Heavy wings beat loudly in the night air. It seemed that a little more, and the wind itself would beg for mercy, would beg not to torture him any more, to leave him alone. But Garghal, nicknamed the Bloodthirsty Prince, is not used to listening to anyone’s pleas. On the contrary, he accelerated so much that the night, ripped open by the sharp horns of the higher vampire, really whimpered thinly.
Garghal surveyed his domain. Until recently, he ruled a bunch of bloodthirsty creatures in another world – a world that would have seemed strange, perverted and drowning in the thirst for cruelty to the inhabitant of Signum. The time spent in senseless feasts, debauchery and murders was seen by the aristocratic vampire as frozen, curdled, like stale blood. But then something happened that turned the unlife of Garghal upside down and gave him the meaning of existence. Lilith herself drew attention to him – the bloody goddess of vampires, the mistress of their world, the queen of the cursed. A simple acquaintance quickly grew into a passion as twisted as the very existence of vampires. Lilith and Garghal took bloody baths, tore each other’s flesh, indulging in all-consuming passion, killed for each other. Being close to the goddess changed the vampire, changed his body and mind, he became stronger, more terrible, more bloodthirsty. And then the goddess said:
– You will conquer Signum for me.
So simply, not by a question or request, but by a statement of fact, as the only possible truth, the fate of the Bloodthirsty Prince Garghal was determined. He went to the world of Signum, to the lands of Styx, and began to gather an army for his beloved. Some vampires gladly joined the new leader, others had to be persuaded by force. Some were never convinced, their heads adorned the walls of Garghal’s castle.
And now the Bloodthirsty Prince was not just raping the night, rushing over the dense thicket, but looking out for potential warriors. He heard a rumor that somewhere on the very border of the Styx and the Free Baronies, human youth is being found, either young aristocrats who have gone on a spree, or lost villagers. Young growth was very easy to persuade under the banners of Lilith and even easier to kill if you decide to rebel against the mistress, so Garghal preferred to personally convert and recruit newcomers.
And here they are – two guys and two girls, huddled together by a barely smoldering fire. Strong in appearance, clearly accustomed to hard work. Peasants. Well, later they would have to be taught manners, and biting through unwashed necks is not as pleasant as the clean, perfumed skin of baronial children, but Garghal was ready for such sacrifices. All in the name of Lilith. In the name of her glory and majesty!
The vampire dived towards the fire. On the fly, he grabbed one of the guys, stuck his fangs into the neck in the air, drank it and threw it at the second peasant, knocking the latter down. The girls did not even try to run away, they just sat and whined, looking at the winged and horned monster with round eyes of horror. Their blood tasted like turnips and onions, their skin stank of dung, but the Bloodthirsty Prince didn’t care. After drinking all four of them almost dry, he ripped open his wrist and, in turn, brought it to the lips of each of the still people.
The fire shrunk and went out, as if horrified by what had happened. In the forest clearing lay four bodies that were soon to become new warriors in the army of Prince Garghal and Queen Lilith.
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