The Death of Dracula
A long time ago in a land dark and far away...
Where the wolfs wandered freely and the night sang it's sad sweet lullaby of screams in the night. There was a prince. The prince of all princes a warrior who reveled in the defeat of his enemies. With a sadistic joy he killed those who would betray him. Although cruel he could be with little mercy for the wicked he did not lack a heart. The love of all time was his to be hold. Her eyes shown like suns when ever she looked upon him. He was her universe and she was his... As fate would have it there love and lives were short lived. It is a sad existence to know over whelming happiness and have it ripped away from you.
A storm came in one night...
Beating it hateful waves along the cliff walls far below the castle. The wind moaned and rain pounded the walls and village far below the clouds. Why of all these nights did SHE have to be out? Why HIS bride was to get caught out in that storm. But caught she was... She had thought that she would surprise her prince and adorn him with wild red roses so past the castle walls she had climbed and deep into the forest she ventured. By the time the rain had set in it had grown to dark to find her way out of the woods. When he found out that she was missing he set out for her. The horse reared as the thunder clapped, and the rain came down so heavy he thought that he might drown. He found her icy cold wet body in a small clearing. Her white gown ripped by thorns and in her pale hand she clenched blood red roses. Her breath was faint she was freezing to death slowly before his eyes. He picked her up and held her close but his love and warmth was not enough.
In the dead of the night...
He returned wet and shivering clutching his bride. Away he took her to the depths of the castle. He would not be disturbed for days and days. Many of the servants thought that he had either gone mad down there or died him self. It wouldn't be until the 12th night that he sent for something that could ruin him. Clocked in darkness arrived a women. If she where found out to be in the castle not only would she herself be in danger but all those that consorted with her. The dark arts where not kindly looked upon. Surrounded in the warmth of white candle light her knelt before the stone platform that held his love. Still perfectly preserved by the icy cold castle depths. Tears would no longer come he was weak and his body had expelled all they could. In words no mortal had ever heard before the women chanted while spilling the salts of the earth around his lost love's corpse. He prayed to god, or gods, or to the death it self to any thing that would bring her back to him. As the flames of the candles began to grow bright and flicked and dance there was a horrible clatter at the door far above.
Prince or no, a man, a priest is loyal only to God...
The Clergy had some how heard of his summons for the out cast woman, and it is assured the village in a scared frenzy had stormed the castle. The barricaded door would not stop them for long. As he turned back his attention to his bride he noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye. Her foot twitched... It was working! The life just as slowly as it had drained out of her was flowing back in to her. He wrapped her up in his arms and cried out with joy. Just then the door burst and the candles blew out. It seemed like an eternity there in the dark that he never wanted to end. Just her in his arms her heart beating once again no matter how faint. The light came, like the flames of hell. With in moments they where surrounded by a mob lead by Gods dispels. An act of blasphemy they shouted. Damnation they called his bride. And yet again he was too late and too weak to save her from her second death. She hadn't even regain consciousness yet. But to see her head severed from her body and feel her blood run down his face was worse then watching her die the first time.
In the Seconds that followed...
His wrath would be great, greater would be his vengeance that any other. The sons and daughters of those who took her from him would be punished for all eternity. He swore his soul to be able to taste there death like a fine wine. And that powers that be, having granted him the life of his bride and seeing it taken away instead gave ever lasting life to him, that which could not be taken away. The priest put the steal of a cursader's sword through his heart. But on the following night of the 13th day past his loves death he rose, and carried all the fury and power of the after life with him...
By Amanda
Where the wolfs wandered freely and the night sang it's sad sweet lullaby of screams in the night. There was a prince. The prince of all princes a warrior who reveled in the defeat of his enemies. With a sadistic joy he killed those who would betray him. Although cruel he could be with little mercy for the wicked he did not lack a heart. The love of all time was his to be hold. Her eyes shown like suns when ever she looked upon him. He was her universe and she was his... As fate would have it there love and lives were short lived. It is a sad existence to know over whelming happiness and have it ripped away from you.
A storm came in one night...
Beating it hateful waves along the cliff walls far below the castle. The wind moaned and rain pounded the walls and village far below the clouds. Why of all these nights did SHE have to be out? Why HIS bride was to get caught out in that storm. But caught she was... She had thought that she would surprise her prince and adorn him with wild red roses so past the castle walls she had climbed and deep into the forest she ventured. By the time the rain had set in it had grown to dark to find her way out of the woods. When he found out that she was missing he set out for her. The horse reared as the thunder clapped, and the rain came down so heavy he thought that he might drown. He found her icy cold wet body in a small clearing. Her white gown ripped by thorns and in her pale hand she clenched blood red roses. Her breath was faint she was freezing to death slowly before his eyes. He picked her up and held her close but his love and warmth was not enough.
In the dead of the night...
He returned wet and shivering clutching his bride. Away he took her to the depths of the castle. He would not be disturbed for days and days. Many of the servants thought that he had either gone mad down there or died him self. It wouldn't be until the 12th night that he sent for something that could ruin him. Clocked in darkness arrived a women. If she where found out to be in the castle not only would she herself be in danger but all those that consorted with her. The dark arts where not kindly looked upon. Surrounded in the warmth of white candle light her knelt before the stone platform that held his love. Still perfectly preserved by the icy cold castle depths. Tears would no longer come he was weak and his body had expelled all they could. In words no mortal had ever heard before the women chanted while spilling the salts of the earth around his lost love's corpse. He prayed to god, or gods, or to the death it self to any thing that would bring her back to him. As the flames of the candles began to grow bright and flicked and dance there was a horrible clatter at the door far above.
Prince or no, a man, a priest is loyal only to God...
The Clergy had some how heard of his summons for the out cast woman, and it is assured the village in a scared frenzy had stormed the castle. The barricaded door would not stop them for long. As he turned back his attention to his bride he noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye. Her foot twitched... It was working! The life just as slowly as it had drained out of her was flowing back in to her. He wrapped her up in his arms and cried out with joy. Just then the door burst and the candles blew out. It seemed like an eternity there in the dark that he never wanted to end. Just her in his arms her heart beating once again no matter how faint. The light came, like the flames of hell. With in moments they where surrounded by a mob lead by Gods dispels. An act of blasphemy they shouted. Damnation they called his bride. And yet again he was too late and too weak to save her from her second death. She hadn't even regain consciousness yet. But to see her head severed from her body and feel her blood run down his face was worse then watching her die the first time.
In the Seconds that followed...
His wrath would be great, greater would be his vengeance that any other. The sons and daughters of those who took her from him would be punished for all eternity. He swore his soul to be able to taste there death like a fine wine. And that powers that be, having granted him the life of his bride and seeing it taken away instead gave ever lasting life to him, that which could not be taken away. The priest put the steal of a cursader's sword through his heart. But on the following night of the 13th day past his loves death he rose, and carried all the fury and power of the after life with him...
By Amanda