Author's Note: Taking a small break from my Hellboy fanfiction, and decided to get Holly involved in a Legacy of Kain fanfiction this time around. It has been a very long while since I've written a decent Legacy of Kain fanfic, and I suppose I could try again now. Please read and review, even if you have nothing nice to say.

If he were alive today, this would have been their thirty-fourth anniversary. They would have been in some warm, comfortable room, celebrating with their daughters during the day, and making love at night. No work to be done, no inventions to be made. Just twenty-four hours of bliss.

Instead, Holly was knelt down at his grave in this misty cemetary, laying a rose on the tombstone. She ran her pale hand over the stone, waited there for a moment, then rose to her feet. She had married Vladmir Angela in the summer she turned fifteen. Times were very different then, and girls married young. By the time she was that age, she was already considered a grown woman, and it was expected of her to be married off. She remembered being so nervous about it, but at the same time she remembered feeling excited. She remembered worrying that she may not come to love him, and realized just how fortunate she was that she was able to do so. He was a good man, and a good father. He had given her twenty-six years of happiness, but like all things in Nosgoth, it only ended in blood.

She remembered the day she heard the horses approaching her home. When she saw the banners of the Sarafan from outside of her window, coming closer. When she stepped onto the porch, she was met by a young Sarafan warrior, removing his helmet and looking upon her wtih the saddest eyes. She looked confused for only a second before her eyes fell upon the carriage behind the horses, and the coffin that laid upon it.

Killed in battle. Impaled six times through the chest and stomach. Every ounce of blood completely drained from his body. The vampires had ambushed him, killed him, and fed on him like the parasites they were.

That day changed everything. Holly already had her two daughters at that time: Magdalena was fourteen and Lilianna was only eight. She had two heartbroken daughters at her side, and a broken heart that took it's precious time dying a slow death. There was no father figure. There was no man in the house. There was nobody there to support her. For many years, a void that had taken the place of Vladmir had formed and grew within their home. For many years, the Angela family felt nothing but sorrow and sadness.

Now, some eight years later, her daughters were grown, and had families of their own, there was really nothing else left in Holly's life. Her big house was now quiet and empty. There were no more sounds of happy children and little running feet. The scent of her husband in their bed and on her pillow had vanished away, forgotten to her, lost in time. After a few years of living in such isolation, she decided to sell the house. It was something her daughters did not object to. The place had become a mausoleum filled with more sad memories than that of happy ones. And since her daughters had no desire on returning to keep the home in their name, Holly took the liberty of moving to a less-remote location: Meridian.

She was nearing her fiftieth year of life, and already time and grief was taking it's toll on her. Though the extreme pain and sorrow had numbed down, memories of the past and thoughts of what could have been kept her heart sad. Her pale face was beginning to form some lines and wrinkles, her curly blonde hair was beginning to have hints of gray and silver in it. And her body was not as strong and young as it used to be: she was in good shape for a woman her age, yet had gained enough weight to make her somewhat self-conscious. If one thing hadn't failed her yet, it was her mind, and all the things she was able to do when she put her mind to work.

After saying a silent prayer and bidding her deceased husband farewell, and a happy anniversary, she turned away and left the gravesite. She approached the large, steel gates and watched as two Sarafan soldiers opened it for her.

"Be safe tonight, Madam." one said to her.

"There's rumors that a vampire is in this area. Are you positive that you do not wish for us to accompany you home?" the other said.

Holly lowered her head and smiled softly. "You are very kind," she said, pulling the hood of her black cloak over her head. "But I don't live far, and God help the vampires should they run into me. Good night, gentlemen."

She left them behind and continued down a dark street. The Upper City was a much safer haven than anything the Lower City or the Slums had to offer. Fewer vampires roamed these places, and those who did had it on good authority to leave her be. They knew very well where her allegience laid, and knew very well of whom they would upset should any harm befall her.

She made it to the cornor of the cobblestone street before she caught something in her peripheral vision. Her eyes detected movement, though her ears could hear nothing. Holly turned her head to the left, seeing nothing but the dancing flames of the streetlamps. She paused for a moment, then turned away, proceeding down the street. Her senses were on full alert. Just because she was not to be harmed didn't mean that the vampires did not enjoy pressing their luck. And within seconds, her eyes detected yet another hint of movement nearby. With a sigh, Holly stopped moving and crossed her arms.

"Marcus." her tone was very firm, yet not entirely irritated. "The only person I wished to meet on this dark night was my dead husband. You can stop looking for reasons to have your master execute me for treason or conspiracy. Paranoia doesn't suit you."

It was in that event that she felt someone behind her. Due to the amount of tension that was in the air, Holly knew that her pursuer was not happy with her statement.

"It is interesting, madam..." he added with much distaste, "That you refer to him as my master, and not our master."

Holly chuckled. "You can read my mind, Marcus. Surely you know why I refer to him as such."

She felt a very cold, gloved hand on her shoulder. The fingertips were dramatically pointed and very sharp. And yet Holly couldn't help but wonder if Marcus kept his nails meticulously cleaned and polished after he was done tearing apart his prey. He certainly seemed to be that type.

"Would you like to know personally?" well, he certainly seemed to have read that particular thought. She chuckled a bit.

"Perhaps another time, but as for right now, I would prefer it if you took your hand off of me before my deceased husband grows jealous. And I don't think you would want Vladmir to haunt you." she finally turned away, his hand falling off her shoulder in the process, and looked over the vampire. He was taller than she was, perhaps a few inches over six feet, a very slim body, surprisingly olive-toned skin, and a perfectly bald head. His dark eye sockets and black lips gave off a very glam look to him that Holly had always found quite amusing. Judging by the annoyed expression on his face, he seemed to have known what she was thinking of now.

"Well... since you are to see me home, perhaps we shall leave now?" she asked.

Marcus took a step closer to her, as if measuring her up. The look on his face was nothing short of pure disgust. "It should be made clear," he hissed, "That I do not trust you. Your mind shall always be open for me, at all times. Should I detect even the slightest thought of betrayal, I will personally kill you myself."

Holly looked bored already. "Marcus... if you are done with your dick measuring, I would greatly appreciate it if you start acting like a good boy and take me home." and she gave him a very mischievious smile. "Capice?"

He snarled at her, then turned away. Without missing a beat, he proceeded down the alley into another direction. Since Holly noticed that he did not phase into his invisible form, she took this as a sign for her to follow him. And so she did.