Participate.

As Vlad sat on the roof of the antique shop across from the celebration of the memorialization of an individual that literally rallied the ignorant to burn the innocent, he could not help but be reminded of his own past.

The way the ones left standing in the end wrote the narrative.

The way they made him out to be like his father. A beast that could not differentiate between the man and the animal.

Now, Vlad never claimed to be a good person. He never actually claimed to be a person at all. In his youth, as The Prince, he saw himself above others. Above the world. That is the main reason he had to put his father down in the first place. The man had fallen into the depths of depravity. Munching on the bodies of children with no control. Just because they crossed his path when he was hungry. Vlad's pride could not tolerate the sight of his once proud father reduced to an instinct driven beast. The him, that knew not of mental health practices or therapy, had no choice but to put him down.

That might be why, as he sat on that roof, watching the celebration, with his mind and outlook far more balanced than it was in the past, due to his merging, he could not help but think about what could have been done differently.

Revenge was always a must. He and his father would have still hunted all those who hunted them to the very last man, woman, and child. They did not leave enemies, potential or otherwise.

However, looking back, there were many instances that he could see where his father showed signs of severe mental instability. The very fact that he never allowed himself to mourn the passing of his love, the most glaring.

*Boom*

As he watched the statue celebrating the colonizing, genocidal pilgrim, go up in flames, he smiled. Once again reminded of how similar he and Wednesday are. She did not need to set the statue ablaze. She could have just believed in "a better tomorrow", or some other positive outlook coming from celebrating a false past, but that's not who she is, or who he is.

Now, Vlad has enemies throughout the world.

Known enemies.

And instead of going to do what he knows he should, he was sitting across from Wednesday playing a harmony to match the panicking crowd. He trusts his loyal one to handle the task, however not taking the lives of those who cross him with his own hand, is new. Everything about his current actions were new.

Perhaps, it was due to him drawing similarities and being nostalgic about his glorious past that he was getting the incredibly strong urge to go hunt his prey himself.

The hunt for Wednesday was nearly done, no matter how serial killery that sounded, he knew he loved the hunt. However, Wednesday already knew him, just as he knew her. That makes it so that his only reason for still being in the town or at the academy, was just to be in her presence.

It was difficult to justify not hunting his prey, just to watch her closely. He needed blood. Not to drink, but to spill. Perhaps, there was a way to get them both what they wanted. The two sides of him.

"We're going somewhere." Vlad spoke to the seated Wednesday.

"Eeepp! Drac, you have got to stop just popping in here." Enid spoke from her side of the room as she tried to figure out what to wear on her date with snake head.

"Please, call me Vlad, Enid." Vlad said, as he turned to take in the bright, multi-colored apparel that Enid was firmly in favor of wearing. He enjoyed her presence, but her choice of clothing was a little excessive. The blonde was a pure bubble of light. Despite the sadness that he could see beneath the surface.

"Vlad?" Her interest was peaked. "Is that a nickname? Did Wednesday give it to you?" She fired off giddily, stepping up to him.

Vlad smirked. "No dearie, I'm afraid Vlad is a name that has always been and forever shall be, mine. It is a name that evokes fear and desperation into the hearts of those in the know." Vlad leaned forward slightly, "would you like to be in the know?"

Enid looked slightly afraid...but also, interested. Hmm.

*Scckkk* Wednesday slammed her fingers on her type writer and turned around.

"Stop scaring my roommate." She said, not getting up from her seat.

The smirk on Vlad's face grew into a grin, as he approached her seated position, and leaned forward placing his hands on either side of her on the arm rests. "Want to do something fun?"

He saw a ghost of a smirk play on her lips.

"As long as it does not involve threatening my roommate, what did you have in mind?"

"First of all, that was not threatening my little black-hearted beauty," he turned his head back to the watching Enid, "that was some friendly flirtation." Quicker that she could react, he placed a kiss on her lips and was pulled back before she could fully register. She looked nonplussed. He could not help but laugh out loud at the fully blushing Enid and disguised blushing Wednesday. "Second of all," he added after quieting his laughter, "I have something fun for us to do. Something that I'm certain I will like and you will love."

He held out his hand, which she took, as he pulled her up and against him.

He looked back at Enid, "aren't you going to be late?"

That got her snapped out of her thoughts and moving towards the door at a speed that should have only been possible to achieve at a run, her face still adorned with her blush.

He looked back into Wednesday's eyes as he wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest, and then he fell backwards, watching as her eyes went wide. Only, they did not meet the ground. From her perspective, the floor gave way to the darkness. One that she could not see through, however it only lasted a moment before they were falling into the light and back standing on their feet.

She looked around. They were in a forest, however the temperature was different from the one that she knew it was supposed to be.

"Where are we?" She asked, looking up at Vlad, who still held her in his arms.

"Taking in a show." He straightened his arm and from the inside of his sleeve, a blade made its way out, until the handle slid into his hand, which he handed to her.

She took it, looking over the detail of the blade.

It was a silver metal, nearly black, with a black and grey handle. It fit perfectly into her hand.

"Where did it come from? It wasn't in your sleeve a moment ago." She asked as she studied it.

If she were watching his face, she would have seen his face soften in a perceptible way.

"It was my mother's," he began. "She was born in Egypt, long before there were pharaohs to "claim" the land. She was a warrior and a healer. The heart of my family. When she passed, our hearts went with her. Mine and my father's. We descended into darkness. Him more than me, but both of us drowned in the blood of those who took her from our world. We slaughtered our enemies. Lost many friends, and had our revenge." Her eyes were now on his. "However, revenge did not bring her back. It only lost more lives. That is why, revenge is so often a wasteful endeavor." He stared into her eyes, imploringly attempting to make her understand. "Unless....you are at an absolute advantage. And the only way to do that, is to make certain, you are the hunter. Not the prey."

These are lessons one must always learn. If there is an easy way to serve your purpose, always take it. The easy way to serve Wednesday's purpose, is simply to make her capable of steamrolling the ants in her path.

"Come."

He pulled her along behind him.

Sounds coming into her ears that were once blocked out. The cheers of the crowd. Some boos. But most of all, the sounds of a battle.

They came upon a large gathering. A gathering of many different kinds and types. She saw some that looked human, some that did not, and some that were a mix in between. They were all focused on the center of the circular enclosure that they surrounded, where a group of five individuals were engaged in a fight that, based on the claws that just embedded themselves into one of the fighters, was to the death.

"This is something I came upon after taking a trip through a few peoples memories a little after I was freed. Apparently, people come from all over in order to fight in these battles, if they believe themselves to be skilled. Some fight to the death, others fight to be the last one conscious. These are low level combatants. They fight in order to take the pot. The last one standing gets the winnings and a chance to move to a more prestigious event. Are you in?"

He need not ask. The full blown smile on her face was answer enough.

"Are you participating?" She asked him.

He could not help the smug expression that he took on.

"Not at this level."

Vlad ran his nail across the underside of his wrist. "Drink."

Wednesday looked at him for a moment. The question clear in her eyes.

Then, she opened her mouth and brought his wrist over her tongue.

One drop after another spilling out onto her tongue.

He could see her pupils dilate, as she took in the taste.

He knew he tasted amazing. It was natural.

She pulled the wrist down onto her mouth. Sucking. Her tongue playing over his cut, as she sucked out as much as she could take.

One single drop would have been enough.

However, she was not the only one enjoying the experience.

He closed the cut as she stopped her sucking and took her tongue over the area until there was no blood left, and then he used his other hand to grab the back of her head at the same time that she brought her hand that was not holding the sword up to the front of his neck, squeezing, as their lips met.

He could taste his blood in her mouth, along with the sweet flavor that naturally accompanied her.

They could not be seen, nor could they hear what was going on around them, but they could feel all. They could smell the blood, sweat, and violence in the air. There senses heightened to the extreme. Wednesday had never felt more entuned with her self or her environment. She could feel her core growing tighter, as she got the urge to run her hand down beneath her stomach and handle that feeling that had plagued her since the second she first saw the man whose blood had just quickly become her favorite dish.

Vlad pulled back. His eyes displaying their full vampiric glory. His bloodlust at the highest it had been since he had awoken. He wanted nothing more than to sink his fangs into her body and taste all that she had to offer. But he knew the time was not right.

Their breaths were rugged. There eyes bleeding into one another.

"My blood," he spoke against her lips. "It has, freely given, has heightened every facet of your being. But more than that, it will also heal you." He told her, as her body was flushed up against his. He leaned forward and ran his tongue along the side of her neck, followed by a kiss to the same spot. Still sweet. "Go and fight freely, my little death."