His

He's always in my dreams nowadays, His dead eyes staring into mine. I always wake in a panic, with the unmistakable feeling that He is my fate. I stare into the polished metal mirror as I clad myself in a flowing dress, expect to see Him behind me, and shudder with dread. I know what He is as in my dreams there is always the smell of ages and blood. The weight of time that colours His aura I can understand, we elves don't die of old age after all, but it is the iron stench of blood that proclaims Him to be a vampire, likely one of the first in the world.

My last day passes in a daze, my thoughts always returning to my tormentor. As night falls I venture into the sprawling garden surrounding the palace, my wandering feet bring me to a ruined castle that had once been the seat of my family. I shiver as I look at the moss-covered walls, the smashed towers, and can almost hear the sounds of ancient battle on the wind. I step into the courtyard, nimbly avoid the nettles growing between the cracked stones, and am drawn towards the entrance to the cellar.

Even now there is patches of dried blood on the stone, the cellars were where the battle reached its conclusion and saw the heaviest fighting. I descend into the gloom, navigating more by His summons than anything else, and come to a halt in front of a solid wall of rock. It moves when I put a hand on it, the ground rumbles as it slides to one side, and I finally see Him in the flesh. He is seated upon a throne and around His legs are tastefully placed the bodies of female elves still wearing their finest dresses. A spark of fear flashes through me as I recognize the withered features of one, an aunt who went missing a century ago, and my gaze slowly lifts until He and i are staring at each other. i can feel myself walking towards Him as He rises from His throne, can hear the false wall seal behind me.

His arms fold around me, pull me against His chest, and i gasp as He grips my hair, pulls my head back to expose my throat. The pulse of His pet throbs in her neck as He watches, as she falls deeper under His control. she is spun round, feels Him take a firm grip on her chin, and then her world explodes into a white light as He sinks His fangs into His pet’s neck, drinks her essence with such force that she is gone in a single feeding. In His embrace her flesh pales, her eyes dull, and she slithers bonelessly to the earthen floor when He finally releases her.

With a satisfied moan He picks up the corpse and turns to face His throne. His other victims look on as He arranges their new sister among them, her head positioned to rest against His knee when He sits. Already though she is forgotten, His mind reaching out to touch those of his daughters and nieces in the world above, seeking the next who will be His next meal.