C34 She Did What?

"ENOUGH!"

Vlad who finally had enough roared as black arteries and veins spread out under his white as-paper skin while his eyes turned pitch black with his black nails enlarging turning Into claws.

The 2-meter and forty centimeters tall man raised his hand and slapped his daughter with everything he had.

The resounding slap and the sound of bone shattering echoed through the grand hall of the Imperial Vampire Palace, momentarily silencing the orchestral music and hushed conversations.

Darklords Vlad's display of anger, a rare and unsettling sight, sent a ripple of shock among the gathered elite of the Vampirian society.

Isabella, undaunted by her father's outburst, stood up defiantly as her shattered neck pieced Itself back Into one piece while producing crunching noises.

Her appearance had undergone a transformation, mirroring Vlad's in its dark intensity.

Her eyes whites now echoed the abyssal black of her father's, and her pale skin was etched with the same black veins and arteries, symbolizing the potent vampiric blood coursing through her.

"Hahaha, fine, have it your way,"

Isabella declared, her voice dripping with sarcasm and defiance. She turned, her gown swirling around her as she prepared to leave.

The audience, who had been engaged in their own affairs, now found themselves captivated by the unfolding drama.

Whispers and murmurs spread like wildfire, each noble and dignitary speculating on the implications of this public confrontation between the Darklord and his daughter.

Adrian Karkaroff, now the center of attention for all the wrong reasons, stood frozen, his earlier composure shattered by Isabella's cutting remarks and Vlad's explosive reaction.

The embarrassment and confusion were evident on his face as he struggled to process the situation.

As Isabella strode away from the scene, her steps were firm and decisive, each one echoing her resolve and fierce independence.

Her departure left a palpable tension in the air, the guests exchanging glances, some in sympathy, others in concealed glee at the high drama.

Draklord Vlad, now regaining his composure, addressed the stunned audience with a voice that commanded the room.

"Let us continue the celebration. The engagement of my daughter Isabella Tepesh Dracuela and Lord Adrian Karkaroff marks a new chapter for our empire,"

He announced, trying to steer the focus back to the event because he was sure that just like every time his daughter would come back after cooling off her head.

The music resumed, and the guests slowly returned to their conversations and festivities, but the undercurrent of excitement and unease remained.

But unbeknown to Vlad a certain higher being made sure that this time Isabella wouldn't come back but set out on a wild adventure through space that would land her In Dracula's hands.

...

Isabella's fury knew no bounds as she stormed through the high-ceiling gothic corridors of the Imperial Palace guarded by death knights facing each other with their plasma-edged great swords pointing downwards.

These over 9-foot-tall death knights which were undead cybernetically augmented abominations whose rotten flesh had been fused with machinery.

And could only follow simple commands and were the vampire's standard ground unit deployed throughout the entire vampiric military.

In a fit of rage, she tore off her restrictive gothic gown, revealing a simple black bra without braces and black panties underneath, and tossed away her high heels.

Her mind was a torrent of chaotic thoughts, all screaming one thing - leave.

Driven by this overwhelming urge, Isabella made a beeline for the palace's helipads, where the Imperial space fighters responsible for the palace's air security were docked.

These sleek, deadly machines were the epitome of Vampirian engineering prowess, capable of both atmospheric and space combat.

As she approached the helipad, a vampire pilot who was tinkering with his spacecraft after seeing the approaching trouble attempted to intercept her, only to be effortlessly flung aside by Isabella's supernatural strength.

"Out of my way trash!"

Isabella roared as she flung away the vampire pilot who was ten times her age but because of his diluted vampiric blood was no better than a 100-year-old pure blood.

Without hesitation, she leaped into the cockpit of the nearest space fighter, her hands moving with practiced ease over the holographic controls.

The fighter's engines hummed to life, the screens and dials illuminating the cockpit's interior with an eerie glow.

Isabella, with a deft touch, steered the craft into the air, her eyes cold and focused.

As she ascended, Isabella's anger found a new target – a grand statue of her father, Darklord Vlad Tepesh Dracuela the "Impaler", which stood imposingly on the palace grounds.

She powered up the space fighters plasma cannons, the weapons charging with a whine that grew in intensity.

With a furious cry, she unleashed a barrage of green plasma bolts towards the statue.

The bolts struck with explosive force, each impact chipping away at the stone until, finally, the statue cracked and broke in half.

"Go f*ck yourself c*nt!"

Isabella shouted, her voice a mix of triumph and bitterness.

She raised her middle finger in a defiant gesture toward the remains of the statue, a symbolic rejection of her father's authority and the constraints it represented.

Pushing the pulse thrusters to their maximum, Isabella propelled the space fighter upwards, breaking through the atmosphere with a burst of speed that left a trail of ionized air in her wake leaving behind the Arctic planet full of snow, glazers, and bone-chilling temperature.

She glanced at the holographic navigation console, her fingers moving rapidly to input a random set of coordinates that kept appearing In her subconscious mind into the subspace jump engine.

As the engine charged, Isabella felt a rush of exhilaration mixed with uncertainty. Where would these coordinates take her? It didn't matter.

Anywhere was better than here, under the shadow of her father's oppressive rule.

With a final glance at the planet she was leaving behind, Isabella pressed the jump button.

The space around the fighter warped and twisted, and in a blink, the craft disappeared from existence, leaving behind the turmoil of the Imperial Palace and embarking on an unknown journey across the stars.

...

In the grandeur of the Imperial Palace, Darklord Vlad Tepesh Dracuela, presided over the remnants of the engagement party, now marred by the recent outburst.

The atmosphere was tense, with whispers and uneasy glances exchanged among the nobility and dignitaries.

The air of celebration had been replaced by a palpable sense of uncertainty.

Suddenly, a Vampirian officer, clad in his military uniform and visibly anxious, approached Vlad.

His approach caught the attention of the gathered crowd, their conversations ceasing as they anticipated important news.

"Your unholiness,"

The officer began, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

"I have urgent news regarding her dark heiress Isabella."

Vlad, his features a mask of regal composure, turned to face the officer, his eyes like dark voids that promised retribution for any displeasure.

"Speak,"

He commanded, his voice resonating with a power that had commanded legions and quelled rebellions.

The officer swallowed hard, aware that he was the bearer of news that would not be well received.

"Your unholiness, dark heiress Isabella... she has hijacked a space fighter from the palace's helipad. She... she destroyed your statue in the process and has... escaped."

The words hung in the air like a dark cloud. A murmur ran through the crowd, a mix of shock and disbelief.

Vlad's expression, previously controlled and imposing, shifted subtly. A flicker of anger, quick and dangerous, flashed in his eyes.

"She did what?"

Vlad's voice was low, yet it carried an edge sharper than any blade.

The officer, maintaining his stance despite the growing fear, continued,

"She destroyed the statue, Your unholiness. The one in the central courtyard. And then she fled the planet. Her destination is unknown, my men are trying to pinpoint her location as we speak"

Vlad stood motionless for a moment, his mind processing the implications of his daughter's actions.

The destroyed statue was not just a symbol of his rule, but of the legacy he sought to build. Isabella's defiance was more than a personal affront; it was a challenge to his authority.

Turning slowly to face the crowd, Vlad addressed them, his voice a calm yet ominous rumble.

"My daughter's actions tonight are regrettable. But let it be known that she is still of royal blood, and any actions against her will be considered actions against the crown."

He paused, allowing his words to sink in.

"However,"

He continued, his gaze sweeping across the room.

"Her reckless behavior will not be tolerated. She will be found and brought back to face the consequences of her actions."

As he spoke, the air in the room seemed to grow colder, the weight of his words settling heavily upon the shoulders of everyone present.

"I don't care If you have to mobilize all of our fleets I want my daughter found and brought back, NOW!"."

Vlad roared as he did every vampire noble, officer, and dignatary scattered like flies ready to fulfill the Darklord's order.