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The Vampire and The Addams

Reborn as the oldest vampire in existence, Vlad Dracul wakes in his coffin. Body weak, mind in disarray, descending into madness, only to find solace in the mind of a young Wednesday Addams. Disclaimer: I only own my OCs, everything else belongs to those who came first. (https://www.patreon.com/TheGreatestHunter), but only if you would like to support my work, and maybe get to know me, a little.

hunterxxhunter2011 · TV
Classificações insuficientes
48 Chs

Satisfaction

The fights are a closed community. Heavily monitored, regulated, and organized.

Vlad and Wednesday, were not invited.

However, that was nothing that a small wave of mental compulsion sent throughout the crowd and the disabling of electronics did not solve.

Vlad watched as Wednesday stepped forward.

Her body garbed in the all black apparel that he pulled out from nowhere for her to wear.

His anticipation heightened.

He knew she was a capable swordswoman.

Not in the realm of his mother, but capable enough.

That, added to the heightened physical and mental capabilities that his blood provided, he knew she would be okay...and if she wasn't, as long as he had an inch to work with, he could cover that distance in an instant.

"Come to watch your descendant, Goody?" He spoke to the distinct spirit that he could feel on his side.

Her presence could not be seen with the eyes, due to her not being fully on the same plane, however if he chose to, he could see her.

She seemed just as excited as Wednesday.

Her face showing the same happy smile that one would get when given their favorite gift.

"You are taking an active role in her combat training?" She asked, sounding more excited than he felt the dead should be capable of, especially for one who had no interest in living.

"I have already deduced the series of events that are likely to take place. The poisoned flower will resurrect the hate-filled pilgrim and Wednesday will have to fight both of them along with the dog that only knows how to mutilate the weak. She needs to be ready, if she cannot solve it beforehand." He turned his attention away from Wednesday, though he could still perceive everything in his surroundings, and put his eyes on Goody. "My blood will have an affect on her psychic abilities. She will be able to perceive you on her own, soon enough. You wish to delay her, just long enough for the pilgrim to be revived, so your mistake can be put down for good." He turned fully towards her, his eyes vampiric. "You know, I am quite tempted to just pull your soul over to this side, so you can solve the problem that you created."

She looked over at him, with an expression absent of fear.

"You will not do it." She stated.

A slight smirk played on his lips.

"How can you be sure?"

She turned to face him, just as he did her.

"Because you care for her fun."

After a few seconds, they turned away from each other.

"My offer still stands. Should you decide to take it. The "outcasts" as they are called, could use come guidance and there are probably very few who would fight for them as you do. Eventually, they will fall under me, whether knowingly or unknowingly, however I have never been one to take a hands on approach when it comes to those who follow my lead. I prefer to leave that to my fingers. My loyal ones. Someone needs to dictate the "outcasts". Why not you?"

He could see her contemplation and hesitation.

He knew Wednesday would never take a hands-on approach when it came to dictating the actions of others. She would only lead by example, as she moved forward, taking along those who could keep up. She would hold no hands. Enid was also an option that crossed his mind. A very good one. But she still had her own sense of self to conquer, before she could be the alpha she was born to be.

"I...I cannot. My time has passe..."

"Goody, do not forgot who you are speaking to. You come from a time when my name still echoed through the world. I know you know the legend of Vlad The Second. I was already history, before you born. Your time, cannot be passed, as long as those elder to you, still walk this plane. Stop with your excuses. You are ashamed. That is all there is to it. Decisions you made in hate have led to your descendant being put in danger. However, that hate has been buried, along with your revenge. It is no longer your battle. It is hers. If you want to finish what you started, which is creating a safe environment for those you consider your people, then you cannot do that, from beyond the grave. Decide. Though, you have time. For now, we watched our loved one, battle."

Wednesday watched as her opposition made their way into the circular enclosure. One had a sword of their own. He appeared to be a vampire. The other, based on the scales adorning their exposed upper body, was a siren. They both moved with the comfortable stability that can only be developed by those who know their bodies and have perfected their coordination.

She had the thought that perhaps she should take it slow. In order to acclimate to her new strength and speed that she could feel coursing through her body. However, as she walked into the enclosure, she felt as if her body and mind were more in sync that they had ever been. Her coordination, practically assured, in a way that could not be achieved before.

She moved the sword given to her by her...by Vlad, around her body. Getting a feel for the blade that felt like it was made for her hands. He said it was his mother's. He had never truly spoken of her. Only when he described her beauty and his love for her, but never had he mentioned her combat prowess. There was likely a story behind why. Perhaps, she fell on the battlefield? Wednesday could not help but acknowledge the fact that she knew very little about the true history of her Vlad. She would need to ask...later.

A free for all.

That was the only description that could be used to describe the type of battle that the three engaged in.

They met in the center.

Wednesday did not wait for her opponents to make the first moves.

As soon as they got within reach, she threw a feint towards the siren, who took a step back, only to continue her motion in a round swipe of her sword to her other side, where blade met blade.

She had never been the type to attempt to over power others when it came to combat. She did not have the body for it. However, when her sword met the vamps, she noted the slight give in his knees as they buckled. It seemed she was not the only one unprepared for her strength.

Her mind moved quickly in an attempt to capitalize on her opponents broken stance, instantly raising her foot in a front kick to his knee, that brought her opposite down to one leg. Just when she was about to bring a knee to his face and break their sword lock, she heard the steps coming from behind her. She scrapped her sword down and back, as she crouched and looked to her back at the siren attempting to strike her back, however she was quicker. Ducking under his swing, she continued her swing backwards, as her hips turned toward her new challenger and dragged her blade through his thighs. The vampire was already up, and bringing his blade across the fallen sirens neck. His sword was lowered after the strike, and before he could raise it to recover from the swipe, she changed her grip and hurled her sword forward at a speed that eclipsed any she had ever achieved and watched as it embedded itself deep into the vamps upper chest, just before his sword could swipe the space it just passed.

She watched as he fell to his knees. Her mind that had been hyper-focused and running at speeds that she could not acknowledge in the moment, calming down.

The adrenaline, slowing, allowing her to contemplate the battle she was just in.

It was her first time in a fight to the death. It was over so fast. Each of them striking with no hesitation and no intention to waste a single move. A deadly dance.

She saw the vampire sag down and fall forward. His body only being held up by the blade in his chest.

She walked forward, however before she got too close, she reared back and punted the vamps head as it snapped back and he fell onto his back, sword still in hand, as he let out a grunt in pain. Her perception allowing her to note that, despite him seemingly falling forward, dead, his grip was still tight around the handle of his blade.

Before the vamp could recover, she rushed forward and placed her boot onto the wrist connected to the hand holding the sword, and reached down and yanked the blade free. Blood spurting out, coating her face. With no hesitation, she plunged it forward, aiming directly for the vamps heart, with the silver blade. However, before it could strike true, a hand gripped her wrist. One that she instantly recognized.

She swung her head to her Vlad, eyes wide. Questioning why he stopped her. However, the question vanished from her mind when she saw his eyes. They were.....stern. She had never seen that look in his eyes. As if he were commanding her. Dominating her. Dictating her.

He reached forward with his free hand and took the sword from her hand. His hand loosening from her wrist and traced down to her hand, providing an immediate sensation of warmth.

The bloodlust that had been building inside of her, settled.

"The blade," he began, "it will test the will of its wielder. It has tasted more blood than many a blade can claim. If you let it, it will influence you." He told her. Her mind acknowledging the ruthlessness at the very end that was mostly uncharacteristic of her, in this setting, where she had no real enemies, and death was not necessary.

She calmed her mind and her pounding heart.

A wide smile spread across her face, as she saw the slight smile spread on his.

"That was fun." She stated, stepping off the fallen vamp, and moving toward him. However, just as she stepped off the vamp, its arm sprung forward, attempting to slice into her.

Faster than she could comprehend beyond a barely discernible blur, the arm of the vampire went still and then slid off its shoulder, followed by the head that slowly fell away from the neck. She looked to sword held in Vlad's hand. She did not even see it move. The hand that held her hand, betrayed no motion. It was steady throughout each strike. He was precise. His movements efficient. She thought her and her opponents were controlled in their movements. She now knew, she had a long way to go, if she wanted to match her attractive monster.

She reached forward, her eyes on his, and took the blade from his hand.

She knew he was correct, however she also knew that she truly wanted to conquer the blade. If she could fight without the sword affecting her, that would mean that her mind were truly her own. Unable to be influenced, at least by the sword. She could not accept anything less.

He did not try to stop her.

She knew the weapon was now hers.

Once was his mother's. Now, it was hers. A great sword, sharper than any she had seen. It would be a weapon she would carry with her always. Along with having him teach her how to properly wield it. She could tell just from those two swings alone that he was more skilled than her father or any other member of her family. He could take her game to another level. A level that would allow her to surpass her mother, perhaps.

He smiled at her and pulled her forward by her hand.

She looked up at him. Her face still covered in blood. Not that he seemed to mind.

He leaned forward and took her lips. His tongue working with a flexibility that should not be possible. Wednesday could not help but think about how she would do dangerous things in order to hold on to the feeling she got when he held her in his arms. She was beginning to better understand her parents. The thought would have repulsed her...if she were not distracted by his talented tongue. She should learn that too.

He pulled back.

Her adrenaline and endorphins from the battle still coating her mind and body, coupled with his invasion of her mouth. Her control was waning. She was being influenced by in a different way than the heightened bloodlust brought on by his sword. His sword. His other sword. What type of influence... She stopped her thoughts, taking note of her surroundings. It was only then that she noticed that there had been no sound around her for a very long time. She didn't notice during her fight, or when she was being influenced by him, however she could not help but acknowledge the eerie silence. She looked around. Her eyes scanning the crowd. The unmoving crowd. The unblinking crowd. The frozen crowd. Oh.

No point in thinking about it.

She looked at the source of the silence and felt her eye twitch at the pleased expression on his face. He knew she only just found out. Irksome.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and felt her own sense of pleasure at the slight widening of his eyes. She greatly enjoyed the feeling of being able to surprise him. There was something fulfilling about it.

"Take me to my room. I need to shower." She asked/demanded.

He donned a small smile and wrapped his arms around her right back and then, he leaned forward, his lips met hers, as she fell backwards. She felt her heart skip a beat at the sensation of falling backwards, however she did not let her arms leave his waist. She knew, he would not hurt her.

When her eyes opened once more, they were back in dorm room.

Enid not yet back.

Her front splattered with blood.

She was not sure she had ever felt better. Freer. She had fought and won. She did not realize just how much she needed that. She would never admit it, but she required the fight. Ever since she saw "the dog" as Vlad called it, she had a feeling of unpreparedness. She was not sure how exactly to fight it. She knew she meet it in battle and her would swing, however she was not sure if she would win. She now had an avenue to ensure her victory. A way to become truly deadly. It excited her. Many things were beginning to excite her.

She looked into the eyes of Vlad. She wondered what he would show her next. It was a new feeling, but not unwelcomed. Not in the least.

She knew she should feel disgusted with herself. The person she was, would. However, the person she was had always been tested by Vlad. He knew her mind in a way no one else did, before she had ever even seen him. Now, she was quite certain, based on the way it felt when he touched, when he kissed, that he knew her body as well in a way no one else did, or probably would. Her mother could never know.

Though....she did acknowledge that she did have questions. Questions her mother could and most certainly would answer. She would answer and she would love every single minute of rubbing it in her face. That she was no different from her. She could not give her the satisfaction.

Perhaps Enid could be useful in answering her questions.