DARK DESIRES

Foreward: this is the other end of the scale: the proof that the Children of Vangual can stuggle against the will of the Great Corrupter. There is still hope, if only a fragile shard, but it's still there. Goodness can be found in the most unlikely places - even in vampires.

The boy lay staring wide-eyed into darkness. He could barely move. The ropes that bound him dug painfully into his wrists and the gag at his mouth prevented him from crying out. He could just make out the shape of an old man as he paced back and forth through the shadows. He did not know how he had come to be trapped in a tiny shack in the middle of nowhere; the last hours were a blur. He had been running home from playing in the town-square with his friends…

Then this!

He writhed as fear rose in his throat. His neck throbbed painfully and his head swam.

"Not long now, my young friend," the old man muttered gruffly. As if sensing his unrest, he came closer, reaching out a pale finger and placing it upon his lips. He smelled strange, of death and the grave. "We'll soon put you to rest."

Then he came closer, his eyes twin embers of lecherous crimson where his pupils should be.

"Stand up," he commanded. The boy tried to look away, tried to avoid his gaze, but he was drawn back to the old man's eyes; drawn into their flaming depths. He could not look away. His will drained, he found himself on his feet.

"Stand still," the old man said. The boy did as he was told. The other turned him around and deftly split his bonds with a claw-like fingernail, freeing his hands. He lifted one of the boy's arms, running his fingers lightly across his warm flesh.

"So pale, so smooth," he muttered. The boy screamed inwardly as he felt the freezing chill of contact pass between them. He could not scream; the eyes prevented him from speaking, or even moving.

Instead, he watched as the old man sunk his teeth deep into his wrist.

White-hot agony lanced through him, yet the eyes continued to burn in his mind. He knew he should be screaming, crying out and fighting for his life. But he could not. The eyes were his absolute master and they commanded him to be still.

So he stood there, listening to the slurping as the old man drank of his blood.

But suddenly, they were not alone. The boy gazed across the shack to the tiny window.

Standing, limned in the pale moonlight was a figure. Almost invisible in the darkness, the figure stood motionless, watching.

Realising something was amiss, the old man lifted his head and followed his eyes.

There was a moment of absolute silence, and perhaps recognition between the old man and the stranger. Then the old man hissed, and turned quickly back to the boy. "Do not move," he commanded, his eyes blazing. With that he turned, and with a low growl, moved across the room to the window.

"This is wrong," he snarled to the stranger. "You should not be here, traitor."

Faster than the eye could see, the stranger moved forward, flipping through the air in a blur of agility and darkness. He took hold of the old man and cast him across the shack where he crunched loudly against the flimsy wall.

But the fight was not yet over. The boy watched as the stranger and the old man fought, exchanging blows faster than his eyes could follow. The old man attacked with claws and hissing venom, yet the other took hold of his wrists with one hand and withdrew a shining knife from within the folds of his robe with the other. In a single fluid motion, the stranger plunged the gleaming blade into the old man's chest. Light of every color coruscated around the two figures, filling the room with brilliance.

The old man screamed aloud a high-pitched shriek of defeat and terror, "Noooooooo!"

Then he was gone. Even before the stranger had withdrawn the knife and returned it to his robe, the old man was defeated, turning to dust before his eyes. The stranger did not stop. He turned and walked to the wooden door. There he risked one last look back at the boy, who suddenly understood.

"Marik?" he said, his voice trembling. "I. I thought you were…?"

"Dead?" his brother replied emotionlessly. "I am. But I am still here for you. Whenever you need me, I will be there."

With that, he vanished into the night, a blur of shadow against the growing darkness of midnight.