Darkness flooded the scene, but his vision remained sharp. The baby girl was watching him, not fearful, but curious. Eyes wide, arms and legs; now free from the restraining cloth waving wildly. She smiled, giving Arthur the second indicator. Two white nubs of teeth glistend from the upper and lower jaw where the canine teeth would form, the ruby red birthmark; a back-to-front S on her cheek. Shapeshifter.
Arthur brought her back into his crypt lair and sat, crossed legged in front of her. Every now and then she moved slightly, making a mournful noise, as if in pain. Which in a very real sense it was, though nothing like that felt by him as he had not fed in two nights. Thirsty though he was, Arthur wasn't even tempted to bite the pathetic being in front of him. The child beyond innocence, invoking his pity,
He was at a loss as to what to do next.Should he leave the child alone, so he could feed and sate his own desire for blood, leaving the infant its own fate, or should he surmount his own feelings and kill the thing, solving two problems at once?
deciding to let fate decide Arthur left the crypt to feed, returning to the crypt hours later, fully expecting to find a dead infant on his care, but on entering the holy space his heart thumped once, as a faint, rhythmic noise reached his ears. A minor miracle.
Well, if it was meant to be, then it shall live.
Now fully sated on blood he unpinned his wrist cuff, bending down as he bit through the marble white skin. The aroma, hot and strong immediately filled the room, like molten iron.
She took the blood noisily. giggling at him when she finished, seeming to find something funny. He bent down, almost touching , when she grabbed his nose and pulled with surprising strength. Arthur yanked his head back instinctively, and lifted her from the ground. By all rights he should have killed the child, then half the village for this insult. He would, should not take the child from this awful place into the village. To find a home for it, but this is what he was now doing.He felt for this outcast. Perhaps because he too had been cast out from his family, only to find another, and be cast out again as a betrayer. Finally to find a third, one he could see as a father, then ripped away from him by a creature such as this.
The why didn't matter. He was doing what he felt he had to do, give this child a home. And who knows, it might even be to his benefit in the future, having a werewolf as an ally.
He came to the door of a person he knew to be kind. A middle aged peasent woman, who, despite being married, had no children of her ow. She opened the door fully when she saw it was Arthur, expression of mistrust vanishing in the light of recognition. He handed her the bundle, explaining that he had found her by the side of the road, and, knowing she and her husband were childless would like them to care for he.The woman readily agreed, pulling back the cloth from the baby's face to coo at her. If she had seen the birthmark and the small teeth she made no fuss. her reaction filling Arthur with the confidence that he had done right. He made his farewells and vanished off into the night to vent his fury.
Death and destruction held sway that night. Trees, fences and unoccupied buildings felt his wrath. Animals too, slaughtered, either on the road, or near it. People, innocent or otherwise, their bodies drained of blood, their mangled corpses thrown into the fields. Even a garrison of the Prince's army did not escape the rampage; the whole place destroyed in a fire from an overturned stove. Arthur was making a nuisance of himself, not caring while in the grip of rage. The time would come, soon, when the prince himself would have to get involved, people would demand he order an investigation to catch the culprit. A strong leader would simply refuse, despite the loss of a garrison. Why should he care. As things stood, rumor had it that a coward sat in the castle throne room. So that was something else Arthur would have to attend to before sunrise.
Impenetrable, the castle stood before him. Solid, tall, centuries old and strong as the bones of the earth. Arthur approved, what better place for a ruler, or a coward. He jumped, landing softly on a rampart behind a guard, vanishing like a ghost before the man even registered his presence. He had the scent of his prey in his nostrils now, and nothing was going to come between him and his Royal meal. He was now actively hunting.
Speeding through the corridors, keeping to the shadows he avoided the guards and castle servants, rather than kill them. His thirst was now in slumber from his overindulgence , besides which, these people would be his subjects.
So with care and speed it was not very long before the heavy iron studded double doors of the Royal suite stood before him. Arthur had expected at least four guards to be in attendance, but none stood there. Odd.
"Witches prophecy! Do your must!"
Arthur, shaking his head pushed the doors open. Tonight could have been avoided if he had come here first.
A crossbow bolt hit him in the stomach.
A loud screech of laughter from the man on the floor dressed in his bed garments "Got you! Foul demon stench!"
Arthur pulled the bolt out, turned around and shut the doors.
"You can't, you mustn't! I am the son of the Dragon! I am Dracula!!"
