Oh Hell

Introduction: Emerge

Shadow cast itself across the candlelit room as he fashioned his cape over his shoulders. The mirror image was nothing short of stunning. Slick black hair with the most sharp silver sheen, green eyes, skin the same ivory as the rest of the undead in his family. Sharp suit, red lined cape.

Dracula...trying too hard.

He almost sighed at her voice in his head. If he gave her any credence, it could spark her and she would be wanting more. Not that she didn't already.

With a keen heel, he turned toward the door and secretly delighted in his footsteps falling in the empty corridor that lead directly to his father's study. It was never any surprise, however, that his older brother was already in the company of their father. Not for tutelage, but for reprimanding.

"...you must remember your pride," his father's voice came from the doorway. "We are the most royal of the families, you are a prince, the oldest heir. Can you not behave?"

"Is that what this is about? I didn't mean to break the streetlight," Dreyfus' voice came afterward, the level of disinterest in the conversation already at a personal maximum for him.

Oh no...go gloat! Tell father you are certainly the better child. The best. He will favor you over Dreyfus and you can have the crown soon.

Even if he had wanted to barge in and do just that, he could not give in. Father would favor him for his own merits, not because of Dreyfus' failures.

"Maethus...step in. It's rude to stand outside the door and listen," his father said from the other side of the door, not quite catching him in a willingness to be an eavesdropper.

He stepped forward and through the door. His father stood in a silver suit with the finest rose cuff links, his own hair slicked back away from his face. Dreyfus, on the other hand, sat in a suit that looked dirty, knees ripped, his hair unkempt and long enough to drape over his collar, a serious violation of Sylverthorne high standards.

Both were given the same lecture at length. House honor, honor your parents, take pride in yourself. And, much to Maethus' chagrin, he was not in any more favor in his father's eyes than Dreyfus was.

"Your experiments are concerning," was his father's great sentiment. "You have shown absolutely no ethics with your magical pairings, unwilling to listen to our own clerics, seers, and magi. The two of you have completely opposite paths and neither of you is a contender for my direct successor."

Dreyfus rolled his eyes. Maethus only gave a nod of understanding and he knew, in that terrible moment, what he must do.

So, that evening, upon return to his bedroom, he removed his cape and called to her in the darkness of his mind.

"I will never be ready for you to come forth, but you will escape whether I let you or not. You are no longer locked away."

Not knowing what to expect, Maethus was quite disappointed when there was no immediate separation, no immediate banter, no burning...nothing. He moved to the mirror to practice a speech only to see a reflection that was not his own.

There she stood. Five foot, one inches tall. Long black hair with the same silver sheen as his own, skin as white as the keys on his untouched piano. Where his eyes were green, hers burned red, as deep as ruby fire.

"You are letting me out," she asked with a grin that would match his if he ever actually smiled.

"Yes," he said. "You are free."

She laughed, deeply. "I never needed your permission. I was always waiting for the perfect time."

"Is now not good enough a time?"

"No," she said with the shake of her head. "When you're asleep and can't censor me like you do now."

He took a deep breath and have a curt nod. He understood she had wanted her freedom from him for the last 15 years. His soul bonded twin, a demon with the sharped of horns, would be unleashed. It would not be a horrible surprise. His parents had been waiting patiently. She had been waiting, not nearly as patiently as them.