The Battle Of Kings

Warnings: boy-who-lived!Neville, Vampire!Harry, OOC's, AU! Grammar Errors!


Chapter two: Understanding King


| 2 |

The little boy, no older than four, let out a haggard, dry breath, licking his cracked lips.

It was hot.

With the back of his hand he swished away the sweat from his forehead, welcoming it as the wet and most importantly cool dirt and mud from his hands stuck to his forehead. He looked back down, watching the grass, plants, flowers, whatever they were. His ear twitched as he heard laughter, the voices flowing freely to him through open windows.

He burned.

He went back to his work, plunging out grass that wasn't welcome.

It was hot.

His vision swam. Voices filled his head. A scream, a plead, a voice of reason.

Submission and worship.

'Why should we submit to them, when they don't even have themselves under control?'

My Lord

'Why don't we just decorate our spikes with their bodies?'

My King

'That's your solution to all problems, isn't it?'

"Athanasius Basileús" The name left the boy's lips, spreading a chilling -welcoming- sensation through his body, his voice cracked from its dry state.

He blinked and fell down, a sigh leaving him as he collided with the cool earth.

Yet, he still burned.

| 2 |

Harry hummed a small random tune as he laid on the couch, his feet on the armrest and a slightly tattered book from the Black's library in his hands.

Sometimes, having the memories and knowledge of thousands of years was a real pain in the ass. It made it quite hard to find something new; history just loved to repeat itself. It's easy to get bored, because no matter what he thinks of, at one point in his unfading life, he already did it. No matter who he meets, he already knew someone who was the same.

Books were always the same, for Harry at least. A previous incarnation of Athanasius loved to read banal novels because there he could find new situations, new things. It was not Harry's forte, even if he must admit that it was sometimes quite entertaining and the non-magical world evolved rapidly; there were always new things to discover. However, regrettably, this incarnation had no big interest in the world of the 'mundane', Harry was a child of magic.

Absently-minded, he tapped his finger against the book.

Years ago, Sirius would have loudly protested to allow him access to the library with mostly dark and black magic. Azkaban really brought him out of tune with magic, he didn't even notice the dark taint on his own godson, a shame, really, because even now, when he exactly knew what Harry was, he didn't understand, he saw but didn't realize.

It was now nearly a week since he was here and most of them were still wary around him. Alastor Moody even took it as a hobby to fire curses at him, an entertaining and somewhat endearing gesture, especially because the retired Auror used some pretty unique, borderline illegal curses. Not to mention that he never grew bored of the shocked faces of the onlookers.

To be completely truthful, he didn't think that he and his people will join Dumbeldore. For all that in the short time, Harry actually grew a bit fond of the light lord, he was exactly that, light, too light. Harry knew that light didn't equal good and dark didn't equal evil. No, but it had a so very different essence and Albus Dumbledore's magic was so completely light, so blinding, that it hurt. He knew Albus felt the same, just not to that extent, humans were not that sensitive.

Harry was a vampire and vampires were dark creature. It didn't matter in what the vampire believed or how he acted. A vampire would always be a dark creature. Just like a Veela was light and a Werewolf dark. It didn't matte how they behaved, it was their very existence, their very core.

It was a freedom that only humans could have, they could choose. It was a freedom of which he was envious, because he didn't have it, he was bound to his race, to a duty he didn't chose. Sometimes -often- he was disgusted how carelessly wizards and witched used this freedom.

One desires, what one doesn't have.

Even so, just because he was dark didn't mean that he would join Voldemort. The dark wizard grew up to be an annoyance, especially as he took in a more active role to persuade the vampires to join him than Albus or Grindlewald combined. His impudence was headache worthy and that was quite an accomplished.

He was brought of his thoughts as he heard footsteps, easily recognizing them, he opened his mouth to greet the other.

"Hello, Neville"

He heard how the other person stilled, surprised, and then walked with swift steps and a relieved sigh to him.

"Hi Harry" The boy spoke, sounding still a bit unsure but friendly nonetheless, sitting down on the couch opposites his. Neville Longbottom, the boy-who-lived –and really, couldn't they have come up with something wittier? As far as he knew, lived every human, more or less.

Harry suppressed a twitch of his lips as the boy shifted nervously on his seat. The hero of the nation was surprisingly timid and shy. He never took a big interest in the boy, because he was just that, a boy, but now.

He gazed at the blonde boy.

He could feel the power in the boy, the constant hum of magic, calling to him and hidden in the mediocre, annoying smell of a weak human was something powerful. The boy had the potential for greatness.

Did Dumbledore feel it too? Was that the reason why the light lord was obviously so fascinated with him? The reason why the dark lord hunted after him? Why there was this ridiculous tuck war over the boy?

Maybe it was a mistake to ignore the other.

"I take it their arguing again?" Harry stated more than asked. Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley were like oil and water. They just didn't seem to mix. It was somewhat humorous because Harry could clearly feel how their magic hummed to each other; it would not be the first time that humans ignored the call of magic.

Neville nodded miserable. "Yeah, I'm surprised that you can't hear the shouting match through the whole house."

The vampire shook his head bemused. What a strange group they were, a quiet hero, the loud sidekick and a nagging bookworm.

"Well, they told that arguing is healthy in a relationship" Harry commented offhandedly and was rewarded with a small startled laugh from Neville.

"Ron and Hermione? Never! Don't say that before them, will you? They kill you!" The boy spoke between his laughs and that alone was apparently quite and accomplishment. From what Remus told him, the boy was depressed from the happenings in the school year before. Yes, it was something he too was concerned about, but after he saw how masterfully the ministry dealt with it, morphed it into plain exasperation.

The dark lord returned, that was a fact. A fact which he thought could not be hidden, not deceived, no matter how much Fudge tried to deny. The attempt alone was laughable.

That brings him to another point, why couldn't people just stay dead when they die? He was supposed to be one of the few people to be immortal. It's against the nature of humans to hide before death.

It irritated him.

That was one of the reasons why he never liked that Flamel man, even if -in the back if his mind carefully hidden- he applauded the accomplishment, for all that it was still a faulty immortality.

Nonetheless, if his speculation was right and he was pretty sure that he was right, then Voldemort's solution was considering less elegant and a lot more grotesque. He wondered if Dumbledore had his own suspicious or maybe already knew?

There was comfortable silence as Neville calmed down and Harry turned back to his book.

"Ehm, that's a book from the Black's library, isn't it?" The Longbottom heir broke into the silence.

"What ever gave you that idea?" Harry asked back in a light sarcastic tone. "It couldn't be because we are in the Black's Library, that would be ridiculous"

The boy-who-lived blushed at this. "I...I know. I just meant that it's a book about dark magic" The boy mumbled out staring at the book in the hands of the vampire.

Harry turned his head to the other, tilting his head as he studied the other. There wasn't hate or an accusation in his voice, but rather some kind of hidden fascination. Was the boy-hero interested in dark magic? My, my, how intriguing, the golden boy, the poster boy of the light side, interested in dark magic, even after all the bad incidents he had with it, Harry narrowed his eyes -or maybe exactly because of that? Temptation in it's purest form.

He didn't think it's something Dumbledore would allow, he suppressed a smirk of dark mischievousness. The light lord didn't need to know.

He may found the perfect way of passing time and to shuffle the deck, who knows, maybe one card would change its color?

"Dark isn't always evil, Neville" There was a slight warning undertone that made Neville cringe and he gulped down nervously.

"We are taught defense against the dark arts at Hogwarts" Neville stated and Harry barked a laugh, surprising the other.

"Oh, please, that's an outdated definition. You lot are certainly not learning to defend against dark arts but what the ministry deems bad" Harry sighed dramatically. "You batch have difficulties to adapt to change" The vampire commented randomly.

The parent-less boy stared intrigued at the vampire. "What do you mean?" He inquired and Harry gave the other boy a patient smile.

"How do you identify a spell as dark or light?" He asked and Neville frowned.

"Dark spells harm and light spells...don't harm" The dark-haired blonde explained uncertain, his eyes getting distant as if remembering an old memory. Harry, in a moment of unrestrained curiosity, took a peck in the boy's mind and promptly repressed a frown at the condition of the boy's mind, it was a mess, felt strange and there was something foreign to it but he decided to ignore it, for the moment.

'There is no good and evil, there is only power...and those too weak to seek it'

He left the mind of the other without notice and couldn't suppress the amused chuckle, catching the attention of Neville.

"Well, you are not wrong" Harry acknowledged "What if you used the avada kedavra on a person, would that be dark magic?" He then proceed to ask and Neville blinked at him confused.

"Yes"

"And what if you used it to kill before that person could kill your loved ones?" He questioned softly, it was not very imaginative but close enough. "Would that be an act of immorality?" He observed as the boy froze up, opening and closing his mouth.

"I -no...-maybe, I-I don't know" The boy stuttered out, sounding flustered.

"And what if you used the Patronus, undoubtedly one of the lightest spells, to scare someone away? Making him trip, hurting himself or maybe even kill him?" He asked further. "Would that be, by your definition, a light spell?" Harry added slyly.

Neville stared down and writhed his hands in his lap, looking nothing like the hero, he was supposed to be.

The vampire king remained silent, giving the boy time to think and answer. For some unfathomed reason, he was genuinely interested in the answer of the other and Harry was never one to deny himself something, no matter how little sense it made. So, he let the boy be and relaxed once again against the couch but did not resume reading his book, it was boring to begin with, instead, he stared at the ceiling.

That one crack on the ceiling looked astonishingly like Sanguini, it even had the sour face. So, now, he only needed to find Vlad, with an exasperated expression of course, because he couldn't stand Sanguini but then, he also couldn't stand Sirius, so Harry also needed to find a crack that looked liked Sirius; it would be the perfect trio! However, now he needed to over-think their expression. Sanguini had already a sour face -because Sirius did something stupid? Vlad would be smiling, obviously amused because Sirius managed to annoy Sanguini but would Sirius really annoy Sanguini first? They don't have that much contact, no, Sirius would annoy Vlad who would annoy Sirius back and Sanguini would be annoyed at them becau-

"It's..." Neville began and faltered, breaking Harry out of his thought "It's about our will then. How we use it" He said at the end with a steady voice.

The vampire king blinked at the human boy, what were they talking about?

He stared at Neville, frowning as he tried to remember, not noticing how Neville's face shifted to a confused nervousness. Will? What kind of will? Sirius's will to annoy Vlad? No, no, something about spells? Spells? Why should they talk about spells? He doesn't even like using spells, he is more the charms and transfiguration person...

For the blood in Erzsébet's bathtub he couldn't remember -Oh!

"Yes, yes, Magic is a lot about will, intent. You can't hurt anyone, expect by mistake, if you don't want it and you can if you want" Harry acknowledged and completely not acknowledged the fact that he needed nearly a minute to remember about what he spoke with the boy or that he even spoke with the boy. Just because his mind was old didn't mean that he grew senile, thank you very much.

"It's not that complicated" Harry commented further. "However, there are some limits. If a person becomes to immersed in the Dark Arts, then he could lose himself. So, actually, it is a bit more complicated." The vampire spoke simply, somehow contradicting his own words from before "Your Voldemort is the perfect example" He remarked absently.

Neville's head shot up and he starred at the vampire in wonder. "You said his name"

"Hmm?" Harry turned his head to the other questioningly and Neville flushed, dropping his gaze again.

"I just- not many people- even my Gran- all others..especially my age" He stumbled over his words and Harry blinked in realization.

"Ah, I'm not afraid of Voldemort; the reason why I can say his name" He explained. "And because I was not involved when he was at his strongest" Well, it wasn't really the truth but it was no real lie either.

Neville calmed down and once again looked curios at Harry, an expression which made the vampire laugh. A short, soft like laugh.

"Did you think about why people are so afraid to say his name? In the days of the war was his name a taboo. People who spoke his name aloud vanished the next day, some were never found again, often than not were the mutilated bodies dropped before the houses of their families. Try to think of the drama as the little children find the mangled corpse of their fathers in the morning." Harry spoke, his apathetic cold voice cutting into Neville.

"It was a macabre event, peopledropped dead like flies. Raids of blood and gore became a daily basis. It was chaos and terror. It's understandingly that people were afraid and are still afraid; a trauma like that won't be just forgotten and forgiven."

It weren't the words that enthralled Neville but the tone of the other. One of nostalgic understanding with a touch of darkly amusement that made the boy-who-lived shiver.

However, before he could comment on this, a voice interrupted them.

"Neville? Food is ready"

Neville, obviously happy for the distraction, excused himself from Harry and smiled wanly at Remus who searched them out. Once Neville left the room, shutting the door behind him, turned Remus to the son of his late friend and raised an eyebrow.

"Was that necessary?" He asked noncommittally and Harry blinked at him.

"Whatever do you mean?"

The werewolf just starred sceptically back, walking up to the reclined vampire.

"I understand were your motivation comes from but-"

"-Do you?" Harry interrupted earnestly with shiny eyes, his whole being sprouting with innocence and Remus gave him a stern gaze.

"-but Neville went through a lot, please be aware of this fact" He spoke gently and somewhat tiredly, willing Harry to understand.

The vampire king suppressed a scowl; he always hated it when Remus gave him that beaten puppy look.

"I try, if only because you asked" Harry gave in and when he was rewarded with a happy smile couldn't he help but smile too. He forgotten how much he missed it.

| 2 |

The vampire king starred disappointingly when he stepped into the room. Mad-eye was away, just like Albus.

It was boring.

No matter how much he liked the presence of Remus and Sirius.

It was boring.

In what kind of mentality was he, when he promised these two to remain here till the new school term began, only to go if he really was needed somewhere else?

The vampire king mulled over his misery, maybe he should call Vlad here? Just to observe the ever growing animosity between him and his godfather; he never understood what their problem was. Remus, the stingy werewolf, seemed to know but stayed irritatingly silent.

With a put upon sigh, that screamed of his wretched existence, he flopped down on the couch besides a rather red-faced, bushy-haired girl, a thick book before her.

She lifted the book rather strangely, completely straight before her, her arms were tense and her face hidden to the outside word but Harry, who had a sideline view could see the wetness in her eyes, the tremble of her arms of raising her book like that and hear her rapid hearth beating that spoke of anger and distress.

Right, Hermione Granger, shouting contest with one of the red-haired beings. That would explain it.

"What'cha reading?" Harry spoke overly cheerfully and as the girl gave him a side-glance view, he gave her a thousand watt smile back. Her face shifted to a grimace, Harry couldn't quiet tell if she was mad or disgusted.

Then, without warning, Hermione's face crumbled and the book, a thick tome, fell into her lap. She looked as miserably as the vampire felt, even if the source of their misery was different.

Silence reigned for a moment, at the end Harry decided to take pity, not really out of real pity but just because he wanted too. He was the Vampire King but he also was Harry Potter,a teenage boy, a teenage boy who had no contact to people of the same age, so, really, it was his very right to make sure a conversation happened. Not to forget that he was bored and a bored king was never a good thing.

"Questions, my dear?" Harry spoke and the brunette frowned.

"Questions?" She parroted and he nodded encompassing

"Yes, come one, I could practically hear you screaming at me since I walked into this building" Harry informed her and Hermione flushed but didn't avert her eyes.

"I can?" The witch asked with a surprisingly timid but anticipative voice and Harry just gave her a wry look, motioning with his hand to go on.

Satisfied at the bright eyed look she gave him, he leaned back on the couch, stretching out his long legs and folding his hands before him.

"Is it true that Vampires burn in the sun? I never saw you eat anything here, does that mean that you can't eat normal food? How do you exactly age, you can't be really immortal? Can you see yourself in the mirror? It's said that Vampires and Werewolf don't get along but you seemed fine with Professor Lupin-?

"Are you still breathing?" Harry interjected with a question of his own, successfully stopping the rant of the girl.

The girl had the gall to pout at him because of that.

"I could answer you like that with only yes and no, but I think you rather want a more informative answer" The vampire spoke with a chuckle, not in the least bit upset at the rapid fired questions.

"So, how about we try again?"

Hermione took a deep breath to calm herself and nodded.

"Do you burn in the sun? I find it quiet absurd but it's a very wide spread rumor and with magic you never know." The girl trailed of quietly.

"I and my kin don't spontaneous burst into flames when we come into contact with sunlight," He stated dryly, "of course we do get sunburns a lot easier than humans but we don't explode in fire. Vampires, in general, are weak to high temperatures and bright sunlight irritates our eyes" Harry explained patiently.

"So, Vampires are nocturnal people" The witch concluded to herself and Harry gave her a side-glance.

"Mostly yes, we prefer the night, however, many also decided to follow the time-table of humans. Simply, because it isn't any more profitable to live a life in the night. Of course that doesn't mean that our anatomy changed-"

"What do you mean with that? Is your physique different than ours?" Hermione interjected, listening close to his words.

Harry gave her a fanged grin and leaned over to hear, making her back up.

"Outside the fangs, I mean" The girl spoke, her eyes shifting nervously to the pointed teeth.

"My eyes" He spoke, pointing with one hand at an eye of his and the teenage girl squinted at him.

"What's with- Oh! Your pupils are dilated" She breathed out in realization, focusing on the big, black pupils of the vampire. She didn't notice before, with the green of his eyes being captivating.

"Yes, our pupils are highly dilated, making it better for us to see in the dark. However, opposites to human eyes, the constriction in the light is minimal. Meaning, the sun can make us practically blind. That's also why most anti-vampire spells are bright lighted."

Hermione chewed her lips in thought.

"So you're in an constant arousal?-"

The vampire frowned at the strange question.

"-Pupil dilate like that if-"

"No, no," Harry interrupted, waging his finger almost mockingly, now getting about what she spoke. "You misunderstood, with human, yes, their pupils dilate when their give of adrenaline and so one." Harry made a carelessly hand motion. "With Vampires, it's more like the opposite."

He scratched his cheek. "For example, take bloodlust. If a Vampire is in bloodlust, his pupil becomes smaller and the iris bigger, making the red of their eyes shine."

"Wouldn't that be counterproductive?" The witch questioned.

"Hmm, you can't really say that. Their vision becomes smaller and less sensitive, their concentration fully on their victim, the chances of the victim to escape his predicament are slim, almost nonexistent. Of course, an attack from the outside would be rather simple, however, if the first attack doesn't kill the vampire...well, it won't be pretty." The vampire king spoke with grin, chuckling slightly at his words.

Hermione could not really say anything to that, she didn't like the amused expression of the other boy. It wasn't okay to be amused about such things and it wasn't the amusement Ron or maybe even Neville would show because of their nativity or not understanding of the situation. The other besides her understood fully the implicating of his offhanded words and found them entertaining.

"How much blood do you exactly need and are you able to eat normal food?" She changed the subjects. "I only saw you drink some wine with Sirius and Remus" Hermione commented, sounding slightly reprimanding.

"It depends, some need blood like humans need water others are happy enough with an half-liter once a week. And yes, we can eat normal food, actually vampires who still eat 'normal food' don't need as much blood, of course, most food has a rather bitter after taste for us." Here Harry grimaced, absently gliding his tongue over his teeth. "So most don't do that. Also, if we eat to much normal food we easily get sick"

"I see," Hermione hummed thoughtful, she wanted to ask Harry how much blood he drank and from which source but somehow her subconscious warned her that she didn't want to know. Instead, she asked her next question.

"Why are you called undead and immortal? You do age and die"

"Our 'aging' process is a lot different than that from humans. There are some different -ah, what do you call it?- subgroups of Vampires, some who never age after they are turned, others age till their seventies and then live another 400 year looking like that. However, other than that, I can't say to you more to that subject."

The vampire smiled a fanged-smile "It's a well kept se~cret." He sang the word.

The brunette harrumphed but let it go.

"Vampires and Werewolves don't get along" She stated, still miffed that Harry didn't tell her everything.

"Well, we have our likeness and our differences. We are alike as we are different, our moods are influenced by the full-moon even thought not on the same level of insanity as the werewolves, we both are dark creatures, both shunned by society. Still, whereas vampires are everyday vampires; werewolves only become werewolves once in a month." Harry leaned a bit forward, his expression mischievously. "Certainly, you should never compare a werewolves with a vampire in their presence. Werewolves find it insulting to be compared with the undead and vampires hate it to be classified on the same level as werewolves, after-all, werewolves are still human." He spoke, whispering as if it was a great secret.

The witch frowned, biting her lip as she mulled the words of the other in her head.

"How exactly are the vampires undead?"

Harry chuckled amused, only muggleborns asked question like that, most pure-blood witches and wizard just accept and don't question.

"We don't have a pulse, our hearts don't beat, we don't need air. We don't have the needs of a living creature" The vampire king said softly, his eyes growing distant. "It's as simple as that"

"Oh" Hermione said quietly. "Do you-"

Before she could finish, she was interrupted by a beautiful white owl. With wide, white wings glided it through the room, taking perch on the vampire's lap.

Harry let out a delighted chuckle, starring at the owl with obvious fondness. The girl looked curiously at the owl.

"Is that your owl?" She asked and Harry nodded absently as he scratched the owl with his sharp nails.

"Hello Hedwig, what do you have for me?"

Hedwig hotted up to her master and dutifully stretched out her leg, with a curious smile took Harry the letter that was bound to the leg and blinked as he noticed the familiar handwriting.

"Hedwig, why don't you fly to the kitchen? Remus is there, I'm sure he has some snacks for you" The vampire said and Hedwig hotted and, with a affectionate nibble at the fingers of her master, she flew away. Harry stood up and turned to Hermione, smiling apologetic.

"I'm sorry, but our discussion must end for now. Maybe, we can pursue it later on"

Hermione looked not really happy, wanting to ask about the letter but regained her curiosity. Harry didn't look like someone who would be intimidated by her to oblige her curiosity, not to mention that they didn't even know each other. She had no business in checking out his private letters. Even if she still wanted to ask him questions, like how the vampires were organized and if there was really a king like in the rumors and under which laws they stood.

She turned to the boy to reply and blinked as she noticed that Harry was long gone. She huffed, boys.

| 2 |

Stepping into the bedroom and making sure that he was alone, threw Harry some private charms and took perch on the desk. Just because he liked these people here, didn't mean that he trust the Order of Phoebe. Well, he trusted Sirius and Remus but that was different. With that thought he opened the letter.

Lord Athanasius Basileús

Attend next meeting

people are restless

notice: you missed the three previous council sessions

-Mephistopheles

Harry's lip twitch in suppressed amusement, short but to the point. Yes, that was Mephisto, alright. Still, the vampire king scratched his head in slight confusion. Did he really missed the last meetings?

He hummed aloud, leaning back in his chair. Now, that he thought about it, when was the last time that he was in a meeting?

"Ah, well, doesn't matter" He decided after some seconds of vague thinking. Past was past, now, if Mephisto actually wrote him, then that means that it was important. The other vampire only contacted him if he thought it was important or if it was a report about a task Harry issued him.

He clicked dissatisfied with his tongue. At least Mephisto could have given him more information, now he needed to actually inform himself about what the meeting was, how great, and that was exactly why he only gave him that much information. Even when he exactly knew that Harry didn't liked it to mix himself up with it to much, rather observe and interfere when he thought that they went into the wrong direction.

He tapped his fingers against the table, bringing a long forgotten melody to life and turned to the window; it was raining.

Absently, he watched as the raindrops trickled against the window, every little impact resounding in his sensitive ears and mesmerized he observed as the water ran down, like little rivers. No, not rivers, no, it streamed down..like blood...in a parody of blood, trailing softly down warm skin and an erratic, exited, fearful heart-beating...

A blinding lightning illuminated the room, starling Harry out of his thoughts and he jerked abruptly to his feet, behind him the stool fell with a clatter to the ground. He brought a slightly shaky hand to his mouth, feeling the bigger than before fangs in his mouth.

A loud thunder echoed and Harry once again turned to the window, two gleaming red eyes starred back at him. He cursed softly under his breath, when was the last time he sated himself?

The vampire king closed his eyes, taking control of his growing lust. He would not submit to it. Minuted went by as the vampire stood motionless in the room, doing absolutely nothing. Then, without warning, Harry released a breath, straightening the kipped chair with one foot and flopping down on it, somehow still managing to look graceful.

That was dangerous, the vampire king still remembered the last time he lost control, it literally rained blood that day. He still didn't know if they manage to scrap of the remains of that corpse from the ceiling.

Now that he calmed down, he turned back to the letter, with a snap of his fingers turned it to ashes. There was time till the meeting, he would think of something till then.

The bigger problem was... . Harry trailed of in his thoughts as his ears twitched, perking at the sound of wood against wood. He grinned evilly, Mad-eye was back. It was time to annoy his favorite Auror.

With a brightened mood and his thirst forgotten, he slipped out of the room, leaving ashes twirling in the room.

| Chapter Two End |


Black Family Library : As far as I remember, there was no such room mentioned in the books but I took the freedom of imagination.

Mephistopheles: In Myth, a Demon, sometimes shown as Satan, sometime as Satan's servant. An example would be the character Mephistopheles from Goethe's Faust. However, here he is of course no demon but a vampire.

"For the blood in Erzsébet's bathtub": Elizabeth Báthory (Báthory Erzsébet in Hungary)was a countess from the renowned Báthory family of nobility in the Kingdom of Hungary. She has been labeled the most prolific female serial killer in history, although the number of murders is debated, and is remembered as the "Blood Countess."Writings about the case have led to legendary accounts of the Countess bathing in the blood of virgins to retain her youth. (taken from Wikipedia, your friend and helper)


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