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Description
Reginald groaned in the shadowed corner of the room, chained upright to the wall nearest the fireplace by his sire to ensure he did not fall onto the sunlit floor. He was still too fresh to realize what had happened, too weak to sleep on the ceiling, and definitely not skilled enough to blot out the harmful effects of the sun through alchemical or other means. His sire Samuel barely knew what to do with him or the other three captives, keeping them in that chamber and waiting for moonrise to enter and inspect those he had accidentally infected when that damned hunter had injured him during the ball. Blood flying everywhere as he slaughtered the man, how could Samuel know his own was among the crimson fountains being released that night, bathing the ballroom and all the corpses of the witnesses to his retaliation? Corpses under which four teens had foolishly decided to hide under thinking it would be safe, their salvation from the massacre. They had covered themselves with death and shit and blood as they hid, letting it soak into them as they tried to remain motionless, the stench causing them to pass out even until he found them whilst moving the bodies to the pyre he started. They had been feverish and starting to shake, groaning, vomiting, exhibiting the first signs of the infection. So now Samuel waited for Reginald and the others to show a sign that they were ready, that they had survived and were worthy of becoming trained by him.

The sun had taken what felt like ages to set, the chains holding the four slowly being slacked from the walls by some hidden mechanism, allowing them to try to stagger and stand on their own two feet. Reginald looked at Mary, smiling faintly that so far they had survived, thinking perhaps that the two could run away, find some hidden woods and build a cottage to live out their fearful days. Mary smiled back, shaking with the same hunger and thirst that he now felt.
"Reginald... Look!" Mary now pointed at Bartholomew, one of the kitchen boys who had smuggled them pastries during the ball, eating the delicacies alongside them under the table with the fourth captive, the darling debutant Allison Grey. Her lifeless body hung limply in Bartholomew's hands, clearly not surviving whatever sickness had washed over them as she did not even react as the lad tore into her neck, sucking at her veins as they only dribbled a black ooze from the lack of a beating heart. Reginald yelped loudly and Bartholomew turned, black ooze and drool on his lips and chin, mouth wide and hissing at them, fanged teeth dripping blood. As Bartholomew went back to his new form of sustenance, the other two surviving captives shuddered in revulsion and growing hunger.

"It's your idea, you do it!" Reginald cried out, passing the fire poker to Mary, who merely scowled and passed it back while his heart raced with fear. He had thought it would be still, given his current condition and all the tales he had heard, but it only hammered on more as Mary pointed at Bartholomew.
"You're the man! It's your duty to protect me you ninny!" She spat back, eyes going wide as Bartholomew looked back at them, shuddering and hissing before returning to the lifeless Allison. Reginald gulped, hands shaking as he quickly thrust the poker forward, sticking it into Bartholmew's back deeply, but not deep enough. The newly turned vampire dropped Allison and spun around roaring, lunging at Reginald with a savage fury. The chain, however, had only been slacked enough to allow them movement to the center of the room, not for such absurd motion. Bartholomew was pulled back short, the handle to the poker hitting the ground and driving it through his chest, piercing his heart. His final pained expression twisted his already rage-warped face into a terrible grimace which held even after death. Reginald, weak from the infection and now this exertion was was too tired to even move forward to try to close the vampire's eyes, but still felt his fangs start extending at the sight of fresh blood. "He's... He's not turning to dust." Mary said, staring at Bartholomew for the moment, licking her own fangs slowly. The door swung open and the vampire that had slaughtered the ballroom looked at both of them, then turned and left. Shortly, the two felt their chains shorten again while Allison and Bartholomew's corpses remained near the center of the room. Reginald looked at Allison who stared at the corpses and promptly leaned against the wall, struggling to stay awake. He, however, let himself succumb to sleep.

Reginald cringed and wrinkled his nose at the stench that awoke him, groggily opening his eyes and then blinking. The corpses of Bartholomew and Allison were flaking off their skin in chunks as the rising sun landed upon them, alighting their flesh and causing a noxious odor that made him want to vomit again. He felt nothing come up, however, as there was nothing in his stomach left to expel. He looked at Mary, gulping, shaking as much if not more than she, feeling the pangs of hunger, the craving to have his thirst sated.
"You know what we are now... Monsters."
"Yes." Mary replied, licking her lips and cringing. "Reginald... I'm scared."
"Me too. Me too." The rest of the remains crumbled to ash and bone, the poker falling to the floor with a clatter that felt almost deafening. Reginald eyed it, trying to use a leg to draw it closer but having neither the flexibility nor range. "When the sun sets again... Let us both prepare to fight back against the scum that cursed us. All right?" Mary just nodded, eying the poker, tears streaming down her face.

When the door finally opened, Reginald held the poker high, crouched behind it while Mary held a shaking scoop in her hands opposite him. The vampire entered the room slowly, looking around and spying the directions that the chains went and smirking, stepping boldly forward. As the two teens swung their weapons, he reached out his hands to grasp them, pulling the two sirelings forward from their hiding places in the process.
"I'm rather disappointed in you both for such a cheap ploy... Perhaps neither of you is worthy." The vampire said, drawing Reginald closer, leaning down, bringing his fangs toward the lad's neck. Suddenly his back arched, eyes wide as the broken femur Mary had hidden in her sleeve was driven into the vampire's chest. He looked down, releasing the fireplace tools and reaching to pull it out, but she twisted it, driving it further, piercing his heart. He gasped and backhanded them both away, trying to clutch at it again, but his hands curled while he spasmed in his death throws, blood pumping out of the wound and into his luxurious attire. His corpse fell to the center of the room, just like Bartholomew's, mirroring it with his back on the floor. Reginald rubbed the back of his head groggily as he checked it for bleeding, which thankfully there was none. Mary, however, had a gash on the side of her head leaking the crimson fluid. She panted, looking to him with a soft smile, then moved forward to gather the keys to their shackles from the vampire's corpse. Thankfully he had them on him, perhaps intending to actually release one of them to train if he had been telling the truth. Mary unlocked herself and moved over to Reginald, who awaited his release.

Mary licked her fangs clean as she pulled on the vampire lord's hair, his severed head slowly coming off as she applied more and more of her growing strength from feasting on him and Reginald's blood. It had taken nearly an hour even with the fireplace shovel ground against the floor to cut through their heads, Reginald's less for his naivety and youth than for the rigor-mortise that had already set in on the elder vampire's body. She looked out at the moon, blowing it a kiss before taking both heads with her into the mansion, wandering until she found a trio of vampire drinking blood from crystal goblets downstairs in the parlor. The trio stared as she silently walked up to them, giving the lightest of curtseys before sitting down. She set the two heads on the end table beside her, reaching over to pick up an empty goblet from the serving tray next to the youngest of them, holding it aloft in her hand. After inspecting it, she glanced at the trio, licking her lips and smiling coyly.
"Any chance I could have this filled? I'm just dying of thirst."

Description
Reginald groaned in the shadowed corner of the room, chained upright to the wall nearest the fireplace by his sire to ensure he did not fall onto the sunlit floor. He was still too fresh to realize what had happened, too weak to sleep on the ceiling, and definitely not skilled enough to blot out the harmful effects of the sun through alchemical or other means. His sire Samuel barely knew what to do with him or the other three captives, keeping them in that chamber and waiting for moonrise to enter and inspect those he had accidentally infected when that damned hunter had injured him during the ball. Blood flying everywhere as he slaughtered the man, how could Samuel know his own was among the crimson fountains being released that night, bathing the ballroom and all the corpses of the witnesses to his retaliation? Corpses under which four teens had foolishly decided to hide under thinking it would be safe, their salvation from the massacre. They had covered themselves with death and shit and blood as they hid, letting it soak into them as they tried to remain motionless, the stench causing them to pass out even until he found them whilst moving the bodies to the pyre he started. They had been feverish and starting to shake, groaning, vomiting, exhibiting the first signs of the infection. So now Samuel waited for Reginald and the others to show a sign that they were ready, that they had survived and were worthy of becoming trained by him.

The sun had taken what felt like ages to set, the chains holding the four slowly being slacked from the walls by some hidden mechanism, allowing them to try to stagger and stand on their own two feet. Reginald looked at Mary, smiling faintly that so far they had survived, thinking perhaps that the two could run away, find some hidden woods and build a cottage to live out their fearful days. Mary smiled back, shaking with the same hunger and thirst that he now felt.
"Reginald... Look!" Mary now pointed at Bartholomew, one of the kitchen boys who had smuggled them pastries during the ball, eating the delicacies alongside them under the table with the fourth captive, the darling debutant Allison Grey. Her lifeless body hung limply in Bartholomew's hands, clearly not surviving whatever sickness had washed over them as she did not even react as the lad tore into her neck, sucking at her veins as they only dribbled a black ooze from the lack of a beating heart. Reginald yelped loudly and Bartholomew turned, black ooze and drool on his lips and chin, mouth wide and hissing at them, fanged teeth dripping blood. As Bartholomew went back to his new form of sustenance, the other two surviving captives shuddered in revulsion and growing hunger.

"It's your idea, you do it!" Reginald cried out, passing the fire poker to Mary, who merely scowled and passed it back while his heart raced with fear. He had thought it would be still, given his current condition and all the tales he had heard, but it only hammered on more as Mary pointed at Bartholomew.
"You're the man! It's your duty to protect me you ninny!" She spat back, eyes going wide as Bartholomew looked back at them, shuddering and hissing before returning to the lifeless Allison. Reginald gulped, hands shaking as he quickly thrust the poker forward, sticking it into Bartholmew's back deeply, but not deep enough. The newly turned vampire dropped Allison and spun around roaring, lunging at Reginald with a savage fury. The chain, however, had only been slacked enough to allow them movement to the center of the room, not for such absurd motion. Bartholomew was pulled back short, the handle to the poker hitting the ground and driving it through his chest, piercing his heart. His final pained expression twisted his already rage-warped face into a terrible grimace which held even after death. Reginald, weak from the infection and now this exertion was was too tired to even move forward to try to close the vampire's eyes, but still felt his fangs start extending at the sight of fresh blood. "He's... He's not turning to dust." Mary said, staring at Bartholomew for the moment, licking her own fangs slowly. The door swung open and the vampire that had slaughtered the ballroom looked at both of them, then turned and left. Shortly, the two felt their chains shorten again while Allison and Bartholomew's corpses remained near the center of the room. Reginald looked at Allison who stared at the corpses and promptly leaned against the wall, struggling to stay awake. He, however, let himself succumb to sleep.

Reginald cringed and wrinkled his nose at the stench that awoke him, groggily opening his eyes and then blinking. The corpses of Bartholomew and Allison were flaking off their skin in chunks as the rising sun landed upon them, alighting their flesh and causing a noxious odor that made him want to vomit again. He felt nothing come up, however, as there was nothing in his stomach left to expel. He looked at Mary, gulping, shaking as much if not more than she, feeling the pangs of hunger, the craving to have his thirst sated.
"You know what we are now... Monsters."
"Yes." Mary replied, licking her lips and cringing. "Reginald... I'm scared."
"Me too. Me too." The rest of the remains crumbled to ash and bone, the poker falling to the floor with a clatter that felt almost deafening. Reginald eyed it, trying to use a leg to draw it closer but having neither the flexibility nor range. "When the sun sets again... Let us both prepare to fight back against the scum that cursed us. All right?" Mary just nodded, eying the poker, tears streaming down her face.

When the door finally opened, Reginald held the poker high, crouched behind it while Mary held a shaking scoop in her hands opposite him. The vampire entered the room slowly, looking around and spying the directions that the chains went and smirking, stepping boldly forward. As the two teens swung their weapons, he reached out his hands to grasp them, pulling the two sirelings forward from their hiding places in the process.
"I'm rather disappointed in you both for such a cheap ploy... Perhaps neither of you is worthy." The vampire said, drawing Reginald closer, leaning down, bringing his fangs toward the lad's neck. Suddenly his back arched, eyes wide as the broken femur Mary had hidden in her sleeve was driven into the vampire's chest. He looked down, releasing the fireplace tools and reaching to pull it out, but she twisted it, driving it further, piercing his heart. He gasped and backhanded them both away, trying to clutch at it again, but his hands curled while he spasmed in his death throws, blood pumping out of the wound and into his luxurious attire. His corpse fell to the center of the room, just like Bartholomew's, mirroring it with his back on the floor. Reginald rubbed the back of his head groggily as he checked it for bleeding, which thankfully there was none. Mary, however, had a gash on the side of her head leaking the crimson fluid. She panted, looking to him with a soft smile, then moved forward to gather the keys to their shackles from the vampire's corpse. Thankfully he had them on him, perhaps intending to actually release one of them to train if he had been telling the truth. Mary unlocked herself and moved over to Reginald, who awaited his release.

Mary licked her fangs clean as she pulled on the vampire lord's hair, his severed head slowly coming off as she applied more and more of her growing strength from feasting on him and Reginald's blood. It had taken nearly an hour even with the fireplace shovel ground against the floor to cut through their heads, Reginald's less for his naivety and youth than for the rigor-mortise that had already set in on the elder vampire's body. She looked out at the moon, blowing it a kiss before taking both heads with her into the mansion, wandering until she found a trio of vampire drinking blood from crystal goblets downstairs in the parlor. The trio stared as she silently walked up to them, giving the lightest of curtseys before sitting down. She set the two heads on the end table beside her, reaching over to pick up an empty goblet from the serving tray next to the youngest of them, holding it aloft in her hand. After inspecting it, she glanced at the trio, licking her lips and smiling coyly.
"Any chance I could have this filled? I'm just dying of thirst."