Elsie never really understood why exactly she liked alcohol so much.

Maybe it was the way it tasted, the way it burned as it went down her throat. Perhaps it was the way it made her feel, how it made so many rampant thoughts fade away into the background.

Perhaps it was the idea that, as her father used to say, 'When yer drunk, there isn't a problem for ya to feel anymore.' Although, listening to the words of a man who nearly drank himself to death wasn't the best idea, especially when it's concerning said substance. No, that would just be foolish.

Then again, that's just the kind of person Elsie played at times, and old habits die hard.

As she stared up at the night sky, she leaned forward on the balcony, the moon and stars were particularly bright tonight. It was beautiful. The way they shimmered and shone, the way the world was cast in a pale, white glow.

Back inside the palace were the sounds of hundreds of voices, all laughing and chatting away as they drank the night away. There was even some form of music, some songs from the near ancient past that Elsie wouldn't be able to name, though she couldn't name any song. It was probably classical or something, if she had to guess.

But, she wished it was silent.

She looked down at the glass of wine in her hand, the red liquid swirling around as she tilted it, the light reflecting off its surface.

Her lips were dry, her throat equally so, but as she took a large gulp, she couldn't swallow. No, the moment it hit her tongue, she retched. She coughed and sputtered, a feeling of disgust growing in the pit of her stomach.

It tasted vile. Like as if she was drinking sewage, slowing dirt and ash and all things that should never be consumed.

It was getting worse again. Every day that went by, everything but blood had tasted more and more disgusting. It was becoming harder and harder to ignore the hunger, and as the days passed, the cravings grew stronger and the scent of blood became more enticing.

She spit over the balcony railing, trying to get the taste out of her mouth and hopefully hitting someone below. Sadly, she didn't. That would have made her feel a bit better.

As the flavour lingered in her mouth, she was disappointed. Not just because of her aim, but because she hadn't consumed a single drink that night. The fact that she wasn't intoxicated right now in the slightest bit was abhorrent. No, she was far too sober as it stood.

And she was far too sober to deal with whoever was coming through the closed balcony door behind her.

"Oh... it seems I wasn't the only person looking for a break away from the party."

She didn't recognize the voice, and as Elsie turned, she wasn't familiar with the man standing before her either. He was about the same height as her, tall, and had a relatively lithe figure. His hair was a stark white, similar to the colour of all the pureblooded Vampires she had seen before, and was cut short. His skin, however, was a tad tan, though with a faint gray undertone. His lips were a light crimson, and as for his eyes, they were even whiter than his hair.

Yep. Typical Vampire. Especially that tone of voice he had, so annoyingly smug no matter the circumstance.

"Well, it is a beautiful night, is it not? Especially the moon," He walked forward, leaning against the railing beside her and looking up. "Yes… quite beautiful.”

Elsie glanced over, staring at the man for a moment with narrowed eyes. His clothing was nice. Too nice. He wore a black suit, one that fit his figure quite nicely. His sleeves were rolled up, and a steel pocket watch was visible clearly as it reflected the light from above.

"Next, you're going to say 'but not as beautiful as you'. Am I right?" She took a sip from her glass, her nose scrunching up as the taste returned, though she managed to not retch once again. "Because if that's the case, I'm gonna hurl."

The man let out a chuckle as he covered his mouth, staring at Elsie with a curious glint in his eyes. "Do you happen to be a mind reader?"

"No," She rolled her eyes, "Men like you are just predictable. You always have something stupid and cliche to say. I hate it. You all need new material."

"My apologies, I will keep that in mind next time I'm attempting to flirt." The man bowed his head slightly, though a confident smile remained spread across his lips, "I simply haven't seen you before, and it's certainly rare for me to not know someone."

She resisted the urge to gag. She was used to men like this, those who would incessantly try and interact no matter how obviously disinterested she was. She’d typically just beat them up until they couldn’t speak, but she had an inkling that wouldn’t work here.

"Are you some sort of social butterfly? Or do you just flirt with everyone you meet?"

"Just the pretty ones."

"I wasn't joking about hurling."

The man laughed once more, shaking his head, "I don't believe I ever caught your name."

Elsie sighed. He just wouldn't take a hint, would he?

"That's because I didn't give you my name," She finally met his gaze, narrowing her eyes. "But you already know it."

Although she could tell he was lying about something from the beginning, it took a while to figure out what. She had started to remember his face. She saw him before, back in the private hall shared between the House Heads.

"... You truly are interesting, Elsie. Every time you say something, I find myself wanting to know more about you." He turned, leaning his back against the railing, "But yes, I am quite aware. Though, it is rather rude to not introduce yourself."

"You didn't introduce yourself either, hypocrite."

"True, I suppose I am just used to people knowing my name... I am Damien." He held out his hand, a smile spread across his face, "Damien Lenia Tepes Belladonna."

Ah.

Elsie's gaze fell to his hand, to his black nails and long, slender fingers.

This man wasn't just some House Head... no. He was...

She slapped his hand away, her glare turning into a fierce scowl.

"Do not touch me." She hissed, taking a step back, "Don't you even try and touch me. I don't care who your mother is, or the over-inflated ego you were born with. If you dare lay a finger on me, I'll rip your fucking throat out."

Damien blinked, his expression blank.

But then, his smile returned, though his expression was much different.

He laughed. He threw his head back, a genuine chuckle escaping his throat, though it quickly evolved to full laughter.

"Ha! Hahaha! Haha, hah, oh... Oh, wow. Now that's something I haven't heard directed towards me before... It's quite refreshing, actually." He grinned, looking her up and down, "You are unique, Elsie Selene. Very, very different from what I have seen in a while."

Elsie said nothing, only giving him a disgusted sneer.

"But... I apologize for making you uncomfortable. That was not my intention, I promise. I simply am a very tactile person, you see. When I shake someone's hand, I get to know the kind of person they are..."

"Yeah, well, I can already tell the type of person you are. And I'm not interested." She turned away, walking towards the door, "Just stay the hell away from me."

"I would love to, Elsie, but, unfortunately, I have a bit of a request."

Begrudgingly, she stopped just for one moment.

"Would you care to dance with me?"

She didn't turn, but she could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"I'd rather fucking die."

She walked inside, shutting the glass door behind her as she re-entered the ballroom. She was quick to walk away, not giving Damien another look as she pushed her way through the crowd.

From what she could tell, he didn't follow after her. She would have broken his legs if he tried. Or, at least, attempted to.

"My, my, someone doesn't look happy!" Cyrell's voice called out, and as she turned, she found him leaning against a wall, a drink in hand.

"That's because I'm not. I'm never happy." She groaned as she approached, though didn't get too close, "I'm sick of these disgusting bastards."

"Yes, I could feel your repulsion from all the way over here, my dear! It was rather... potent." Cyrell chuckled, taking a sip from his glass, "It actually makes me nostalgic. It brings me back to the time the Prince pulled the same move on me..."

"Eh...?" She tilted her head, "That thing seriously flirted with you?"

"He has a routine, I've noticed. He'll try to get close to a pretty woman he hasn't talked to before, and if that fails, he'll attempt the same with a pretty man of the same ilk."

"You're not pretty, Cyrell." She huffed, "At least he's consistent, though…”

"I'll ignore your insult… I can tell you're rather curious about what happened between us. Is that correct?"

"Not really."

"No need to lie. You do remember I feel what you feel, no? Even now, I can sense a certain inquisitiveness... or maybe, it's just intrigue."

She didn't respond, instead only looking around the room.

"He tried to use his Technique. As he does with everyone... You managed to resist it, dear, though subconsciously. You can imagine how surprised he was."

"His... huh?" She raised an eyebrow, "A flirting technique? Yeah, uh, not exactly hard to resist a cheesy line like that..."

"No, no! His Aura Technique. A rather potent one, at that... It is called 'Enamoring Touch', a Technique that allows him to control those who are physically touched by his Aura. So, when someone touches him, or is touched by him, he sneakily places the Aura that makes contact inside your brain, specifically in the part responsible for emotions, and thus, is able to manipulate what you feel, and therefore, how you act."

"Wh-What?" She felt the colour drain from her face, "that's..."

"Absolutely disgusting? Correct." It seems even Cyrell had his standards, as despicable as Elsie knew he was, "You only touched him for less than a second, so it was easy for you to resist. But for someone who actually shakes his hand..."

"... Are you speaking from experience...?" Was she feeling... pity? Was she truly feeling sorry for this monster in front of her? No... of course not. She must have just been disgusted at the prospect.

"Yes. I am." Cyrell's expression seemed to darken, the slightest bit of rage hidden in his words, "He made me... feel things that I normally would not have felt. He made me fall in love with him, made me want to do anything for him... and he took full advantage of that. He manipulated me, toyed with my emotions... he did whatever he wanted with me." Cyrell laughed, taking a swig from his drink, while Elsie's expression became grim as she listened silently.

"Love is not something I feel. Not for anyone... and I am neither romantically or sexually attracted to anyone. It's always been that way... but with his Technique, it didn't matter. Just like that, he took away something that made me who I am... something I cherished." He closed his eyes, "Just like everyone else in this godforsaken world, he used me. He didn't care what I wanted, no... That bastard... that bastard stole my own decisions from me..."

Elsie wasn't sure what to say. It was the first time she'd ever heard him speak with such... emotion in his voice. Such genuine feeling. It wasn't like him, not like how she knew him.

... But how well did she know Cyrell?

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"It was when I finally regained control of myself that I decided to never again allow someone to take away my free will, my decisions. I was the only one who mattered. I was the only one in control. No one would ever again make me do anything..."

"You..."

"Oh, but that's the past, my dear. Don't you worry." Cyrell waved his hand dismissively, though the dark tone never left his voice, "Though, do be careful of Damien. He still–"

"You're just as bad as him." Elsie narrowed her eyes as she spoke in a low tone, glaring at him, "You fucking stole from me my choice, my decisions. You took away everything that made me… me. Everything that made me human!"

Cyrell paused, his gaze widening.

"So, you can save your damn sob story for someone who gives a shit! You can't seriously try and make me pity you after doing the same damn thing he does, just for a different purpose. You're pathetic!" She clenched her fists, her hands shaking as their pact stopped her from doing what she wanted, "Just stay the hell away from me... I can't stand even looking at you."

Cyrell stared at her without a word, his expression blank.

"... Yes, I suppose that is... fair..." Then, he looked away from her, not to anything in specific. Just away from her, from her gaze. "... Enjoy the party, Elsie. I’ll see you after it’s over."

He began to walk away, silent, and his expression devoid of any emotion.

She watched as he vanished into the crowd, not caring enough to say anything.

But...

Was that the first time he called her by her name?

–

When the party finally ended, Elsie expected to at last be allowed to go back to the manor; Maybe she’d even see Mina before she fell asleep. But no, apparently, that would have been far too good to be true. Instead, the House Heads had to stay for some purpose that Cyrell refused to speak to her about. He had been silent for a while now, actually.

She'd usually find that wonderful. But now, when she was so confused about everything, she did wish he would at least say something about what was going on.

Twenty five– no. There were twenty six House Heads including herself. These were all the ones in Nosferatu's capital, however. The others had been invited, but they were to come at a separate time. A time where the less powerful House Heads weren't present.

That was suspicious.

But not nearly as much as the fact that, for some reason, it was the Vampire Queen herself who led the House Heads, along with her highest rank Royal Guards.

What was even more suspicious was where they were being led into, a complex elevator juxtaposed to the rest of the palace interior which seemed to have been built with the express purpose of leading people here.

It was large, constructed out of heavy steel, and there was no way to open it. Not until the Vampire Queen's finger split open, a single drop of blood falling onto a scanner. Then, a large, mechanical click echoed through the metal elevator as it lowered them down, down, and down.

For a moment, Elsie wondered if they were being led to some sort of underground dungeon, a place where they'd be disposed of. She shook that idea away, however. There was no reason for them to do that, and Cyrell wouldn't lead either of them to their death's. It wasn't who he was.

The elevator descended down for a solid minute, and as it did, the air around them seemed to grow heavier. More tense, more foreboding. She didn't know why, but a dreadful feeling settled into her stomach as the doors opened.

The room was dark, lit only by a few candles, and the smell of death and rot filled her nostrils. A sickening feeling began to creep up on her as she followed behind the rest of the Vampires.

Despite the shadows, Elsie could see clearly. She could see the walls and ground, all stone and ancient and unlike all else in the Palace, including the elevator. In fact, it didn't seem like this place had ever been renovated. She could see the stains and the dirt, and the old cobwebs, and the way the ceiling was made of wooden beams that just barely kept the dirt above from collapsing in on itself.

It was cold, damp, and empty.

As the group of Vampires entered the room, the Royal Guard's, who were carrying some sort of metal crate, stopped, placing the container down onto the ground with a heavy thud. Elsie's eyes followed their actions, watching intently as they lifted a lid off, a sickening sense of curiosity overcoming her.

They had a Human inside. A live, breathing human.

"What... what's going on?" Elsie whispered, looking forward to Cyrell.

"Be quiet." His voice was a mere hush, and for a moment, she swore she heard a hint of confusion and fear. Was he as clueless as her? It actually made the slightest bit of sense. Just recently had he become the Head of the Selene household, along with her, that is.

As the Royal Guard brought the container away, the Human was left alone sitting on the ground. They were wearing high quality clothes, their body clean and their hair combed. They looked... healthy.

All it took was a wave of her hands for the Royal Guards to back away, and as the Queen took a step forward towards the Human, they bowed their head.

"Hello, child," She said, a smile on her face, "You may raise your head."

The Human looked up, a sense of nervousness clear in their eyes.

"What is your name?" She asked, kneeling down to them.

"My name...?" They stammered out.

"Yes, your name. Your parents must have given one to you," She said, her voice almost motherly. “We all have names, don’t we?”

"M-my name... My name is Jeremiah..."

"Well then, Jeremiah, how would you like to be improved?"

They paused, their eyes widening as they looked up at her, though not with fear. They blinked, and the Queen gave them a kind, warm smile.

"It would be an honour.. Your Majesty..."

"Very good. Now, come closer, Jeremiah," The Queen said, gesturing for him to stand up.

He hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath as he shakily stood.

"Now, are you ready, Jeremiah?"

"I am."

With a smile, the Queen raised her arm above the Human's head.

"Open your mouth, young Jeremiah."

They did so, and, after patting them on the head, she spoke once more.

"Say 'ahhhh'."

"Ah– Ahhhhh–"

A large hole opened up in the Queen's wrist, blood suddenly rushing down as it sprayed into their mouth, coating them and the ground around them red. Their eyes went wide, a choking sound escaping their throat. They coughed and gasped, but as horrible as it tasted, they knew they had to swallow. They would not disgrace her.

The blood poured down their throat, filling them, changing them, and as the Queen's hand began to heal, her skin knitting itself back together, the Human's body began to change.

But it was wrong.

"Gh– GAH–!"

The young, former human, let out a cry as their veins bulged out of their skin, the colour draining from their face and their body turning grey. Their limbs began to contort, twisting in on themselves, the sounds of their bones snapping audible to everyone in the room.

Elsie felt her blood run cold. She had never seen a Vampire turn a Human before, and certainly not like this. This was not a transformation. It was a mutation.

Their body seemed to have an allergic reaction, the skin across their body began to peel and bubble, blood oozing out. Their muscles tore, their limbs ripping from their body as their spine snapped, forcing their torso to bend in half. Their teeth began to fall out, and their jaw broke, dislocating and allowing their tongue to fall out of their mouth.

But they weren't dead.

A scream escaped their throat as their body twitched and spasmed, their limbs flailing about, blood flying everywhere as their flesh tore and ripped itself apart. Then, more and more limbs began to grow from the body as their flesh multiplied. Their spine stretched and twisted, breaking through their skin and splitting into tendrils of bone and gore.

Their head split, the top half peeling off like a banana as a mass of eyeballs burst from the newly formed opening. Then, as the bottom half of their face fell to the floor, their jaw opened, revealing rows upon rows of sharpened teeth.

The Human's cries of agony had long since been replaced with screams of terror and rage, their body writhing and flailing about. It was as if something was controlling them, trying to force itself out.

But it was during this that the Queen began to hum, her kind, motherly smile never leaving her face.

Then, without warning, the creature that was once a Human let out a deafening roar. A scream that shook the very foundations of the earth, a scream that caused the stone walls and ground to tremble.

Elsie could feel her legs weaken, her stomach churn, and her heart sink as she looked upon the abomination before her. It was an eldritch nightmare, an unholy creation, a monster straight out of the darkest pits of hell. It was a mass of flesh, a writhing mass of blood and gore, a pulsating mass of twisted bone and sinew.

Its many eyes were bloodshot, its skin was covered in blisters and boils, its limbs were deformed, its jaws were twisted and–

Without warning, the Queen made a swift hand movement that quieted the beast.

"Goodbye, Jeremiah."

And then, as if nothing had happened at all, their head exploded into a mist of red.

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to the Queen whose smile had never once faded.

Applause. With an impressed gaze, all of the Households began to clap. A cacophony of horrible approval that left Elsie stunned.

She was speechless. How could they approve of this, how could they applaud her? That was a child, and the Queen just... just murdered them. Without hesitation, without remorse.

... They were all monsters. That's why.

As she turned around to look back towards the House Heads, she wiped her hands clean of blood.

"You are all here because you are chosen," She said, her words echoing throughout the chamber. "Those who are beyond the common ilk. Those who are beyond the common Vampire. You are the future, the hope, and the pride of the Nosferatu."

It was like she was giving a speech. A grand, inspiring speech. But how could a speech inspire her if its goal was to convince her that she was better than other people, especially Humans?

"And for that, you are given a gift. A gift that two here are receiving for the first time. A gift that only those of greatness are granted."

Elsie froze.

No, it couldn't be.

"Your gift is that you are to receive a portion of my blood. However, as you have seen, my blood is far too volatile, even for you. Thus, you drink the diluted blood of Royalty and Human. A bloodline that has been passed down for generations. A bloodline that is pure, and unmarred by the taint of humanity."

Elsie felt her breath catch in her throat, her heart beating so fast that she thought it might burst out of her chest. She felt sick. Dizzy. Lightheaded. She felt like she was going to pass out.

"And so, at the precipice of this night's end, you drink, and once again be fueled by my blood. My strength. My power. My essence. You will be reborn, and in your veins, my power will flow, the power of an Abnormality."

No...

"Now, who shall go first?"

Stop it...

"Ah... I know. Elsie Selene."

... No.

No, no, no...

She couldn't speak, her mouth too dry, her throat too tight. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything. Her entire world was spinning, and she was drowning, drowning in the darkness, drowning in the shadows, drowning in the depths of her own despair.

It was only when Cyrell nudged her that she snapped out of it.

"Go. This is the only way... both for my desires, and yours. You do want to see her again, don't you?" He spoke in a whisper, a voice that seemed to be filled with a mixture of emotions, though in his eyes Elsie saw something new.

"... Fucking– Fuck you, Cyrell.”

With shaking legs, Elsie took a step forward, and as she did, the other House Heads parted, forming a path for her. She walked slowly, each step bringing her closer and closer to the monster before her. She felt like her heart would stop, her body would freeze, and her legs would collapse, and yet, she pressed on.

The Queen extended her hand out to her, and Elsie looked into her eyes. She could see it. The glint of madness. The madness of the Nosferatu, the insanity of the Vampire.

She was insane, a true Monster.

"Take my hand, Elsie Selene," The Queen spoke, her smile still not escaping her.

"F... Fine..."

Elsie reached her hand out, and she grabbed onto the other. She felt a chill run down her spine, a sense of dread, a sense of horror, a sense of... relief. Relief? No, why was she suddenly… so calm?

She felt the cold touch of the Queen's fingers wrap around her hand, and then, the Queen pulled her closer. She leaned forward, her eyes locked onto hers, then her lips mere inches away from her ear.

"I am proud of you," She whispered.

Elsie froze, her eyes widening.

Proud...? No, who was this?

"I know what you are. What you truly are." She spoke in a near whisper, though it was somehow loud to the no longer shaking Elsie, "You are like me. You need not hide it, Elsie. From the moment I laid eyes upon you, I saw in your eyes the most beautiful of feelings…”

“What do you…?” Elsie just barely managed to make out, her voice caught as a cold arm wrapped around her back. It was so horribly comforting, so soft yet tight.

“You are in love… and with a human. You fight off your vampiric urges all because you fear what they will think of you, how you might truly lose them…”

Elsie has the uncanny ability to discern whether a person was lying or not. She could always see through whatever falsehoods a person spoke, all it took was to hear their voice. That’s how she knew if someone was genuine or not, whether they were truthful.

And it was this skill which made her so horrified right now, as for the first time since she’d heard the Queen speak, she wasn’t lying. There was no mask hiding her face. It was just her.

It was Anastasiya.

“I, too, fell in love with a human… and it was that love which made me want to forever stand by her side, no matter what I’d have to do to see her again…” Her embrace became tighter as she spoke those loving words, “I once feared that she could never love me. The only love I knew was the one I was forced into… Yet she did. She was the first to ever love me… and she loved every part of me.”

She paused for a moment, leaning back just a tad in order to look Elsie in her silver eyes.

“And, I am sure it will be the same for you. They will love you no matter what you are, or what you become. That is what love is, and…” A painfully gentle and real smile was upon her face, “I hope you get to see your love again.”

As the Queen pulled away, she brought her to the corpse of the dead human.

"... You have been chosen, and now, you shall be blessed."

Elsie felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as every true part of the Queen disappeared.

She didn't want this. She didn't want to become a monster. She didn't want to give up on her feelings. She didn't want to lose who she was.

But what choice did she have anymore?

Her eyes fell upon the corpse, and as they did, the Queen let go of her hand.

"Open your mouth and say 'ahhh'."

It was almost a sick joke.

Almost.

"Ahhh..."

Elsie obeyed, and the Queen motioned to the blood of the deformed human corpse, its blood beginning to float up, as if it was being held by an invisible hand.

"Now, swallow."

Elsie watched as the blood flowed towards her mouth, and then, as the first drop fell onto her tongue, she felt a cold shiver run down her spine.

It was bittersweet. Like a mixture of honey and poison. The taste was overwhelming, intoxicating, and the scent was unlike any she'd ever smelled before. It was thick, sweet, and it was almost as if it was alive, squirming as it fell upon her tongue.

Elsie closed her eyes, and the moment she did, she felt the blood flowing down her throat. It burned as it traveled down her esophagus, a burning sensation that felt like acid, poison, hate.

She wanted to throw up, to spit it out, to do anything, but she couldn't.

It was so wonderful, after all. A perfect ambrosia she could never grow sick of.