He was slowly losing his mind. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Bastian sighed and looked away from the opening above. He let himself lower, having been pushing himself up to have a peek. There was no point in trying, he barely could see anything outside.

He guessed that he was in a huge fortress. The window was on an outer wall; he saw fields, and in the far distance, a river and a village. They were too far for him to see clearly, but there was no mistaking it, this land was ruled by vampires.

He had seen a few beasts outside, roaming those fields. For multiple days he had tried to busy his mind with the view, but it only made him worry more. They were out there, yet nothing had been done to him for a whole week. He did not know what it could mean, but he hated to have to wait to find out.

Under such stress, he growled silently, glaring back at the far corner. The broken floor was there, the patch of earth seeming to mock him. He found himself moving towards it once more, thoughtlessly, and again the chain tensed and kept him from reaching it fully.

Bastian could only glare dejectedly, feeling the tight hold of the handcuffs, which pressured fiercely on his wrists if he pulled. They kept him from reaching what could possibly allow him to escape. That far corner was exactly at the distance the chain could outstretch, and he could not dig with kicks, of course.

He stepped away tiredly, again. Too many times he had paced towards it, mindlessly, having nothing else to do to pass the time. Well, nothing else but attempt to control his dread and fear. All ever slowly, he walked back to his favorite corner, right next to the small fountain. There was more shade there, sunlight nor moonlight ever reaching fully. The chain did not pull there, allowing him to let it drop to the ground, perhaps rest.

He sat sluggishly, letting his back drag against the wall behind him, not without a long sorrowful exhale. After that, he glared at the door once more, dreadful of it and what could come through. It had been opened already. He almost had a heart attack when he heard something roam in the outer corridor for the first time, a few days ago. He had cowered when steps neared the cell, and held his breath when jade eyes glinted, a guard peeking in.

That beast did open the door, but it did nothing to him. He had kept very still when the vampire walked in, clad in those robes adorned by feathers. Those eyes glared down at him hatefully, but its claws did not move to sink into him. Instead, they lowered something onto the ground. He could only cry in relief when it left, without doing anything harmful.

He was given food, an insipid piece of bread. It had no taste, and it was not enough to fill him up, but it was something. At first, he tried to keep himself from eating it. He had been sure that it contained poison, or that it had been made with a substance that would daze him and make him easier prey.

There was no fighting it, he had been starving at that moment. He eventually reached for the food, not having eaten anything since he had been taken down. Sadly, the bread was gone in a few bites, of course.

Surrendering to the hunger made him dread; he waited to feel sick, expecting his vision to grow foggy. Nothing happened, however, no matter how much he waited. Due to that fact, it took him little time to drink water. As well, it was safe. When he realized it, he finally satiated the horrible thirst he had been ignoring.

The days flew by so slowly… And all the while, his mind would keep him awake, offering many horrible thoughts. Every time the door opened, he would flinch, even though the same would happen; the guard would walk in silently and leave some bread, once a day.

He knew well that vampire always lurked out there, past the door. It crept around, keeping watch. There were no words, no bites, and no beatings. The only thing he was given, apart from food, was glares. Sometimes, that guard would let out a faint growl, which he was sure hinted frustration.

Why?

He would not dare ask and risk it, even if he had considered it many times, over and over again. There was little he could do in the cell: sit, stand, pace in circles, peek through the window he could barely reach, try to free his wrists in vain, check his injured eye, count every drop that echoed from the fountain… and think of how angry and disappointed Lyssa would be with him.

Waiting was all he was truly doing. He was just letting time go by. Maybe they knew he could go mad, all by himself. It would be funny, sure. Or maybe, they wanted him to rot. Perhaps they were expecting him to beg or plead for death. As well, they could just be busy with another poor unlucky bastard, and he was simply waiting for his turn. There was no way of knowing, and it was driving him crazy.

Bastian shivered, his thoughts wandering grimly. He recalled the last muffled words he heard while he bled. Even if he had been dazed at the moment, he had noted how spiteful that growl was.

“I want him alive, for now.”

Those words would make him tremble, each time they echoed in his mind. The voice had been so feral and hateful… it had promised pain. And fate would have it, that he would hear it in just a few moments. The guard outside spoke, breaking the silence and announcing the end of his wait.

“Sire.”

Bastian jolted, finally out of his pensive trance. He heard that guard greet, and something else. Strong steps echoed through the corridor, approaching. The word sire was always spoken with respect, and it would never be directed to one without importance.

His blood ran cold, because the snarl that echoed next seemed to pierce everything, its sound flowing into his cell. It was barely a whisper, yet it was loud in its intent.

“Open the door.”

It was the same voice that delayed his end. Though less feral, there was no doubt that he should have been thankful for its absence all these days. As he pled to god mentally, he did not even ponder that it was a woman’s voice.

He stood shakily to his feet, because his cell was neared indeed. His hands trembled and made the chains rattle; it was something he could not avoid, not when a huge shadow loomed outside, cast through the small barred window. The guard hurried, and keys rustled into the lock.

There was nowhere to hide or run, and yet he still recoiled. He moved his arms and back against the wall, feeling trapped. The door finally opened, and this time, it was no simple vampire. Those green eyes glinted and narrowed, fixing on him, fiercely.

She stepped in slowly but surely, while he gasped and flinched. She loomed tall in front of him, menacingly. The faint moonlight brushed her at last, enough for him to take in her features. Both of his eyes hinted horror, even if one was discoloured and scarred. She could smell his fear, and she let him know it with her next resentful snarl.

“Bastian…”

Recognition slowly dawned in his gaze, she could see it. At last, he seemed to understand who she was. Without her helmet, there was no way he could not see her features. Even if changed, she was still herself.

Her eyes were sharp, but still bright as emeralds. Her fingers had merged into three thick nails that could slice metal, but they still displayed her graceful manners. Her long red hair was now tied past her broad shoulders, but still tangled around her like beautiful fire. Her robes were darker, but they hinted her might all the same.

Bastian shivered, staring up at her like if she would fade away at any moment. His voice came out so quiet and afraid that even she had trouble hearing him, when vampires had very sharp senses.

“Nerys?”

He was sure he was just having a nightmare. Nerys was right there, in front of him, but not as how he remembered her. There was no trace of the caring young woman he knew. He could only see hateful sharp eyes, fixed on him. Her big claws were clenched at the sides of her huge figure, her stance hinting how fast those uncanny nails could stab. He could swear she had grown in size, something dreadful, as she had always towered over everything.

The worst thing he could see was her expression, full of ire, nothing like the loving emotion she had displayed in their time together. There was no gentleness, nothing but intent malice. Her features had sharpened, even her ears more prominent, pointed. Her skin was all too pale, as if sick.

Bastian felt his heart sink, because the smile he always treasured was gone. She was scowling down at him, and he could see huge sharp fangs in her snarl. She was a vampire, a very dangerous one. A lord was always something to fear, but he had never expected her to inflict such dread in him.

Nerys waited while Bastian stared at her twisted features, letting him see everything. She stayed still, hoping for a sign, something that would tell her that she was mistaken; she did not want his spite to be real. It was not to be. Her veins only burned more when he finally spoke, shaking his head in denial and aversion.

“Y-you… You were dead. I thought you died!” He could not believe she was a vampire, something so accursed. “You should not be-!”

It was a horrible choice of words, said in a blind horrified outburst. It made Nerys growl darkly, and then dash forward. Bastian wheezed when one of her strong claws gripped his neck forcefully, to slam him back against the wall. He was pinned easily, his wide eyes meeting her sharpened ones, terrifying in their unnatural condition. Her fangs showed as she leaned closer, towering over him, her nails pressuring slightly while she let out a furious hiss.

“I almost died. And I wish I did… my fate was worse than death.”

Bastian’s hands jolted up, grasping her claw as he trembled under her grip. Nerys frowned when he coughed, struggling weakly, choked.

“Can’t… brea…”

Nerys snarled, but then acknowledged his plea. Bastian took a deep raspy breath when he felt one of her nails stop pressuring, raising off his neck slightly. He huffed for air, her hold still fierce. After a moment, he raised his gaze once more, to meet her green eyes. She could only scowl with hurt when he gave her an intense glare, horrified and accusing. He whispered faintly, yet all too clearly.

“Y-you killed-“ She was the one to hunt down his troops. Most importantly, her claw was around his neck now, malicious and intent. She was not human anymore. “…Vampire.”

A single word could have many meanings, far too many implications and purposes. Right then, he called her a monster, cursing what he was seeing.

Nerys eyed him carefully, the word sinking in, stabbing painfully into her heart. Bastian gulped, because the woman he once knew chuckled darkly, suddenly. She gave him a cold stare and accused him back, much more menacingly.

“And why, Bastian?” His guilt came back at full force, because she raised her voice, not needing to scream to make him wince. “You sent me there… You sent me to die in those godforsaken ruins. Thanks to your doing, I am like this. You afflicted me with this curse. I am tormented, forced to see the fear I inflict when I hunt, and the pain I cause when I feed. There is no way for me to escape it, for I need to bring that misery. This bloodlust makes my veins burn, it hurts to a point you can’t imagine. If I ever struggle against it, I lose myself, posing a terrible danger for all around me. There is no choice, no way to avoid it. So don’t you dare judge me, Bastian. I did not want to surrender my humanity and life… you made me.”

He was too shocked, unable to retort. Her change and affliction were sinking into his mind, the knowledge of what happened piercing his heart. Those green eyes narrowed, and he could only shiver, because the look she gave him next was almost familiar. There was a trace of doubt in her gaze, a hint of the grace that defined her.

Nerys opened her mouth, those fangs showing as she struggled with words. Her grip loosened faintly around his neck, yet he did not dare move or look away. He still trembled, but now upon the fear of what he had done, overwhelmed by shame. When she finally spoke, she did while looking into his broken gaze, her voice sorrowful and hopeful.

“You sent me there…”

It was a question and a mournful accusation. All she wanted was his denial or admission, that he ended her painful doubt. She still hoped that ambush was a simple casualty, an accident. But that expectation was shattered, erased completely. Her sharp eyes widened when Bastian slumped in her grasp, letting out a whisper that reflected the guilt in his grey eye.

“I’m sorry, Nerys.” He paused and took a deep shaky breath, his next words striking deep. “I never wanted you to end like this. N-not like this…”

She seemed to be the one to cower now; her claw almost let go as she faltered. There was only guilt in his eyes, and she only heard a confession in his whisper. The words were rueful, and she mistook his grief for dreadful repentance.

Nerys stayed quiet for a minute, in which she pondered deeply the facts. After it, Bastian closed his eyes with a fearful intake of breath, feeling the claw around his neck pressure once more, very slowly. His whole body trembled when he heard her growl, lose herself in her anger. She leaned close again, without second thoughts, finally sure of his intentions.

“You… This is all your fault.”  He huffed when her other claw grabbed the chain and pulled fiercely, to bring him closer. “Look at me when I speak.”

Bastian obeyed reluctantly, opening both his eyes, even if one was blind. He barely could see Nerys now, and not because of his loss of sight. In front of him stood the very same lord he saw stride through the fire, as dangerous and malevolent. She spoke in growls, this time not ashamed of inflicting fear. She was pleased to see it in him, her words all ever bitter.

“I could kill you, so easily… But I won’t.” Bastian cried silently while she shook her head grimly, snarling the next words. “Even if you suffered the most painful of deaths, it would never come close to the misery I endured. You don’t deserve to die and have a quick way out, because I was not given such indulgence. I had to see my body twist into what it is now, and the changes have never stopped hurting. Many have died to satiate my horrible hunger, a bloodlust that never fades. Living is torturous… so, I’ll make you spend the rest of your miserable life here. You will feel a pathetic imitation of the hunger I suffer. And while you keep on by a thread, you will satiate my thirst. There is no one more adequate to feed on, for you made me crave blood. I will make you feel as dead as I am inside.”

While she whispered threateningly, she kept a choking hold on him. Only when she finished her declaration did he manage to speak.

“N-ner-“

Bastian did not finish, hissing in pain instead. Her left claw pulled at his chains, making his arms outstretch sideways and downwards, so strongly that he was not able to move them again. Meanwhile, her right claw let go of his throat to lean his head forcefully, opposing the direction in which she pinned his arms. With those actions, his neck was exposed. Even though he was no longer being choked, she made sure to hint she wanted to hurt him with her next hateful words.

“Do not call my name.” He had backstabbed her, in cold blood. “I don’t want to hear it again from you, not even in your cries of pain.”

He tried to struggle, gasping, understanding her intentions. Sadly, he could not stand upright and stop leaning to his left, her strength unnatural and fierce. Even without that chain that kept his hands down, she would surely overpower him. Any vampire would manage, but she was much stronger than any he had encountered. No matter how he tried to move away, she was unfazed. He saw how her green eyes narrowed, a feral gaze overtaking her expression. He instinctively yelled, knowing all too well what was to come.

“D-don’t-!” He could not plead to her reason, for she dashed, her fangs all ever sharp. “Ah!”

Bastian froze, feeling fangs sink into his flesh, for the first time in his life. It was a horrible sensation, dazing. His skin was torn, far too easily. It was something that made him tremble silently, his expression lost and shocked. His eyes were wide, tears falling from them. Soon he recognized the warm but painful sensation on his neck, blood pouring out from it. Not a single drop was falling to the ground, which he was being forced to stare at, Nerys’ hold all too firm to defy.

Now he understood why many were paralyzed when fed upon, something he had only heard about or seen, never felt. The pain flowed strongly from his neck, the fierce bite shocking him all through. He could feel how the blood rushed out, with each terrified pulse of his heart.

Nerys did not stop, not even when Bastian’s breaths became laboured, his heartbeat rapid due to blood loss. Eventually, she felt him go limp, his legs swaying under him. Though he was still conscious, his struggles were gone; he only quivered faintly.

She held him easily against herself, her claws and teeth keeping a tight grip on him. He seemed to weight even less than what she remembered. Soon, her clutch relaxed slightly, knowing she did not need to apply force anymore. She let his head lean against the palm of her right claw, while her left one let go of the chain to grasp his side.

That hold was the only thing that prevented him from sliding down to the ground. His gaze soon unfocused, his eyes lidded and tired. She closed her eyes, hearing him let out a long exhale. A frown grew on her face, for she noted his quick heartbeat on her fangs, his skin cold against her claws.

She kept drinking his blood for another minute, but then, she finally battled her instincts. Part of her did not want to let go, feral and malicious, but her soul wished to be lenient. And so, she snarled and prevented herself from ending him, halting at last.

Bastian did not react at all when she stopped feeding on him, for he had fainted due to blood loss and shock. Her fangs pulled out from his neck, while her claws moved away abruptly. She showed no care as he crumbled down onto the floor; the only thing she did was brush a droplet of blood on her jaw, while glaring at his figure.

She stared at him for a full minute, her own breath fast and heaved. His blood had intensified her senses, made her feel alive. The only thing she could hear was his heartbeat, which was tempting and alluring, right there at her feet.

Nerys closed her eyes and took a deep breath, pushing her feral instincts away. She could not take more blood right now, for that would kill him. His death was not something she wanted, even if she did not want to admit it.

It is enough…

The jailor did not say a word when the door of the cell was slammed open. He hinted worry in his jade eyes, for his sire hurried out, not facing him as she commanded.

“Look out for that bleeding.”

The guard nodded, not questioning Nerys as she walked away through the dark corridor. She left with a haunted gaze, afraid of herself.