. If my heart could beat it would break my chest. I can’t stop the way I feel about you, but I can protect you. Understand that there are many vampires that would kill both of us, and even consider this a crime. Aiden is one of them, and when he awakes, hell will break loose.

I have to leave you now, so that your death will not be at my father’s* hands. I’m singing to you now, though I know you can not hear me, so I’ll write my melody below so when you read them you can remember my song. Remember my words, when we were dancing. Remember that image, and try to think of me that way. Try to forget me and the way I looked before you lost consciousness. In your memory leave me gently on the floor, and leave that room. I will love you eternally, Mathias, and for me, eternity is a very long time.

~Charmaine

You cast a perfect shadow on the paper, fade away with sunlight,
You are my only hope and make me stay awake another night,
I wish you bear with me, stay near me
When the Autumn leaves have fallen.

If you fall, I’ll catch, and if you love I’ll love,
And so it goes my dear,
Don’t be scared, you’ll be safe
This I swear, if you only love me back.


Three tears fell from her eyes, and fell onto the paper. She folded it, and placed it with Mathias. She took a syringe from her pouch and took some more of her blood from her arm, even though she had lost a substantial amount. She did this four times, setting the vials on Mathias’ side table next to him. She could grant him eight more days of health, for it was all she could give to have the stability to continue standing. She looked at him, her resolve to see him for the last time. Standing, she made her way out of the room and headed toward Aiden.

Her eyes widened as her sire’s body had vanished. She looked carefully around the room, her ears picking up no sound other than that of her own footsteps. The alchemist was out of poisons, and out of time. “Aiden,” she whispered softly, her violet eyes deepening in hue once more. She turned around in a circle, trying to place where he could have gone. The blood had gone from the floors as if nothing had ever happened.

“It was so kind of you, Charmaine, to let me sleep in,” an ominous voice slithered along her ears. She straightened up, and turned around, coming face to face with her sire, who was nearly towering over her. He smiled brightly, exposing his fangs with a horrific display.

He attempted to hit Charmaine in the jaw, but she narrowly dodged his attack, and kicked him on the side of the head. As her foot was returning, he caught it, and twisted it. With that, she twisted with it, falling to the ground as he released her. Before she could pick herself up, his foot hit her ribs, and broke two of them, and the force threw her across the room, her back hitting one of the walls before she fell to the ground. She shot a glare at him and hissed, regaining her composure. She was a skilled fighter, but Aiden had been one of her teachers.

The two looked at each other for several seconds. The alchemist eyed her sire, and took several throwing needles from her left pocket. She threw one, and he deflected it with a motion of the hand. She threw two quickly, and continued. All of which were deflected. She held the last one in her hand, and shot it at him. Her sire made another motion of his hand in an attempt to knock it away as the others, but he had been too slow, and the needle had grazed the side of his cheek. He was a bit surprised, but did not show it.

He was by her side in a minute, both within the shadows of the room. He slipped behind her and wrapped his right arm around her waist while the other gripped her hair and tilted her head to the side. As much as she tried to struggle, he was stronger than her. With no more needles, no more vials, and no more poison, she couldn’t beat him, could she?

“My dear,” he continued, running his lips along her neck. “You could have anyone you wanted, even me. Yet you chose him. It doesn’t matter why, but I can not bear the disgrace. You do understand that your death is now inevitable.”

“I do,” she replied, closing her eyes. She did not cry as she felt his fangs graze against the skin, ripping a small portion of flesh off without actually biting. She grit her teeth and felt Aiden’s grip tighten around her. Suddenly, she felt herself being pushed forward, and her sire’s grasp releasing, and the back of her top tearing where her tattoo was, exposing the flesh on her right shoulder openly. She turned around to see an expression cross her face she had not seen before. He was pointing at her.

“Damn you! You bloody prying Pandora! Where…” he nearly caught the words in his throat, “Where? No, how...how did you get that tattoo?” Charmaine didn’t respond, and could not, for her sire’s actions were unexpected, and she was frozen by her uneasiness. He stepped forward, and she stepped back a bit, but continued to bark at her. “You little viper! Curse you!” Charmaine shifted, but a smile plagued her lips. She stood where she was.

“I was not aware that you understood the significance greater than I ever have, nor that it would affect you, but seeing as it does, I believe you are rather glad you hadn’t killed me,” she proceeded to step towards him, remaining and weaving about the shadows of the room.

“Damn you ruddy lying Delilah,” he snapped again. Throwing his hands up in the air. He glared at her, not sure of whether to reprimand her, or to run. He seemed to have gone mad, not knowing exactly what to do, but clearly livid and afraid at the same time. “Ravelyn’s thought you dead for years!” he said huskily, gasping for breath as if he needed to.

“Because of you,” she continued. “I started a new life, one that I had never wished for, but which suited me.” Her eyes narrowed. She had so long lived as Charmaine, she had nearly forgotten. She had forgotten even her tattoo, not being able to even see her own reflection in the mirror. She took a step toward him this time, and he backed up.

Before you, I was Sarah, she said hatefully, her expression darkening. I was Sarah Vaughn. The name registered immediately, and his nightmare became reality. And the day you turned me was the day you started controlling my memories! You went so far as even staging events when I was drugged, even with my photos. I never had a sister, I had a brother…and his name was Quissera! You’ve been toying with me for so long that I may have forgotten, and they have lost their significance over the years. If it hadn’t been for Mathias, I wouldn’t have even begun to feel again!

“Silence! Don’t speak his name in front of me, that putrid human has poisoned you so!”

NO! she yelled silently, and turned a look of hatred towards him. You be silent! If you touch Mathias, I will kill you, and if I can not, I will kill myself, and you will have my death on your hands. He opened his mouth to speak, for he was speaking aloud while Charmaine remained silent. She shot him another look and he held the words in his throat for several seconds.

“Curse you,” he muttered under his breath, but still maintained his stature. “I could kill you instantly---“

But the repercussions of your actions would be devastating, she continued. Get out of here. I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth, you will not plague me as you have for the past eighty nine years.

“And you will not belittle me, my fledgling.” Despite his anger, her turned from her and opened the door to let himself out of Mathias’ chambers. As she heard the door slam, she locked it behind him, and started to shake. She placed her back against the door, and could not stop shaking. She was scared into a fit. The ripped fabric of her shirt clung to her tightly, as she sat there, not having the strength enough to stand after what she had just done.

Richard listened intently to Erszebet as she described the various things that may or may not do harm to a vampire. He was skeptical about some of the things that Erszebet had told him, but she had no reason to lie, and Richard suspected that she had not.

"Thank you very much for your time, Erszebet; im afraid that I have pressing matters to attend to. You wouldnt know by any chance where I could get a silver dagger? No.. I suppose you wouldnt," he spoke with respectful tones and stood up to leave, "this was a pleasure, we will have to find more time to talk in the future. I have an interest in Callisdrun and its people; be well, Erszebet."

He turned around to walk off, then stopped and looked back, "oh.. and you might want to think about putting on clothes; there are dangerous men about," he finished with a wink and a smile before turning around and walking out, the door handle squeaked as he twisted the knob and pulled it towards him, shadowing the faintly lit room with an extra burst of light.

Outside the confrence room, he took a deep breath; it was a bit intense around these creatures. The strength that he saw in Charmaine as she feasted on Dante was most certainly impressive; he hoped the day never came when he would be forced to fight one of these creatures, but he intended to be prepared for the possible.

He silently thanked Erszebet again in his mind for clearing some of the fog of the unknown and walked off in search of Hunny*Dew. She had been on his mind, and he felt bad about having just left her in that room after the blast; he wanted to make sure she knew that what they did wasnt about the drink, it was about the lonliness that he felt inside, and the solid attraction he felt towards her.

Much later the next day, around noon, Mathias slowly awoke, feeling rather drained and fatigued despite the extensive rest he had received. He rolled over in his bed, unaware the he had been moved, when he heard the rustling of paper. He stirred awake and searched for the paper beneath him, pulling it out, noticing a writing the he was not familiar with.

As he read the note, he knew who had wrote it before finishing it, his face showing no emotion. Upon finishing the letter, he stared at it blankly, rereading it several times to take in all she had said. During the last read, his hands begun to shake fervently; his face fighting not to show emotion, as his heart began to ache with a pain so unsettling and intense that he laid back down and curled into the fetal position. His lips twitched between remaining straight and moving into a frown while he held the letter tightly against his chest, staring at the wall, but seeing nothing.

After a few moments, refusing to cry in that moment, he slid off of the bed, carrying the letter clutched tightly in his hand with him. He walked to his bar and opened a bottle of Bourbon; drinking straight from the bottle as he fought against the warring emotions inside of him.

Anger arouse.....intense anger at this own mortality. His grip tensed, smashing the bottle....grabbing another to merely send into the wall in a fit of rage. He sent three more bottles into the wall before crumbling to the ground in seemingly silent sobs, still clutching the letter tigtly in his left hand and bringing it to his forhead, partially obstructing his face. Tears fell from his eyes.....he felt weak, worthless, fragile.

He did not care if he would die because of his love for her; he would die anyhow and he felt dying for love would be the best way to go out. Even if he had suffered, it would be worth it just because he had loved her. He could not understand why she had chosen this path. Of course she wanted to protect him, but he was not afraid of dying for her. He would rather have died at that man, Aiden's hands, then by the hands of the region he had fought so hard to defend.

Standing up momentarily, finding the need to engage himself in work at that very moment, he stood up, shaking from the previous blood loss, sorrow, and now alcohol surging through his system. He continued to carry the letter with him; refusing to let go of Charmaine.

Still in the same clothes he had fallen in, he walked toward the door, neglecting the fact that others would surely react at the sight of his blood stained apparel.

He stopped where Charmaine landed; the area had been cleared and both Aiden, as he had learned, and Charmaine were out of his sight. He frowned; imaging she had run off with him. He wanted so much to yell, but his forever muted voice would never again sound.

Charmaine sat propped up against the door, hearing Mathias’ rage did not shake her. She blinked, but could not bring herself to move. The truth was a paralyzing thing. My name is Sarah Vaughn…I have a brother, not a sister, and his name is Quissera. She repeated it over and over again in her head. The rose tattoo on the back of my right shoulder means that---She repeated the thought over and over again before the tears started streaming down her face. She realized that the name meant nothing, and when Aiden had turned her, she had started a new life. She was the daughter of the leader of the nation, Ravelyn’s daughter. She was the princess, the heir to the throne, but when Aiden turned her, all had presumed her as dead, as Aiden leaves no traces, though they never would have paired the pallid Charmaine as the vibrant and tan Sarah Vaughn. Not after all these years, and she didn’t care. She was Charmaine, and that was all that mattered.

She couldn’t bring herself to stand, her shirt falling off of her right shoulder almost completely. She looked up at Mathias, standing only a few feet away from her, but she couldn’t speak. She was as mute as he was. She had refused to leave him, and in this, she had denied the wishes of her sire. She would most likely feel the impact later, when she would have to hunt, and she would have to feed off of people once again without the help. It made her cringe.

So she remained there, eyes having lost their previous shine at the wake of current events. Her face was blank, and finding herself unable to smile. She had heard his pain, and wanted to leave. She couldn’t bring herself to stand. He could not see that her love would be the death of him, by Aiden, or by another. As long as he remained human, their love would never be let alone, and they would never find peace. Charmaine couldn’t leave him, as much as she wanted to for his safety. She couldn’t leave the one she loved for moments of his life were dear while hers just carried on. She wanted to be with him through all of them.

Mathias stopped, haulted abruptly, at the sight of Charmaine, blinking in disbelief. He stared at her unsure what to think as he stepped back shaking his head in disbelief as if he had just seen a ghost.....a spirit of the Charmaine he had loved. His hand still unconsciously clutched the letter in his hand while he stared at her, sharp tears coming to his eyes. He held them back, trying to maintain a straight face as he fought his emotions.

"Why......" his mind begged silently to himself as he looked into her expressionless face.

He wanted to run at that moment; run away from them all and escape. He hated love; he hated the hurt that accompanied love. His face distorted again as he fought the surmounting emotions. Turning away quickly, so Charmaine could not see his face, he laid his arm, the one holding the letter, against the wall, his head resting on it.

Nothing made sense to him; nothing. He needed to get away; he needed to stay. He loved Charmaine; he hated love. He wanted to embrace her; he desired to kill himself first.

The burning tears fell before he could stop them, but fortunately his arm prevented them from falling to the floor. He did not want Charmaine to see him this way; he did not want to be alive anymore.

Charmaine finally found the courage to stand, both lovers shaken from the events. Several minutes of silent past between them. Charmaine heard the different pattern of breathing, and reached her hand forward, though he was across the room, she tried to reach out to him. Because…I thought…I wasn’t going to be coming back. I thought that Aiden…would kill me, and spare you at my wishes. But…when he realized…who I was, he…he left. She swallowed, and observed the sight of her love against the wall. It broke her heart. He still held the letter in his hands. And now you know the truth about everything. She received no response, and looked at the ground; the first time she had done so in her entire time in the nation.

A few beams of light separated them, and Charmaine could not cross over to him. She clenched her fists tightly, as a few tears fell from her eyes. Please, Mathias… She shook her head and stepped forward into a run for him. The sunlight stung her severely, but she was not in it long enough to burn. Everywhere the sunlight hit the skin had turned red, which was on her lower back, and her left arm, as well as the side of her neck. She let out a wounded sigh, and tried to evade the light into the shadows where Mathias stood. She leapt for him, her arms outstretched.

"I love her....." Mathias's mind reassured him as she turned around to face Charmaine, seeing her run through the light and leap toward him with her arms outstretched. Embracing her as he caught her, he spun her around, pressing her against the wall which he had previously cried against....the letter falling to the ground aside of them.

He stared into her lavender eyes, his eyes glancing over the redness of her skin where the sun had touched her. Leaning forward he kissed her hard. "I love you Charmaine," was all he could think while he held her tightly; afraid to let go.....afraid that it would be the last time he held her.

Pressed against Charmaine, he felt his own mortality, the beating of his heart inside his chest as he held her. He fought back a well of anger and frustration at himself while holding back the tears that threatened to break from his eyes. He felt so weak....so vulnerable....easily crushable....he wished it would just end.

Somewhere within the depths of her mind, Charmaine had wished she had fallen in love with another vampire. He would have been accepted, and while Aiden may have felt a slight jealousy toward him as he would never have Charmaine’s heart, he would have let it pass nonetheless. He could walk where she could, and restricted where she was, and in every moment they could never be separated. He wouldn’t be dying. Charmaine, however, couldn’t deny that she had fallen in love with a human, and in accepting this, she took his perfections and faults. She even took in his mortality, but refused to actually acknowledge the fact that he could leave her at any moment.

“I’ll love you forever,” she whispered as the skin that had been touched by sunlight began to heal. She really could have died should she have stumbled, even from such a minute thing. Mathias’ frame had shielded her from the sun. She kissed him passionately, her hands resting on his chest. She then looked up to him. We aren’t immortal, you know. The sunlight which you can walk through so easily burns you to the core. It’s as if the layers of skin are being scraped away one by one. If I stayed in the sunlight for too long, then I would die. Small burns can heal, but if I am exposed for a short amount of time completely there would be no recovering from it. She paused slightly, and thought of the incident with Aiden. I should be able to walk in the sun. I truly should be able to! It may have been words that he couldn’t understand.Ravelyn could, Michael could, they all could. Everyone except for Daja and Aiden, and yet, yet I am cursed with it as well. She wasn’t sure if Mathias had heard her, nor exactly what she had said. Hold me . He wrapped his arms around her, and drew her close.

“Whatever lies beyond this morning is a little later on,” she said, her voice melodic, “Regardless of warnings the future doesn’t scare me at all.” Nothing is like before.

Aiden made his way throughout the halls, passing though the sunlight which annoyingly stung, though not as intensely as it had years ago. Thanks to his darling alchemist, she had created something which she took no recognition of, and has most probably forgotten about. He passed down a set of stairs and observed a man coming out of a room. He looked a bit shaken, but Aiden bowed his head in greeting as he passed the man. “Greetings,” was all he said. He walked toward the conference room. He had sensed another, and relished the taste.

He entered the room to see Erzsebet still sitting there. He closed the door behind him, so that Richard’s view would be blocked should he look back. His ice blue eyes scanned over the woman. Without proper attire, little was left that he could imagine. He stepped towards her with a smile. And bowed forward in a formal greeting. “I do not believe we have ever had the pleasure of meeting,” he said, his eyes unmoving from the woman. Aiden’s pale skin and classic introduction left Erzsebet no questions about his race. “My name is Aiden.” He took her hand and kissed it, before letting it drop to its former position.

Mathias kissed Charmaine again, lingering for a brief moment, as to not make her feel uncomfortable, but wanting so much not to go. His hands sought her face, gently lifting her chin and and lightly brushing her neck with his fingers as he looked into her eyes, his heart beginning to ache with a longing. He kissed her again, much gentler this time, bringing his lips to her neck and back to her lips before finally releasings her and stepping back some; beginning to remove his shirt to offer her as much protection as he could.

"You should really rest; you can sleep here if you like. The light shouldn't find you in my bed.....I don't much care for it." he conveyed to her, buttoning the shirt he intended on removing until he remembered his scars. He paled quickly and began buttoning his shirt; fear and embarrassment controlling him. His scars were signs of his failure.....his hurt....his past..... He did not want Charmaine to see them; to see him that way.

"Sorry," his mind muttered in attempts to reconcile what he had just done, but finding the urge to beat himself senselessly taking over.

She shook her head and placed a finger to his lips. Don’t apologize. she said softly. Don’t be embarrassed or shameful in front of me, you have no reason to be in front of me. Stand straight, and never look down. You do those two things, the world will come to you. She kissed him again.

Charmaine’s own mind plagued her as she received a deep headache reminiscent of her days as a fledgling. She placed her fingertip to her temple, and then looked at Mathias. “You’re right,” she said softly. “We’ve both had a trying day.” She managed a smile and slinked to his bed. She removed her bloodstained tank and shorts, and folded them by the bed. They had stiffened and were rather uncomfortable. She had not cared of Mathias’ eyes upon her, for she could only think about closing her eyes. She was dreadfully tired.

She pulled back the blankets and curled up underneath them, pulling them around her for what warmth they would provide. She pulled them tight across her chest as she lay on her side, revealing a portion of her upper back and the rose tattoo very clearly. She had even forgotten about the bracelet she had placed in Mathias’ pocket. She closed her eyes, and fell to sleep.

Charmaine rubbed the barrel of the pistol against a young man’s cheek. He was strongly built with light blond hair and dark blue eyes. He had tears in his eyes and was on the verge of going mad. Charmaine’s face was blank as she spoke, devoid of any emotion. “I can’t stand you. How you could ever? I had loved you.” She withdrew the pistol, but the door was locked and she had the key in her right pocket. She passed to the window, and the man rose, frantically trying to open the door.

“I want love with out complications galore…” she said softly, “To never cry at night again. And all the other real ones that I destroy could never hold a candle to my love, and I’d never let him go, and I’ll never be alone.” She pointed the gun at him, and the door budged slightly, but it would not open. “Did I make you feel smitten with my sad picture of girl getting bitter. Could you ever extract me from my bloody fantasy? I didn’t think so, but I’m still convincible. Will you persist even after I bet you a billion dollars that I’ll never love you, and will you persist even after I kiss you? Goodbye for the last time, will you keep on trying to prove it?” She paused, and the door opened. He rushed out and stopped short as he saw a body on the floor.

“Caroline,” he whispered softly, placing one hand to his mouth. The young woman had been mutilated.

“I’m dying,” Charmaine continued, standing in the doorway, “to win this, your losing.” She eyed him, and placed her other hand on the gun as well. “He may not be real experienced with girls, but I’ll know he feels it like a man should feel it. Isn’t that the point? With his pretty voice, saying that he loves me, that he’s thinking of me, straight and to the point.”

“Sarah, darling, you don’t want to do this!” He said, putting his hands up in the air.

“Oh quite on the contrary,” she hissed. “You broke my heart, so I broke hers. It should be enough for you to live with.” She fired the last two shots into the woman, and the man growled, extending a sharp pair of fangs. Rushing toward Charmaine, he sought to snap her neck. His expression changed into surprise as Charmaine’s hand tore through his chest, and her nails pierced his heart. “But if you want to play.” She withdrew her hand, and the man fell to the ground. From that point forward, her emotions remained frozen.

Charmaine shifted. I love you, she heard Mathias' voice in her head, and turned in her sleep, then settled.

OOC:

300th page!

Dedicated to the reason we are all collected here today. Thank you Dante for the inspiration and motivation you have brought into our RP. Thank you for initiating this war and bring us all here today despite your departure. You were a great RP'er, cunning and unpredictable. We will never forget you.

Also, dedicated to all those who have significantly contributed to the plot line of this RP. Thank you for your continuation and contributions toward this RP.....you have helped create an epic.

Mathias watched as Charmaine slipped into the world of sleep; smiling to himself that she had looked so beautiful sleeping as she did while she was awake. Slipping into a world of his own, he walked into the bathroom, drawing a bath to relax his tense muscles and clean the dried blood from his body. Stipping from his blood stained clothing, he filled the sink with cold water, dipping his hands into the water, washing the dried blood from them, which had tinted the water a faint red based color from which he had scooped up water from, dunking his face into his hands. He felt the cold water revive his sense, awakening his mind, only to be relaxed in a few more moments.

After thoroughly washing the blood from his hands, he slid into the still filling bath tub, resting his arms around the edges as he felt the hot water sting momentarily until his body became used to the heat. He breathed out a long held breath, placing his head back on a pillow that was kept there for such a purpose.

He let his body soak for fifteen minutes, where he managed to slip into a daze, staring at the water as it continued to fill, most of the blood washing off from the initial soak. Removing a sponge kept nearby, he lathered with soap and washed his body, his muscles finally relaxing and his body cleaned.

Finishing his bath, he drained the water, wrapping a towel around his waist while sitting on the edge of the tub, his mind lost in a mindless daze. Without thinking, he found himself half dressed, looking for a shirt to wear. He stopped for a moment, to look at the shirt in his hand, wondering where the hell he was. He backed up, running into the wall of his closet, looking around quickly. The last thing he remembered was......he couldn't remember.....

Panic began to arise within him. He could not recall anything; his name, where he was, what he was doing, or why he was there. Finding himself half dressed though, he slid into the shirt that his had was holding, surprised it had fit him so well, as if it were made just for him.

He tried to call out, but found his voice was stuck in his throat, rubbing his throat as if his vocal cords were in a knot. Even more surprised, he found that thick scar that ran across the entirity of his neck. He stumbled out of the closet, looking around frantically. "What is going on?" his mind raced, as his hands found the doorway leading out of his room.

"Help. Help." he mouthed, hoping to find someone who could help him in this frantic state.

Charmaine awoke, uneasy. She thought she had heard Mathias’ voice, but seeing him no where close, she dismissed the thought as simple remnants of her dreams. She shifted once more underneath the covers, savoring the comfort. She stretched, and stood up. She walked into the bathroom, and smelled traces of blood, but figured Mathias had also had the intention of washing the blood off of his skin. She found it strange that water was still in the tub, and tilted her head. She let out the water, and stepped in, turning on the shower. The beads of hot water rolled over her skin, and she pushed her hair from her face. She took a sponge from the side, and rubbed the dried blood off her alabastor figure. She turned the water off and stepped out. She pulled her wet hair back and did it quickly in a braid, a few stray strands falling to either side of her face.

She slid on her shorts, but found her shirt completely bloodstained and torn from where Aiden had slashed it. Finding it unfit to wear, she threw it in a waste basket, and went to look in his closet. She found a white collar button down shirt. While it would not fit her perfectly, she liked the feel of it, and his scent was on it. It was over the entire room and she loved it. She redid the small circlet around her right thigh which was now drawing empty from what she had used. She put on her sandals, and walked toward the door, avoiding the light as she went.

She stepped outside and into the halls. It was strange that Mathias had left her neither note nor way to reach him. She figured he had some things to do. She then saw him a bit ahead and halfway down the corridor. He looked a bit confused.

“Mathias?” she called out after him. She smiled brightly at the sight of him, staying to the right side of the corridor where no sunlight hit. She spun around. “How do I look?” She laughed slightly, in muse of her own gesture. His shirt had not fit her, but had a rather appealing look on her.

OOC: *gives DFD, Callis and Rave 300 hugs* :D

Congratulations DFD!! You've managed the bestest, longest, bestest RP around, keep it up.. and pour me a quadruple vodka, SCHNELL! :-P

*walks away after the drink with numerous gashes from a whip* next time ill ask nicer...

--

Like a breath of air the man passed by, "Greetings," he said with a smirk and bow of the head.

Richard was far too engaged in his thoughts to hear the man approach, but after the greeting, he caught a glimpse into his eyes; they were as icy blue as any he had ever seen, striking to say the very least. It was the pale skin that caught his eye, a slightly darker hue than Charmaine's; Richard suspected that this was another vampire. The man disappeared behind the door before he could greet him in return.

'24 years of life, ive never seen any of these creatures.. now they pop up every time I glance,' he sighed ruefully at the thought of all of the deadly threats and creatures he had encountered thus far, different life indeed.

"Well.. nothing to do but get some sleep," he said to himself, "but where?"

He walked around for a while until he found a hallway with a few grand suites. He talked to a guard on duty, asking him which room Hunny*Dew was sleeping in, the man gave him the room number and Richard walked off to find a place of his own.

Walking into one of the simpler rooms, which still would still properly fit a king, he stretched his muscles and took off most of his clothes, being careful to not break open the wounds healing on his arms; it felt good to take his shoes off and walk around on the silken carpet with his bare feet towards a nearby alcove with a desk.

He sat down at the desk wrote out a note.

Hunny*Dew,

I must apologize for leaving in such a hurry after that terrific blast; I followed one of our friends outside... ill have to tell you more about that when next we meet.

I fear that we havent had time to talk properly about what we did earlier. You're a woman with class, and I sincerely hope that you dont feel regret for any of the things we shared.

On my part, it was the most fun ive had in years; I dont think ive laughed that much ever before, nor do I see it happening again anytime soon. My life is on a balance, one more coin on the scale and ill be dead. We are all living in difficult, confusing times, you are the only beacon of light in that darkness for me at the moment, but im afraid that I havent given C9's death enough time and grief. You've helped with that more than you could ever know. I really think that I might have loved her, but we didnt have enough time; I know that you can understand and help me with this, just as I would help you with any of your problems.. dont hesitate to ask of me anything thats within my power to give.

I would consider myself a lucky man to be yours, but im afraid that now is not the time; not with the death and destruction that surrounds us. What if we were to have a child? This is not the environment in which to raise one, we might not even have a world to live in soon enough. I would love for us to continue to be friends, and fight this war; then, after all the bullets have been fired, after all of our fallen comrades have been buried.. then we can think about ourselves, then we can be together.

My smiles were over, but you washed away the sadness for whole moments of pure peace, and you did it in a tub; oh, what fun we had, I never want it to end, but duty calls for the both of us.

I want to be your friend, and ally; together we can be stronger than we would be apart, and I trust you with not only my heart, but my entire nation as well, and they mean more to me than I mean to myself.

I will be having dinner in dining hall #5 when I awaken from a nap; meet me there if you want to talk.

He paused and thought for a moment.

With eyes looking towards the future,
Richard

After folding the paper and putting it into an ornate envelope, he took a stick of wax and melted it in the nearby candle; dripping the red, semi-liquid onto the back of the envelope, and pressing his family ring into the wax to finish the seal.

On his way out of the room, he picked a rose from the flower arrangement in the entryway and made his way to where Hunny*Dew was sleeping. Entering her antechamber, he left the note with the rose on top of it on a table where she would see the ensemble on her way out after she had awoken.

Richard peeked his head into the bedchamber and saw Hunny*Dew asleep, it moved his heart to watch her laying there; she looked like an angel, like she was at peace. He changed his mind about laying down next to her, and plodded back to his room still half-naked with a wearied glance at the clock nearby.

Richard laid down and fell into a dream about an angel fighting a demon, who he later recognized as C9 and Hunny*Dew; in the dream, he wondered about why C9 was portrayed as a demon, but it didnt matter, he still cared for her even in death, just as he cared for Hunny*Dew. The dream morphed into a nightmare about a man with a tattoo on his hand, the nightmare came to him several times while he slept, and always ended with a gunshot.

Aiden made his way throughout the halls, passing though the sunlight which annoyingly stung, though not as intensely as it had years ago. Thanks to his darling alchemist, she had created something which she took no recognition of, and has most probably forgotten about. He passed down a set of stairs and observed a man coming out of a room. He looked a bit shaken, but Aiden bowed his head in greeting as he passed the man. “Greetings,” was all he said. He walked toward the conference room. He had sensed another, and relished the taste.

He entered the room to see Erzsebet still sitting there. He closed the door behind him, so that Richard’s view would be blocked should he look back. His ice blue eyes scanned over the woman. Without proper attire, little was left that he could imagine. He stepped towards her with a smile. And bowed forward in a formal greeting. “I do not believe we have ever had the pleasure of meeting,” he said, his eyes unmoving from the woman. Aiden’s pale skin and classic introduction left Erzsebet no questions about his race. “My name is Aiden.” He took her hand and kissed it, before letting it drop to its former position.

Erzsebet took in the sight of the man warily. She again wished she was wearing clothes. The man, who introduced himself as "Aiden" Sounds like the girl name "Idun" Erzsebet thought, was odd in his mannerisms, kissing her hand. She wished Knut was with her Where is he, as his imposing stature would help in this situation. Not that she didn't think she could handle things on her own, but people often assumed from her small size that she must be a weakling.

"And mine is Erzsebet Sorvik," she said, pleasantly, but not too pleasantly. She found Aiden's apparent lack of a last name suspicious. Also, he was probably a vampire, and probably of Charmaine's type. She had already been disappointed once, being disappointed again may be dangerous. "And yes, I am aware that in the opinions of many, my appearence is most scandalous." Many in foreign countries where people said they did not believe in vampires would probably call her a goth, for her jet black hair, pale skin and plethora of tattoos and piercings. However, to her, there was nothing abnormal about her appearence, other than the fact that her body would have no shelter from the elements outside, and drew too many eyes in this land.

OOC: Cheers to 300 pages of RP because of Dante! Wonder if anyone thought it would go this long when it started?

Confused and wondering aimlessly down the corridor, he heard a name called. A name from a voice that made him turn around instantly. Standing behind him in the shadows was a slender woman with the skin of a ghost, vibrant albaster hair, and compelling eyes of lavender, pools that seemed to radiate their own magnetic light that pulled him inward. He could not remove his eyes from this woman.....a woman he felt he had known but could not remember.

She wore a man's shirt too large for her, but he thought that she had looked rather good in it despite its size. He smiled despite the confused and clouded memory. He had stepped forward when fear grabbed at his chest. Hesitating, he stepped back, afraid to move any further. He could not remember her; she was beautiful, but beauty was a killer. The fear had paralyzed him in that moment as he tried to force his mind to recall anything of this mysterious beauty.

"Mathias....she had called. Who was she calling to?" he thought as he turned his head to look behind him, suddenly expecting to see someone behind him. Finding no visible person he began to deduce that "Mathias" was directed to him, whether it was a name, a hurtful phrase, or a greeting, he could not remember, but he tried to muster a weak smile despite his fear at the recognition that he understood who she was directing her conversation to.

Charmaine furrowed her brow, and heard the thoughts slip though his mind. “I’m calling to you, silly” she replied softly, stepping forward, weaving her way through the rays of sunlight that fell in from the windows. Something was different about him but she didn’t quite know exactly what it was. Why had he not recognized her, why had he not answered her question? She shook it off, and finally reached him. He was certainly cleaned up from yesterday, but there was a bit of panic in his eyes. Had she done something wrong?

“You never answered me,” she chuckled, bringing her lips to curve in a sweet smile. “How do I look? This is your shirt.” She spun around once more, and dismissed the question. “I was able to get a bit of sleep. Though I couldn’t quite mend my shirt after what happened, so I thought you wouldn’t mind if I borrowed one of yours, just until I can get back to my own room.” She looked up to him, her eyes taking in his, though she saw little recognition there. Have I frightened him? she thought to herself. Is…is he having second thoughts? Is he starting to realize what kind of creature I am. She attempted to keep her smile, but it faded slightly. “I…would prefer staying in your room a bit longer though, with you…because; well I’m still a bit riled from yesterday.”

“I never said it was scandalous,” he said softly. “Invigorating maybe, but far from scandalous from what my eyes have seen.” He sat down in a chair across from her, his icy blue eyes seeming to freeze the vision before him. One would not be surprised if there had been ice forming on his lashes for such an intense color it was! He brushed his hair back with his hand, and took in the sight of Erzsebet. She was truly tempting.

“So tell me, where do you come from?” he softened his eyes and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in front of him. His fangs were already extended behind his light smile, for he had not withdrawn them since entering. “I can assume that you are a vampire as well, judging by your beautiful complexion “

"I'm from Callisdrun, and yes, I am also a vampire, though of a different breed than yourself most likely," she said, ignoring the comment he had made earlier, as it sounded like he was mind reading, which she did not like. His eyes were attractive, and in a way he was more handsome than Knut, though he lacked completely Knut's wonderful warmth. He did not seem like the unusually kind type.

"Thank you for the compliment," she said. Her eyes were meeting his, obviously on her guard. She could see his fangs when he spoke, and it was likely, that unlike hers, his were retractable. Hers were even more visible when she spoke, perhaps he did not know that they were no more retractable than her molers. She looked as if she was sitting relaxed, but only a fool would think she was not alert.

“Would you let your guard down just a bit, my dear?” he chuckled. “I won’t bite.” He smiled lightly, and observed her even further. He would not invade her thoughts, it would make it uninteresting and the fun would be lost. “More likely a different family than breed,” he replied lightly. He put one hand in his pocket, and then noticed his cigarettes were gone. Charmaine had taken them. He decided to continue his conversation and forget about his fledgling for now. As he spoke, his fangs became more noticeable. They were rather long, a lot longer and sharper than Charmaine’s. On the outward side of each fang was a smaller one, as if he had been born with two canine teeth. They looked razor sharp.

“Callisdrun?” he churned over in his speech. “I have heard of the nation, though I have never traveled there. To what do I owe the pleasure of finding a lovely one such as yourself here? In the midst of a war.”

Erzsebet had never been much of a flirty. In a way, Aiden was too charming for her tastes, he sounded very upper class, almost like what an aristocrat would sound like to her, though Callisdrun had none. The moroii clans were the closest things that the nation had ever had to nobility, really. "Why am I in the midst of a war?" Erzsebet said, adding no indication of emotion to her tone. It still held that hissing sound, though. Someone somewhere had repeated a rumor to her that foreign vampires hissed as a sign of aggression, though she hoped that was not true. She did not to start another pointless conflict. "Where else would I be?"

Erzsebet paused for a moment, she only looked at Aiden's fangs as a point of interest. One of the clans had fangs of a similar shape to those. Her mind filed it away, useless information, and she continued speaking. "I have been in my country's military since age 17, where else would I be with a war going on?" Her eyes held that intangible hint of madness, or possibly something else, again.

"Yesturday....." his mind raced into a destructive whirlwind of nothingness. "Yesturday......what happened yesturday?.....yesturday? When was yesturday? Why would she need to stay with me? Why is she riled?.....what happened? Do I know her? Who is she? Am I supposed to know her? I....yes....I should know her; I think I should know her. I don't know.....yesturday? What was yesturday? Today? What was today? Where am I? I don't know where I am......who am I? What is that smell? It smells so nice.....is that this woman? Damn it, she's so beautiful....if I could just reach out and.....no....you don't know her. Why is she looking at me like that? What did I do? She looks sad? Why is she sad? Has someone hurt her? She's definately been hurt......I should give her a hug. No, she's too pretty to be alone. Maybe her lover died; she looks sad...... I.....where?....why?.....what's 'Mathias'?....."

His mind bounced about the countless questions; hitting a brick wall on each one. He could not come to a conclusion about anything; he not remember a thing before fleeing his bedroom in attempt to find out what was going wrong. Fear again arouse within; he was scared.....like a timid puppy trembling beneath the bat of a malicious owner.

Each glance in his eyes from her caused him to tremble within; afraid of this unknown surmounting within him. He wanted to make sense of what was happening, but his mind simply would not allow it. It would not allow him to recall anything and this frightened him more then anything. He could not remember this woman and it just may as well been that they were on good terms or bad.....and he feared the possibility of being on bad terms with her, for within him a gut feeling arouse that despite her fragile and delicate appearence, she was a killer, and a damn good one at that.

Charmaine put her hand to her mouth, drawing back slightly at every thought that slipped past his mind. She couldn’t speak for several seconds, and stared into his eyes, her mouth slightly parted in disbelief. Her stomach dropped and her throat was devoid of speech. Her voice was hollow and had lost the sweet melody it usually carried. “M…Mathias is your name,” was all she could manage. She blinked several times. How…what…what is happening? She tried to collect her thoughts but it was utterly useless. Maybe it was better that he didn’t remember her. He could forget everything that happened, and go back to his life. He would forget the way he loved her and she loved him. Charmaine would always remember though, and she couldn’t bare it alone.

“My…name is Charmaine,” she began, forcing herself to say the words. She wanted to run. She wanted to wake up next to him and break this horrid nightmare. She tried to pick out questions through the thoughts buzzing through his head. It made her temples hurt and she could only pick up some questions in the frenzy. “…you, you are my lover.” She suddenly wrapped her arms around him, burying her head into his chest, the coldness of her skin seeping through his shirt. “Can’t you remember me? What…what happened?” Her voice didn’t waver, nor did tears form in her eyes. She couldn’t fully comprehend what was happening.

“Well there are other places you could be,” Aiden said. His image was intoxicating, and while he possessed many strengths, his true strength was charm. He had taught Charmaine. “Even every mercenary needs a retreat, or has something else to attend to. War isn’t necessarily everything. He stood up, and crossed over to her side, still keeping a bit of distance between them. “I meant no offense by the question, only interested. I apologize if my presence has plagued you in anyway. I just thought that you might be someone who would understand.” He folded his hands and nodded slightly.

“You see, I have a bit of a problem,” he added softly. “I was hoping you may be able to take care of.” He paused slightly. "Though I do suppose you wouldn't be in for that line of work. I can promise the rewards would be great though." He shook his head, and headed towards the door. "It is difficult, and I would not want to see such a pretty face versing such a vicious task."

Erzsebet raised an eyebrow questioningly. "I am no mercenary," she said. Most Callisdrunian soldiers would take great offense to being mentioned in the same sentence as hired guns. "But I'll pretend you never said that word. War isn't everything, but I'm not about to shirk my responsibilities as a soldier. I've avoided too many others already." Perhaps she shouldn't have said that, but it might leave him wondering.

"Maybe you should tell me what the problem is, so I can see for myself whether or not it is something I can do," she suggested. "I can say almost certainly that it is probably not too vicious. I've had ships boarded and had all aboard killed and thrown over the side several times. Savagery is sometimes necessary." Though life in a Callisdrunian POW camp was very good, it was often hard to get taken prisoner instead of simply killed.