Alexander & Vampiress: Trapped Vampiress

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Unless otherwise stated, this conversation is private to the rest of the group

…After fighting a powerful vampire as well as many undead warriors and other zombies, Alexander kept the vampire from receding into sanctuary with the power of his holy symbol. During the time the ethereal form of the vampire attempted to pass by the guarding form of Alexander, by tempting him. This is that conversation.

“Why dost thou hinder me priest? Let me pass…” came a silent seductive voice inside the head of Alexander.

He did not respond to her, his eyes cold, staring at the ethereal form of the vampire maiden hovering in front of him.

“Thou art a servant to a goddess, but methinks it is not for piety but power that thy heart is swayed. To serve a goddess is a path to power, it is sure; but why not more power then she may grant a mere human… let me pass and I will give thee a taste of power to quench the thirst of any mortal.”

Alexander looked beyond the spiritual form of the vampire maiden and to the paladin, and frowned.

“Ahh… I see thee looking beyond at the mannequin that stands with fanatic eyes. Think thee that the eyes of a zealot can see with clarity? Is it not so that their mind is misted with blind loyalty? Fear not, son of the Witch Goddess… that wench cannot hear my words, for I speak to thy heart, as I hear thy heart’s true lusts and needs.”

“So you can see inside my heart and spirit then? Well, I presume you can read my thoughts, too? Then why are you trying to persuade me to follow you? You know what I think, and you know what I’ll say,” he responded in the silent safety of his own subconscious.

“Arrogant youth…” she hissed. “I cannot know thy answers before thou would give them, but I can yet perceive thy lusts. Imagine then, boy, the power of un-life. Living beyond the realms of mortals many times over; with power to control the forces of the darkness beyond thy knowledge and knowing. Consider that, and tremble in awe at the power I shall share with thee, should thee let me pass.”

“You talk very well for someone who can’t move beyond a mere holy symbol,” he responded gamely, a trickle of sweat starting at the small of his back.

“Fool,” she railed back. “Let me pass and thou shall live forever, thy power will increase many times over. Whatever goal or dreams thy have in this life shall be granted a thousandfold. Let me pass and I shall bring thee true power.”

Alexander said nothing, wetting his lips, a bead of sweat running down his cheek. He looked at the paladin beyond the vampire, who possessed a somewhat bored though determined look, clearly not privy to the mental debate he had with the evil spirit between them.

“Do you fear that one?” the vampire asked, a touch of mockery in her voice. “I promise thee this, mortal, let me pass and I shall end her life first, before I give thee power. Or perhaps it would be of a pleasure to ensnare her mind and make her a slave for thee to torment as thee wish.”

“Why would you say that? Why should I wish to torment her or hurt her? She is my ally.”

“Do not think thy thoughts can mask thy emotions. She is no friend of thine, and thou despise her.”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, you bitch.”

“Thou poor misguided mortal … I know more then thou think. Thou shall never equal her piety, her honor, her holy righteousness. Thou art a mere shadow of what she is, and thou shall never surpass it. Thus it is only right and just that thy shall hate her for it, as thou art consumed with jealousy for what you can never be.”

“You’re full of dung,” Alexander hissed.

The spirit of the vampire maiden laughed mockingly in his head.

“Thy greatest assets shall always fall short of the power of such as she. Thou worships a goddess of twilight, neither darkness nor daylight. She worships the light; I am the darkness. Each of us will always have greater strength then what thou shall possess. But let me pass and I shall give thee power. Thy crave power… thy seek it beyond all things. I will taste of thy blood and make thee as a god.”

Alexander said nothing, looking beyond to the paladin again.

“I see thy fear; that the paladin would know thy true heart… thy true lusts. Free me and I shall bring her to thy dominion and no one ever need know…”

“You’re talking a lot of filth, scum. I’m not that man, I’m not like that. I’m a good man, and I’m trying to do good things…”

“Lie to thyself if thou would, but do not think that thou can lie to me. Thy destiny is to conquer and rule; and not in the name of goodness or some pitiful noble delusion. Thou shall take the iron scepter of power and make those who defy thee suffer long under thy dominion before thou bring their ultimate doom.”

“I’m not that man… I’m not who you think I am,” Alexander responded through gritted teeth, the sweat heavy on him, his eyes dark. “You’re just talking a lot of filth to confuse me, to deceive me. You want to make me suffer, so you lie to me. I’m a good man, I do good things and help people do good things. I’m not evil, I am pure and honorable.”

“Who are thy truly trying to convince with thy pretty speech?” she rejoined, laughing in his head.

“Thy still cannot comprehend thy presence in this realm, though I know more then thee on your purpose here; but no matter. Slay me now, yes, and let me perish if thy will, but know that in my dieing that I speak the Word of Bond and hex thee with my last thought with this curse; thy shall know power beyond thy dreams and it shall bring thee nothing but despair.”

Alexander suddenly moved his free hand to the hilt of his silver dagger and drew it from its sheath, sliding the glittering blade through the misty transparency, as if trying to stab it, cursing under his breath.

“What are you doing, Lutharo?” the paladin asked, somewhat confused. “You can’t hurt that thing when it’s in that form. Or didn’t they teach you that in your monastery, or wherever you came from?” she added sarcastically.

But Alexander said nothing, the sweat cold on his flesh, and the rage deep in his eyes. But beneath it all was a suddenly terrible fear, a fear of who he really was, of who he would one day become.

A fear of his ultimate destiny.
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