Fangs And Fur

Nightmares

He was running. But it wasn't as fast as he should be able to run. He was a vampire. He should be able to easily run faster than that. He took one glance down at his hands. They were tanned. He stopped for a moment to look at his body. He was wearing sandals, and a purple toga with a silver rim. He reached up to his head, and felt. He could feel the smooth metal of the laurel wreath. He quickly began running again, pressing his eyes closed to try stop the tears from falling. He could hear the shouts coming nearer now. He was their prey. 

He threw himself on the ground behind a big rock, and sent prayers to various Gods and Goddesses, hoping that he wouldn't get caught, and then sat as still as he possibly could. If they got him he would be dead. If they got him they would get Adolpha. And Lucanus. He couldn't lose them! He needed to fight!

He took of the wreath, and looked at the silver metal. It would hopefully be enough. He took a deep breath, and stood up. He turned towards the hunters, and they were there in a second. But they stayed reasonably long enough away from him. He reached out and managed to touch one of the pale bodies with the wreath. It hissed at him. And he thought he had won. But they were smart. One of them picked up a stick, and used it to push the wreath out of Virgil's hand and away from him.

Virgil stared, horrified, after the wreath. And then he looked up at the things standing around him. The one he knew was the leader smirked at him, and came forwards. Virgil turned, and tried to flee. But it was too late. He could feel strong cold hands gripping onto him. And then he felt the teeth in his neck. Then a burning pain. And then....

Nothing. 

Virgil opened his eyes to see a Mare staring down at him, looking confused. He glared up at her, mad. How dared she make him relive that!? Virgil could feel the inner beast trying to break free of his structured self control. It was practically begging to let him let it kill the Mare. He decided that doing it once wouldn't hurt, and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, they were a vibrant purple. Both of them. And his pupils were vertical slits. He smiled up at the Mare. His teeth were all sharp now. Not just his fangs. He pushed the Mare off him, and down onto the floor. He could faintly hear it giving off an inhuman screech, but his ears didn't seem to work like they should. He didn't exactly know what was going on. But the beast inside him was seeming to enjoy it. 

He got out of bed, and walked over to the Mare, who tried to scramble away from him. This only made him grin. He walked over to it, and took a grip on its shoulders. He hauled it up so it was standing, and decided to bite into its shoulder. 

He didn't drink. Instead, he simply stayed there until the beast was sure that enough venom had gotten into it. Then he took his  teeth out of its shoulder. And let it fall limp to the floor. 

The beast seemed content for now, and let him have control again. When he realised what had happened he cursed loudly. In Latin, as he always did when he was angry. But this time, it was himself who he was mad at. Why did he let that happen!?

He sighed. Oh well. At least Roman would be safe. Speaking of Roman, he could hear his footsteps coming nearer. He ran a hand through his messy purple hair with a sigh. He wasn't really in the mood to talk with Roman. 

But he did. When Roman opened the curtains, a beam on sunlight hit his bare arm, and he had hissed in pain. The beast inside of him had begged to be let out and for Virgil to attack Roman. But Virgil pushed it down. Successfully.

As soon as Roman left, Virgil sighed, and got a good look on his arm. Where the sun had hit his arm was grey, and looked like it was about to crumble and fall off in small pieces. Virgil focused hard, and lightly touched the grey. He winced. It was not a pleasant pain that went through him. It was truly painful. It wasn't dulled by his thousands of years of experiencing pain. No, this was very ver real pain. And Virgil hated that kind of pain.

He focused harder, and a faint purple glow came out of his finger, and transferred over to the grey. Which slowly got lighter, and was soon once again pure white. 

Virgil felt the effect of using his magic immediately. 

He felt the tiredness washing over him, and decided to go back to bed. But he couldn't fall asleep quickly as he had hoped. So he lay awake in the bed, staring at the tattoo of a wolf howling at the moon on his arm. It was made in dark blue. Her favourite colour. 

Soon enough, Virgil fell asleep. But it was restless, and filled with faces. The faces of people he had once known. There was his brother, and sister. His mother. His nephew. His many adoptive sons and daughters. He didn't have another nightmare. But remembering those people was practically worse than having nightmare. He missed all of them so much. And they came in order. The ones he had known very long ago came first, and then came the ones he had known later on. 

In between the faces there were one that kept on appearing again and again. It was himself. But it was when he let the beast take control, and attack. His pupils were small slits, and his eyes were glowing purple. Some of his tattoos were glowing too when he was like that, and he was always grinning at himself, showing off his many very sharp teeth.

The last thing Virgil saw before he woke up was himself. It was from behind. His hair was both braided and in a ponytail, and he could faintly see a tattoo of a red wolf on the back of his neck. He didn't have that tattoo in real life. He was sure that it wasn't the beastly himself, since this him seemed calm. And not like it was about to rip someone apart. But he couldn't be completely sure. 

And then Virgil woke up.