Vampire Hunter D Fan Fiction ❯ Determination of the Damned ❯ Beauty in Chains ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter2—Beauty in Chains

 

 

Nightfall, already. Peering through the dense clouds, he could see tiny pinpoints of light above him--the only objects not shrouded in complete darkness. Standing in the shadows of Castle Treppe, the place he hoped Count Maeken was currently hiding out in, D cautiously took in his surroundings. This immense, towering structure once was home to a fearful vampire that ruled directly underneath the Original Evil himself, Dracula. Count Drisken, D believed that was his name; it had been thousands of years since he presided over these parts—his reign of terror ending suddenly when Dracula butchered him for his land. The murder took many by surprise, but no one asked questions back then. There had been a mysterious inner feud between the higher aristocrats at that time, almost 35,000 years ago, which ended the supremacy of many powerful vampires—including Drisken. It was way before D was born, so the dhampile only knew the myths and legends that were fabricated as a result of this `Great War' among the nobility. Not too many really did know the real truth behind this blood-bath between clans; most of the vampires that happened to survive the war, died since then. It bothered D sometimes, not knowing all the facts about his ancestors--but right now he was concerned with other matters.

 

After all these long years, this fortress still stood here, neglected—slowly deteriorating as time passed. Sitting in the middle of the icy Vermeshion Mountain range, it remained isolated from the world inside its treacherous terrain. Count Drisken was the first vampire to live here, and was hypothesized be the last—since the majority of the remaining vampires were terrified that Castle Treppe was haunted by his memory. Powerful and malevolent; even in spirit form, Drisken would be a force to be reckoned with.

 

It had taken almost a week for D to cross the rocky peaks of the Vermeshion, and now he stood on top of this frozen summit, watching the castle closely for possible signs of life. Acting on a hint, D had followed rumors to this place. Many people in the small mountain town of Granite Flatte had claimed that after hours, this place was mysteriously lit with eerie yellow light. After remaining inactive for so long, it was no surprise to the dhampile that the sudden odd occurrences would startle the villagers, even if they were miles away. They assumed Drisken had risen from his cold grave to reek havoc on their village again, but D had the feeling another walked inside the walls of this stone palace now; Maeken. If D knew anything about his new adversary, it was one thing: Maeken wouldn't fear anybody now that he suddenly had power. Hoping for a lucky break, D chose to pursue this knowledge, traveling through the thick forests, and impenetrable vine-covered passageways to come here. Finally, after the long week of searching, he made it to the mammoth of a Castle; and he now stood in its silhouette waiting for something to happen.

 

Feeling let down, he waited in the complete darkness for those alleged lights to come on. How foolish I was to follow the villagers' crazed advice. Getting impatient, he advanced towards the dark castle, hunting with his senses to find Maeken. Dracula had built this place for Drisken during his hay-day, and it more than likely still housed evil beyond imagination. Slowly making his way across the ridged, grassless rock, he prepared for imminent battle.

 

Nothing; no demons, no traps—no Maeken. Looking almost disappointed at how easy it was to advance, D clanked over the giant wood drawbridge, and stepped through the towering threshold. Peering into the darkness, he could feel the little hairs on the back of his neck stand. Something isn't right… Suddenly, with a booming rumble that shook the rocks of the massive castle, the large, heavy drawbridge began to raze. I'll figure out how to open it later. Locking with a loud thud, the wood structure held the dhampile inside the fortress-prison.

 

Hearing a low noise, D swerved around, completely surrounded by the darkness. His first instinct was to unsheathe his weapon, which he quickly did. Holding the sword in his hands, he listened intently inside the fathomless black.

 

With a small spark, the room ignited; lamps and lights flickering on as if by magic around him—inviting the dhampile into the castle. Looking around at the stunning décor, the vampire hunter was awestruck at the vision quickly filling his eyes. Sheathing his sword, D gazed up towards the intricate murals covering the ceiling. Intimidating stone statues of demons and vampire-esque Gods towered over the hunter on each side of the room, acting as pillars holding the overhanging stone floor on their backs; carved, menacing faces burning into D's back as he made his way across the hard, crimson-colored garnet floor. Cold and forbidding, the colossal foyer was richly ornamented with tapestries, paintings, and gold-leafed designs fit for a God. Directly in front of D, there stood an immense marble staircase, winding its way from this primary floor, up to the next. It twisted around, forking in the middle and splitting into two separate marble flights of stairs--traveling opposite ways from each other towards the unknown secrets of the castle. A glossy, crimson-stained railing wove its way along the length of this gorgeous display; intricate and horrifyingly beautiful designs, carved with care over the surface of the hardwood, seeming to come to life as D scanned them over with his eyes.

 

At the pinnacle of this impressive, high-domed room, there hung a splendid chandelier covered in diamonds, rubies, and sapphires. Dangling in long, graceful chains around the candle-shaped crystal lights, small tears of shimmering silver reflected hazy light in bright ripples. It was quite a palace, this place; Dracula must have loved his minion a lot to go all out like this for him. Why he eventually assassinated him, D did not know. One would never guess the owner of this castle once was the feared tyrant of millions; it was too grand to be owned by a cold-blooded vampire.

 

Placing his hand on the glossy crimson wood, D took a step up onto the taupe-colored marble staircase. Waiting for possible attackers, he paused, scanning the room. Taking another couple of steps, he heard the familiar sound of his `companion', sounding his pessimistic opinions.

 

“You realize that this is a trap, don't you?” Left hand casually offered to his host, not bothering to congratulate him on the easy entry. “I never thought that you'd be stupid enough to just waltz right into death.” He chucked nonchalantly, not really caring about the conversation. “What you go through for blond chicks! Hey wait a minute—I thought this place was supposed to be deteriorating…it seems fine to me!”

 

“Quiet,” D looked around suddenly, cautious of his surroundings. I could have sworn I heard something just a second ago… He turned around on the staircase, looking back at the locked entrance. He had been careless, just entering without entertaining the thought of possible situations he would encounter once inside. But, he was here now; might as well begin the hunt. Hearing another noise, soft but still audible, he swerved around again, staring up towards the forked landing above him. It was too muffled to understand, but it sounded close. Narrowing his eyes, he placed his hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword. Where are you?

 

`Stop it, you damn bastard!' He heard it clearly that time, coming from somewhere beneath the staircase. It sounded like a woman shouting, somewhere in the basement of this castle. Thinking it was those two Dosley girls trapped and being tortured, D leaped down the four steps he had climbed, and turned, looking for a way down. Upon investigation, he had found a hidden wall underneath the staircase; containing two small, plain-looking doors--the unadorned wood was uneven and rotten. Hearing that same woman scream again, he broke through one of the doors with ease, sending splintering wood flying in all directions around him.

 

Following a dingy, narrow staircase down to the dark basement, D quietly descended. He could hear the woman's voice more clearly now—her pain and misery echoing into his ears. The hazy light from the primary floor was rapidly fading into black; turning the dhampile's eyesight against him. Moving faster, he gripped his hand around the hilt of his sword, searching with his remaining senses to continue the hunt. Hitting something wet with his feet at the end of the staircase, he assumed he had found the cement floor. A water-mane must have broken, D tried his best to remain quiet as he sloshed around the cold, ankle-deep water of the basement. Following the uneven icy wall despite his instincts, the hunter found himself inside a winding corridor—a rancid odor hitting him like a brick wall as he advanced further. Covering his mouth and nose, he continued, finding the darkness was slowly becoming replaced with an eerie glow. Another scream bounced off the stone walls, making him cringe. God, where are they?

 

He was in a prison of some sort, that's what he determined from the look of things. Stepping out of the water onto a raised slab, he entered a tunnel of grisly cells, lining the corridor on each side. Containing desiccated bodies, thick shackles, and nauseating, discolored stains, they added a ghastly appearance to the already hideous tunnel. Dark, jagged metal bars jutted out from the floor in front of each prison, acting as barriers to the outside world. Turning his head from one particularly gruesome jail cell, D continued on his way down the corridor, avoiding the horror on each side of his body. The vile odor was getting denser now, more putrid; raping his nose and stinging his eyes as he walked.

 

“Did you see how she quaked when I struck her?” A disembodied voice laughed happily, pleased at his sick accomplishment. He sounded crazed and wild; a demon, no doubt.

 

“Yeah, sure did Grant! She cried after the last one! And after being so unyielding this entire time--I'm impressed, big brother.” Another joined the first in his maniacal laughter. Both men sounded like they were just around the corner. Drawing his weapon, D ran towards the two of them.

 

Taking the demons by surprise, he managed to slice one of them midway thought their chest—causing the ugly thing to fall where it stood. The other, the first voice he heard, was much swifter. He dodged the attack effortlessly, flipping up onto the wall. Like his dead brother, this demon looked like he was half-snake, half-lizard. With giant, terrifying yellow eyes, smooth dark green amphibian skin, and a long tail with his clawed toes, the hideous creature was one disgusting fiend to behold. Clinging onto the cold stone wall, the lizard-man hissed at D violently, lunging at the hunter without hesitation. Missing D, he quickly recovered his mislaid attack, and slashed at the dhampile with his tail. Landing on the damp cement floor, the fiend growled, and bared his long, sharp teeth. Swerving around, the demon raised along the wall--attacking D from behind as the dhampile tried to block with his weapon.

 

Jumping around the lizard, the handsome warrior slashed at his attacker with his long sword, missing just by a hair. The demon was quite fast—slithering around the narrow room with ease. Not needing the amount of space D required, the creepy little devil continued barraging the helpless hunter with his claws and tail. Suddenly, the demon went still, averting his gaze towards the foyer above. Almost as if by a silent command, he nodded his head, accepting an unknown bidding. Not waiting for D to attack again, the lizard-demon slithered along the ceiling and up the wall to the stairs.

 

Tempted to follow him, D instead turned, continuing his search for the Dosley girls. He would find that demon later and kill it just like he had his brother. Right now though, D knew that it was more important to recover those girls. Making his way to the end of the corridor, he rushed towards the woman he had heard before. There, in the middle of the largest cell, she hung suspended from large chains in a vertical `spread eagle' position. Her head was down hiding her face from view, but D could already tell she wasn't one of the Dosley girls he searched for.

 

Long, soiled half-braided black hair clung to her sweat-soaked naked body; her pale, perfect form sending a shiver down D's spine. Lit from behind by yellow lanterns, she remained still; her pale skin giving her the appearance of death. Following her sleek curves up from her long legs to her smooth, ample breasts, he felt his heart tremble a bit as he stared at her. I'm too late, he looked away sadly. I'm very sorry I couldn't help you. Solemnly, he shook his head, apologizing sincerely to her corpse. Turning around, he slowly started to go back into the corridor.

 

“Wait,” A worn out voice from behind D stopped him in his tracks. Turning around, he was shocked to see the woman's head bob slightly as she struggled to lift it. “Don't leave me here.”

 

Slowly approaching this woman, the dhampile cautiously scanned her body. Giving her a closer look, he noticed the pointed ears she had--trademark of the vicious fiends he hunted. “Vampire!” he condemned her, rearing back. Drawing his sword, he narrowed his eyes at her. “Fiend, I should kill you for distracting me on my hunt!”

 

“No,” she coughed, sending dark blood flying through the cold cell. Lifting her face, her grey eyes burned into his. She was beautiful, even with the dried blood covering her skin. Her wounds had already rapidly begun to heal, and she now was able to pull on her chains with full force again. “I'm not a fucking vampire! I'm a dhampile.” She hissed at him for his accusation. “Don't you ever call me that again!” She stared coldly into him, hatred clouding her lovely eyes.

 

Cocking his head slightly, D straightened his back and stared into her face. She had vampire teeth, and vampire ears, but something in those eyes of hers made D wonder if she really was telling the truth. Those beasts were too evil to have such warm eyes. Putting away his weapon, he quickly looked over her body again.

 

“What the hell are you looking at? Why don't you just let me out of here, asshole!” Her accent was thick and beautiful, and it sounded very old. D hadn't heard anything like it before, so he assumed she was an ancient at the very least. Maybe even older than he was; but, that couldn't be possible.

 

If she was a dhampile, she couldn't be more than a few thousand years old. Hardly any dhampiles lived as long as he had; succumbing to their evil side, they eventually all turned at one point or another. Or they just died of old age. He was unique; not every dhampile was cursed with an immortal life like his. Curious about her true nature, he watched her closely.

 

“Tell me, why should I release you?” He asked her coldly, waiting for a good response. “For all I know, you are a vampire.” Cocking his head slightly, he circled her hanging body, observing her reactions. If she really was a dhampile, this was the first time he had ever spoken to one of his own kind, besides his mother. Settling directly in front of her again, he watched her warm eyes turn to fire.

 

Getting pissed, she hurled her body forward, attempting to hit his. Falling short, she cursed him and narrowed her eyes. “Just let me out of here! I am telling you the truth!” Suddenly, she thought of the perfect proof. “Wait! Look at my neck, I am wearing a cross.” And she was, too. On a wide black leather choker, a narrow silver cross lay in the center of her slender neck; its long edges going off the fabric and touching her skin. Proving her heritage, it also attractively adorned her neckline, making it irresistible.

 

A vampire can't wear something like this; she is a dhampile after all. D badly wanted to touch her in that tender spot, right near the center of her neck. Usually, he'd be tempted to taste her blood instead; but seeing as she was a dhampile like him—and immune to vampire bites—he felt a new urge grow inside his mind. One he couldn't quite explain. She was beautiful, that was true; but his desires for her went deeper than that. Something about this woman stirred a brand new sensation inside his heart—like having his lungs choked from within—not being able to breathe, but trying to anyway. Why do I feel like this?

 

Calming down a bit, she suddenly dropped her head and pleaded. “Please, I am begging you. Let me out of here. I have to find him…I have to find my Gabriel. If he is hurt somewhere--” Tears streamed down her smooth face as her voice softly broke into a sob. “It is all my fault, please...” She was serious.

 

It was hurting his heart to see her cry like that. She wasn't even looking at him anymore, hanging her head with sorrow—tears falling from her face to the dingy, stained floor. Without a word, D took out his sword and slashed at the chains near her ankles. After a moment, her legs were free to pick themselves from their outspread position. As he worked on the stronger ones grasping her arms, he heard the softest `thank you' come from her lips. Dropping to the floor, after the last chain had been cut, the woman clutched her wrists as the lacerations around them quickly healed. Brushing the dry blood away, she covered her body with her arms as she shifted—her knees drawn up to her chin. Sitting there, exposed, she turned her face from D in shame. Hearing some rustling cloth, she looked back at him just as he covered her with his tattered cape.

 

“It's cold down here.” He knelt near her body, gazing at her. “I'm sorry I didn't release you sooner,” he apologized with his sad eyes, “I've never met another dhampile before. What is your name?”

 

“Did you see him? Have you seen a young, blondish haired man—a dhampile like us around here? Did you see anyone like that while you were hunting in this castle?” Her voice was quick and wild. She didn't care what D was saying to her; she needed to find Gabriel.

 

“…No…I didn't see anyone else besides you and those two demons.” He was a little disappointed that she ignored his question. Still kneeling beside her, he watched her worried face as it changed expressions.

 

“Are you sure no one else was down here?”

 

“Yes, I've checked all of the cells—you are alone.” He wanted to press the issue of her name again, but remained silent. She brushed some loose hair off of her face, pulling it behind her ears. That feeling overwhelmed him again.

 

Standing up clutching D's cape, the woman quickly fashioned a tightly draped `dress' of sorts around her naked body. He must not be here. A look of relief passed over her face. Good boy, Gabriel. Pulling a blood-red ribbon from her hair, undoing her long braid, she belted the cloth around her small waist--securing the cape in place. I hope you are safe at home, she tugged at the garment to loosen it in places. Don't worry my dear, I will be home soon. Shifting a bit in the unusual getup, she looked down at D with a governing expression. She was used to being in control.

 

“My name is Icellina,” she rolled the exotic name off her tongue beautifully. “You're a dhampile as well, eh? That's nice.” She had seen his revealing features when he had cut her chains. Knowing immediately that he was of her kind, and not a vampire, she relaxed in his company. “Tell me, my dark rescuer, what should I call you?” There was playfulness in her tone, but D fought to ignore it. Standing up, he walked nearer to her.

 

“…D…” He continued walking on by. He had done his part, and now he must be on his way. Even if he longed to stay near to this strange woman, he had to find those two girls. Stepping into the corridor, he was interrupted once again.

 

“I've heard of you, hunter.” She quickly passed him into the tunnel. “You're quite famous—give our kind a good name.” Smirking, she rested her body against one of the jail-cell bars. “So, who could you be hunting now I wonder? A vampire, no doubt.” She teased him again, wasting his time with her pointless conversation. Becoming serious, she suddenly looked directly into his eyes. “Maeken?”

 

That word caused his body to stiffen. “You've seen him here?”

 

“Not here.” She flatly looked at him. “He never came to this castle. Those minion bastards of his tortured me, for…” She made a face. During her imprisonment, she had lost track of time. “…well, for at least a few days now. Maeken never showed up—not once. Stupid lizards kept chanting his name, though. Drove me crazy.” She pointed up, towards the main floor of the castle. “Believe me no one that evil has been here. I would have felt it.”

 

Walking around her, D continued on down the corridor. “I don't have time for your opinions.” Something caught his shoulder, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. A slender, pale hand gripped his leather armor with surprising strength, turning him around to face his captor.

 

“I've felt his power before D. Not here though, in the valley near Grientane. Nothing in this castle even comes close to that horror.” She looked into his eyes. “Just stop for a moment and feel the air around you. Can you feel the deafening roar of evil?”

 

“…No…” He was still being held in place by her hand. Part of him wanted to grab a hold of her as well, but the other part kept him standing there unmoving. “And you can?”

 

“No, that is what I'm telling you. If you waste your time searching through this confusing fortress, you'll miss your opportunity to really catch him.” Her hand played absently with the skin tight armor covering his handsome body. “I heard those minions of his upstairs; Maeken is planning something. Something terrible, the way it sounded, and soon it will go down.” Her voice darkened a little, turning cold. “I kept hearing the phrase, `two sacrifices of gold and blood, equal in every way--yet two different entities…' being chanted in Romanian upstairs. This castle is just another one of his strongholds—a place for Maeken's followers to gather, before his plans are finalized. D, don't waste your time here.”

 

Grabbing her hand with his, he gently removed it from his body and let it drop to her side. He was done talking to her now; those two little Dosley girls still were missing. Giving one last long look into her breathtaking eyes, he turned and continued on his journey. Icellina shrugged defeated, watching him disappear into the darkness of the winding corridor.

 

“What a fool. Handsome, but a fool.”

 

Making his way back to the main floor, D took in the familiar sight of the gorgeous foyer; its spectacular decorations almost distracting him from the job at hand. Two sacrifices of gold and blood, Icellina's ethereal voice resonated in his head. That must be in reference to those two Dosley girls. So, that's why they were taken. D gripped the crimson railing as he ascended the marble staircase. They must be upstairs somewhere, waiting to be sacrificed. He was still convinced Count Maeken was here. So what if I feel nothing? His followers are here…and this is a powerful place. Maeken surely would know that. No one would come looking for him here; all are too afraid of this terrible fortress to enter. The Count would be protected by default in this palace; the perfect place to carry out whatever the vampire was planning. At least Icellina gave me more information about Maeken. Maybe rescuing her wasn't a waste of time after all, D made it to the middle of the staircase.

 

Standing on the large platform landing--glancing unsurely between the two separate paths at hand, D made a choice. Going up the left staircase, he felt sure that he made the correct decision in pursuing this lead. I'll find you, Maeken.

 

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Going up the dingy staircase towards the hazy light, Icellina passed through the broken threshold. That damned idiot must have busted down this door. She shook her head at the fragmented wood still hanging broken on rusted hinges. Did he even try the handle first? Hasty bastard. In truth, D reminded Icel of Gabriel in a way; both were stubborn, rash, and hard to get through to. Gabriel. Sneaking her way out of the darkness, the pale beauty slowly slinked into the shadows cast by the immense stone statues lining the sides of the room. It was horrifyingly beautiful, this castle; but she didn't pay attention to it. Finding her weapons, clothing, and possibly even her lover was more important. Gabriel.

 

Moving silently across the crimson garnet floor, she came to the mammoth of a staircase, which wound its way up and out of view. Cautiously touching the banister, she took a step up onto the marble. D must have come the same way, she sniffed the air, finding his unique scent amongst the musk. This castle was old; filled with the stench of neglect and rot. She had been here before--centuries ago, before these new restorations had been made. Everything was new it seemed; the floor, the paintings. The nicely polished banister didn't have a spec of dust anywhere on it. Even that chandelier was a new touch.

 

Someone was fixing this place up nicely, but why? Maeken wasn't here right now--that much she knew. But, perhaps, he planned to come here eventually—and that was why such great care had been taken to make this place the grand splendor it was now. Fucking Maeken…how I'd like shove my fist through your cold heart. If you've touched my Gabriel…She could feel tears forming in her eyes again. No, he is safe—I know it. Pushing the negative thoughts away, she shook her head. I know you're safe.

 

Continuing on up the stairs, the woman slowly took in the area, scoping it out for those damned lizard demons. There was bunches of them lurking inside this place, not just the two that assaulted her earlier. They stank like rotten eggs and bile, so at least she'd have a warning if they were around. Reaching the landing, she looked hesitant for a minute; the forked staircase led to two different areas. If she followed one—and it contained a trap, she would never get to Gabriel. Hell, she didn't even know if he was here or not. But, her clothes and weapons must be here, somewhere. Why would they throw them out? Those stupid, drooling demons probably took them as souvenirs. Closing her eyes, she concentrated her senses to find an answer. Which way should I go?

 

Slowly shifting to the right, her body told her its opinion. Taking the hint, she followed her instincts and ascended up the stairs. I hope I find my damn clothing soon, this cape is making me itch. She scratched absentmindedly at her waist line, trying to locate the spot that bothered her. Reaching the top of the stairs, she found herself looking into a long hallway; Cherry wood doors, arched and vibrantly decorated with stone urns and roses lined the path. A blood-red carpet lay on top of the marble floor—acting as a grand walkway for nobility. Maeken, she assumed. This must be his designated wing. Following the carpet, Icellina began down the domed corridor. Paintings with angels and demons were beautifully added to the ceiling—something that was also new. This renovation sure must have been expensive. Only the best for their `Master', eh…

 

 

The hallway was very fragrant—a mixture of lavender and roses hit Icel as she went further down the pathway. It was a welcome change from the putrid odor of death she dealt with during her torture, but it was also overwhelming to her sensitive nose. Picking one of the doors in the hallway, she gently pressed her face next to the well-lacquered surface. Inhaling deeply, she inspected the room for lizard presence. Once it passed the test, she turned the gold knob gently and opened the door.

 

It was gorgeous; crimson colored garnet acted as the floor, with off-white marble walls and giant, floor length windows cut into the stone with care. A gargantuan fireplace grew out from the garnet on one side, spanning up the wall gracefully. In the center of the room, a carved marble sarcophagus sat facing the window; its structure causing a shiver to run up Icellina's spine. It wasn't the one in the carriage--that night in the valley, but it must belong to Maeken regardless. His custom one, she scoffed at the thought. The cherry-stained one in that carriage must just be his traveling gear. Walking over to the marble structure, she hesitated, looking at her partially see-through reflection in its shiny surface. Tempted to open the tomb, she instead kept a wary eye on it as she continued her search of the room. Her clothes weren't in here. Going back into the corridor, she gave another fleeting look at that marble coffin, and closed the door.

 

Damn, she looked into another couple rooms, feeling the initial determination start to wear thin. Maybe I should just forget about my stuff, and go find Gabriel. She put her hand on the last door's doorknob. Unlike the others, this knob was rusted and ancient-looking. But, she knew it was no reflection on the interior of the room. The surprise was over now; each room had the same similar splendor of the first. Feeling disappointed, she twisted the brittle object slowly, opening the last door with a low creaking noise. This room was dim, and the sudden change in atmosphere chilled the dhampile to the bone.

 

Looking around for a lantern, Icellina searched in the shadows of this strange place. Finally finding a light switch, she illuminated the room. Staring wide-eyed into the interior of this room, she couldn't get over what decorated this place. Unlike the others on this floor, this was a terrible place; a giant pentacle was carved roughly into the bare wood floor, a great white eye in its center. Dark dealings, she carefully avoided this design, and walked towards the far wall. There were weapons of all sorts here; shurikens, knives, swords. Even a few odd shaped sickles and hammer-like contraptions were here. Laying near the top of the pile were her weapons, still intact in their sheaths, but wrapped in strange white cloth. Weird scrolling symbols were printed on the cloth; some in black, others written blood it seemed. Must be some sort of ritual cleansing spell. Throwing off the fabric impatiently, Icellina claimed her prizes—belting her sword around her waist, and attaching her garter and dagger combo to her right thigh. Ah, that's a lot better. Now, about my clothes…

 

She looked over the plain-looking room again. It was boorish in design; plain wood walls, rotted and deteriorating from centuries of neglect, practically turning to ash where they stood. An unvarnished, decayed wood floor, that smelled of old cheese and road kill, ran underneath her the length of this room. Splintering, crude tables along the ugly walls holding various items, cloth, and candles were just about the only means of decoration this disgusting place had. This room seemed so out of place—like it wasn't supposed to be part of the castle at all. Icellina walked over to a pile of cloth on one of the tables. Her clothing wasn't there. They better not have tossed it. It took me so long to make. She narrowed her eyes, and suddenly saw something very familiar. In the corner of the room, on top of an ugly stone slab, a black leather corset laid waiting for her to find. Rushing over to it, she began undoing the belts around her waist and dropped D's cape to the floor. She didn't notice the door creak open behind her.

 

The towering dhampile stood in the doorway, catching Icel as she flung his cape off her body and onto the floor. Seeing her perfect form exposed again, he turned his face away and cleared his throat.

 

“I see you're still here.” He tried his hardest to avoid her direction. He wanted to look, but she had gotten so mad the last time. She wasn't confined with those chains anymore, so he didn't dare anger her again.

 

Jumping from surprise, Icellina quickly picked the cape off the floor and shielded herself with it. “How dare you!” She barked at him. She was really angry at herself more than anything; he had managed to sneak up to her. She was being careless—something she tried hard to avoid doing. Calming down, she stared coldly at his turned face. “Turn around the entire way D. I've found my clothing—I'll return your cape in a moment.”

 

Doing as instructed, D turned to face the door. Hearing a rustling sound, the dhampile listened quietly as the woman removed his cape once again, and put on her leather corset. Lacing up the back, she tightly fastened it—tying the black strings off near the top--into a small little bow. Clinging to her sexy curves, it pushed up her large breasts and created an attractive hourglass shape. Finding her tight black skirt in the same area, she quickly pulled it up her long legs to her hips. It fell just shy of the tops of her thighs, showing off her lean, alluring legs. Lacing the dark ties on the partially open sides, she secured it into place. Replacing her belt and sword around her waist, she smiled. Almost done. With a skillful hand, she re-braided her long, thigh-length hair, tying it off with the red ribbon that had been her temporary belt while wearing D's cape. Finding her pointed toe, knee-high black boots on the floor behind the slab, Icellina quickly completed her outfit. The three-inch narrow heel of her boots raised her to the 5'6” height she was used to. She was a stunning sight to behold now, completely relaxed in her regular attire. A dark beauty.

 

Walking towards D's back, she gently touched his shoulder, causing him to spin around. Handing D his cape, she bowed gracefully to him—spreading her arms away from her body fluidly, bending where she stood.

 

“I have to thank you, D. Not just for letting me use your cape, but for releasing me from my prison. Thank you, for your kindness.” She ended her deep bow and stood back up, looking into his eyes. Suddenly giving him a coy smile, she pressed her body against his and lifted herself onto her tiptoes. “So you'll remember me when you've resumed your hunt.”

 

He was so tall, even with her heels on he still towered over Icel. Giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek she added a little spice to their parting. It took the vampire hunter by surprise, but he didn't resist the affection. Instead, he a little was disappointed when it ended. Opening the door, she stood in the threshold, looking at him serenely.

 

“I hope that we meet again D. If you are ever in the Grientane Valley area, look me up. I live in a cave outside the town of Westera with my student, Gabriel. You're forever welcome there.” She remained in the doorway, thinking. Will I ever see you again, D? Walking out of the room, pausing in the corridor, she turned to look at him one last time. “Goodbye, my dark rescuer.” She quickly disappeared down the hallway.

 

After a long pause, D shifted where he stood. Looking down at the cape in his hands, he quietly whispered.

 

“Goodbye.”