Chapter Text
“Finally…..Finally….!”
The man in white and scarlet was in a mixture of shock and awe at his own accomplishment. He really did it. It was finally done. Blade The Vampire Slayer was defeated. He was drowning in invisible chains, forced on his knees, there on his pedestal to keep him in a constant state of weak. Have him be his blood bag for power and potential. The world was finally in a state of pure uncertainty…..
“For now, Drac. You and I know I’ll get out of here eventually. You’ll never actually win….” Despite his fatigue he would forever have a strong will. His mental strength was unlike any other. Telepaths could never break through. They always chopped it up to his vampire blood. Never did they assume he was so mentally sound. One has to be when forever hungry.
“Perhaps….Perhaps they may, but until then….I shall enjoy the fruits of my labor. FINALLY!” He was cackling away in pure glee. The echos of thousands of bats and fellow vampires joined him in such a celebration. Truly a day of revolution for them all. The Slayer was chained. Locked. Down. He could pull and fight all he wanted, but these hexes and curses would keep him secured. There was no escape for him. Not this time.
Deep down the King Of Darkness knew Eric would find a way to escape. He always had. Every plan was a failure. The only reason he was able to get him was because of Doom’s help. Even then, there were lies and manipulation to force Victor’s hand. If Victor knew Dracula’s truest intentions he would have killed the King himself.
There are some lines even Victor Von Doom would never cross.
Perhaps a new course of action is needed to defeat the slayer. One he’s never tried before. Perhaps it is time for his own reward.
If he escapes, more like when, he will make sure he leaves with a crack that will never heal. To break him in ways that would ensure his life is forever a tortured one. Even worse than now. Even worse than knowing his hunger can kill. He will break him to where he can never truly look at his reflection again. To cut the world away. Feed into his darkness. Pray for death.
He will break him.
Dracula would walk around the podium he had Eric displayed on. Those yellow eyes were staring at him whenever he circled around. Yellow of rage and power. Not those pretty wine red when at rest. If he had to admit anything it was that the Dhampir had some of the most beautiful eyes he had seen in centuries. He won’t see those pretty reds for a while, but eventually he will.
“Oh there is so much I wish to do with you. So many plans. So many desires. Oh what to do first….Perhaps I shall feed you? You must be so hungry. How is fresh blood from a virgin?” He taunted, just for Eric to spit directly into his face.
So much bite.
It’ll be so satisfying to break him.
Dracula would casually wipe away the spit, only to lick it off his own lanky fingers. Eric’s anger and determination was just a delicious flavor to the cake before him. He was starving but knew he had to wait. He couldn’t enjoy his dessert when it wasn’t fully baked yet.
“No manners. So unlike a proper vampire-“
“Because I’m not a ‘proper vampire’ you fucken bastard. I never will be. No matter what you do to me I won’t join you. I won’t end up like you. You won’t have the last laugh. I’ll keep fighting. I’ll keep living. You will never win.”
“So determined. Let us count how long it takes until you crumble. I’ll leave you to ponder. I have important things to attend to. Good night, Brooks. Sleep well.
A dramatic flare of his cape and he was in a mist of bats. Flew upwards towards the blood moon. Scattered across the sky as Eric was trapped in his horrible posture. Forced on his knees, back bent, head down, and only able to stare at the broken sunglasses under him. A mockery of his defeat.
“I’ll get out of here. Imma get out and you’ll regret it.” He hissed to himself, as he tried to somewhat conserve his energy. Rather impossible with how he was chained. Invisible but he could feel them. Heavy they were, always warm with how they were sucking his energy away. He could already feel fatigue kick in. Fighting would only make them drain him harder and faster. All he could do was sit and think.
Sit and wait.
Sit and hope.
Someone will come and save him, right? Any day now. Any moment. He will be saved.
Any moment now.
Any….moment…….now……