And if I Die Before I Wake...

I chuckled. She acted as if I knew what I was doing when I chose her. News flash sweet heart, even the undead fuck up. Royally. And still, even knowing she hated me, she still seemed so innocent. So naive, so oblivious. It was refreshing, but only made me want to protect her more. Some might call it noble, others might call it greedy. Me? I don't quite know what to call it. I glanced at her hand, still afraid to meet her gaze; a pang of guilt errupting in my stomach. She was so pale.

I stood, a lanky, towering, giant, and gazed down at her. "Sleep." I urged. "Don't overexert yourself."

She rolled her eyes and looked away. When she looked back I was only a foot from her.

"Promise me."

She mumbled something that sounded like "Fine" and I believed her.

"Good." I said and closed the window. "Stay in this room and do not move." She said nothing, but I knew she understood. I heasitated, looking down at her, before I left. The faint shuffling of my father's victim could be heard in the hallway, along with the wicked laughter of his mistress, enjoying the sight of the tortured prostitute. They heard me coming and it was quiet for a moment. They were afraid of me, and rightly so. It is a strange occurance when one of us chooses a bride, somehow, it makes you go up in rank. It was the reason Dracula was considered our king.

"What do you want, halfbreed?" my father asked. There was a tremor in his voice and his mistress gasped. I heard their victim whimper and crawl away to hide in the corner.

I opened the door to thier room. The walls were splattered with new and old blood, the stench of rotting flesh filling my nostrils. Both my father and his mistress were splattered with the same blood, human flesh hanging from their claws. They cringed at the sight of me, and backed up towards the walls.

Their victim screamed when she say me, trying despareately to escape, even if there wasn't a single window. It didn't stop her, instead she clawed at the wall, which left her finger nails in shreds. Strips of flesh were missing from her arms and legs, and her eyes were bloody.

I pointed to her. "Why must you torture it?" I asked.

"I-I'm sorry Lucifer, it won't happen again." his mistress assured me, trembling as she walked over to the now mad woman. My father's mistress started stroking the girl's hair, as if to comfort her. "S-see?"

"Bring her to me." I ordered.

She obeyed me, and my father soon went to help guide the poor woman toards me.

"H-have mercy on me sir." she begged, now on her knees.

"You will feel no more pain." I whispered. She stared up at me with wide, frightened eyes. "Close your eyes." I cooed. She obeyed me.

She would not wake up.

My father stared at me in shock. "You. . . you killed her!" he hissed.

"There. Feed now."

"But. . . she's dead. You can't---"

Morgan's scent wafted through the air, completely filling the room with it's odor. I growled, a low, wild sound. I looked at my father, he smirked at me.

I knocked my father out of the way before he got to her, venom dripping from my fangs, claws grotesquely mutating my hands.

"Morgan get back!" I ordered, throwing my father off me with inhuman strength. His mistress was staring hungrily at Morgan, slowly inching her way towards her. I snarled at her and she stepped back, but I knew this would not be the last time.

Morgan, surprise surprise, had not moved, instead imobilized in shick. She was not afriad, she had no time to be. My father stood and glared hungrily at me, but made no move towards us. At least not for now.

Swiftly taking Morgan in my arms, I slammed through my door and no less than tossed Morgan onto my bed. There was a moment before she regained her senses and the anger flared back into her features.

"Don't touch me creature!"

I snarled at her. "Right, because I didn't just save your worthless life or anything."