|Sareesa: The Fourth Bride
Author: Hadasah PM
Abandoned for three hundred years, her focus has shifted to someone else, spotted from afar. Or was it him, that found her?Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Drama - Chapters: 14 - Words: 22,237 - Reviews: 34 - Favs: 4 - Follows: 6 - Updated: 08-23-07 - Published: 02-28-07 - id: 3418194
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I just watched the movie and I cried...
Dracula soo purdy..
Poor anna too .
Ahem , this probly wont have much of Van Helsing in it.
Chapter 1 : Sareesa von Dracula
The youngest bride of Dracula. Forgotten.
Yes, she was forgotten. The other brides kept him well occupied. Enough so that he did not think to find her in this broken castle.
Her name? Sareesa. Or as it was announced, Sareesa von Dracula. Fourth bride of the father of all vampires.
At the time, it was a great honor, and they spent much of their time together. That faded when the other brides began to give birth. Their children hung everywhere, encased in wet cocoons. As children of the undead, they were all stillborn. Sareesa, however, had not given birth to any children. This in part might have had something to do with her abandonment in Castle Dracula.
There were two other brides, where there were once four including herself. The eldest, Hartana, and the second eldest, Franshka. Both were wonderful beauties, skilled in the arts of seduction and flattery. Perhaps this was another reason why he doted on them. Though they often slept within arm's reach of one another, but the brides rarely spoke to Sareesa. Dracula had not spoken to her since Veeral, the first bride was killed. They had been friends, Sareesa's only companion in the coldness of eternity. She often wondered if he somehow blamed her for his loss.
They had been out feeding together. Who among their ranks would have thought to look to the skies for attack? The villagers had noticed our occasional snatching of a less fortunate wanderer, and had taken action against them. A stake woven net, shot from the trees. It wrapped around Veeral, and was about to catch Sareesa's wings, but she threw her away from the net. Caught in the twisting branches of the trees, she could only watch, keening a high pitched wail of grief as Veeral burned from within by the power of the silver stakes.
One night, as usual, Sareesa was hanging alone, feeling the vibrant lines of passion and lust in her mind from the other brides and the Master. She was untempted to join them. She did not relish being torn apart by a viscious lover and jealous brides.
Moments later, all three swept through the great front hall, where she hung from the ceiling. They were going out to feed. She wanted to join them, but made no move to do so. She had not fed in months. At least two, if not three. The ache of hunger and the lust of blood was everlasting in her, but it reminded her that she was somewhat alive.
Hartana, a friendlier female than Franshka, who was jealous of her relationship with the Master, looked up at Sareesa. She wished the youngest bride would join them for once. An impatient sound from Franshka turned her back to the Master, who had already flown out to the skies. The brides shot after him, stomachs anticipating eagerly a feast.
Sareesa shifted, rubbing her shoulders. Her long robes, delicately embroidered and finely made, given to her by Dracula on their engagement, hung around her. The long sleeves moved around her in the breeze, folding her in their shimmery embrace.
Sudden wingbeats woke her from her sleep, and she bared her fangs in annoyance. Always when she was about to fall asleep, some noisy flier would come flapping in. The prescence was unlike any of the brides, or Dracula's. It was male, and he was alone. The torch basins were all unlit, as they found no use for them. Flicking her hands toward them, she lit one after another, lighting the path for the young vampire. He glided down the hallway, entering the antechamber behind it. Instead of flying, she transported herself, directly behind him, and with one arm, slammed the heavy oak doors shut. The chamber went pitch black. But not to her, or to him.
They saw the heat of any creature, but they did not have body heat. The would still see one another's forms. She dropped gracefully behind me, robes floating down to rest around her. "Who are you?" she asked, tongue curling over the words. She immediatly transported away, to the ceiling. He whirled, but found no one there. "Who's there?" He shouted to the seemingly empty room.
"Up here, foolish one." He looked up, and made out the form of a female vampire. A gusty sigh echoed through the large chamber. "Must I retrieve you myself, or will you come up here?" A sarcastic tone swept heavily through her voice. Without bothering to walk the walls, he shifted to his demonic form, flying up to her. He bared long fangs at her, snarling. She snarled back, face changing for a second to her own batlike form.
"Do you wish to be torn to shreds for approaching a bride of Dracula?" He tilted his now-humane head to one side. "A bride of Dracula?" His voice was also filled with the heavy, rolling accent. "I fear no, Dracula."
"Then you are the foolish one." Pressing her lips together, she hesitated, then asked. "What is your name?"
"Only if you will grace me with your own, my lady." Well, he has charm, she thought. But that didn't excuse his intrusion into their castle.
"My name is Valdisdan. I'm from northern Transylvania. And you, milady, who might you be?"
A ghost of a smile played about her slightly parted lips, baring the tips of her fangs in a wolf-like grin. "Sareesa. My lord. You are quite cheeky, young man. "
"Young man? I probably outlast you by centuries! I have lived over four, milady." He bowed his head slightly, which looked odd from their upside down positions.
"Then you are quite old. I am not yet past my third century. Tell me, why have you come to our castle on this joyful summer night?"
He smiled. " I came only on wistful travels. I had no idea whose castle this was."
"Then you had best leave, for my Lord is nothing but viscious even on the best of days. I would not wish such a fate on such an aged, learned man like yourself.' Raising her cool hand to his lips, he pressed a kiss to the skin, sending shivers down her form. "You honour me, milady.'
An overwhelming prescence swooped toward the castle. "You must hurry, leave before he finds you!" Without releasing her hand, he transported them both to the woods, a few miles from the castle.
"When can I see you again?" Again? Didn't he know that they could both be killed for this?
"I don't know, just go!"
She watched him winging away gracefully into the distance. A strange feeling hung in the pit of her stomach. Dread and something else. Something she hadn't felt in a hundred years.
The beginnings of love.
Well that was weird.
anyways review me!