Viktor paced back and forth in the throne room. He spared a glance at Marcus' tomb and then settled himself on the stone throne that graced the raised dais. Kraven entered and sank to his knees before his lord.

"You called for me, my lord?"

"Yes, yes," Viktor said, "I have a task for you." He put his fingers together in front of his mouth, forming a steeple and gazed over them at the man who now stood before him. Kraven raked a hand through his dark shoulder length hair, and shifted in what appeared to Viktor a nervous manner. Viktor narrowed his eyes.

"I want you to alert the Death Dealers. We will penetrate Lucian's fortress as soon as night falls. Ambrose will lead the company." Viktor dropped his hands to his side and stared icily at the younger Vampyre, who was bowing his agreement. "We must slay Lucian if this war is to come to a halt. Tonight is our night. The War ends now."

"I understand, my lord."

Viktor heaved a sigh as Kraven left him. This is it. After tonight, the War would be over. Lucian would be dead and the Lycans would be vanquished. There was no way they could fail.

Kraven stalked through the halls of the manor. He entered the armory where silver weapons hung from the cold stone walls, a promise of death. Kraven spotted Ambrose sharpening a nasty looking curved sword.

"Suit up. We leave now."

The Vampyre pushed a dirty brown strand of hair from his face and flashed green eyes at Kraven. "It's about time," he said and stood up, swinging the large sword up in front of him. The polished silver gleamed in the moonlight that was spilling through the windows.

Kraven sat at the desk in his quarters, hastily scrawling a message on a crumpled piece of parchment. As he finished, he waved the paper hastily to allow the ink to dry and then rolled it up and used a piece of leather to tie it to the leg of a hawk sitting patiently on a perch beside him. He coaxed the hawk onto his outstretched arm and threw open the window. The hawk leapt from his arm in a blur of brown feathers. Kraven watched his descent, silhouetted against the full moon, before disappearing into the growing darkness.

Lucian sat, sprawled, in the ruin of a throne in the hall of his fortress. The castle had risen high and mighty in an age far gone. Now it lay in the crumbling ruins of war, a fitting place for a Lycan community.

Lone Lycans moved about the fortress in the cloaking darkness, trying not to disturbed their brooding master. Raze entered the hall as a hawk swooped through an open window to circle about the ceiling before coming to rest on the back of the throne on which Lucian sat. He lured the bird closer and removed the message bound to his leg. He opened the scroll to find one word written in red ink.

Nightfall

Lucian glanced up at Raze who was gazing at the note in anticipation.

"Ready the troops," Lucian told his second in command.

Raze gave a curt nod and went to do as he was bid. Lucian stroked the feathers of the hawk, now perched on his arm. It rubbed its head against his fingers affectionately. A sad look crossed Lucian's face as he curled his preternatural fingers around its silky feathered throat and ripped its head from its body. Warm blood splashed onto his hands. He laid the body and head at the foot of the throne. What a pity, he thought, as he licked the red fluid from his fingers.

Death Dealers adjusted armor or polished weapons as they prepared for battle. Ambrose pulled a leather strap tight across his shoulder, securing his breastplate. The great curved sword he had been laboring over earlier was now sheathed at his hip. Several silver daggers were hidden on his person, and silver tipped arrows hung in a quiver across his back. He moved to the front of the company and held his arms up, motioning for silence. He got it. The Death Dealers quieted and turned to stare at their commander.

"This is the night, my friends! Tonight we will slaughter those Lycan scum and end the War!" His announcement was met by thunderous cheer and applause.

Kraven was at the back of the room rubbing a cloth over a shiny silver sword. He wore plain armor over a brilliant ruby tunic. His eyes danced over the room from under the curtain of hair that covered his face. Everywhere dark clad Death Dealers readied for war, for victory. He sheathed the sword and moved into the crowd. Kraven stood out like a drop of blood in the darkness. Or so he hoped.

Lucian surveyed his troops; three hundred Lycans were assembled in the great hall of the crumbling fortress. The full moon glowed in the sky, its pale luminescence streaming through slitted windows and the few still in their human form fought the great orb's pull. The warriors wore random pieces of armor that they had stolen from those they had killed. A few had weapons, but most would rely on their teeth, claws, and brute strength. Lucian paced before them and came to a stop in the center of the hall. He absently rubbed two fingers over the amulet he wore around his neck.

A flash of sunlight, a screaming girl, unbearable pain.

Lucian shook his head, as if it would clear the memories and gazed at his army with a new fierceness. He would not fail her, after all these years, he finally would have the upper hand. Soon, soon he would have Viktor on his knees, pleading for his life. Soon he would have his revenge.

It couldn't be soon enough.

Kraven marched with the rest of the Death Dealers as they proceeded to the Lycan fortress. Great warriors from ancient times held their heads high; sure that victory was just within their grasps. Kraven moved silently up behind his commander. Ambrose had been a great warlord in his day, claiming land and riches by the blade of his sword.

Kraven wasn't a warrior. But he could play a warrior's game if he must. And if everything worked according to plan, he wouldn't have to play it much longer.

Viktor watched as his legion of Death Dealers moved out for the attack. The moon rose bright and brilliant in the sky, as visions played across his troubled mind.

Terrible, terrible screams. The same screams that had haunted his dreams for centuries. No. He had done what was necessary. No more.

His uneasiness grew as he watched the tiny dots of his Vampyre army fade into the horizon. There was no reason for him to feel this way. The Lycans were outmatched and outnumbered. There was no way they would triumph. Victory was so close, almost in his grasp; he could taste the sweetness of it on his tongue. His fear slowly ebbed away and was quickly replaced by a confident flame.

Lycans spread throughout the fortress, under the cover of night. Lucian moved to his place, the only one not completely changed. His eyes were filled with the darkness of the wolf and his tongue ran over extended canines in anticipation. Soon. Soon he would be able to taste the lifeless blood flowing from Viktor's mutilated body. Soon he would have his revenge.

A sound reached Lucian's ears. Footsteps, not too far off. They would be here before long. Then the slaughter would begin. Vampyre blood would flow over these ancient stones, in waves.

Lucian signaled to Raze as the Vampyre Death Dealers appeared in the distance. Raze lifted his wolfish head and let a long howl escape his throat. The Vampyres halted as the eerie cry echoed in the shadows. In the light of the full moon they could see Lucian's fortress, a crumbling ruin of a once great castle.

Ambrose signaled his men and proceeded forward. Kraven stayed close behind him. He thought it was a cowardly gesture, hiding behind his commander. But, then, Kraven had never been one to boast of bravery.

The Death Dealers reached the fortress unobstructed. The fortress appeared to be deserted. Ambrose approached the great wooden doors and cautiously signaled to four of his men to pull them open. A screech sounded as ancient hinges creaked open to reveal the stone hall within. Several well-trained warriors went in, staying close to the walls, weapons ready, torches banishing the shadows. The hall was empty.

Ambrose assembled in with Kraven at his heels like a dog. Most of the Death Dealers remained outside the fortress, awaiting Ambrose's command and preventing any rogue Lycans from escaping. Ambrose and several of his warriors scouted the hall, and determined it clear. He had sent several small companies to scout the rest of the interior and kill any Lycans they came across. Ambrose turned in a slow circle, for one last sweep. His gaze stopped on a disintegrating throne at the head of the hall.

Ambrose cautiously approached the throne. He had his sword out and ready. He crept behind the throne and examined the shadows. The throne and the darkness behind it were empty. Ambrose turned and faced his men with a shrug.

"I don't understand, no one's here," Ambrose said. Swords went up as a dark figure appeared from the solid shadows behind Ambrose. A hand gripped his neck before he had time to react and brought a large knife to his throat.

"Don't be so sure."

Screams echoed outside along with the sounds of teeth tearing into flesh and bone. Death shrieks sounded from the depths of the fortress, and the Death Dealers in the hall looked around in surprise as fully transformed Lycans appeared from the previously empty shadows.

"We've been betrayed!" shouted a blonde Death Dealer as the Lycans closed in, snarling.

"Yes," said Lucian in a dangerous voice, "You have. Thank you Kraven, for delivering us the Vampyres."

Ambrose's eyes grew wide at the mention of Kraven's name. He was so shocked that he didn't even think of the silver knives he had on his person.

"You! You coward! I will have your head for this!" Ambrose shouted.

"No," Kraven said. "You won't live long enough to try for it, Ambrose. None of you will live to see me take the Vampyre throne and rule them. An iron-clad peace treaty with the Lycans will insure that."

"Viktor will see you dead!"

"Viktor will see me as a hero! The only survivor to a horrible massacre," Kraven said in an angry tone. He stood boldly now, unlike before. He no longer slunk around like a dog behind his master, but glided with a confidence that Ambrose had never seen in him.

"You will never be anything but a cowardly traitor!" Ambrose shouted. "You have betrayed your Coven and your Species. You will be judged."

"Unfortunately," Kraven said, "You will never know."

Ambrose glared at the man he had perceived a harmless coward. He silently damned the grey-eyed man as the Lycan blade slashed across his throat, spilling his blood to the floor.

As the life seeped from him, he watched his men being slaughtered, torn to pieces by Lycan claws and fangs. The last thing he heard were their silenced screams as their throats were torn from their bodies.

Kraven stood silently in the middle of the room, staring at the floor as his kind fell around him. He pretended not to hear the cries of help, of pain. He tried not to think at all. Lucian walked up to him, licking a bit of Ambrose's blood from his fingers. Kraven was very careful to make eye contact with the Lycan master and not look at Ambrose's mutilated body lying behind him. When Lucian reached him, he began to walk around Kraven, and his gaze immediately went to the floor. The view was not much better; as he found there was blood flooding across the stones in scarlet waves.

Lucian harshly seized him from behind and forced his head up.

"Look at him!"

Kraven tried to pull away, but Lucian threw him at Ambrose's corpse lying in a pool of its own blood. Kraven landed on it and let out a desperate sound of disgust and scurried off of it. Blood covered the front of him. Vampyre blood.

"Your leader was right. You are a coward. You can't even stand to watch your own work," Lucian said to him in a disgusted tone. He threw a knife at him and bared his right forearm. An ornate 'V' was branded into his skin. "Now get your proof and go."

Kraven trembled on the ground, trying to wipe blood from his shirt. He removed his armor and revealed the ruby shirt beneath. The blood blended in so that he could not tell which was the original fabric and which was stained.

Kraven violently tried to wipe the offending liquid from his tunic, to no avail. Lucian tangled his bloody fingers into Kraven's hair and yanked him to his feet. Kraven let out a yelp of pain. A knife was shoved towards him.

"Do it."

Kraven took the knife in trembling hands. He dropped it and when he reached down for it, Lucian's booted foot made contact with his face. He let out a muffled scream as he fell backwards on the floor. He gingerly touched his face and discovered blood was gushing from his crushed nose.

"You bastard..." Kraven lunged at Lucian. Lucian easily pushed him away, and Kraven stumbled over Ambrose's body and landed with his ass in a puddle of blood.

"Not a smart move Vampyre. Don't worry about your pretty face. It will heal. And now your story will be more believable," Lucian said with a snarl of contempt.

He picked up the knife Kraven had dropped, and put the blade to his arm. Blood welled up from the pressure as he slowly cut the hated brand from his flesh. Kraven watched him, slightly dumbfounded, as he slowly extracted himself from the cooling blood.

When Lucian was finished he tossed the branded skin at Kraven. "There is your proof," he snarled, "Now come, we must finish this." Lucian glanced at Raze who was standing in a darkened corner, awaiting his master's command. With a nod, Raze threw back his head and a wolfish cry escaped his throat. Several Lycans outside answered his call.

Howls sounded over the grounds of the fortress. The remainder of the Lycans in the fortress gathered in the hall.

"Come!" shouted Lucian, "Our plan is now set in motion and victory is almost in our grasp!" Louder howls answered his words.

Lucian pulled a torch from the wall. He walked around the hall, lighting hangings, curtains, and bodies aflame. The fire crackled and hungrily spread as Kraven and the Lycans left the fortress.

The rest of the Lycan horde, preying outside the fortress, were encouraged by the flames and set at the remaining Vampyres with a renewed viciousness. Lucian reached the bottom of the stairs that led from the burning fortress and turned towards the lone Vampyre.

"Your kind are dead. Only you remain. Go to Viktor with your proof and your stories. We need not communicate past this point. If I need you I will contact you in a manner I see fit—" Lucian was cut off by Kraven's angry words.

"And if I need you?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something." Moonlight glinted in the master Lycan's steely gaze. "If you betray me Kraven…your fate will be far worse than any means Viktor could come up with."

"I will not betray you, Lycan. My own interests are in this too," Kraven scowled at him. The dried blood on his face cracked with the movement.

"I know, and that is the only reason I trust you." Lucian absently rubbed two bloodied fingers over an amulet around his neck as he gazed at the moon.

"Go now. They will not harm you." Kraven cast one last glare at the Lycan, but Lucian was oblivious, caught in his own thoughts and memories as he gazed fixedly at the glowing moon, fingers working over the amulet.

Kraven sneered his contempt before turning away from Lucian and embarking into the sea of fully formed Lycans and mangled bodies.

As he took his first step off the stone and on to the grass, his foot sunk into the ground, as if it were saturated with rain. He glanced down and saw blood soaking into the soil. Horrified, Kraven finally let himself take in the destruction he had caused.

The field ran red with blood. Corpses and pieces of them were scattered amidst the scarlet. Lycans were bent over their prey, feasting on their enemies' flesh. Every so often one would raise his stained jaw and howl at the moon that cast her eerie glow over the carnage. Moonlight made the blood glisten on the ground, before a cloud turned the battlefield back to darkness.

Not a single soldier had escaped. Several Lycan carcasses were littered with the Vampyre ones, but ultimately it would be a heavy blow for the Vampyre forces. Luckily, Viktor had only sent half of their Death Dealer forces to Lucian's domain.

Gingerly, Kraven took another step onto the battlefield. His shoes sunk slightly into the ground and made a squishing noise. He grimaced at the sound, but continued onward, slowly and carefully, so as not to step on any ruined bodies. He passed a group of feeding Lycans. As he neared them, one raised his head and looked at him, a low growl building in his throat.

Moonlight lit up the field as it appeared from behind a cloud. It illuminated Kraven in an unearthly light, making his scarlet tunic almost glow. The Lycan took in the scene and recognizing the Vampyre as the red-clad traitor, went back to his feast.

Kraven continued on through the slaughtered mess, trying not to notice the surreal clarity the moonlight offered.

After leaving the bloodshed far behind, Kraven finally saw the castle come into view. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically. Blood covered him, most of it dried now, little of it his. His broken nose had finally stopped bleeding, and the blood that had dried in brown stains over his face, matted his hair to his head. It had been almost too much for him to handle. All the blood, the blood of Vampyres…

The guard on night duty noticed a body lying in the shadows near the gate. He quickly alerted his superior and Kraven was hurried inside the mansion. Though unconscious, Viktor ordered Kraven to be brought before him at once.

Kraven awoke to darkness. Slowly, the world came into focus. Four Vampyres were standing around him.

Viktor spoke. "Tell us, what did you witness?"

Kraven struggled to sit up so that he could face the Elders. His appearance said more than any words could. Dried blood stained the marvelously coloured tunic he wore, and his face had seen better days. His lip was cut and his nose was obviously broken. Blood matted his hair to his face and one eye was slightly swollen. His eyes held a defeated look, and that more than anything, scared Viktor.

"Kraven," He said again, more sternly, "Tell us what happened to you."

Kraven nodded, slowly, as if it pained him. "There were so many...attacked us...couldn't have known..." Kraven sank back into unconsciousness.

Viktor exchanged glances with his peers. Everyone was worried. Was Kraven the only survivor? How could they have failed?

"Come, let him rest. He can tell us his story when he awakes," a female Vampyre said softly.

With a last glance at the slumbering figure, Viktor left the room with the others, anxious with apparent defeat.

Kraven awoke, dreams of red drenched fields slowly fading.

It was dark and he was in his room. Someone had cleaned him up and he was no longer covered in blood. His nose was completely healed, as where the several; cuts and bruises he had obtained.

A maid was asleep in a chair next to his bed. He roused her. She hurried off to tell Viktor that he was awake. While Kraven waited he gathered his thoughts, running through his story.

When Viktor entered, Kraven was sitting upright in his bed. He took the maid's seat near Kraven's bed and gazed at the newly healed Death Dealer.

"Tell me," he said encouragingly, "what happened at Lucian's fortress."

Kraven gave his best impression of shattered innocence and launched into his well prepared story.

Viktor sat patiently, listening, not saying a word. In fact, he made no movement at all. For a moment, Kraven thought he didn't believe him. All his hard work, his groveling, had been for nothing.

He fell silent, hoping Viktor would betray some emotion. He didn't. He merely sat there and looked thoughtfully at Kraven.

"The Lycans took you by surprise, and you, my dear Kraven, are the only one who escaped?" He asked in an agonizingly slow voice.

Kraven summoned what was left of his courage, "Yes, my lord."

Viktor nodded, "And what of Lucian?"

A glimmer of hope rose in Kraven. "He's dead, my lord."

Viktor's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, my lord."

"How?"

"I killed him, my lord."

The key to lying, Kraven thought, is to convince yourself that what you say is the truth. He had half convinced himself already. This new version of events kept his dreams from filling with moon-brightened blood.

Viktor sat up straighter in his chair. "You?"

"Yes, my lord. In the midst of battle I happened upon the Lycan master, tearing one of our warriors to pieces. I engaged him, and I killed him. With Lucian dead, I...there was no one. No one left, only torn bodies being fed upon," Kraven paused for dramatic effect, letting his eyes slowly fill with tears. "When I realized I was all that was left, I set the fortress ablaze." Kraven's eyes hardened. "I burned the sons of bitches to the ground."

Viktor was astonished. Surely this dark haired youngling had not defeated his greatest enemy. There must be some better explanation. Maybe the boy had suffered more trauma than previously thought.

"I brought this for you, my lord." As he came to from his reverie, Viktor watched as Kraven pulled a pale object from his pocket and laid it flat on the bedside table. Viktor leaned close to inspect it. He was silent for a long time as he stared at the branded skin of his enemy. His own mark burned into the scrap of flesh. "I cut it from Lucian's very arm, my lord. To prove my worthiness."

Viktor lifted the flesh from the table, rubbing his fingers over the 'V'. He nodded to himself before turning to Kraven.

"You have done well, Kraven. You have triumphed over great odds. The Coven is in debt to you." He said. "You shall be greatly rewarded."

It took an iron will to keep the victorious smile from Kraven's lips.

Kraven entered the richly decorated hall, clad in the finest garments of silk and velvet. Precious stones adorned his fingers. Two lovely female Vampyres in equally expensive clothing clung to either of his arms.

Applause met the mention of his name. Viktor motioned him to the head of the room. He excused himself from the two ladies, promising to reunite with them later that night, and took his place at Viktor's side.

"Great coven! Behold! This Vampyre, this one man, the sole survivor of the raid on the Lycan Fortress, has slayed the Lycan master and set his great fortress to flames! We owe him our gratitude and our thanks. He has single-handedly progressed this war to our near certain victory. What remains of the Lycan horde has scattered to the wind. Soon, the Lycan race will be exterminated! And the Vampyres will be the dominant race once again!" Viktor speech ended to a roar of appreciation.

It has been a long night, Kraven thought as he lay awake in his new, lavishly decorated chambers. Every respectable Vampyre in the Coven had paid their thanks to him. In public, Kraven had maintained his humble attitude, but now, in the privacy of his chambers, he reveled in his new status.

He carefully extracted himself from the nude, pale women on either side of him and went to stand in front of the fire. Dawn was near, but he could not sleep. The excitement had not yet left him. He stared into the flames for several minutes.

Screams. The sounds of flesh being torn from still alive bodies. Teeth cracking bones. Flames burning brightly. A field soaked in blood. The moonlight showing it all in painful glorious detail. You will never be anything but a cowardly traitor! You have betrayed your Coven and your Species! You will be judged!

Kraven awoke abruptly. Ambrose's green eyes fading from his dream. It was a dream, only a dream. No, Kraven thought, it wasn't. It was real.

How did I think I could live with this burden? Why? Why did I do this?

A soft knock at his door startled him. He heaved himself from the chair in front if the dying embers and went to answer the door. A servant stood outside.

"A letter was left for you, sir." The servant held out a thick piece of parchment sealed with red wax.

Kraven took the letter from the servant and broke the seal. Inside he read:

Phase Two has Begun

Kraven scowled at the message and crumpled it in his hand. He started to close the door, but the servant began to speak again. Kraven opened the door back up, annoyed at the man's presence.

"What is it?"

"Well, sir, Lord Viktor has told me to inform you that if there is anything, anything at all you require, please let me know and I will provide it for you." The servant paused, then as an afterthought said, "Nothing is too great for you, my lord."

A grin spread across Kraven's face. "I will be sure to call you if I need anything."

The servant smiled happily, "Very good, my lord."

Oh yes, Kraven thought as he threw the parchment into the fire and watched as the flames licked around the edges, this is why I did it.