CHAPTER 2: THE FEEDING
As soon as they entered the shack the owner of the voice noticing what he just did shouted.
“Vampires? Get out of my house!” shouted the villager in terror.
“Nay, for thou have invited us in. We shall leave when we feel fit,” they chortled.
“Thou art not wanted here; leave now!”
“Thou should have thought of that before ye invited us inside thine dwelling. Now ye must pay the price by becoming our dinner. Tis thou own fault for the pain and suffering we shall inflict upon thine body and ever eternal soul,” Mihnea chanted into the eternal essence of the man.
“Leave now! I hast no quarrel with thou, now leave my dwelling and leave me to peace,” He shouted.
“Why should we leave thou to peace when thou would look far more appetizing in pieces?” They chortled as Voica advanced for the kill.
“Dracu La Morte!” Shouts the man seconds before his crippling screams fill the air with blood and misery.
“Wait,” Vlad announced. “Let’s have some fun with him first before he dies.”
“Aye,” the others agreed in unison.
“But what shall we do with him?” asked Voica inquisitively.
“The answer tis simple; use the torture dungeon,” Said Vlad with a sadistic grin.
The man awoke in a dark room, but there was something strange and out of place about the scenery, everything was upside-down as if all the furniture was on the ceiling. Finally, it hit him the room wasn’t upside-down, he was. All of a sudden the door opened, and in stepped Mihnea.
“Let me out of hither!” shouted the man.
“Now why should I do that when it would be more entertaining to hear thine scream of pain echo through the gates of hell and back from the suffering I shall inflict upon thou?” Mihnea says as he picks up a rust dagger and throws it into a bottle of salt water.
“Please don’t kill me, I have a wife and kids; a family to feed,” The man begged.
“I abhor that cliché!” He shouted as he picked up the dagger again and rammed it through the villager’s inner thigh. The villager screamed from the affliction and passed out yet again.
This time when he woke the room was lit, and what he saw made him scream in fright; for all around him were multiple machines that were stained in blood.
Instantaneously the smell of rancid blood hit his nose and caused him to vomit, but when he tried to roll to clear his mouth he noticed that he was tied down to a wooden table and bound by a thin fur of unknown origin, he was also adjacent to what looked like a knight’s helmet, but with spikes sticking out in every which way. He turned to his left and saw a sight which caused him to soil himself, it was a fresh dead body; he could still feel the warmth coming off of it. It was a young woman, pale at the face, with hair of ruby, and eyes of emerald that will forever haunt his dreams if he were to escape. Then he noticed the dead woman’s face had a chastity smile and no eye lids. He screamed again, the woman’s mouth twitched.
“H-h-h-help me,” she whispered and then faded into death.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” came a familiar masculine voice. “Death is the most wondrous ability that everything alive can experience, but when thou gets it down to such a fine art that I have, thou can’t ignore the beauty of it. So tell me, what doth thou prefer, life or a painful death?” questioned Mihnea.
“Vedem în iad, te bucata murdare de rahat,” shouted the man as he spat in Mihnea face.
“Such language, let’s see what thou can say with no tongue,” Mihnea chortles
“That’s it. Time for fun is over,” Vlad said as he walked in through the door.
“Yes father, time for dinner,” said Mihnea as he grabbed for the helmet.
When Vlad spotted what his son was doing, he grabbed his arm and broke it.
“What art thou doing?” both Vlad and Mihnea shouted in unison.
“What art thou trying to do, kill him?” chortled Vlad.
“Tis what thou wanted of me, is it not?” Mihnea answered back.
“Nay, I said have fun, not kill the poor man, but ye thou right; tis time for dinner,” said Vlad.
“Voica, tis time for the young ones to feed for their first,” shouted Mihnea.
“Fir-ar Eu vin!” Came a far off voice that seemed leagues away, but the origin of the voice entered almost instantaneously, which belonged to a woman of about six feet tall with black hair and fire red eyes. “Good, she said, ‘I’m thirsty’.”
“Wait,” Vlad called. “I have to knock him out first or he might move and kill himself.” Vlad takes out a bottle off a clear liquid that smelled strongly of alcohol.
“There, he is out now let’s feed,” she said and she bit into his neck, sucked up a mouthful of blood and offered it to Draco, but the baby wouldn’t drink, so she offered it to Drakan, who saw what his brother did and copied him and didn’t drink either. “Mihnea, father, they refuse blood. What’s wrong with my babies?” Voica shrieked.
“They are most likely not hungry,” stated Vlad.
“You’re probably right father,” Voica said with relief.
“That’s it, they are not hungry, they are not hungry,” Voica chanted to herself.
“Voica, I think it’s a good idea if I look after the boys for awhile, thou art becoming paranoid,” said Mihnea after he was finished feeding off the villager.
“Never! You’ll never take my kids away from me!” shouted Voica. “Sorry, maybe I am becoming a little paranoid after all.”
“A little?” said Vlad and Mihnea in unity.
“I’d hate to see thou paranoid then,” chortled Vlad
“So, what shall we do with him?” asked Mihnea in reference to the villager.
“Thou shall take him back to his home and place him in his bed so that he shall think it was all a bad dream,” advised Vlad
“Vampires? Get out of my house!” shouted the villager in terror.
“Nay, for thou have invited us in. We shall leave when we feel fit,” they chortled.
“Thou art not wanted here; leave now!”
“Thou should have thought of that before ye invited us inside thine dwelling. Now ye must pay the price by becoming our dinner. Tis thou own fault for the pain and suffering we shall inflict upon thine body and ever eternal soul,” Mihnea chanted into the eternal essence of the man.
“Leave now! I hast no quarrel with thou, now leave my dwelling and leave me to peace,” He shouted.
“Why should we leave thou to peace when thou would look far more appetizing in pieces?” They chortled as Voica advanced for the kill.
“Dracu La Morte!” Shouts the man seconds before his crippling screams fill the air with blood and misery.
“Wait,” Vlad announced. “Let’s have some fun with him first before he dies.”
“Aye,” the others agreed in unison.
“But what shall we do with him?” asked Voica inquisitively.
“The answer tis simple; use the torture dungeon,” Said Vlad with a sadistic grin.
The man awoke in a dark room, but there was something strange and out of place about the scenery, everything was upside-down as if all the furniture was on the ceiling. Finally, it hit him the room wasn’t upside-down, he was. All of a sudden the door opened, and in stepped Mihnea.
“Let me out of hither!” shouted the man.
“Now why should I do that when it would be more entertaining to hear thine scream of pain echo through the gates of hell and back from the suffering I shall inflict upon thou?” Mihnea says as he picks up a rust dagger and throws it into a bottle of salt water.
“Please don’t kill me, I have a wife and kids; a family to feed,” The man begged.
“I abhor that cliché!” He shouted as he picked up the dagger again and rammed it through the villager’s inner thigh. The villager screamed from the affliction and passed out yet again.
This time when he woke the room was lit, and what he saw made him scream in fright; for all around him were multiple machines that were stained in blood.
Instantaneously the smell of rancid blood hit his nose and caused him to vomit, but when he tried to roll to clear his mouth he noticed that he was tied down to a wooden table and bound by a thin fur of unknown origin, he was also adjacent to what looked like a knight’s helmet, but with spikes sticking out in every which way. He turned to his left and saw a sight which caused him to soil himself, it was a fresh dead body; he could still feel the warmth coming off of it. It was a young woman, pale at the face, with hair of ruby, and eyes of emerald that will forever haunt his dreams if he were to escape. Then he noticed the dead woman’s face had a chastity smile and no eye lids. He screamed again, the woman’s mouth twitched.
“H-h-h-help me,” she whispered and then faded into death.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” came a familiar masculine voice. “Death is the most wondrous ability that everything alive can experience, but when thou gets it down to such a fine art that I have, thou can’t ignore the beauty of it. So tell me, what doth thou prefer, life or a painful death?” questioned Mihnea.
“Vedem în iad, te bucata murdare de rahat,” shouted the man as he spat in Mihnea face.
“Such language, let’s see what thou can say with no tongue,” Mihnea chortles
“That’s it. Time for fun is over,” Vlad said as he walked in through the door.
“Yes father, time for dinner,” said Mihnea as he grabbed for the helmet.
When Vlad spotted what his son was doing, he grabbed his arm and broke it.
“What art thou doing?” both Vlad and Mihnea shouted in unison.
“What art thou trying to do, kill him?” chortled Vlad.
“Tis what thou wanted of me, is it not?” Mihnea answered back.
“Nay, I said have fun, not kill the poor man, but ye thou right; tis time for dinner,” said Vlad.
“Voica, tis time for the young ones to feed for their first,” shouted Mihnea.
“Fir-ar Eu vin!” Came a far off voice that seemed leagues away, but the origin of the voice entered almost instantaneously, which belonged to a woman of about six feet tall with black hair and fire red eyes. “Good, she said, ‘I’m thirsty’.”
“Wait,” Vlad called. “I have to knock him out first or he might move and kill himself.” Vlad takes out a bottle off a clear liquid that smelled strongly of alcohol.
“There, he is out now let’s feed,” she said and she bit into his neck, sucked up a mouthful of blood and offered it to Draco, but the baby wouldn’t drink, so she offered it to Drakan, who saw what his brother did and copied him and didn’t drink either. “Mihnea, father, they refuse blood. What’s wrong with my babies?” Voica shrieked.
“They are most likely not hungry,” stated Vlad.
“You’re probably right father,” Voica said with relief.
“That’s it, they are not hungry, they are not hungry,” Voica chanted to herself.
“Voica, I think it’s a good idea if I look after the boys for awhile, thou art becoming paranoid,” said Mihnea after he was finished feeding off the villager.
“Never! You’ll never take my kids away from me!” shouted Voica. “Sorry, maybe I am becoming a little paranoid after all.”
“A little?” said Vlad and Mihnea in unity.
“I’d hate to see thou paranoid then,” chortled Vlad
“So, what shall we do with him?” asked Mihnea in reference to the villager.
“Thou shall take him back to his home and place him in his bed so that he shall think it was all a bad dream,” advised Vlad
