Sanguine

A Night of Wonders

Mircalla's party had started from the morning and delved on deep into the night, but even after the sun had set, the adventure was far from over. Instead, what followed was a night of wonders. After Magdalena's specter had left Mircalla, Mircalla's sense slowly but surely returned to her. She could still feel a stinging burn in her neck but could not move to alleviate the pain. Instead, she could only feel herself getting weaker as the tall shadow of Magdalena pulled away.

"Dearest sister, thou shalt finally know of mine," she hissed darkly. "And I hope that it punisheth thou for all thy life..." she added with a growl. Mircalla could only stare up at her in pain. Magdalena continued to stare back down at her for a moment more before vanishing. Right before Mircalla's very eyes, Magdalena simply vanished completely, not a trace of her to be seen anywhere. Mircalla's strength continued to wane as the seconds passed until she too, like Magdalena, had simply vanished entirely.

The next thing Mircalla was aware of was screaming. All voices of all timbres were screaming. They were screaming her name, screaming for help, screaming prayers, screaming in terror. It was nothing but an orchestra of sounds. It was loud and Mircalla longed for it to all stop and go away, but she was still paralyzed, now unable to open her eyes. She could feel everything. She could feel people touching her frantically and poking and prodding her, but she was unable to respond to any of it. She was totally aware of her surroundings but unable to do a thing about it. She had no way of telling everyone she was ok. She no way of demanding for them to leave her alone. All she could do was lie there like a corpse as the living people around her panicked at and about her.

At last, however, a priest arrived. She felt his presence before she heard him, then he began to chant an age-old prayer that she, herself, had spoken on many occasions. Even on the day she became a countess, Mircalla had chanted this prayer and although her level of faith in the prayer had waxed and waned through the years, hearing it now burned her. It caused her great physical pain and it was finally enough to set her free. She could feel her senses of dread, distress, disgust and disdain rising until she began to twitch. She broke out of her paralysis and tremble in fear and pain, trying to get the priest to cease his prayers and blessings. But it was dark. Even the lamps weren't enough and the priest failed to see Mircalla begin to twitch. Instead, his old voice continued its wavery chant while Mircalla's pain continued to escalate and her twitches grew more frequent.

At last, the priest made the sign of the cross upon Mircalla, slipping a little iron cross into her grasp. The moment his fingers and the cold metal touched Mircalla, however, it was over. Mircalla jumped up like a singed cat with a cry of pain that was almost unholy to hear. She cried out in agony, throwing the cross far away from herself as she hopped up. She was suddenly able to move again and she was even more swift and agile than ever before. She darted around the room wildly, just as frantic as her family and servants who were all in horror to see Mircalla suddenly literally climbing the rafters and snarling in wrath and agony. Then Mircalla gradually grew aware of another heightened sense in her. Smell. And everything smelled so good and she was so very thirsty...

Mircalla went on a mindless rampage through her own castle, tearing apart and turning into a red mist whatever crossed her path. Fists, fingers, nail and teeth, or rather, fangs, were out and Mircalla tore through flesh and bone to get what she wanted. She killed anyone in her way, man, woman or child. She sank her teeth/fangs into skin. She pierced all the way through to the veins and let the liquid fire, the life essence, fill her mouth and throat and slide down hotly. It burned a satisfying trail down and only made her hungrier and hungrier. It was sweeter and thicker than warm milk or even the finest of wines in the world.

"Back! Demon! Back!" the priest came out of nowhere, waving his cross wildly and crying to God. Mircalla screeched an inhuman cry once more and slammed her fists over her ears. The priest only grew more incensed and stepped forward while Mircalla backed up.