Chapter I . A desperate bargain

Screams of agony filled the air, the cackling of fire burning down what used to be homes of different peasants. The cries of newborns and children could be heard from a mile away, not even they were spared from the horrors in the darkness. On this night, just like many others before it, the newly turned vampires fed.

Defenseless people run Helter Skelter but barely make it past their houses before they are ambushed by the vampires feeding in the corners of the roads. These vampires were gluttonous, they attack the people, abandoning their half-drained preys.

The streets were overflowing with blood and fire. All this chaos played in the eyes of a certain crown prince who was standing at the top of a hill.

His red cloak danced with the debris wind, like an ocean on a stormy night. He was tall, slender and had sharp features that made him standout among men but this crown prince was not the man of any woman's dream, rather he was a living nightmare.

His thin lips that were a bit darker than his pale skin turned up in satisfaction. His unblinking crimson eyes brightened as his heart gladden from the enjoyment of the horror show playing down the hill.

Unlike the small army of vampire guards behind him, he didn't have a weapon. He didn't need one. His mere fingers can slit the throats of men like a knife through butter. He had unfathomable vampiric powers that could cripple the greatest men, his fangs could pierce through the thickest skins and drain men of their life forces in a matter of minutes.

He was a weapon that was used by only him. His name was Djanel, the second crown prince of the kingdom of Vitenigea, he went by several other names like Djanel the conqueror, the destroyer of empires, among other frightening titles , all of which he lived up to. The mere mentioning of his name got people shivering, some would say he was the harbinger of death.

The group of newly turned vampires that were about to wipe this small village off the map was led here by him. He was their sire, he turned all of them thus he was responsible for their first feast. He was like a proud father watching his creation bloom wickedly.

While Djanel was enjoying the scenery a strange but sweet smell reached his nose, he flared it to inhale more of the intoxicating scent that was awakening his primal desires.

He shut his eyes and smiled. Not in a million years did he expect to find his chosen in such a miserable place. He jumped down the hill, landing soundlessly and steadily on his feet. He took in a deep breath, the air was polluted but the scent of his chosen was strong, he looked straight ahead as he began to traced it.

His royal guards didn't bother to follow him because he was more of a danger than an endangered but a musician jumped down after he did, he wasn't as agile as Djanel so he lost his footings and fell on his buttocks but he quickly got up, following behind the crown prince and plucking the strings of his lute.

Djanel swung his head to the tone the musician behind was playing then he began to sing, "♪darkness looms, the weak cry, the strong thrive, night walkers thrives, joy O joy O, it is a jolly night…♪ " His voice was angelic, one would doubt that such a serine voice was coming out of the lungs of a demon.

Some newly turned tried to attack the human musician who was playing behind their sire but Djanel was quick to snap their necks passing the information that the human must not be tampered with. He kept on singing as men and newly turned vampires cowered away from him.

He finally reached the house where the scent of his chosen was strongest. It was a small hut with a thatch roof and a bloodied front yard. He entered the house without being invited in, the basic vampire restrictions rarely worked on a first-generation vampire like himself moreover, the house was not on sacred grounds.

The Insides looked disorganized and a newly turned vampire was finishing off a man. But they were other people in the house, a nursing mother whose breast milk scent was in the air and an infant.

They were hiding in the underground store of the house disguised with a fur rug. Djanel stared down at the rug, the woman was hiding in vain, every vampire from around the area can perceive her scent, she was partially bleeding and her breast milk was pouring.

The only reason she was still alive was that the newly turned wanted to finish with the man first. He formally stopped singing but started again as he encircled the rug.

The woman's heartbeat grew louder as if it wanted to bust out of her chest, she was wise not to make a sound but her pounding heart coupled with the muffled sounds her baby was making, made her hideout more of a trap.

Immediately the newly turned heard the woman's increased, terrified heartbeat he lunged at the rug but he was caught by the neck in midair by his sire. Djanel clenched his fingers tighter around the greedy newly turned, digging his sharp fingers in his flesh, causing him to bleed.

"She is mine," he declared and threw the newly turned across the room. He clapped his hands, dusting the dirt he got from strangling the newly turned but the blood stain didn't go.

"Woman, it will do you good to come out on your own otherwise I would let this hungry nakari drag you out and that might not end well for you… or your child, "he said encircling the rug.

At first, there was hesitation that made him think otherwise of the woman but just when he was about to lose his patience, the hood of the underground storage lifted and out of it came a woman with a baby in her arms.

She took careful steps backward away from Djanel who now looked stunned. Although the maiden before him was in distress, her beauty was still unearthly. He stalked closer to her but she stepped back and then fell on her knees.

"Please spare us, milord," she begged, crying as if her life depended on it, in reality, it did. She crawled further backward only to hear a growl that made her subconsciously move forward.

The newly turned that fed on her husband was behind her, and her heart again began thumping as if it was about to explode.

Djanel smiled in his heart at her pitiful situation, there was no escape. He squatted in front of her, staring closely at her peculiarities. The room was dark but his night vision was the keenest. Out of fear, the maiden seized her breath and shut her eyes awaiting her death.

The vampire prince's eyes trailed down the maiden's fair neck to her full chest, he couldn't help but lick his lips lecherously. "You want my pardon?" He asked.

The woman slowly nodded her head but refused to open her eyes afraid that it might be her last.

"Are you ready to submit your body and soul to me?" Djanel questioned again as he stroked the maiden's sweat-wet hair which made her flinch.

"I—I will do anything you ask of me, milord," she answered in a heartbeat.

"Are you willing to become my pleasure slave? To serve me with your body and your blood?" Djanel again asked but he didn't get a quick response like the last time. His eyes burned redder at the thought of being rejected by this lowborn maiden. "You may choose to reject me but remember that the repercussion is death."

"I accept."